Synagogue Attack and “Wrong” Emotions

5 May 2019. The following blog post was written early last week. Death is now raining down on the people of southern Israel and Gaza. I feel devastated. I was also deeply saddened by the loss of Lori Gilbert-Kaye when I saw two images side by side: one with her and her daughter in joy together, and a second of her distraught daughter at her grave. May her memory be a blessing.

27 April 2019. It is Monday morning and I am tired. My Facebook feed is overflowing with expressions of collective grief and condemnation relating to the attack on a Chabad synagogue, in California on Saturday. Text messages of support from Arab Muslim friends are received and gratefully acknowledged. Otherwise, I say nothing publicly. A human being was murdered, a precious life taken, injuries and trauma inflicted in this attack on Jewish people from my community. It follows massacres in Sri Lanka, Christchurch, Pittsburgh and Egyptian places of worship. A jumble of thoughts and feelings flow through me, but I have no clarity.  

I feel like I am 7 years old again, at summer camp in the Catskill Mountains. My cousin was in hospital then. He had fallen out of a second floor window a week earlier. I was not terribly upset on that particular day. I remember vividly walking with my camp counselor between the house we were staying in at the infirmary when he told me I was a “Pay-Tzadik” (a bad person) because I was not sadder or praying for my cousin. I felt deeply ashamed and confused.

Of course, I agree with the people, both Jewish and not Jewish, who urged more love and less hate. It is just that the words have been said so many times that they sound hollow to me. It was the raw outpouring of grief and outrage across the world that I felt unsettled by.  

There was a time when I would be part of the choir. I would feel that this is not just any mass murder. No, this is an attack on us! When I was growing up in Brooklyn and we heard about a tragedy the first question was if there were any Jews involved. Now it was the Jews in a Chabad synagogue who were involved! Should I have felt like emoting like crazy? Instead I felt inclined to be quiet.

In the past my loyalty to my own people was questioned by others because of my empathy with Muslims. This time I questioned myself. Why am I not more upset about this?

It must be said that it is, generally, not useful to judge ourselves for having the “wrong” emotions. I care about hatred of Jews and I have done more to counter this than many of the emotional posters on social media. This matters more than the intensity of my current emotions.

Research into reducing social distance between members of minority communities and the “white” population found that it is possible “to improve children’s attitudes toward a racial outgroup without causing a negative impact on their feelings toward their [own] racial ingroup”¹. I wonder if that finding is entirely true for me. Does my identifying with Muslims and Aboriginal Australians and empathising with their plight make me less tuned in to my own people? I am not sure.

What is clear to me is that we must care for “our own communities”, however we define them, as well as for those from backgrounds that differ to ours². It is not for me, or any advocate for coexistence, to minimize the hatred against any group, and that includes Antisemitism in all its forms, which is wrong and must be combatted.

30 April 2019. The one emotion that I am both drawn to at this time to but also feel a little reluctant about is hatred toward bigotry itself. I think we learn from a young age that hatred is a bad emotion. The Torah commandment states “do not hate your brother in your heart”³. One commentator interprets the words “your brother” in this verse to indicate the degree to which we must avoid hatred. He argues that even the kind of hatred which is merely to feel a small measure of distance, e.g. to feel not quite like a brother, is still forbidden⁴.

Perhaps because of teachings such as these, hatred is a taboo emotion for many people. Yesterday I asked a group of Muslim and Jewish twelve year olds spending a day together: if hatred is so bad, why did God create hatred? The students replied that hatred was created for the purpose of being rejected, or as a contrast so we can better appreciate love.

It is nice to hear these sentiments but I think hatred has a purpose. Once, a gay student in a Together for Humanity program stated that she thought it was ok to hate her tormentors, her peers who taunted her and made her life miserable. One opinion in the Talmud suggests that hating evil doers has merit ⁵. Thankfully, this idea has been so heavily qualified and restricted according to one scholar ⁶, as to make it practically meaningless in terms of hating people. Instead we are taught to hate evil deeds ⁷ rather than sinners. I certainly and passionately hate, the twisted thinking, the indulgence of stupid lazy and insular thinking that legitimised the murder of a Jewish woman in a synagogue. I will continue to work to counter it.

