In the Gates of Repentance it is written: ”I hereby forgive all who have hurt me, all who have wronged me, whether deliberately or inadvertently, whether by word or by deed. May no one be punished on my account. And as I forgive and pardon those who have wronged me, may those whom I have harmed forgive me, whether I acted deliberately or inadvertently, whether by word or by deed.” Amen…
Yeshua taught us to pray “forgive us as we forgive others,” which implies that our forgiveness (of others) is the measure of our own forgiveness. In other words, as we forgive others, so we experience forgiveness ourselves… Forgiveness releases the hurt, the anger, and the disappointment so these feelings do not inwardly consume and exhaust our souls. And yet forgiveness must be self-directed, too, since refusing to forgive yourself denies or negates the forgiveness given from others. Forgiving yourself means admitting that you act just like other people, that you are human, and that you are in need of reconciliation too. We have to move on, past the shame, and to turn back to hope. As a Yiddish proverb puts it, “You are what you are, not what you were…”
It is written, “in many things we offend all,” and therefore we must confess our sins one to another to find healing (James 5:16). However the practice of love overlooks a multitude of sins, and if we do not condemn those who offend us, then we will not need to forgive them for their offenses. Walking in God’s love sets us free from the slavery of negative emotions such as resentment, bitterness, anger, unresolved grief, and so on.
I love this affirmation and prayer attributed to Eusebius of Caesarea (c. 263-339 AD): “May I be the friend of that which is eternal and abides. May I never quarrel with those nearest me; and if I do, may we be reconciled quickly. May I never devise evil against anyone; and if any devise evil against me, may I escape uninjured and without any desire to hurt them. May I love, seek, and attain only that which is good. May I wish for the happiness of all and the misery of none. May I never rejoice in the ill-fortune of one who has wronged me. When I have done or said what is wrong, may I never wait for the rebuke of others, but always rebuke myself until I make amends.”
“May I, to the extent of my ability, give all needful help to my friends and to all who are in want. May I never fail a friend in danger. When visiting those in grief, may I be able by gentle and healing words to soften their pain. May I respect myself. May I always keep tame that which rages within me. May I accustom myself to be gentle, and never be angry with people because of circumstances. May I never discuss who is wicked and what wicked things he has done, but know good men and follow their footsteps.” Amen.
From our Torah (
If you’ve been following the 
Why does God want us to face the truth about death? Why does Moses ask God to teach us to “number of our days?” (Psalm 90:12). The reason is that by nature people deny the reality of death – they hide their eyes from it, ignore it, and pretend it’s not there – so they can continue to live under the illusion that they are in control of their lives, that they are the center, that they are immortal little “gods.” Death threatens the ego and humbles us to confess the truth about life, namely that we are not in control, that we cannot choose to be immortals, that we do not have power to exist in ourselves, and therefore we need life from a different source – spiritual life – wherein we receive a new identity and a new being found in relation to God.
Our Torah portion this week (i.e., 
Though it is good to ask questions about what we believe, to seek for understanding, and to study the Scriptures, we must do so using the principle that “faith seeks understanding,” rather than the converse principle that “understanding seeks faith,” since the latter elevates human reason to be the judge and arbiter of the things of God, a role for which it is both incapable and unsuited (Isa. 55:8-9; Job 9:10; 11:7; Psalm 139:6; Rom. 11:33). God is not a “what” but a “Who,” and that affects the means by which we know him (John 4:24). We certainly can know truth about God, though the instrumentality for attaining such knowledge transcends the abilities of unaided human reason (see Deut. 29:29).
“Choose life that you may live.. ” (Deut. 30:19). The most significant question God asks is whether you want to live or not. Albert Camus wrote, “There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy” (Myth of Sisyphus, 1942). Camus’ comment is not at all original, since this is also the ultimate question of theology as well. Do you want to live? Will you believe? Will you choose life and turn away from self-destruction? The Spirit of the LORD calls out: “Choose life that you may live…”
Yeshua said: “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever lives in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). We cannot create the new birth by means of moral reformation, since the divine life is a miracle from above and not the result of human agency or aspiration (John 1:13; John 3:6). If we “live in” Yeshua we will bear fruit – our spiritual connection or “union” with him is sufficient for every good work, but only fruit that derives from the life of Messiah will abide (1 John 2:17). Good works are a necessary consequence of regeneration in Messiah, but by themselves they are insufficient and something more is needed (Matt. 7:21-23). Therefore the Scriptures point to the salvation of God and his grace as the efficient cause for the miracle of newness of life: “Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us…” (Titus 3:5); “for by grace are you saved through faith, and that not of yourselves (τοῦτο οὐκ ἐξ ὑμῶν), it is the gift of God” (Eph. 2:8); “so if it is by grace, it is no longer on the basis of works; otherwise grace would no longer be grace” (Rom. 11:6).
Yeshua likened His relationship with his followers in terms using the metaphor of a vine and its branches: “I am the true Vine (הַגֶּפֶן הָאֲמִתִּית), and you are the branches” (see John 15:1-5). We derive our identity, life and strength from being made part of His life… The purpose of the branch is to be a conduit of the life of the vine. Vine branches by themselves are of little value, apart from the manifestation of fruit; they cannot be used for building things and otherwise are regarded as bramble (Ezek. 15:2-4). Notice further that the vine branch cannot bear good fruit while it remains on the ground: it must “climb” upward and be elevated. And if you look closely at a vine, it is often difficult to see where the vine ends and the branches begin.
Shalom friends. Our Torah reading this week honors Aaron’s grandson 
