Absence of Honest Communication - Rebecca’s Marriage - Toldot

I have been thinking about people who are afraid to speak honestly to their intimate partners about difficult topics. This blog post is about those who are reluctant to speak and their partners, who might need to build the trust that makes open communication more likely and ‘safer’.

I was very surprised to learn that, in the Torah text (1) that contains Rebecca’s story, she never spoke openly with her husband, Isaac. In fact, she only spoke to him once in the whole story. In this instance, instead of disclosing her terrible fear that one of their children was scheming to kill the other, she talked about prospective marriage partners as a reason for her son – the potential victim – to leave town (2).

Although the Torah informs us that her husband Isaac loved her (3), and described their intimacy as laughter (4), their love and laughter did not necessarily lead to strong communication. When Rebecca felt distressed during her pregnancy she spoke about her pain, but not to her husband (5). She and her husband each had different favourite sons: Isaac loved Esau, but Rebecca loved Jacob (6). We do not read that they ever discussed their divergent views about their children. On Isaac’s deathbed, he decided to bless his favoured son, Esau. This was not acceptable to Rebecca, so she orchestrated for her favourite son, Jacob, to deceive her husband by impersonating his older brother (7). Perhaps a discussion between Rebecca and her husband could have prevented this drama that led to much pain for all concerned (8).

One commentator (9) suggests that this reticence began the moment Rebecca first saw Isaac. It was fright at first sight. Rebecca first set eyes on her future husband and quickly fell off the camel she was riding on, then grabbed a veil and covered herself (10). She fell of the camel out of fear, and veiled herself out of shame, believing that she was not worthy to be the wife of such a holy man (11). The veil was not merely an expression of modesty, but symbolic of the way Rebecca metaphorically veiled her personality in her dealings with her husband (12).

Rebecca’s reticence is remarkable in how it contrasts with the accounts of the other matriarchs and patriarchs who spoke out when they were upset. Sarah vented her simmering resentments passionately, when she felt slighted by her fellow wife, Hagar (13). Jacob expressed his anger toward Rachel when she demanded he solve the problem of her infertility (14).

Rebecca’s predicament illustrates the way some couples fail to communicate and suffer. No doubt, there are cases where they tried to communicate, and the response was disappointing. It could be that an expression of pain meets a defensive reply, or one that seeks to assign blame to the one complaining. It can be scary to give voice to unhappiness, and no doubt some partners decide it is not worth it. This blog invites two questions. One is to those of us who are reluctant to talk. Are we willing to think again about the possible benefits of speaking our truth and whether the risks can be mitigated in the way we talk? And the second question is to partners or family members who might be viewed as less than approachable. How do we ensure that our partners or family members feel safe and confident to talk to us and expect that we will listen with an open heart and mind?

 

Notes

 

1)     See from Genesis 24:64 to Genesis 27:46

2)     Genesis 27:46

3)     Genesis 24:67

4)     Genesis 26:8

5)     Genesis 25:22

6)     Genesis 25:28

7)     Genesis 27:1-29

8)     Haemek Davar, to Genesis 24:64, https://www.sefaria.org/Haamek_Davar_on_Genesis.24.64?lang=en cited in Lamm, N. Drashot L’Dorot, Genesis.

9)     Haemek Davar, ibid

10)  Genesis 24:64-65

11)  Haemek Davar, ibid

12)  Lamm, N. (2012), Drashot L’Dorot, Genesis. P. 105

13)  Genesis 16:5 as translated and interpreted in the Targumim Yonatan ben Uziel and Jerusalem for fuller detail

14)  Genesis 30:2

 

Equality, Desire and Being Known – Eve’s Perspective

I am Eve, known as Hawah to Muslims and Chavah in the Torah. My husband named me Chavah, because I am the Mother of all life (1). Thousands of years later, too many of my grandsons still behave chauvinistically, and many of my descendants also struggle with desire and intimacy.
 
Do not dismiss me as out of date. Yes, I was named by a man, but this does not imply ownership or superior/inferior status. On the contrary, it was an expression of respect (2). However, there was a journey that began with exploring questions of the status of the genders before Adam and I reached a level of respectful intimacy.
 
Before Adam and I met, Adam married another woman named, Lilith. Lilith was created from the earth just like Adam, so she thought she was equal to him and refused to be her husband’s “helper”. They fought, and she ran away (3).
 