Notes:

1.     Levi, S.R., West, T. L., Bigler, R.S., Karafantis, D.M., Ramizez, L., Velilla, E. (2005) Messages about the uniqueness and similarities of people: Impact on US Black and Latino youth. Journal of Applied Development Psychology 26 p.728

2.     Ethics of the Fathers, 1:14

3.     Leviticus 19:17

4.     Ohr Hachayim commentary, translation/adaptation is from Sefaria.org. His “approach to this verse is based on the unusual structure of the verse. It should have read: "לא תשנא בלבבך את אחיך, the word "in your heart" which we consider central should not have been written at the end. [Based on his understanding of Hebrew Grammar] the source of the hatred, the heart, should have been mentioned before the object of the hatred, a fellow Jew. ...the message is that a person should not think that the Torah only forbids the kind of hatred which is the forerunner of acts of revenge or violence but does not forbid harbouring ill feelings towards someone in one's heart. By mentioning the object of one's hatred immediately next to the prohibition to hate, the Torah made it clear that even the kind of hatred which is not related to acts of retaliation is forbidden. As soon as a person distances himself mentally and emotionally from his fellow Jew he begins to violate the prohibition of hatred as defined by the Torah in this verse”.

5.     Talmud Pesachim, 113b, Maimonides in Yad Hachazaka, Hil Rotzeach Ushmiras Nefesh 13:14

6.     Tanya, chapter 32

7.     Beruria in the Talmud, Brachot, 10a

My Slavery Sermon: “Fat", Privileged & Uncaring

People just don’t care - I often find that infuriating!

But, the reality is that I don’t care enough about some things either, like modern day slavery for example. This sad fact came to my attention as I prepared to deliver last Saturday’s sermon as part of an interfaith initiative to combat modern day slavery.

I had prepared this sermon long in advance in collaboration with Rabbi Shoshana Kaminsky (1) for the organisation, “Stop the Traffik”. So I began with the staggering figure from the 2016 Global Slavery Index which reported that nearly 46 million human beings are currently trapped in slavery.  This is the highest number of slaves in human history. I then shared the following anecdote.

Ashani’s (not her real name) father was sick, but the family had no money to pay for needed treatment. Ashani accepted a loan that she believed she would repay by working in a Mumbai factory, but when she reached Mumbai she discovered that her job would not be in a factory but in a brothel.

Trapped, powerless and penniless, she suffered in this place until finally she worked up the courage to escape. She returned home and soon married. However the brothel sent men to find her and force her back. They beat her up. When her husband tried to protect her, he was beaten too. She found herself not only back in the Mumbai brothel – but also pregnant. When her son was born, she was fortunate to get him back to his father.

Ashani owed 20,000 rupees, or around AU$400 but she was earning only a few dollars each day, and she was forced to pay rental for her cubicle in the brothel and for her room, board and clothing. She would realistically never be able to pay off the debt. She was enslaved. Ten women from Stop the Traffik readily agreed to pitch in $40 each to buy Ashani’s freedom.

I am ashamed to admit that Ashani’s story speaks to my mind but not to my heart. Perhaps this is related to what social scientists have discovered about the nature of empathy. Research has revealed a clear ‘empathy gap’ whereby our empathy is essentially geared primarily toward people we identify with, eg. neighbours or others who seem to be ‘like ourselves’ (2). This quirk of nature means it is harder for me as a white middle class Jewish Hasidic man to connect with the experience of an impoverished, brown skinned, non-Jewish, woman forced to work as a prostitute.

The challenge of the empathy gap must be met with a principled engagement with causes such as modern slavery. I look for inspiration from the prophets. Only a few days ago on Yom Kippur we read from Isaiah (3) about a person who cried out to God, "I have fasted but you have not seen!” God replied, “You fast but with a clenched fist!”  This is not the fast God desires. Instead, God demands that we “Loose the chains of wickedness...to let the oppressed go free and to break every yoke.”  The highest form of charity is not to share more crumbs from our tables but to ensure that more people have a seat at our tables of plenty.

My faith does condemn or shame me for having abundant material possessions. On the contrary, commentary tells us that God made the Israelites “ride on the high places” (4) (plural), giving them both material and spiritual blessings (5). Privilege, like power is an opportunity that can be harnessed for doing good but which also carries risk and responsibility. The Torah phrases the danger as the Israelites having become “fat and kicked” (6) also becoming “thick”, losing capacity to understand “fine truths” (7). Equally, privilege can dull people’s capacity to connect with the  brutal reality of the 46 million slaves who are, of course, really people just like me.    

The products of modern day slavery are found in the homes of ordinary citizens in every western city and town. They are present in our shops and supermarkets. Some years ago I was inspired by a teacher  who told me how her students learned to look for a Fair Trade label (8) on a soccer ball, so that when they play sport they are part of the solution rather than part of the problem.  

The Torah calls us to “cry freedom in the land for all its inhabitants!” (9). This phrase is surprising because the context is freeing slaves rather than everyone. However, a 17th century scholar explained that “in any country where freedom is incomplete even if only a few are slaves, all the people are slaves. Slavery is an affliction which afflicts both slave and master” (10).

