The Israeli psychiatrist Morton Kaufman, in his 1984 article “The Courage to Forgive,” was one of the first to suggest that when we forgive, we bear the burden—i.e., the wounds—of the injustice done to us.⁸ Benziman, in his essay, clarifies this idea further by noting that we bear this burden in such a profound way that the pain actually becomes a part of us, much like a scar on our bodies, and that the offender must carry the pain with her, too. In other words, we carry each other’s pain. This, to me, is an astonishing idea, one worthy of continual reflection and deep philosophical analysis.

This understanding of forgiveness is important for two reasons: First, it shows what forgiveness is in its essence; and second, it challenges us to work toward a goal that is good for both individuals in particular and communities in general. Research has demonstrated that, over time, as a person bears pain (emotional, cognitive, behavioral, and relational) caused by the injustice of others, that pain eventually lifts.⁹ In other words—and paradoxically—when people carry the pain caused by others, healing occurs. The original injustice itself can never be wiped away, of course, but it seems that the damaging effects can be. In contrast, when people refuse to carry the pain of the injustice done to them, the results are deleterious not only for them but those close to them. Indeed, it is not hard to see how bitterness and continued resentment can cause lasting psychological damage as harm our relationships with our children, our neighbors, and our associates. To bear the pain of being wronged, then, is to accept, quietly, the fact that another person hurt me, and to make a commitment to do no harm to that other—or any other—in spite of my wounds. This is a portrait of courage, temperance, wisdom, and even justice (since we see the wrong for what it was). Most of all, it is a portrait of extraordinary mercy and even love. Of course, as part of the nature of any virtue, we do not bear the burden or the iniquity perfectly: We can waver in our commitment to sharing the truth of the wrongdoing, and the other may do likewise. But if we do the best we can, then we do get better at it with practice.

When we bear the burden of a pain we do not deserve, we walk in the truth revealed to us in ancient Hebrew tradition: Namely, that the other who caused us pain, despite his wrongdoing, is made in the image and likeness of God, whether we like it or not. She is made in that image, in other words, even if she does not repent or ask forgiveness. My personal feelings are not the final arbiter of my decision to embrace this truth or reject it. Moreover, while the idea that man is created in the image of God is proof enough of the need to accept this truth for anyone from the monotheistic traditions, even a secularist or atheist might want to adopt it, as Kant suggests we do (i.e., to act as if God exists), since otherwise, we are left with no basis for morality whatsoever—including the decision to bear the pain of iniquity with the other, and on another’s behalf.