About a month ago, Sarah and I were on a bike ride. We stopped at a coffee shop in Rockville Town Center. Sarah went in and I was outside with the unlocked bikes about 4 feet from me. I was of course glued to my phone and not really watching the bikes. All of the sudden, I hear someone yelling, “that guy stole your bike.” I look up and sure enough, someone had hopped on Sarah’s bike and was riding away. I started running after him and I started screaming at the top of my lungs, “Bike thief….that guy stole my bike…”. A crowd starting converging. I was catching up because there were a lot of pedestrians so the thief couldn't go so fast. I am screaming “Bike Thief, Bike Thief” and I am getting more and more upset at this guy. I am so angry. By nature, I am not prone to violence but I have to admit that in that moment I was thinking “If I catch this guy, I am going to pummel him.” I was so angry.
And then I am like 10 feet behind him still screaming and he has nowhere to go. So he stops the bike and gets off and begins to walk away. But before he walked away, I caught a glimpse of his face. And everything changed for me in that moment. I went from being so angry and mad to feeling nothing but compassion. Because when I saw his face, this is what I saw. First, he was no more than 20 years old. He was just a kid. Second, I saw his tattered clothes. Third, something was off. He looked high. He was probably an addict. Maybe homeless.
He was such a nebuch...he couldn’t even successfully steal a bike. I remember feeling like I should run after him and give him the bike! (remember it was sarah’s bike, not mine!).
In that moment I understand a Midrash that I have heard many times.
The Midrash (Vayikra Rabbah Parshah 29) tells us that on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur as we daven, blow shofar, klap al chet, we are really asking G-d for one request. We are asking G-d to be עומד מכסא הדין ויושב בכסא רחמים - “to get up from the throne of Justice and sit in the throne of mercy”.
When I saw my bike thief’s face, I had a visceral understanding of what it means to leave the chair of justice (or judgement or anger) and sit down on the throne of compassion, mercy, and understanding. I saw the thief’s face and we want G-d to see our faces. To see our “tattered clothes,” our struggles and challenges.
The sin of the Golden Calf (and subsequent forgiveness) is the central story of Yom Kippur. G-d had said (2’nd commandment) that if the people worship other gods, the punishment would be death. When we sinned, G-d initial response was to threaten death and destruction. Moshe intercedes and G-d decides instead to treat us with compassion. This is when we are taught to sing G-d’s 13 Attributes of Mercy (Hashem, Hashem, Kel Rachum V’chanun) which we do so many times over Yom Kippur.
What is the difference between Din (Justice) and Rachamim (compassion)?
Din is only concerned with the facts. Rachamim is concerned with the context behind the facts.
Din says, “that guy stole your bike. He deserves to be punished.” Rachamim looks at his face and struggles. Din only sees that the Jewish people worshiped a Golden Calf. Rachamim knows that we were still a slave people. We had just gone through very difficult periods of hunger and thirst in the desert.
So which one wins out? Din or Rachamim? Well if you look in the Talmud (the book of laws and justice), G-d is referred to not as “Dayan” (the judge) but as “Rachmana” (the compassionate one).
Of course there is a place for Din. Without it, there would be chaos. But it is confined to the Beit Din (the court). It is put in a building (bayit) and in a legal structure. Everything else, the way we are supposed to deal with friends, family and others is through Rachamim (compassion/mercy).
But there is a big problem with all of this. We are full of Chutzpah. How can we have the chutzpah to ask Hashem to get off the throne of justice and sit down on the throne of compassion if we don’t do that in our life? How hypocritical are we? Which throne do you usually find yourself sitting in?
When your waiter accidentally messes up your order, which throne are you on (justice or compassion)? When there is a tense moment at work and you feel an employee or co-worker did something wrong and it hurt you, which throne are you on? When a friend should have been present for you when you were struggling, but for whatever reason did not show up, which throne are you on? When family members do things that infuriate us, which throne are we on?
The crazy thing is that it should be easier for us to do this - get off the throne of justice and sit on the throne of mercy - than it is for G-d. This is because G-d never messes up. But for us to shift to the throne of mercy is just acting in our own self interest because we know that we are always messing up. We arent perfect friends, co-workers, children, parents etc etc and when we mess up, we want to be forgiven.
The Talmud has a beautiful term for what I am talking about. It is not really about forgiving after the fact. It is about cutting people more slack to begin with. The talmud calls this מעביר על מדותיו (Ma’avir Al Midosav). Midah means the measure. As in measure for measure. Someone harmed us, he or she deserves this punishment or consequence. But Ma’avir al midosav means that I let it pass. While it's happening I understand the context and after the fact I forgive.
If we want G-d to shift to the throne of compassion and mercy, we must make that shift as well.
Practical Tip - Every Night we are supposed to say the bedtime shema before going to sleep. There is a beautiful little declaration that we make before the shema.
This is what it says:
“Master of the universe, I hereby forgive anyone who angered or antagonized me, whether against my body, my property, my honor, or against anything of mine, whether he did it accidentally, willfully, carelessly, or purposely, whether through speech or deed – No man should be punished (by Heaven) because of me.”
If you say this every night, it will change you. It will help you spend a lot more time on the throne of compassion.
I would like to conclude with a famous story that I just heard on Krista Tippet’s show “On Being.” She was interviewing John Lewis, the congressman and famous civil rights icon. It was a Sunday in March 1965 and Lewis was leading the Selma - Montgomery March for Voting Rights. When they reached the Edmund Pettis bridge (which was very tall) they could not see the other side. When they got to the midpoint, they saw a sea of white Alabama state troopers with batons on the other side. They continued walking. When they got to the of the bridge they were warned to disperse. They stood there. I encourage you to go online and watch the footage. At this point they are just attacked by a mob of state troopers who started beating them mercilessly. John Lewis suffered a concussion and together with 40 others was hospitalized. This has become known as “bloody sunday.”
Krista Tippet asked John Lewis if he forgave the white trooper who struck him in the head. Lewis said that he forgave him. But the amazing thing is that he didn’t only forgive him years later. Rather, while he was being hit, he was forgiving. Here’s what Lewis said at another point in the interview: “The attitude was you can arrest me, take me to jail, almost kill me, but in spite of that, I'm going to still love you.” How? That man who hit him was an innocent child at one time. What kind of poisonous lessons was he taught that would lead him to do this. What kind of struggle is he going through in his own life to make him violent?
While John Lewis is exemplifying what I would call Heroic Forgiveness, what I am talking about here is becoming someone who is more forgiving. To live more on the throne of mercy.
What is crazy is that John Lewis seemed to be less upset at the man who gave him a concussion than I sometimes get at people in my own life who make mistakes.
So when I think back to the bike thief, I am actually grateful that the bike was almost stolen. (remember it was Sarah’s bike!!). That bike thief taught me a very important lesson. He taught me to look in the face of those who “hurt” me; to see their “tattered cloths,” struggles and challenges. He taught me to spend a little less time on the throne of Justice and a little more time on the throne of compassion.
Let’s all try to shift to the throne of compassion and in that merit may Hashem treat us only with compassion and seal us in the Book of Life for a year of Health, well-being and a year in which our deepest prayers are answered.