Having focused on these traditions, I have jumped the empathy gap and now care more about my fellow humans who deserve freedom as much as I do. I commit to doing what I can to advance this cause.   

1. http://stopthetraffik.com.au/freedomsunday/ for another version of this sermon that was prepared in collaboration with Shoshana, the version on my blog is closer to the sermon I actually delivered.  
2. Prinz, J, Is Empathy Necessary For Morality, http://subcortex.com/IsEmpathyNecessaryForMoralityPrinz.pdf accessed 14.04.2015
3. Isaiah 58:3-7
4. Deuteronomy 32:13
5. Samson Raphael Hirsch on Deuteronomy 32:13
6. Deuteronomy 32:15
7. Seforno on Deuteronomy 32:15
8. Stop the Traffik http://stopthetraffik.com.au/  is a rich source of information for us when we shop for clothing and for foods that are sadly connected with slavery, including fish, coffee, and chocolate.
9. Leviticus 25:10
10. Pnei Yehoshua, Joshua son of Joseph Falk, 1593-1648,

Selective empathy and relationships with 'others’ - Vayetzei

Terror has struck ’us’ again. I write ’us’ referring to Westerners who identify with the Paris victims. I feel angry about this attack against ordinary people in a Western city. A terrible destruction of life perpetrated against people who live in a ’normal’ city like I do. I am surrounded by outrage and solidarity expressed in French flags, on Sydney’s Harbour Bridge, the Opera House and all over Facebook. But surely, every life of a non-combatant taken violently is an utterly unacceptable violation of the sanctity of life?

I am disturbed to read Facebook posts by my Arab and Muslim friends rightly expressing their hurt at the implication that French lives appear to matter more to Westerners than Arab or Muslim lives. Some posts list the names of places where Arab or Muslim blood has been spilled, including the terrible attacks in Beirut. Yet, none of these posts mention the recent stabbings of Israeli civilians. I feel a deep sadness about the selective empathy so much in evidence right now. 

 

The term ’selective empathy’ is almost a tautology because researchers in this field explain that empathy is by its very nature geared toward people we see as being like us. We can overcome this natural tendency to limit our circle of empathy either by calling on increased compassion (which is not naturally restricted to people like ourselves) or by changing our relationships with ‘them’ so that they become part of ‘us’.

The inclusion of those we are unfamiliar with and whom we regard as alien can feel quite threatening. After the Biblical Jacob left his village and the people familiar to him he put rocks around his head when he stopped for a nap along the way. This act is considered highly symbolic.  Jacob protected his mind from the influences of a new place. Only his hands, symbolising action, were to connect with the new place, but his mind had to remain ‘unpolluted’(1). 

Despite the fear some people have about how they might be changed or lose their identity, they do often make efforts to connect with the other. When Jacob met the ‘strangers’ among whom he would live he addressed them as ’my brothers (2)”. It is easier to regard people as abstract threats when you are not interacting with them face to face.

Although Jacob approached the locals in a spirit of friendship (3) and love, (4) the natives responded without enthusiasm. His three questions were met mainly with one-word answers (5). According to commentary there was a dismissive comment about how he talked too much—so he might as well talk to ’Rachel who is a talkative one, just like you’. (6)

In our experience in the work of Together For Humanity, we have found that outsiders, such as Muslim teenagers, are often more motivated to connect than those who are more settled. In one case, a few years back, Muslim state high school students posted repeatedly on an electronic notice board but their Jewish peers never got around to responding. In another interschool program the school with Muslim students was keen to continue the relationship into a second year but the mostly ‘white’ school opted out. Sadly the goodwill of the ’outsider’ is sometimes weakly reciprocated.

Jacob, the outsider in our story, was cheated by a local man in full view of ’all of the men of the place (7)’. Their father Laban switched his promised bride, Rachel, with her older sister, Leah.  When the stranger protested against his unfair treatment, his complaint was dismissed with a reprimand about local customs. ’It is not done this way in our place to give the younger before the older (8)’, said Laban. Later, when Jacob prospered, he faced resentment from his brothers-in-law (9), just as his father had earlier as a foreigner in the land of the Philistines. 

Relationships between people who perceive each other as different can be fraught. In my experience, empathy grows when we manage to transcend differences and stop seeing people as ‘the other’.  Perhaps a practical first step is to recognise and accept our own limited feelings of empathy and our closeness to some people more than others, and pray for Paris if that feels right for us. Then one could take a step back and ask: ‘How can I be more equitable in my concern so that I can contribute to more inclusive, just, compassionate outcomes for all people— wherever and whoever they are?’ 

