I got an awkward recent text message from a friend. It said, “On Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, I ask your forgiveness for anything I have done to cause you harm, even unintentionally.” That wasn’t the awkward part. What made it awkward was my reply, which was a smiley-face emoji followed by the one that looks like a party noisemaker.
In my defense, her text came during a busy morning, and I didn’t have time to reflect on the meaning behind the message. My friend is a lovely, thoughtful person who takes her Jewish faith seriously, especially its call to hold oneself to high standards. Yom Kippur is the day of atonement in her faith, and she planned to observe the day by asking her close friends for forgiveness.
I mean, I know that now. At the time, I thought she was kidding. When she didn’t respond to my emojis with something similar, like the GIF of the little girl giving her sister the side-eye in the back seat of the car, or maybe something involving a cat chasing a Roomba, I knew that she may have been serious.
That’s a pitfall of modern communication. We’re so snarky with each other that we, or maybe it’s just me, have a hard time knowing the difference between deadpan sarcasm and sincere religious expression.
She finally responded with a simple “?”
“Are u serious?” I asked, compounding the problem. Another unnerving silence followed, and then a long text, which is when you know you’re in trouble.
“Rob, this is actually one of the most important days in the Jewish faith. It’s a day for us to take an honest look at the things we’ve done — and left undone — throughout the year. I am asking my close friends to search their hearts and forgive me for whatever harm I might have done to them. I guess I’m curious as to why you thought I wasn’t serious.”
I have no idea why I’m like this — again, it was a busy morning — but for some reason, I replied: “LOL all good no worries.” Part of the problem here is that I am an Episcopalian and therefore uncomfortable with any expression of religious devotion. There’s an old joke that explains this perfectly:
Q: How do you get an Episcopalian to look at his shoes?
A: Mention Jesus. Or money.
The second part of the problem is related to the first. I don’t like to show up to a dinner party empty-handed. I bring a bottle of wine, maybe flowers, but always something. My friend had asked me, essentially, to celebrate her religious holiday with her. But I couldn’t think of a single thing she’d done to cause me even a moment’s harm, and it felt a little like I was letting her down. She was throwing an atonement party, and I came without a hostess gift.
“KK,” I texted. “I forgive you for making me think about this stuff when I am trying to set up a network pitch meeting. I forgive you for making my morning weird and awkward. We good now?”
We were not, apparently, “good now.”
“So in a sense,” she texted in reply, “you’re forgiving me for being an observant Jew? Do I have that right?”
At this point, I realized that the only way to settle this faith-based misunderstanding was to stop texting and place an old-fashioned voice call. She picked up on the first ring. Clearly, she had been expecting it.
I explained to her that it was a busy morning and that I was sorry that I had replied to her sincere and sober message in a flippant and thoughtless way. Yom Kippur is a deeply meaningful day, and her way of honoring it should have been an invitation for real reflection, not a series of silly texts festooned with emojis.
I wrapped up the call by offering an unreserved and full-out apology.
“I forgive you,” she said with a warm, we’re-all-good-now chuckle, and she hung up before I could say something snide like, “Why is it that on your Day of Atonement, I’m the one who has to apologize?” I was about to text that to her, but something told me that some thoughts are better left unexpressed. Instead, I sent her a GIF of a cat chasing a Roomba followed by a JPEG of a “Coexist” bumper sticker.
Rob Long is a television writer and producer and the co-founder of Ricochet.com.
