Today’s Torah reading is another double portion. It begins with the complicated ritual of Yom Kippur. These two goats, one of whom is spared, one of whom goes off a cliff with all our sins on it. It was how we sought forgiveness. In later rabbinic literature we learn that for sins against one another Yom Kippur does not atone, only for those sins against G-d. (Yoma 8:8-9). It can be more complicated to seek forgiveness from our fellow humans than from G-d sometimes. It can be more difficult to accept apologies from our fellow humans as well. We’ll come back to that.  

Next, we move into the central portion of Torah. A section called the holiness code. It begins “Speak to the whole Israelite community and say to them: You shall be holy for I the Lord your G-d am Holy.” What does it mean to be holy? The dictionary tells us “dedicated or consecrated to God or a religious purpose; sacred.” In Hebrew, kadosh has the sense of special or set apart.  

What follows then is a list of how we become holy. It sounds almost like a repetition of the 10 Commandments. The very first one is “You shall each revere your mother and your father, and keep My sabbaths: I יהוה am your God.” 

 How perfect to have this verse this Mother’s Day weekend. You may notice something here. In the Exodus version, it is you should honor your father and your mother. And the verb is honor, not revere. The rabbis notice this. Of course, they notice this. What is the difference?  

In the 10 Commandments we are told to honor our fathers—to hold him in high esteem, respect. The verb cabad, is the same one we use in Kol hakavod, all the honor, well done. It is the same noun as liver, because it has a sense of heaviness, seriousness. It is the verb that the Torah uses when G-d hardens Pharaoh’s heart. Examples of how we show kavod to our parents is by getting up when a parent walks into a room.  

In today’s version, the verb tira’u comes from yireh, to fear or revere. In our house, we debate this difference often. I don’t want to fear G-d. Or frankly my mother. I prefer the softer term revere. Simon would point out that this form of fear is more like awe, that sense of fear and trembling. Our rabbi, Rabbi Neil Kominsky settled it for us. It is both, fear and revere. As it is said, it expresses “a reverential awe and deep respect.” That settled it for us, but we still joke about it.  

This is Mother’s Day Weekend. It is a day I have always loved, and my own mother most certainly demanded we celebrate. It is not just a Hallmark made up concept and she was well aware of its history.  

In 1870, Julia Ward Howe, author of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” wrote the “Mother’s Day Proclamation” as a response to the Civil War. Howe’s “Mother’s Day for Peace” was celebrated in 1872. Women, Mothers in particular, did not want to sacrifice one more son to war. The first Mother’s Day after my mother died found me outside the White House demonstrating for peace. It seemed like the right way to honor my mother’s memory. Tomorrow I will find some way to work for peace.  

And yet, I am aware that Mother’s Day in our modern world is at best complicated. My first understanding of that was as a young stepmother. We took my young stepdaughter out for brunch after Hebrew School, and the waitress complimented me on her good behavior. She assumed she was my daughter. It was awkward and cut both of us to our cores.  

The longer I’ve been a rabbi, I know that people often struggle with Mother’s Day. Some of you may be in this room. People who have lost their moms, recently or long ago. People who are struggling with infertility. People who have lost a child. People who are estranged from a child. People who struggle with the relationship they have with their mothers. People whose mothers may have actually abused them. And men who are solo parents. Some people just want to hide under the covers until all the hoopla has passed. That’s OK. We see you.  

Can we then think about this commandment, to fear our mothers (and our fathers) as a way to holiness? Are we really commanded to do this? Of course, there are those who think every day should be mother’s day.  

 Later in the parsha, we learn, “You shall not hate your kinsfolk in your heart. Reprove your kin but incur no guilt on their account. You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against members of your people. Love your fellow [Israelite] as yourself: I am יהוה.” 

A grudge is a persistent feeling of ill will or resentment resulting from a past insult or injury. My father was a grudge holder, and proud of it. He could not buy a German product as part of that. I am sure almost 30 years after his death he is still angry at the youth group advisor who was mean to me. I have forgotten most of those details. Or the Catholic priest who went camping with my Girl Scout troop who thought in order for me to remain part of that troop I needed to convert to Catholicism. Those are just a couple of examples.  

But let’s go back to the beginning of our portion. Somehow those goats were about achieving forgiveness. Holding onto a grudge, onto that anger, onto that resentment prevents us from being holy. But letting go of it is difficult.  

We are told that we need to seek reconciliation and forgiveness three times. If the person we’ve injured does not forgive then it is on them. 

Often, I am asked if someone needs to forgive their mother, for little hurts or bigger ones. I can’t tell you that you need to forgive your mother (or your father).  

Sometimes I am even asked if they need to go to the funeral of a mom who hurt them. Rabbi Harold Kushner, of blessed memory, explains in his book that you can go to the funeral and mourn the relationship you wish you had had. You may not want them to “rent space in your head.” Sometimes the forgiveness is more for them than for you. And sometimes it is impossible to forgive. You must feel safe before forgiveness can happen. Sometimes it is like an onion, with layers and layers. And sometimes as with grief, it takes time.  

Revere or fear your mother and your father. If you are missing them, whether you lost them recently or long ago. Whether they were perfect or not. Whether they live near you or far away. Whether you will be together with them or not.  

I am a sucker for flowers, cards, and brunch or dinner out. I often run a 5K where I receive a t-shirt that says momstrong, which fits with our discussion last night of Eshet Hayil, a Woman of Valor, or Courage, one who is strong and whose children rise up and call her blessed.JTF_Forgiveness_infographic  

May you each enjoy the weekend, whether you are curled up under the covers or outside with family in this glorious spring weather.