Prophet Ezekiel
Michelangelo, 1510

My dear friends,

When suffering seems to have been handed down to us, or when our own past seems impossible to escape, the prophet Ezekiel speaks of a way forward. Our actions matter, yet no one is imprisoned forever by the actions of a parent or by the person they used to be. The laws of karma likewise invite us to take responsibility for what we do now, when change is still possible.

The proverb about sour grapes gives the children no agency: their fate appears to have been settled before they could act. Ezekiel refuses that despair. Each life belongs to God, and each person must answer for their own conduct. Karma, too, concerns the consequences of intentional actions; it is not a sentence inherited as personal guilt from one's parents. We can inherit hardship, habits, and unjust conditions, but these are not proof that someone deserves to suffer. Knowing this, a Bodhisattva meets suffering with compassion and works to change its conditions.

Past goodness does not make us immune to the harm we might do today. Each choice of thought, speech, and action can strengthen generosity and care, or deepen anger and self-interest. In this sense the moral life asks for continuing attention, not confidence in a reputation already earned. The Bodhisattva path calls us to notice harmful impulses as they arise and to refrain from acting on them, especially when others would bear the cost.

Here is the hope at the heart of the passage: someone who has caused harm can consider their actions and turn. In Buddhist practice, we acknowledge harm, make amends where possible, resolve to act differently, and cultivate habits that benefit others. This does not erase the hurt already done; its effects may still need care and repair. Yet a new intention, followed by new conduct, becomes a cause for a different future. No person should be reduced forever to their worst act.

The repeated charge of unfairness shows how readily we want a fixed account of what others deserve. Ezekiel instead asks the people to examine their own ways and turn from what is ruining them. Karma is not a tool for judging a suffering neighbor or explaining every misfortune. Its practical question is closer to this: What am I doing now, and what consequences might my actions bring to myself and others? Repentance begins when we face that question honestly and choose a different course.

“Get yourselves a new heart and a new spirit” is both an urgent invitation and a promise that transformation is possible. The divine will takes no pleasure in anyone's death; the call to turn is an expression of the desire that all may live. A Bodhisattva hears in that call a reason never to give up on anyone, including oneself. Through patient practice, compassion can grow where resentment once took root, and care for others can replace indifference.

My friends, we cannot choose the past, but we can attend to the intentions and actions we bring into this day. Let us acknowledge the harm we have done, repair what we can, and help one another cultivate a new heart. Turn, then, and live.