In this post I reflect on Judaism’s teachings about how to relate to non-Jewish people with a new argument for appreciation.
I write this
reflection in the Crown Heights area of Brooklyn, New York. I am here
celebrating with all my siblings both my son’s wedding and my mother’s 80th
birthday. While walking around Crown Heights during my visit now, I have noticed
an apparently pleasant and easy coexistence between Jewish people and blacks.
This is different to what I remember.
When I grew
up in Crown Heights, I heard a lot of historical stories about non-Jewish
persecution of Jews, pogroms and blood libels. I also felt contempt, animosity toward
and fear of our non-Jewish black and Hispanic neighbours. These feelings about
people that we had little understanding of were also related to muggings,
burglaries and even murder. A young Jewish man named Avrohom Eliezer Goldman was
murdered mere meters away from my current temporary accommodation on Montgomery
Street[i].
I attended his funeral in 1977 as a seven-year-old boy. I still remember the
heart-rending recitation of psalms and the crowd. It was not easy for anyone
then.
Putting
aside judgement of our community at the time, it is a fact that with one
exception[ii],
as I grew up, I had a consistent sense of a generalised negative attitude to
non-Jewish people. There was no basis for me to admire the virtues of
non-Jewish people, their compassion or altruism or how faith might move them to
such stances.
This week I
learned something in relatively recent Jewish commentaries about the story of the
Biblical Joseph’s brothers that supports a more respectful approach (for readers
who want more details of the story, see [iii]
below).
Years after
Joseph’s brothers sold him into slavery, they met again during a time of famine
when they sought to purchase scarce food in Egypt. However, Joseph’s brothers
did not recognise him in the Egyptian viceroy he had become, but Joseph
recognised them. In this role, Joseph had them thrown into prison, on false
charges of espionage, a parallel to their depriving him of his freedom all
those years earlier. After three days, he offered to allow all of them, except
one hostage, to go home.
It is at
this point of the story that Joseph’s brothers finally express guilt over what
they had done to Joseph. “They said … but we are guilty, on account of our
brother, because we looked on, at the anguish of his soul, yet we did not listen,
as he pleaded with us. That is why this distress has come upon us.”[iv]
What led
them to this epiphany at this particular time and not before, even during the
three days of their imprisonment?[v]
It was their reflection on the Egyptian ruler’s statement: “Do this and you
shall live, for I fear God. If you are being honest [and you are not spies],
let one of your brothers be held in your place of detention, while the rest of
you go and take home rations for your starving households.”
The brothers
thought: “If this man who is not ‘from our faith’ is moved by faith in God
to show mercy for our starving families, who are strangers to him, whose
suffering he did not see, should we not feel regret for the way we treated our
own brother, whose suffering we did see, as he pleaded with us?”[vi]
Of course, Joseph
was not actually a person of another faith. Yet, the fact that the commentary
has the brothers acknowledging the way an apparently non-Jewish person’s faith
in God guided him to compassion is a source text for greater recognition of the
ways that non-Jewish people are moved to altruism. I hope it helps encourage greater
appreciation by Jewish people of non-Jewish people.
[i] https://www.nytimes.com/1977/06/14/archives/three-sought-in-killing-of-hasidic-rabbis-son.html
[ii]
The case of Dama Ben Netina, a non-Jewish man who excels in honouring his
father.
[iii]
A summary of the story told in
Genesis, Chapters 37-50.
Jacob had twelve sons but favoured his second youngest Joseph. He gave him a
special coat. Joseph’s brothers were jealous of him and intended to kill him,
but in the end sold him into slavery.
Joseph was taken to Egypt, where he was a slave. He was subsequently falsely
accused of seducing his master’s wife and was thrown into prison. Directly,
from prison he was surprisingly appointed to high office after interpreting
troubling dreams for the Pharoah. As the second highest official in Egypt,
Joseph – now with a new Egyptian name, Tzafnat Paneach - orchestrated a program
of food storage to prepare for famine.
When all his brothers except for the youngest, Benjamin, travelled to Egypt to
access some of the surplus food during the famine it was an opportunity for
Joseph to meet his brothers. They did not recognise him, but he recognised
them.
Joseph-Tzafnat - accused his brothers of being spies and told them that they
would only prove their innocence if they brought their youngest brother
Benjamin with them. After imprisoning them for three days, he released nine of
them to return home with food to their hungry families but kept one, Simeon as
a hostage to compel them to bring Benjamin.
When Benjamin arrived, Joseph contrived to have evidence of theft planted in
Benjamin’s bag. This presented an opportunity for the brothers to demonstrate
loyalty to Benjamin and complete their repentance for their betrayal of Joseph.
When the brothers passed this test, Joseph reconciled with his brothers.
[iv]
Genesis 42:21
[v]
Toldot Yitzchot and Maasei Hashem quoted in Tzeda Lederech by Yisocher Ben
Eilenberg, in Chumash with 11 Meforshei Rashi
[vi]
Be’er Hatorah and both in Chumash with 11 Meforshei Rashi
