The art of a real apology

“I’m sorry you’re so sensitive.”

“I’m sorry if you were offended.”

“I’m sorry, but…”

A few weeks ago, I began an adult education class at Temple Beth Shalom by asking everyone to write the worst apology they could imagine. We had no trouble coming up with examples. We also had no trouble explaining why these apologies are so unsatisfying. They may include the words “I’m sorry,” but they avoid the much harder work of taking responsibility or making amends.

This question is particularly relevant for Jews at this time of year. Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, begins this year on the evening of Friday, Sept. 11, and ends at nightfall on Sunday, Sept. 13. Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement and holiest day of the Jewish year, begins on Sunday evening, Sept. 20, and ends the following evening. Together, these High Holy Days are among the most important religious observances in Jewish life, a season devoted to reflection, repentance, forgiveness and the possibility of change.

One of the central practices of this season is teshuvah. The word is often translated as “repentance,” but its Hebrew root means “to return.” Teshuvah asks us to look honestly at the ways we have fallen short and begin the work of returning to the people we yearn to become.

More than 800 years ago, the Jewish scholar Maimonides described a practical path for doing this work. We begin by recognizing and acknowledging the harm we have caused. We regret the harm we caused and admit out loud what we have done. We try to repair the damage when possible and apologize, seeking forgiveness from the person we have harmed. But teshuvah doesn’t end with an apology. The real test comes when we face the same situation again and choose to behave differently.

This ancient wisdom sets a high bar. Saying “I’m sorry” is important, but it isn’t enough if nothing else changes.

After studying these steps with my class, I asked which parts of the process they thought American culture does well. I expected someone to say that, at the very least, we are pretty good at apologizing.

Instead, one person said, “None of them.”

I asked if anyone else could identify a step they thought we do well. No one could. I found that deeply discouraging.

It can be hard to know what to do after we have hurt someone. We may feel defensive, focus on our good intentions, make excuses or convince ourselves that the other person is overreacting. Sometimes we know we caused harm and genuinely regret it, but don’t know how to move forward. Teshuvah gives us a path. It asks us to stop defending ourselves long enough to acknowledge what happened, listen to the person we hurt, take responsibility for what belongs to us and begin to make repair.

Jewish tradition also makes an important distinction between seeking forgiveness and receiving it. On Yom Kippur, Jewish adults traditionally fast from food and water for 25 hours, unless health requires otherwise, and spend much of the day in prayer and reflection. Yet the ancient rabbis taught that prayer and fasting cannot repair harm we have caused another person. We have to go to the person we hurt and try to make things right. Seeking forgiveness is our responsibility. Granting forgiveness belongs to the person who was harmed.

There is something hopeful in all of this. The High Holidays begin with the belief that human beings can change. We are responsible for what we have done, but we are not condemned to keep doing it. We can acknowledge harm without making excuses. We can make amends. We can repair what is still possible to repair. Most importantly, we can choose differently the next time.

You don’t have to be Jewish to take advantage of this ancient wisdom. As we enter this season, perhaps each of us can think about the relationships in our own lives and ask: Is there something I need to acknowledge? Is there harm I can still repair? What would I do differently next time?

The work isn’t easy, and none of us will do it perfectly. We simply have to be willing to begin.

Rabbi Sarah Freidson serves the spiritual, religious, educational and pastoral needs of Temple Beth Shalom in Mahopac.