1.       The Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi M. M. Schneerson, Likutei Sichos volume one, first Sicha

2.       Genesis 29:4

3.       Midrash Hagadol, cited in Torah Shlaima, Vol .2, p. 1158, 15

4.       Radak

5.       Genesis 29:4-6

6.       Pirush Hatosafot Hadar Zkainim, cited in Torah Shlaima, Vol .2, p. 1159, note 18

7.       Genesis 29:22

8.       Genesis 29:26

9.       Genesis 31:1      

Closing the Empathy Gap with the “unlike”

Last night I had a powerful experience that relates to the issues of discrimination and compassion for people who seem different to “us”.

At a skilfully facilitated session (1) led by Shoshana Faire and Chantelle Ogilvie-Eliss (and initiated by the recently departed social justice champion, Elizabeth Ban) we were asked to tell as personal story that relates to one of four values themes.

 I told a story about something that didn’t happen. I didn’t show up at a birthday party on a boat for my non-Jewish friend Ray. Ray had been a good friend, he helped me when I had car trouble, he was loving and generous in his attitudes and words about me personally and he also volunteered huge amounts of time for a project we did together. Yet, I didn’t attend his special celebration. Perhaps I didn’t forget. It might have never fully registered in the first place. I am ashamed to say it, but at that early stage of my cross-cultural interfaith journey, I think I had a deep mental block about personal friendship with a “goy”. 

The six men and women I sat with shared anecdotes about freedom and cross cultural acceptance. Then we heard from a Hazara boy who recently finished school and a Tamil schoolgirl of 17 about their values, like charity, compassion, caring for others, independent thinking, fun playing volley ball and education. We really connected! I certainly care more now about the plight of asylums seekers subjected to cruel policies in Australia, than I cared yesterday before this session.

I think the power of the experience last night relates to two ideas discussed in the academic literature. One is that “research indicates a strong inverse relationship between levels of prejudice and empathy (2) and suggests that “invoking empathy can reduce racism levels (3) ”. This research found that empathy is more significant than information in countering prejudice. Yet, another scholar argues “We have more empathy for those we see as (being) like us”. In one research experiment “when viewing pictures of faces, people showed more empathetic responses, as measured by physiology and self report, for members of the same ethnic group” and that”empathy leads to helping only in cases when the  person in need is a member of the in‐group (4)”. This sounds like a ‘catch 22’, empathy is key to countering prejudice, yet empathy is least likely in cross-cultural situations, unless of course one can come to see “them” as one of “us”. This was certainly achieved last night. 

It is appropriate that the Torah reading this week deals with the un-kosher bird, called the stork in English but “Hasida” in Hebrew. There is a belief in Judaism that non-Kosher animals have bad characteristics, yet the name of the stork, “Hasida” is related to the word “Hesed” which means kindness. Yet our traditions teaches us that the stork is only “kind to its friends”, or its “own kind” (5). My prayer is that more Australians can extend our tradition of mateship to our fellow humans seeking safety and a better life on our shores. Let us all realise that “they” are “us”.

Notes:
1)    The event was hosted by the NSW Jewish Board of Deputies in collaboration with the Sydney Alliance
2)    Batterham, D. (2001). Modern racism, reconciliation and attributions for disadvantage: A role for empathy and false beliefs? cited Pedersen, A., Walker, I., & Wise, M. (2005). Talk Does Not Cook Rice: Beyond anti-racism rhetoric to strategies for social action. Australian Psychologist, 40, 20-30.
3)    Finlay & Stephan, 2000 Finlay, K. A., & Stephan, W. G. (2000). Improving intergroup relations: The effects of empathy on racial attitudes, cited in Pedersen
4)    Prinz, J, Is Empathy Necessary For Morality, http://subcortex.com/IsEmpathyNecessaryForMoralityPrinz.pdf accessed 14.04.2015
5)    This theme is further developed in my post http://torahforsociallyawarehasid.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/flawed-idealists-hasidim-prejudice.html

Enemies

Tyrant Turned to Toy  by Divine Power

When I first started out as a Rabbi, I did a lesson for young adults in which I talked about the greatness of God expressed in punishment of the wicked. A participant challenged me; why would we aspire to that instead of just wishing for peace for all. Good point, I thought.


Since then, I have been moved by the way some Christians seek to love their enemies. I see that idea as radical, visionary and subversive; not accepting the dynamic of conflict and hate but rather insisting on a spiritual approach grounded in love. This is not a comparison between Judaism and Christianity or their histories, I am well aware of the blood shed by Christian crusaders. I also think the fact that Jews were powerless for 2000 years is a factor. This is an honest exploration of my own tradition and familiar stories to discover ideas about the response to enemies I had not noticed before. I have discovered some legalistic elements, but most exciting was a radical and subversive aspect to what could seem to be callous harshness.