In replacing Lilith, God declared that he would make Adam “a helper, opposite [or against] him” (4). This time the woman would be derived from Adam rather than the earth. This could change the power dynamic between the genders to favour men (5).  However, being a “helper-opposite” at least hints at the need to allow the spouse …”to occasionally stand opposite, to feel opposite, to think opposite… A life’s partner must be able to say no… [otherwise] the lips may be moving one way, but the heart may be saying no silently until the heart breaks from the weight of "nos" (6).  Perhaps "occasionally opposing" is not enough for equality, but it is a good start.
 
Well, the idea of me being constructed from Adam’s rib is not the only version of how I came to be. In another telling, Adam and I were both an individual and a pair at the same time. One side of the first human was male - Adam and the other female - me (7).  That explains the seemingly self-contradictory verse about us: “…in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them” (8). However, because we could not face each other God declared that “it was not good for the human to be alone” (9). Only once we were separated and could face each other would we [potentially] be able “to receive light in light, face in face”, and arise “satisfied as one” (10).
 
Great idea, but when Adam and I first met, he initially failed to fully appreciate me as a person despite us being ‘face to face’. Instead he thought of me as an extension of himself (11). Adam first called me woman, “Isha”, which is a variation of the Hebrew word for man, stating “this [not she, or you] will be called woman, because this was taken from man” (12). 
 
I was far from satisfied with this attitude. When I gave birth to my oldest son, I named him Cain and I declared “I have created (13) a man” (14). I rejected the argument that woman should be considered inferior on account of having come from a man, as I have demonstrated now that man has come from woman (15)! This naming speech was my rejection of male chauvinism (16).
 
My claims to equality were set back by our eating forbidden fruit, which Adam blamed on me (17). In response to that sin, God declared that women would desire their husbands, and husbands would rule their wives (18). This should not be taken as an instruction but as a prediction of an unfortunate problem, for humanity to address (19).
 
Despite the unfortunate aspect of that situation, it had a silver lining. Eating fruit from the tree of “knowledge of good and evil” introduced a new element of sexual desire between Adam and me (20). After “our eyes were opened” (21) and our innocence lost, Adam finally noticed me as a person in my own right and gave me an individual and personal name, Eve/Chavah (22).  To celebrate our arrival as a loving couple of equal and unique people who deeply respect each other, God clothed us in garments of light (23). For us, despite the difficulties, we found the possibility of true love and respect. I wish you the same.
 
 Love, Grandma Eve-Chavah-Hawah
 
Notes
1)       Genesis 3:20
2)       Sacks, J. (2009), Covenant and Conversation, Genesis, Magid Books and the Orthodox Union, Jerusalem, p. 33-37
3)       Alef Bet of Ben Sira, Zohar Bereshit, 34b and Vavyikra 19a, Torat Hachida Bereshit, 70, p. 23
4)       Genesis 2:27
5)       Torat Hachida Bereshit, 70, p. 23
6)       Rabbi Shlomo Riskin, in Lubotzky, Y. & Mark, R.  https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0272/7831/1512/files/brushes-all_03r.pdf?v=15699884950348939191,  p. 18
7)       Talmud, Brachot 61a
8)       Genesis 1:27, note the shift from singular to plural
9)       Genesis 2:27,
10)    Zohar, part 3, 44b.
11)    Sacks, J. (2009), Covenant and Conversation, Genesis, Magid Books and the Orthodox Union, Jerusalem, p. 35-36
12)    Genesis 2:23
13)    Translation follows Radak
14)    Genesis 4:1
15)    Abarbanel
16)    Casuto, in Pardes, Ilana. "Creation According to Eve: Beyond Genesis 3." Jewish Women: A Comprehensive Historical Encyclopedia. 27 February 2009. Jewish Women's Archive. (Viewed on October 5, 2020) <https://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/creation-according-to-eve-beyond-genesis-3>.
17)    Genesis 3:12
18)    Genesis 3:16
19)    Bernbaum, T. https://www.chabad.org/theJewishWoman/article_cdo/aid/90765/jewish/The-Curse-of-Eve.htm
20)    Radak
21)    Genesis 3:7
22)    Sacks, J. (2009), Covenant and Conversation, Genesis, Magid Books and the Orthodox Union, Jerusalem, p. 36
23)    Bereshit Rabba 20:12 as explained in Sacks

Increasing Closeness During Social Distance - Vayirka

Photos taken by me, of the same mushrooms on my
forest morning walks near St Ives, one day apart. 

