Naso -- 5774

“To err is human,” Alexander Pope wrote.  We all make mistakes.

“When men or women individually commit any wrong toward a fellow human being, thus breaking faith with God, and they realize their guilt, they shall confess the wrong that they have done.  They shall make restitution in the principal amount and add one-fifth to it, giving it to the one who was wronged” (Numbers 5:6-7).

When mistakes happen between people, the fabric of their relationship is ripped.  The relationship is diminished, even if only a little bit.  It is harder to trust, enjoy, and love each other.

In Parshat Naso (an uncomfortable Torah portion, generally), we find recognition that human relationships take work – especially when one person has harmed another.  Bygones are never bygones.  Rather, we need to take proactive steps to mend the fabric of a relationship.  First, we must own up to what we’ve done, acknowledging that we know what we did was harmful.  It’s hard to trust someone who doesn’t even understand that he or she hurt us.

“I’m sorry” is not enough.  We also need to make restitution – we need to try to make up for what we’ve done in some way.  If we don’t square our accounts with another person, then we don’t truly care about them.

But we must go even further.  The Torah, in this passage contemplating stolen funds, advocates a cash payment over and above the returned money.  It’s a way to demonstrate that someone else’s loss is real, that their pain must be accounted for.  It is through this additional step that true balance is restored.

You might think this restitution is for the victim – whom it surely benefits.  Why, then, does the Torah require it be paid to the priest in cases when the victim is deceased?  “If that party [is deceased and] has no kin to whom restitution can be made, the amount repaid shall go to God for the priest” (Numbers 5:8).  Because when we owe an emotional debt, we need to pay it.  We need to clear our conscience by performing an affirmative act.  Only then can we move on healthfully.

“To err is human,” Alexander Pope wrote, “to forgive, divine.”  Judaism agrees entirely with the first part of the statement, but only partially with the second.  Forgiveness comes not only from God, and not only from the human beings we’ve harmed, but also from -- and to -- ourselves.