Playing with enemies?!

According to one traditional translation[1], we have a seemingly scary idea about enemies. God tells Moses that in the future, “you will tell into the ears of your son and your son's son how I played with the Egyptians[2]”. Putting aside other translations that reject the meaning of “played with” instead rendering the Hebrew word הִתְעַלַּלְתִּי, as “my actions[3]”, can it be right that God has fun punishing people?! A sloppy translation of another verse would seem to support this idea, “just as the Lord rejoiced over you to do good for you and to increase you, so will the Lord rejoice over you to annihilate you and to destroy you[4]”.  The Talmud argues convincingly that the meaning here is not that God will rejoice over annihilation but rather will cause others to rejoice[5] in the destruction of the Jews. The Talmud categorically states that God does not rejoice in the downfall of the wicked[6].

Non-Fun-Play

The meaning of God’s play with the Egyptian tyrants is about subversion of power rather than fun. The verse about Kings and Nation, “He Who dwells in Heaven laughs; the Lord mocks them[7]”, is explained as “a metaphor for mockery about something that is not considered anything[8]”. The tyrants with their exaggerated self-importance and trappings of power can seem invincible. Yet, the Jew, threatened, beaten, ridiculed and humiliated can take comfort that the Pharaoh in his/her own day may yet prove to be a plaything of God, like Saddam or Muammar in our recent times.

Funny Honda Boss

Here is a personal anecdote that is an illustration of the subversive power of humour.
As a Yeshiva student, I was sitting in the library late one night with a book while some of my fellow student has broken the lock to the kitchen and were frying shnitzels when they should have been in bed. The head of the Yeshiva, a bit of an absent-minded professor type, came screaming up the street in his orange Honda, vrrroommmrrmrmm.  He throws the door open to the building and screams at the top of his lungs, “Ahh Chutzpehhhhh!” All the guilty young scholars are by now safely in their beds, their lights out, while the Shnitzels continue to fry as if being cooked by ghosts. The authority figure- my Yeshiva head, runs up and down the stairs through the building like a ball in one of those old pinball machines. He finds no one, until he discovers me in the library. He gave me what sounded like a very harsh long angry lecture about how I was destroying the whole school. I put on a very sad puppy-dog face, nodded my head and was not in the least bit offended by the whole comic spectacle.

Does punishment upset God?

The mystics state that when we talk of divine emotions, these are not to be understood in human terms[9] at all and are essentially metaphoric. In this vain, one commentator understands the verse relating to rejoicing about the destruction of the Jewish people as being a message that one should not  “think that God will be harmed, or will mourn” if he must punish us[10]. This is linked to the verse “If you are righteous, what do you give Him? Or what does He take from your hand?[11]”

Other sources suggest that God does care about the suffering of the wicked. In introducing the story of the splitting of the red sea[12], in which the Israelites were saved while the Egyptians perished, the word Vayehi  וַיְהִי (literally “and it was”, but linked to vai, or oy vay) is used which traditionally is used in situations of pain and sadness. This is attributed at least in part to the death of the Egyptians[13]. We are told that the angels wanted to sing praises to God for the miracles at the red sea. God exclaims, “the work of my hands are drowning in the sea and you will sing praises?![14]” Even, this is not simple, in another version of the same story God objects because he wants  the angels to wait until after the Israelites sing of their own salvation before the angels get their turn[15], but does not object to the singing itself at a time of great human suffering.  Yet, the view is better known among Jews is not the one in which God is concerned with the sequence of the praises, but his rejection of the content of the angels praise because of his care about the destruction of the wicked. This view is also reflected in at least one meaning behind the ritual of pouring out drops of wine at the Passover Seder in sympathy for the suffering of the Egyptians[16].

Other less pleasant approaches – all out war and legalism

It might make sense to stop while I am ahead, yet I think it would not be completely honest. Jewish responses to enemies also include less attractive options such as fighting them directly, and acting cleverly or even legalistically. I have little I can say about the take-no prisoners-wars against Amalek[17] and Canaan except that they challenge me.

