Mon, 18 February
I said: I will confess my fault to the Lord. And you took away my guilt and forgave my sin.
Ps 32
I remember as a child going to my paternal grandparents' house for break of fast following Yom Kippur. This is one of the most solemn days in the Jewish calendar, following the period of the HIgh Holy Days from Rosh Hashana, the start of the New Year. During those 10 days, there is a great deal of prayer and asking forgiveness, not only of God but also to people around you that you affected, good and bad, during the prior year.
My grandfather had remarried when I was about 12 and Sarah was a really neat woman, probably the first adult I knew who asked us to call her by her first
name and talked to us as equals. When we would enter their apartment, on the 12th floor of a high rise in Brooklyn, the aroma of the simmering break of fast feast would hit us. Mouths watering, hours away from sundown and the first star shine which would release us from no food mandate, Sarah would gently pull us into the kitchen after telling my parents to go sit down in the living room and then would say, "eat, I will take the sin."
Now some would argue she was leading me astray, but instead I think it gave me a chance to look at the reasoning behind the fasting rule. If the point was to add a bit of suffering to make our bodies weak, to turn our thoughts to spiritual connectivity, it was lost on most of us.
I think it is easier for me now, as I have moved well into middle age,
to admit my faults and errors. I try not to let much time, certainly not a year, pass before I face up to whoever I may have offended and try to work through the problem. I believe that when I make these efforts with full contrition, they generally are received well. I have to believe that for some of the people I have dealt with, the grace of the Lord was very much present as they also strove to meet me with a sense of fair play and acceptance.
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