In a weird way, I am feeling more emotionally connected now than I have felt for a long time. I feel like I’m a bit Aboriginal with their kinship system, or that I am moving from an “I and It” orientation to a “We” centred way of being (1).  

A week ago, there was a moment when I stood looking at empty shelves in the St Ives Coles supermarket. Potatoes, other vegetables, eggs, pasta - all gone! It seriously disturbed me. I am embarrassed to write this. People have died and will continue to die from this disease, while many others have lost their jobs, and spouses and children in abusive homes are suffering extreme distress.  It seems wrong to think about anything else. However, the reality is that we humans are spiritual beings living in animal bodies, and we’re desperately dependent on our next feed. There are things that we describe with pronouns like “it”, that are very important to us.

My children recently arrived back from Crown Heights in New York where the rate of contagion is high. Usually that is an occasion for hugs, but not this time. Fortunately, we have some space in the house to cordon off areas for them to be isolated in, but I am worried about the spread of this plague, so I am self isolating and working from home. While I like my 'things', like my office, it is more important to do my bit for the broader effort and stay home. I must sacrifice an “it” for the sake of the “we” that is the other humans in this city. The Torah’s word for sacrifice is essentially the same word as closeness (2) and the intention of the animal sacrifices in the temple was to create closeness with God (3).

People like me, who are privileged to be able to continue our jobs and earn a living from home, should spare a thought for those who cannot. I think of service workers in the US, such as those described by Jesse Jackson many years ago: “...women, who [put their own lives at risk to] clean out the bedpans of the sick, wipe the sweat of fever on their foreheads, change their clothes - and when they got sick, couldn't lie on the [same] bed they'd made up every day”! (4)

The term social distance is inaccurate (4). What we need is physical distance between bodies, rather than social distance between our spirits. Yet, we are seeing some evidence of the latter. Angela Kim, an Australian nurse with Asian ancestry recently wrote on Facebook: “I just saw a post with a picture of Asians on a bus saying they are hoarding from regional places. If this is true, I'm sorry. I myself am an Asian and I am deeply saddened to see people panic buying and being selfish during the crisis. But myself, my family, my friends and my colleagues being Asian, are not like them... So many times I get called out with racist comments on the street with anger. ...Generalisation occurs easily when there's fear and anger. ...please have an open mind, not all Asians are the same”.

Angela’s anguished post touched me. Other posts address generalisations about religious Jews' compliance with distancing. These are just some examples of the pain people are experiencing. A silver lining for me at this difficult time has been to tune in more strongly to other people. I am using social media and my phone more intentionally as a means of care, compassion and companionship. On Sunday, my family and I got dressed up for a cousins’ wedding in New York and recorded ourselves dancing in Sydney, as a way of being there for a family member. I am noticing wonderful anecdotes of kindness on social media. I hope that the terrible sacrifices and the suffering caused by this virus might lead to a brighter future for some people, in some way. But I am focused on the here and now - to increasingly support each other, as well as care for ourselves.

Notes

1)     From a conversation with Michelle Brenner, influenced by the work of Dr. Alan Watkins and others. 

2)     Korban, קרבן is the word for sacrifice, while Karov קרוב is the word for close. The root of both is ק.ר.ב.

3)     Likutei Torah based on Leviticus 1:2. It elaborates there on the spiritual meanings of various sacrifices, eg. to sacrifice an ox is to commit to reduce aggression, while a sheep represents selfish indulgence as manifest in sheep spending their days eating grass.

4)     https://www.nytimes.com/1988/01/19/us/the-basic-speech-jesse-jackson-from-a-tradition-of-marching-for-jobs-and-rights.html  

5)     Ghassan Hage in a facebook post on 16.03.2020 “we spend so much time teaching students the difference between social and physical distances and here is the world normalising the usage of social distancing to mean physical distancing. what’s required is physical distancing, right?”

Seeing and not seeing - Reflections on my trip to family in New York - Noach

I'm sitting on a flight back home from New York with my young son. Last night both of us danced the night away at the wedding of my niece. I am still savouring the joy of being with family, and observing the delight of my young child. Yet, my tradition, turns our attention to sadness amid joy. A glass is broken during the Jewish marriage ceremony to remind us of loss 1).  Oddly, this sombre gesture is not honoured by a reflective silence, on the contrary, immediately after the crashing noise everyone erupts into joyous exclamations of Mazal Tov! Shifting our awareness away from and almost subverting the touch of sadness. This blog is a reflection on choices relating to seeing and “embracing all that is” 2).