Another approach is also difficult. The “clever”/legalistic option which is seen in the Jews either borrowing (or asking[18]) their Egyptian neighbours for “silver and gold objects and garments[19]”, just before they left Egypt and never returned. There is a strong attempt to make this technically Kosher. After the Jews left Egypt, Moses having told Pharaoh that they were going to the desert for three days[20], the Jews suddenly turn back toward Egypt[21] . This was because God “did not want the Jews to be liars, as you had said we will go for three days and will return and borrowed vessels…therefore you should turn around to stand on your faithfulness…” Perhaps conveniently, Pharaoh goes out to war against them and does not allow them to return so it will be his fault that they cannot go back or return what they borrowed [22]. Oh well.

Yet, there is a broader context here. In the Talmud, this act is justified as constituting a round about way of receiving the unpaid wages for the Jewish slaves[23]. There is surely a difference between being legalistic when one is in the right or when is in the wrong. The message for me in this is that there are times when things get messy, where broadly speaking one is morally entitled to fight, even in those situations it is important to dot the i’s and cross the t’s. I don’t think it is about legitimising legal fictions and legalistic arguments in cases where the broad moral balance is against the action one is taking.    

Conclusion

There is more to the sources than first meets the eye. While playing games with people is generally wrong, when God does it to a tyrant there could be a message of hope in it. Despite Judaism’s ultimate aspiration for universal peace, it is has a range of ideas about managing conflict until that time. One of these is the deep sadness of the loss of every human life, even if he is a soldier in the army of a wicked oppressor. Of course, using legalistic arguments to defend the indefensible is inexcusable, yet legalistic considerations have their place in the pursuit of justice, even the case of an unforgivable crime such as the slavery in Egypt. The letter of the law must be considered, even if one is in the clear according to its spirit. Some of this is uncomfortable for me, other aspects are inspiring, but this is what I have been able to find for now.  

---

[1] Rashi, Ramban, Chizkuni, translate הִתְעַלַּלְתִּי as meaning either played with or mockery, relating to a similar word to in Isaiah 3:4, the same understanding of the word is supported by MaHari Kra, Metzudat Tzion, and Metzudat David

[2] Exodus 10:2

[3] Targum Unkelus, Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel. Another alternative relating to pruning a vineyard is found in a manuscript of Lekach Tov, cited in Torah Shlaima parshat Bo, p3-4

[4] Deuteronomy 28:63

[5] Talmud Sanhedrin 39b, the spelling of the word relating to rejoice over the destruction  is spelled  יָשִׂישׂ  which means will cause others to rejoice, if it mean that God Himself would rejoice the spelling would have been with ו a instead of a י

[6] ibid

[7] Psalms 2:4

[8] Meiri commentary on the Psalms

[9] Tana Dbei Eliyahu

[10] Ibn Ezra commentary on Deuteronomy 28:63, this is so out of step with the Talmud Sanhedrin that Avi Ezer states that Ibn Ezra must have overlooked it

[11] Job 35:7

[12] Exodus 13:17

[13] Ohr Hachayim

[14] Talmud Megila 10b, and Sanhedrin 39b

[15] Shemot Rabba 23:8

[16] Rabbi Yitzchok Abarbanel in his Passover commentary Zevach Pesach, cited on http://www.askmoses.com/en/article/169,2202336/Why-do-we-pour-wine-out-of-the-cup-at-the-Seder.html

[17] Exodus 17, is where it first appears 

[18] The Hebrew word is וְשָׁאֲלָה which although it can mean borrow, it can also mean ask for an outright gift which is how it is understood by Rabbenu Bachaya and Rashbam, cited in Leibovitz, N, (1996) New Studies in Shemot, The Joint Authority for Jewish Zionist Education, Jerusalem, p.188

[19] Exodus

[20] Exodus 3:18

[21] Exodus 14:2-4

[22] Bchor Shor, Mosad Rav Kook edition, 2000, Jerusalem p.120

[23] Talmud Sanhedrin 91a

The Golden Rule and the meaning of life and Judaism (3 approaches)



Putting yourself in someone else's shoes



“And you should love to your friend like yourself[1]” is a literal translation of the “golden rule” as it appears in the Torah. I suggest that the way one understands this verse relates to how one thinks about the meaning of life or at least Jewish life.

Three approaches to Judaism and life

1 Essentially about God & Doing His will. “All that the Holy One Blessed Be He created he did not create (for any other purpose except) only for His glory[2]”. I describe this approach as seeing Judaism and life itself as being all about God[3] or faith[4]. For Chasidim one of the great ideals is “Bitul”, cancelling or nullifying oneself. The action is the main thing[5], not the way we feel about it.

