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It didn’t happen only back then. Family estrangement is one
of the most common counseling issues rabbis face in America. This
is worth some reflection as we approach Thanksgiving and Chanukah,
occasions when families get together. I’m struck, each time
I confront a problem of family estrangement that, while the specifics
vary, the broad outlines are remarkably similar. Normally they begin
with a fight over something relatively minor, the parties stop talking,
stubbornness sets in with a vengeance, neither individual will back
down, years pass, the individuals involved often can’t even
recall the specifics of the original skirmish, and it often takes
a funeral to get the parties back in the same room–-and sometimes
even a funeral won’t do it.
I find these the saddest of stories. It is tragic when we lose
a loved one through death, when nothing we can do will bring that
person back, but it may be yet more tragic when we lose a loved
one that we can bring back, and we don’t even try. Rectifying
the situation, we realize, is not easy. Speaking personally, I have
to acknowledge that I have sometimes felt so indignant, so self-righteous,
so proud, or so stubborn that I have simply refused to forgive,
refused to be the first to make a move. Sometimes I have justified
my unwillingness to budge by saying about the other person, “Nothing
is ever going to change him.”
Of course, we know better. We know that people do change –
just look at our kids! We know from reading our Hebrew prophets
that God does not write people off. We know that pride is the enemy
of reconciliation. There’s even a Talmudic teaching that when
two people quarrel, blessings go to the one who yields first, the
one who takes responsibility for the relationship, who acts like
an adult. We also know another terrible truth: that feelings of
great anger have the capacity to hurt the hater more than the hated,
that they can become a curse in the life of a human being. Rabbi
Samuel Stahl writes that “anger metastasizes within us, it
becomes a psychic cancer.” Another sage speaks of it as a
life sentence imposed on ourselves. When this happens, we have yielded
our power to another; we have given another person control over
our lives; we have permitted someone to rob us of our well-being.
Rabbi Charles Klein in his book, How to Forgive When You Can’t
Forget, offers a valuable suggestion having to do with expectations.
Out in the real world, we know, people bruise one another all the
time. We steel ourselves against these hurts, but we expect our
loved ones to be different – we have greater expectations
of them, and greater needs, and they have the same toward us--but
they are human, and so are we. Inevitably we disappoint sometimes;
inevitably we fall short and, when we do, the responses, the hurt,
the anger, the feelings of betrayal, are magnified many times. So
Rabbi Klein challenges us to accept, to brush off the shortcomings,
mistakes, faults and hurts inflicted by our loved ones as just not
very significant, and focus instead on the commitments which unite
us.
A second suggestion comes from a wise therapist in our own community:
"reframing." After enough misery and distress have taken
place, some of us may be willing to reconsider the image of the
person who wronged us. Into this new image, into this new frame,
we are able to let in some of what is good about the person, often
using our own memories of happier times. With this newly-framed
portrait, the hurts and betrayals no longer overshadow the positive
qualities.
Here’s one more idea I have found insightful. The job of
reconciliation may not be solely the work of the persons estranged.
The Talmud, often less than clear, is crystal clear on this point.
According to the Talmud, it is not only permissible to meddle, it
is commanded that we meddle in the interest of peace, and harmony,
and eternal reward is promised to the peacemaking meddler! (Imagine,
friends, what would happen if the children of two feuding brothers
refused to attend family functions until their fathers ended their
standoff!)
So here’s a challenge to all of us – myself included
– who have some family estrangement going on or are at risk
of family estrangement. Let’s take one step, any step, over
this coming holiday season to reestablish contact, to mend the rift,
or to prevent it. Let’s pick up the phone and call, let’s
write a note or send a card. And if there’s no response, let’s
do it again.
Rabbi Klein, in the above-mentioned book, offers a relevant metaphor
for the rewards which will come:
This is a guaranteed weight loss program. Unlike other highly
touted diet plans, however, mine does not require giving up any
of the foods we love to eat. If we simply lay aside a grudge or
forgive someone, we will feel as though we are ten pounds lighter.
Not a bad prescription for the holidays.
B’shalom
Jim
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