My time in New York has been both happy and sad. I've spent time with my parents and siblings and my oldest three sons who are studying away from home. I feel unsatisfied with the short time we had. Our ten days together were cluttered with tasks and competing priorities. In the story of Noah’s ark, a family is in close proximity but they are so busy feeding the animals, including the nocturnal animals that the husbands and wives don't manage to organise to leave the ark together 3). Yet, it is in the mundane physical domain that love is often expressed, in a meal baked or bought, dishes cooked or cleared.

I was confronted by the importance of the physical dimension of love at a memorial service I attended in New York for Mendel Brickman, a friend and a father who died one year ago in his mid-forties. His spirit was felt strongly in the room in the words of his children and widow, and in a talk by a hospital roommate who was touched by his energetic kindness, and care. His spirit fought courageously against his loss of breath and health. He was always focused on the positive. In a sense, Mendel beat mortality by sheer force of will and his living on in the lives of his family. Still, they miss his physical presence, and so do I and so many others.

In acknowledging our physical humanity, we are confronted by the human imperfections we all have. In the first instance it's about averting our eyes from the embarrassing aspects of the other person. Two of Noah's sons covered their father's nakedness when he was drunk as they chose not to see his disgrace 4). A selective view of others is often appropriate.

However, sometimes we must choose to see and acknowledge disgrace and act. While in the US I learned of the revelations about the abuses of power by a movie mogul that were allowed to go on for too long. Powerful men feeling entitled to women's bodies is referenced in the Bible as a reason for Noah’s flood. “The sons of the Gods saw the daughters of men, that they were good [looking], so they took any women they chose” 5) even without consent 6). The Torah could not be more emphatic in its condemnation of this behaviour.

In summation. There is merit in an approach that generally emphasises the positive and overlooks some faults and sad parts of life. On the other hand, there are challenges relating to human frailties that need to be noticed and talked about in workplaces, communities or families. Ideally, talk would resolve matters in accordance with the teaching that ‘to be reconciled over a glass of wine is to have an aspect of the mind of God’ 7). In other cases people can show support in a range of ways from taking action to simply being there for each other with care.

Back in my seat on this plane I can see daybreak over the Pacific and I can see my content little son sitting beside me. I feel grateful.

Notes

1. The breaking of the glass is symbolic, particularly of the destroyed temple in Jerusalem, but it represents broader loss.
2. Bennett, P. In the Cranky Guru
3. Talmud Sanhedrin 108b Comment on Genesis 8:19 and as explained by Torah Temimah on this verse.
4. Genesis 9:23, see Rashi commentary
5. Genesis 6:2
6. Ramban, Ibn Ezra on Genesis 6:2
7. Talmud Eruvin 65b

Embracing the Living Unpredictable - message to a bride and groom

Here is a brief thought that I shared with a bride and groom this Sunday when I performed their wedding.

We read in the Torah of a decision about a proposition that was deemed too risky to go ahead with. The proposition was a serious long term relationship with a partner who was practically invisible, had done amazing acts of kindness, a real saviour who would do anything, even turning water to blood and overpowering a tyrant dictator of a Pharaoh, but was demanding and unpredictable and given to flaring up in wrath with a serious smiting habit. The pre-nuptial agreement was with the lawyer. She said it needed some work to adequately protect her client. The proposed relationship was between God and the Israelites. Israel decide to explore other options.

Instead they embraced an alternative option which a much lower risk profile. A Golden Calf, it didn’t get angry. It was a golden opportunity, always glowing, absolutely stable and unchanging and moulded exactly as one wanted it! No demands. No smiting.  It was a tragic mistake. It was lifeless! We need to embrace uncertainty, makes mistakes and correct them. Respond with curiosity to our differences. We are on an adventure!

Bold! - Vayera

“I was too afraid” is one of the sadder things I have heard people say to their family members when explaining why they didn’t tell their son or spouse something they thought the other would not take well. This blog post is about the merit of being bold, taking risks at a personal level as well as at the political level. The latter is front and centre for me because I am meeting with key people at both federal and state level and will be advising them to do something “courageous” in the words of “Yes Minister”.

