Is there is limit to how long a person should hold a grudge?
I recently discussed this issue with a childhood friend, as we reflected upon some of our best and worst memories growing up.
Over time, many of us accumulate what I often refer to as “soul trash.” It could relate to a failed relationship or an outstanding personal loan. Perhaps there was an invitation never extended or a thank you never offered.
We gather many memories in a lifetime—hopefully most of them are positive. But what about the negative?
Over almost two decades as a spiritual leader, I sigh inwardly each time I hear these three comments:
“They owe me an apology.” The apology rarely comes.
“People need to understand.” That usually means, others do not share your perception of the world.
“You would have thought that…” This usually refers to someone imposing their expectations on another, often leading to disappointment.
Last year, as I prepared for the High Holidays, I read on one website, that “holding a grudge is our way of imposing our own system of justice upon another. We aspire to be the judge, jury and jailer.”
There is a simple, but extremely inspiring verse from this week’s Torah portion, which in some ways casts some light on this topic.
As God continues to speak to Moses on Mount Sinai (Behar) after giving the 10 Commandments, a unique but enlightening commandment is introduced.
“Six years you shall sow your fields…but in the seventh year the land shall have a Sabbath of complete rest.” (Leviticus 35:3-4)
At first glance, this is one of the Torah’s many environmental commandments. We can surmise that by refraining from tilling every seventh year, God commands that we provide the earth with its own Shabbat—an opportunity to replenish its nutrients.
The word Shabbat or Sabbath is closely related to the Hebrew word for rest.
Indeed, in many other Biblical verses, we are reminded that “seven” is Judaism’s most significant number. It refers to the idea of reposing, before we embrace new beginnings.
The Torah tells us that a person who is working off a debt—an economic slave—should be freed upon entering the seventh year—whether or not the outstanding amount has been paid in full.
And in this week’s parashah, we are told that after 49 years—seven times seven—any land seized to repay a farmer’s debt must be returned to its original owner.
The Etz Chaim Biblical Commentary notes that this was so “no human being should ever be condemned to permanent servitude.”
It is Judaism’s “firewall” to ensure that all Israelites would be treated equally, and that Judaism would never devolve into a feudal system.
But, there are other types of slavery?
There are people in our lives who have caused us harm. Should we hold them in perpetual servitude? Are there those, like us, who have committed injustices, as the Yom Kippur service defines them, “out of a confused heart?”
Perhaps one of the most difficult acts we will ever perform is to forgive someone—especially when that person appears incapable of change.
Or do we possess the capacity to free another person from spiritual servitude.
It is not easy.
The Torah describes in Genesis our patriarch, Jacob, walking with a limp following his wrestling match with an angel. He can’t change his imperfect past, but he can move on—albeit damaged.
The great rabbi, Maimonides—referring to the Israelites’ slavery in Egypt—noted that often, enslaving someone is not so much about repaying a debt or receiving restitution, but rather “emphasizing the master’s power over the slave.”
Many sins have been committed against us that are hard to forgive. Yet, as a matter of survival, we must.
Psychologist Dr. Carlos Todd notes, “Forgiveness is an act of liberation…When you choose to forgive, you aren’t granting the wrongdoer a pass; you’re giving yourself permission to heal.”
And so, as the Torah teaches through the “power of seven,” we often need to revisit those issues in our lives that have become “stale dated.”
“You would have thought that…people should understand…there is an apology due.” Will those half sentences ever be completed?
This week, the Torah inspires us to consider not only physical slavery, but spiritual servitude, as well.
Like the earth, let us consider replenishing the nutrients that sustain our souls: love, understanding and forgiveness.
And like land in Israel, the seventh year can provide a healthy opportunity—“to give it a rest.”
Shabbat shalom, v’kol tuv.
Rabbi Irwin Huberman