2 Essentially about Man & Being complete. Alternatively, we can see all the commandments as being essentially about people and their spiritual and personal development. “The Mitzvot (commandments were not given (for any other purpose) but to refine people by them[6]”.  The Person was not created for anything but delighting in God, in the world to come…if a person is victorious in his struggle.. he will be the completed man[7]. Among some “Litvak or Yeshivish” Jews the ideal is to become a “Gadol”, a big or great one. In one sense this is almost the opposite of Bittul, of cancelling the self, instead there is an ambition to be the greatest person one can be. I think in certain respects approaches 1 and 2 compliment each other, yet it is at least a question of greater emphasis on one or the other and seeing the other as perhaps secondary and included in the primary purpose.

3 Not essentially about any one thing A third way is to reject the notion of one essential concept or meaning, instead seeing Judaism as a series of laws and practices. This is expressed in the first half of a well known story. 

“On another occasion it happened that a certain heathen came before (the sage) Shammai and said to him, "Make me a convert, on the condition that you teach me the whole Torah while I stand on one foot." Thereupon Shamai chased him away with the builder's cubit that was in his hand[8].

While Shamai seems just impatient, there is a deeper meaning to the exchange. The Heathen was seeking “one leg and foundation for the whole Torah. It says that Shamai uses a builders cubit to chase him away to hint to him that just as a building cannot stand on just one foundation, so the Torah is broad it its commandments (and) it is impossible for it to be given one foundation[9]”.

A second opinion

The same Heathen then went to the sage Hillel who said “What is hateful[10] to you do not do to your friend this is the entire Torah, the rest is commentary, go and learn it”. At least according to Hillel, the empathy requirement is central to the rest of Judaism, but how can 613 commandments that deal with not just ethics but also rituals and celebrations all essentially be about empathy?  

A mystical view of the commandment

R. Shneur Zalman of Liadi addresses this problem. He sees the commandment as applying only to Jews and discusses this as part of a general spiritual approach in which the “body is despised in his eyes[11] and his only joy is the joy of his soul…[12]”. The Soul is taught to be a part of God that is different to our normal self that is thought of as the animal soul. The person, having downgraded the importance of the body and the (known “animal soul”) self in favour of the unconscious Godly soul, arrives at a perspective in which there is no difference between oneself or the other person. The only part of either that matters is the unknown soul. This is supported by the idea that “there is one Father to all of us, and for this reason all Jews are called brothers … It is only the bodies that are separate”[13] love of another should follow.

This way of looking at the commandment can justify Hillel’s statement about the centrality of this commandment, because to obey it properly requires a complete transformation of the way one sees oneself from being a physical person to primarily being a spirit with a strong focus on the divine.

Adaptation of the approach to a more Man-centred approach

I have always thought R. Shneur Zalman’s approach to this commandment could be combined with a more man centred approach. I think that to reach the point where one “despises” his own body and ego is one that few will pursue, and fewer still will achieve. Still I think a parallel process can be pursued in which one becomes more sensitive, God conscious, tuned into spirituality, beauty, and love. This transformation is achieved by obeying the other 612 commandments and the Torah as a whole.

The context of the commandments is in a section that begins with being commanded “you should be holy[14]”. This is explained as a requirement to become a disciplined, refined human being. While the Torah permitted intercourse within marriage, eating meat and drinking wine, there is a risk that a person can be come a hedonist glutton and a drunk, “a degenerate with permission of the Torah[15]”. In practicing moderation and restraint a person is refined and better prepared for empathy.  

 

Parallel in Modern Research

According to R. Sheneur Zalman’s approach, however applied, we need to experience a shift in our self concept which results in the other person no longer being seen as an “other” but as part of the new concept of the self as spirit. I think this has some similarity to a shift discussed in anti-prejudice literature. “Many (anti-prejudice) interventions designed to reduce stereotyping, prejudice, and racism produce limited effects, if any, that do not persist across time and do not generalise across situations and groups… Part of the problem here stems from the fact that such interventions usually try to change views of a particular outgroup. A more effective route to change is by changing views of the ingroup. If the ingroup is redefined psychologically and socially to be tolerant, inclusive, and diverse, then changes in intergroup relationships are inevitable and will more likely be persistent and generalisable”[16].

Universal application

This links back to the question of whether the commandment applies only between Jews or toward all people. There are sources that suggest it is a limited commandment[17]. Some do not state any distinction[18], although they do not give any indication that it includes non Jews. A more recent commentary explicitly states that this “something which is expected from us toward all our fellow men in the name of God”[19].

