Putting the past behind us

Photo by herval

Exodus 21 is the first of three chapters that deal with a complicated set of rules (ordinances) God presents to the people of Israel. When we look at these rules with a modern eye, some of them appear to be archaic and even cruel. However, when you look at it given the practices that were common at the time, they seem almost revolutionary. There are a number of issues worth noting, like the progressive – for that time – treatment of slaves and the complicated system of tort law. However, one concept jumps at you:

But if any harm follow, then thou shalt give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.

I wrote in the past that my problem with the “eye for an eye” concept is that too many people lose their eyes. Still, when you read this there is a sense that there is something deeper in this idea.

Research on the Tit for Tat strategy has shown that it is the most effective strategy in a multitude of game theory scenarios. Some claim it explains how human (and some animals) ended up in cooperative societies. While the basic concept seems a bit barbaric, the power of this concept lies is the ability to forget.

We hear of too many disputes and blood feuds going on for years at a time. In those cases, every transgression is answered with another harmful behavior from the other side. This leads to horrible death spirals where people can’t even explain why it all started. There is something appealing in saying: “I did you wrong. I recognize that. You wronged me back. You recognize that. Let’s move on, forget the past and focus on cooperation in the future”.

There is a story by Tanzan a Buddhist monk and professor of Philosophy at the Japanese Imperial University:

Tanzan and Ekido were once travelling together down a muddy road. A heavy rain was still falling.

Coming around the bend, they met a lovely girl in a silk kimono and sash, unable to cross the intersection.

“Come on girl”, said Tanzan at once. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her over the mud.

Ekido did not speak again until that night when they reached a lodging temple. Then he no longer could restrain himself. “We monks don’t go near females,” he told Tanzan, “especially not young and lovely ones. It is dangerous. Why did you do that?”

“I left the girl there,” said Tanzan. “Are you still carrying her?”

Sometimes we need to learn to put the past behind us.

Elad