HOW TO TRULY FORGIVE 
June 29, 2012
M.E. Gordon in #839, Young Chassid

After making sure that the Sifrei Torah were untouched, father and son went with the policemen to the station where the accused was held. They were ushered into a room where an official sat, looking through a pile of papers. He had a no-nonsense air about him, and even the two policemen seemed intimidated by him…

The Levi family was used to people knocking on their doors at any time of day or night; after all, it was known throughout the city that Rabbi Levi’s home was as open and warm as his heart. His sincere empathy for anyone with any problem, his wise advice, and his valuable connections with political leaders, medical specialists and philanthropists drew people from all walks of life. That night, however, the knock on the door had a different sound to it.

Mendy ran to the door and checked through the peephole to see who was knocking so firmly at this time of night. He gasped when he saw two tall uniformed policemen waiting for the door to open. Mendy stepped back and turned to call his father. His father came to open the door, and calmly invited the officers in. Mendy was a bit frightened; after all, just twenty years ago, a visit from the police under the previous government would have boded no good for religious activists like his father. Mendy had to take a deep breath and remind himself that the present authorities encouraged freedom of religion and protected the rights of their Jewish citizens. In fact, they respected the Rabbi and had helped him numerous times. Mendy stayed in the background, wondering why the policemen had come.

“We are sorry to disturb your evening, Rabbi Levi,” began the taller of the two. “But as we were making our rounds through the streets, we discovered a group of delinquent youths vandalizing your synagogue. Most of the boys ran away, but we did manage to catch one of the young hoodlums. We need you to come with us, first to the synagogue to assess the damage, and then to the station where we are holding the boy, so that you can sign that you wish to press charges.”

The second policeman, who looked like a figure from a history book with his handlebar moustache, added, “It may take a couple of hours until you get back home.”

“I may have to bring my son along,” commented Rabbi Levi. “My wife and daughters are out tonight at a special women’s program, and I don’t really want to leave him home alone.”

“That will be fine, he looks old enough to behave responsibly in the police station,” observed the officer with the moustache.

Mendy wished that his sisters would have seen him riding through the streets in the back of a police car, but to his chagrin, the streets were empty. When they reached the shul and saw the damage, however, Mendy’s excitement turned to anger. His parents had worked so hard and under such difficult circumstances to build this shul and create a vibrant Jewish community, yet these hooligans had the nerve to mark the synagogue’s walls with anti-Semitic graffiti and break the windows. The tall officer even said that when they came upon them, the boys had been preparing to light a fire in the Aron Kodesh! Boruch Hashem the police had discovered them in time. Mendy was glad that at least one of the perpetrators had been caught. He certainly deserved whatever punishment they would give him.

After making sure that the Sifrei Torah were untouched, father and son went with the policemen to the station where the accused was held. They were ushered into a room where an official sat, looking through a pile of papers. He had a no-nonsense air about him, and even the two policemen seemed intimidated by him.

“Bring in the detainee,” the official told the policemen. The policemen obeyed immediately, and brought in a tough-looking boy who could not have been older than seventeen. Mendy somehow got the impression that the defiant expression on his face was just a cover-up and that underneath was a really scared kid.

The official turned to Rabbi Levi. “We need you to sign papers that you agree to press charges against the young man.”

“What will happen to this boy if I don’t sign, and what will happen if I do?”

“If you don’t sign, he’ll go free with a warning. If you do sign, then he will either have to spend some time in prison, or if someone takes responsibility for him, he can exchange the time in prison for an equal amount of time doing community service.”

Mendy noticed the boy’s face pale when the word prison was mentioned.

“Okay, then I’ll sign,” said Rabbi Levi. Mendy felt bad for the boy, but figured that his father was probably worried that if the boy would be let free, he and his friends would continue to make trouble.

“But I would also like to offer to take responsibility for him. He can do community work for our synagogue, like repairing the damage that he and his friends made, for starters. After that, there’s plenty of other work waiting for him.”

Everyone in the room was taken aback; even Mendy, who knew his father to be extremely kind-hearted, was surprised.

The official just raised his eyebrows, and commented, “If you prefer it that way, that is fine with us. This young man will be required to check in with the probation officer once a week, with a letter signed by the sponsor, which in this case would be you, Rabbi Levi. The letter should affirm that he had fulfilled the required hours of community work that week to your satisfaction.” The official gave a stern look at the boy. “We will be sending an officer to check on you every so often, as well as follow-up phone calls to the Rabbi. Any more trouble, and I assure you that you will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law!”

On the way home, Mendy asked his father: “If you felt bad for the boy, why didn’t you just let him go? And if you thought that he deserves to be punished in some way, why did you have to offer to sponsor him?”

“Mendy, I learned what to do from Moshe Rabbeinu!”

“From Moshe Rabbeinu?”

“The Rebbe describes in a sicha the kind of forgiveness that we can learn from Moshe Rabbeinu. When the Yidden complained against Hashem Yisborach and Moshe, in Parshas Chukas, Moshe did not take personal offence.”

“Do you mean when Hashem sent snakes to bite them, and Moshe davened for them?”

“Exactly. He did not only seek to save them from the snakes, but because he truly cared for their welfare, he wanted to help them do T’shuva. Hashem therefore told him to make a copper snake on a pole and hold it up high to remind them that it is not the snake that harms or heals, but that Hashem is dealing with them according to their deeds.

“When I saw the young man, I realized that prison would certainly not help him, nor would just letting him go free be a solution. By sponsoring him to do community work for the shul, I’m giving him the message that I care about him, not just about rectifying the damage that was done.”

Many months later, Mendy saw how true his father’s words were. The young man had lost his tough look and became the Rabbi’s most enthusiastic and loyal helper.

This story is based on a true incident. The lesson is based on Likkutei Sichos Vol. 28, pp. 138-148.

 

Article originally appeared on Beis Moshiach Magazine (http://www.beismoshiachmagazine.org/).
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