I was sitting at my desk thinking about the Australian Curriculum Review when I received an email from one of the authors of the review, Dr. Kevin Donnelly. He suggested that I look at his recommendation number 15 as well as what he wrote regarding religion and spirituality on page 155; he also directed my attention to some harsh criticism of his suggestions. The timing could not have been better.

Recommendation 15 reads as follows: “ACARA revise the Australian Curriculum to place more emphasis on morals, values and spirituality as outlined in the Melbourne Declaration, and to better recognise the contribution of Western civilisation, our Judeo-Christian heritage, the role of economic development and industry and the democratic underpinning of the British system of government to Australia’s development”.

Recommendation 15 can be seen as simply promoting one heritage above others, without considering how this might impact on intercultural understanding.  However, thanks to Dr. Donnelly, I read this recommendation in the context of his broader writing on the subject. It is beyond the scope of this post to unpack it all. Suffice it to say that, based on the points he raised, I think it is reasonable to suggest to Governments that they boldly embrace a modified, inclusive version of this recommendation. This can foster interfaith understanding, and is standard practice in the UK and in many countries around the world.  This approach could provoke criticism on the part of people who object to either Christian or Muslim content in the curriculum. However, a group of academics and practitioners, known as “REENA”, have been engaging secularists and religious people to support the inclusion of religions and other world views in the curriculum. 

With the funeral of Gough Whitlam on our minds, it might be time to look afresh at the merits of bold government action.  

The theme of fear and courage also plays out in the Torah reading in the relationship between Sarah and Abraham, her husband. Three visitors, messengers from God, promised Abraham that Sarah would give birth to a son (1). Sarah overheard this and laughed. God complained (2) about Sarah‘s laughter and lack of faith in this divine promise, due to her advanced age (3). When confronted by Abraham, Sarah denied that she laughed because she was afraid  to tell Abraham that she doubted what he appeared to believe.   

One commentary states that “Her fear is compared to a loyal servant who fears (upsetting) his master and erred... When the master reproaches him for what he did…he can’t find the strength to admit what he did because of the great fear, so he denies it but, in the denial itself, he (implies) that it was true that he did so”. 

However, Abraham tells Sarah it is more fitting to admit that she did laugh because God wants people to acknowledge their wrongdoing (4).  Equally, that was what Abraham wanted and Sarah needed - to discuss their different initial responses to the angels’ prediction and to know that it is ok in their respectful relationship to confront difficult issues.

There are many reasons for fear. This is a call to overcome fears with courage.

Notes:

(1) Genesis 18:10
(2) I am bothered by the fact that God spoke to Abraham about Sarah, rather than talking to Sarah directly. According to one commentary, it is not God who directly accused Sarah, but one of the messengers (angels in human form), sitting inside the tent with Abraham. The angel could be seen to be addressing Sarah’s doubt, thereby completing his mission of reassuring them about the miracle of a child in their old age (Radak, Rashbam, R. Bachya. Note: the word “God”, can also be understood to mean God as represented by the angel.
(3) Genesis 18:12-15
(4) Ohr Hachayim

Interaction between “the Certain”, the “Chosen” and the Text Ki Tavo

Photo copyright by Damien Begovic, Dialogue at the
Together for Humanity stall at the Multicultural Eid Festival
18 August 2013, Fairfield, Sydney Australia

Yesterday I was surrounded by a civil, well intentioned, confident group of bearded young Muslim males of Arabic and other backgrounds. I was in my element, I had been warmly welcomed by the organizer of this outreach event, I was offered dates and Arabic coffee, I had lovely conversations with several Muslims that I knew previously and we were talking religion. While on one level I enjoyed the next discussion, there was something a bit challenging with the rather robust dialogue I got into with this group, I felt like I was being targeted for conversion. When I reflected on it and my own reactions to this experience as well as other heart-warming experiences this week, it got me thinking about what works in interfaith interaction and on one of the topics we discussed, the notion of the Jews being God’s chosen people.

