LOS ANGELES, September 25, 2012--When the sun sets on Tuesday, September 25th, the Jewish people will celebrate Yom Kippur.
Yom Kippur is the most serious holiday in Judaism, the day of
atonement. We Jews beg Hashem (God) for forgiveness for our
transgressions, and vow to make an effort to be better people going
forward. What makes Yom Kippur so powerful is that on that day we are
not who we are, but who we wish we could be.
From sundown Tuesday night until sundown Wednesday night, no food or
drink is consumed. The one day of fasting is to purify our bodies and
souls.
Yet the concept of atonement is a difficult one. It is one thing to say words that sound holy. It is another thing to mean them.
For instance, I have recommended that politically liberal Jews stay
home and avoid Synagogues unless they are willing to apologize for
everything they have said about conservatives. Ask a liberal Jew if they
will apologize for everything they said about Sarah Palin, Michele
Bachmann, and George W. Bush. They will make a joke or explain why some
hatred is justified. Then they will turn it around and ask if
conservatives like me will apologize for hating President Obama. Once it
is explained to them that I do not hate him at all, but merely
disagree with him, they offer a confused look. Isn't that the same
thing?
No. Not at all. Not even close.
I have never been a fan of insincere requests of forgiveness. For
instance, I do not apologize for acts of lust because I feel zero guilt
over it. Maybe I should, but until and unless I do, any apology would
be phony and meaningless. If I see a Republican Jewish brunette in
Synagogue that I would like to flip over my shoulders and take back to
my cave, I will probably make an attempt.
Atoning in my mind should not be "cosmetic." For instance, several
relatives of mine should do the world a favor and just cease existing.
To apologize for requesting that they drop dead would be insincere. In
my mind they are terrible human beings, and requesting that they cease
to exist is actually my way of saying I want a better world. They most
likely feel the world would be better if I departed. If that is how they
truly feel, then their apologizing would be pointless.
Yet some situations are not so simple. A flight I took recently
offered food for thought that really does deserve my contemplation on
Yom Kippur.
The passenger next to me in first class was gracious. He took the
window and allowed me to have the aisle. I slept for most of the flight,
and made small talk with the gentleman as we were landing. He admitted
to me that he knew who I was. We had interacted once before, and it
was not a good experience for either of us. My face was ashen when he
told me where he met me as I quickly connected the dots.
I gave a speech in Idaho in front of former RNC Chairman Michael Steele. A reporter named Michael Ames wrote about the event in a manner that I considered unfair.
I responded by writing a column entitled "Michael Ames is a lying liberal scumbag."
Now Mr. Ames was sitting next to me on a flight. He also happens to be Jewish. Yes, there are Jews in Idaho.
Mr. Ames had only been reporting for one week when I unloaded on him.
A couple of my readers thought I overreacted. Ironically, some of his
family members agreed with me.
While I was sleeping, he was sending messages on Twitter about who he
was sitting next to. One can go either way on the ethics of that.
We had a frank exchange, and he was genuinely bothered by my assessment of him. He felt I was unduly harsh.
I made a promise to him, and that promise was kept. To dismiss his
concerns out of hand would be unfair. To just apologize on the spot
would be insincere. My compromise was that I would go back and reread
his column and my response. Then with everything fresh in my mind, I
would reassess.
Apologizing is not supposed to be easy. True atonement is meant to be
difficult. Jews on Yom Kippur are forced to confront some pretty dark
situations.
Very careful consideration was given. Self-reflection is not always navel-gazing. In this case introspection was necessary.
My hope was that I would come to the conclusion that I was completely
wrong. It is with deep sadness that I simply do not feel that way.
I was partially wrong. I called him a "lying, liberal scumbag."
It is possible that his misquoting me was accidental. His mistakes in
the column could have been exactly that, and honest ones at that. This
could be another case of that stereotype about two Jews in a room and
three opinions.
He insisted to me that he is not a liberal. He is libertarian who
does not fit into either of the two major parties neatly. While many
liberal reporters deny they are liberals, I have to take him at his word
unless contrary evidence shows up.
As for calling him a scumbag, that was harsh, and I regret doing
that. The guy I sat next to on the plane was pleasant. Besides, if he
was truly awful, my comments about him would have had zero effect. The
guy obviously has feelings, since apparently I hurt them.
The problem I have is that I still intensely dislike the column. It
contains a mixture of factual inaccuracies and interpretations that do
not come across to me as fair.
I attacked his intentions when I should have focused only on the results.
Simply put, I questioned what was in his heart. That was wrong of me.
I apologize to Mr. Ames for how I described him, but not for being upset with his column.
I absolutely disagree with his assessment, but I would be willing to
break bread with him if he thought any good would come out of it.
Should he be burned in effigy? No.
Should that particular column be used as kindling for a bonfire? Perhaps.
Have I ever written anything that others felt was inflammatory and worthy of scorn? Yes.
Were my critics justified in being angry? Sometimes.
Mr. Ames and I are both far from perfect, but I truly believe we were both sincere with each other on that airplane.
For that reason, I genuinely wish Mr. Ames a peaceful Yom Kippur, and
hope that the holiday and days beyond provide him meaning physically
and spiritually.