On Sept. 6, Manalapan, my town, was hit by vandalism aimed directly at the many Jews who live there. Threatening words and symbols of hatred that we all recognize were spraypainted in red all along several main thoroughfares.
Some neighborhood development signs had to be taken down because of the words and messages that infected them.
Several thoughts crossed my mind like unwanted rodents. In particular: the perpetrators would probably never be caught, never be brought to justice, and yet it would be my responsibility to forgive them. It seemed too much to ask.
Jews are taught that certain avenues of forgiveness are ours to open and initiate; not for the sake of those who wrong us, but for our own sake. In this way we may open ourselves to correct our own pathways of right action.
Before I can forgive, I must picture the perpetrator. I deeply sense that he, or she, or they, are well aware of what they did and of when they did it; during the days leading up to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Beyond that, they really did not have much to hold onto in this life.
That in order to feel special, they must proceed under cover of darkness to deface inanimate objects with a harsh red pigment.
I can only pray they found what they were looking for in the relatively small collateral damage that was done. I can give thanks to God that no human beings were harmed in the night. I can pray with the very petitions of my heart that this person, or these people, found a deeper understanding of what they did … that somehow, miraculously so, they may feel even more profoundly sad and sobered than those whom they originally hoped to wrong.
May they learn from their actions. May they heal as we hope to heal. If I can believe that even a fraction of these scenarios may come to pass … I can begin to forgive.
Cantor Jacqueline L. Marx
Temple Emanu-El
Edison