A poem in honor of Yom HaShoah 5779. A Sonderkommando’s memories and the role of the living.
Teshuvah is, among other things, a process of reaching closure and healing. In wronging another, we dealt a blow to our relationships—our connection to ourselves, to our community or society, and to our relationship with God. Reaching closure means healing these wounds. But what if we can’t ask for forgiveness because those we wronged are no longer alive?
Elul is called “the season of reconciliation.” It is a time of quiet, when our crops have been planted and are nearing harvest. We are reminded that the deeds and thoughts that we have sown among each other are also coming to fruition.
There is something transcendent in this act of forgiveness. Something that speaks to us of human greatness. This is especially true in the case of one who has just been grievously wronged by a person motivated by pure hatred. Such is the case of the Charleston shooting victims who forgave the killer of their loved ones.
And yet, do we really have the right to forgive one who has wronged us, but is unrepentant? And do we have the right to forgive one who wronged someone else? The answer given by Jewish tradition is “No”. There are situations when one is not allowed to forgive—not only not obligated, but not allowed!