Reality Check and Limited application

The commandment seems to be simply to love others as we love ourselves, but is this possible? It is even right? We know that one’s own life comes first[20]. In Talmudic sources, the response is to apply the command to practical and manageable situations. “Choosing a nice death” for someone deserving capital punishment[21], a prohibition for a man to marry a woman (presumably through an agent) until he sees her, lest he see something disgusting in her and she will be despised to him[22].  For a similar reason, marital relations are forbidden during the day[23]. Other sources, highlight the use of the letter ל (Lamed) which is a prefix meaning the word “to” in the word לרעך (literally, you shall Love to your friend). If the commandments was to love your fellow, it should not say “to”. Instead, this suggests acting in a loving way[24] to your friend.

Being vs. Doing

I wonder if there is a link between the limited application of this soaring commandment to the first and third approaches to Judaism, (all about God’s will, or a series of non-intrinsically connected instructions). If Judaism is not just about doing God commands, but also about each of us becoming a finer, gentler, more sensitive, noble and even holy person than surely the command should mean what is says in its simplest sense, truly loving others as we love ourselves!

Conclusion

Regardless of how the different approaches influence this commandment, I acknowledge that some of the most accomplished refined people I know have been schooled in the path that never encouraged people to try to be anything. On balance other altruistic people I know are Atheists, Muslims and Christians. For less accomplished people, each approach can be abused, the God centred becoming insensitive seeing the experiential as meaningless, treating the commandments like a giant celestial ‘donkey kong’ game with each act just being a point to score. The man-centred can become arrogant and self-centred, those of the 3^rd orientation, mechanical. Personally, I find the man centred approach resonates most strongly for me.

Regardless of approach, here is a final piece of guidance, “if you wish to attach yourself to love of your friend, deal with matters that are for his benefit… as it is written Love to your fellow like yourself (and in a play of words this is reinterpreted to mean), because you acted lovingly toward your friend, he became just like you[25], you will love him[26]. Through “doing”, we can truly “be” what we were meant to be.

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[1] Leviticus 19:18

[2] Pirkey Avot 6:11

[3] Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi in the Tanya expresses this as follows, “and this is the whole of man, and the ultimate purpose of his creation and the creation of all the worlds, the higher and the lower, for there to be a dwelling place for Him, in the lower realms” (Chapter 33)

[4] “Habakuk came and stood (all the commandments) on one, as it states and the righteous will live by his faith” Talmud Makot 24a

[5] Pirkey Avot 1:17

[6] Beraishit Rabba 44:1, or “all the commandments of the Torah whether positive or negative are a means to the attainment of human perfection” – R. Yosef Albo, Sefer Haikarim III, chapter 27, cited in Insights: A Talmudic Treasury, (1990), Weiss, S, Feldheim, Jerusalem, Spring Valley NY, p.235

[7] Mesilat Yesharim, the Path of the Just, by Rabbi Moshe Chayim Luzato, chapter 1

[8] Talmud, Sabbat 31a

[9] Maharsha commentary to Sabbat 31a, similar approach to the question is taken by Klei Yakar

[10] One reason suggested for why Hillel states this principle in the negative is that there are “some things that are good for you but bad for your friend-  R. Yisroel Salanter, cited in Insights: A Talmudic Treasury, (1990), Weiss, S, Feldheim, Jerusalem, Spring Valley NY, p.96

[11] This is not advocating fasting or self flagellation, one must care for the body as a “kindness to the embarrassed one”, it is about identifying with the soul and dis-identifying with the body and the ego

[12] Tanya chapter 32

[13] ibid

[14] Leviticus 19:2

[15] Ramban

[16] Pedersen, A (2005), Walker I, Wise M, ‘‘Talk does not cook rice’’: Beyond anti-racism rhetoric to strategies for social action”, Australian Psychologist,  p24 citing Pettigrew, 1998, and Wright, Aron, McLaughlin-Volpe, & Ropp, 1997,

[17] Mimonedes, laws of mourning, 14:1 “..do to your brother in Torah and commandments”, also Torat Kohanim, Kedoshim 18:4, and Mayan Ganim, cited in Kasher, R. Menachem (1980) Torah Shlaima, Vol 32, p 69-71, of course Tanya’s argument is based on it being just Jews

[18] Kala Rabati chapter 4, (cited in Torah Shelaima), Bchor Shor, p 214, Chizkuni, Ramban, Ibn Ezra

[19] R. Samson Raphael Hirsch on this verse

[20] Talmud Bava Metzia 62b

[21] Talmud Sanhedrin 45a, 52a, and 52b, Ketubot 37b

[22] Talmud Kidushin 41a

[23] Talmud Nidda 17a

[24] Bchor Shor, Mosad Harav Kook Edition p. 214, Chizkuni, Mosad Harav Kook Edition p. 390,

[25] Kala Rabati chapter 4, Derech Eretz Zuta chapter 2, cited in Torah Shelaima, p 71

[26] Chizkuni, p.389