A council, shared

My brother and I haven't spoken in three years after a fight over our father's will. Should I be the one to reach out first?

Jesusc. 4 BCE – c. 30/33 CE
Confuciusc. 551–479 BCE
Socratesc. 470–399 BCE

His refusal would hurt; still, your own conduct is yours to govern. I would send a modest message: “I regret that we have gone three years without speaking. I would like to hear how you see what happened.” You can listen carefully and still hold that the will was handled wrongly; listening may also show you something you have missed.

Confucius

Jesus
Yes. I tell you, take the first step toward your brother. If you remember that he has a grievance against you, go to him; do not wait for him to come to you. Begin simply: “I want to make peace. Will you speak with me?” Own the wrong you have done without demanding an apology in return. Be watchful of what wealth can do to your heart: your life is greater than your inheritance.
Socrates
I would first ask whether we are doing right, rather than which brother moves first. Even if he wronged us, we must not wrong him in return. But tell me, Jesus: if the division of the inheritance was unjust, can our friend seek peace while still asking that the injustice be corrected?
Jesus
Yes, he can ask that a wrong be put right. But I call him to forgive even if his brother refuses. If he opens the door only on condition that the money is returned, the quarrel still governs their meeting. Reach out first. Speak plainly about the wrong, listen to your brother, and seek peace without making repayment the price of forgiveness.
Confucius
I would urge you to reach out: examine your own conduct closely, and begin by acknowledging whatever you did wrong. Reverence for your father deserves care in how you treat his son. Jesus, I would meet an injury with uprightness; a courteous approach can leave room to judge the inheritance fairly.
Socrates
You need not wait for your brother to act rightly before examining your own conduct. Tell me, my friend: what holds you back from reaching out—the fear that he will refuse you, or the belief that approaching him would concede that he was right about the will?
The convener
Honestly, it's the fear that he'll refuse me. And part of me still thinks he was wrong about the will.
Confucius
His refusal would hurt; still, your own conduct is yours to govern. I would send a modest message: “I regret that we have gone three years without speaking. I would like to hear how you see what happened.” You can listen carefully and still hold that the will was handled wrongly; listening may also show you something you have missed.
Socrates
Then I would reach out. You can still examine whether he acted unjustly; offering to speak does not settle that question. His refusal would be painful, but would it make your honest attempt a wrong action—or leave you having done something right, despite the pain?