Ahmad  asked me about a verse in the Torah that he thinks predicted the rising of another prophet like Moses. The text states “I will set up a prophet for them from among their brothers like you, and I will put My words into his mouth ”. I had never thought of it as relating to a specific prophet and explained to him that the Torah has at least 70 different explanations. That was not good enough for him, there had to be one right answer, otherwise “there will be confusion”. So I explained that the verse refers not to one specific prophet, but to the concept of prophecy which applied to many men and women. I got the text on my smart phone and showed the context of the verse. It follows a warning not to seek superficial certainties through sorcery, but instead to seek guidance from God’s messengers. This made little impression on Ahmad and his friends, who continued to insist that I was wrong because the singular form of the word “prophet” proved that it was talking about one person.

Ahmad then posed a much more powerful challenge relating to the relationship between God and the Jews vs. God’s relationship to all people. Did I believe in a tribal God of Israel or a Universal God of all people and things? What did I think about the chosen people? These questions could have led to a thoughtful exchange that would have helped all of us gain greater understanding of each other’s’ faiths.  Unfortunately at this stage, my headspace was anything but thoughtful. Instead I was part of a game I never agreed to play, that of seeking to convince each other about truths. The absurdity of it, was that here I was being challenged about the meaning of my own sacred text by people who had limited knowledge of it and could not read it in its original language. This is always a bad move. We are on much safer ground when we speak about our own text and show openness to those who follow a text to tell us what it means to them.

In a more curious dialogue, I would have compared Jewish and Islamic texts relating to the way that Moses introduces God to Pharaoh (Firaon in Arabic). In the Torah, Moses states: "So said the Lord God of Israel, 'Send out My people’’ " and he also refers to the “God of the Hebrews ”. In the Quran we a significant difference in the way Moses (or Musa) refers to God. He states: “Oh Pharaoh! Lo! I am a messenger from the Lord of the worlds…I come to you with a clear proof from your Lord. So let the children of Israel go with me ”.  The Islamic text presents a universal God of the “worlds” who is even the Lord of Pharaoh himself.  Putting this in context, God is introduced as the creator of the universe, who is terribly concerned about injustice in the pagan society of Sodom.  I would argue that Jews clearly see God as universal rather than what I regard as the ridiculous notion of an exclusive Jewish God.  The idea of a God of Israel is more about the dedication of Israel to the one God than it is about ownership in the way that people talk of the sports team they are fans of as being “their team”.

The question of the Chosen people is often taken to mean that Jews have a sense of superiority. It is hard to argue with that interpretation when we consider the text in the reading Ki Tavo. “the Lord has selected you this day to be His treasured people, as He spoke to you, and so that you shall observe all His commandments, and to make you supreme (higher), above all the nations that He made… ”. I do not take this as a license to chauvinism or arrogance. I would broadly agree with the Muslim woman I enjoyed a most respectful conversation with at our Together For Humanity stall we had on Sunday at the Multicultural Eid festival. She understood choseness as reflecting the fact that the Jews had chosen to worship and believe in God. One commentator understands the key word האמירך (He-Eemircha) which some translate as chosen, to mean that He caused you to say and be willing to be a people for (eg. committed to) God because he did so many miracles (for the Jews) . The context clearly shows that the people were chosen to obey commandments.

Another commentator sees a strong universatlist agenda in all this. The purpose of the Jews special status is not for their benefit but for God to achieve through them what he wanted to achieve with the human species. The elevation is for the purpose of understanding and teaching monotheism .  I prefer these explanations to the one that suggest that even if another nation (Umma in Hebrew) will come and will do good, and will try to attach to the Divine presence they will not be able to acheve the level of Israel  . Not all interpretation is convenient, and I need to present a balanced view.

The discussion with Ahmad and friends continued to confront me. I explained that in Judaism there is no need for others to convert as long as they obey 7 key principals (laws for all children of Noah), one of which is establishment of law and justice which I interpret as including participation in the democratic process. I got an argument against democracy in favour of theocracy.

After this exchange, I talked to three other Muslim men one of whom was concerned about how I might have felt after the unofficial debate/conversion effort. Another walked me to my car and engaged me in a real open minded and open hearted conversation reflecting genuine curiosity and true gentleness of spirit. In my short conversation with him I learned some interesting similarities between Islam and Judaism as we understand Satan/Shaytan as an agent of God whose role is to tempt us. I put the more challenging (but not “bad” experience in context of all these much more pleasant conversations this week and indeed even at the same generally enjoyable event.  This little confrontation pales into significance when I compare it with the highlight of my week when Jewish students from the Emanuel School recited the blessing after meals among mostly Arabic Muslim students at Punchbowl Boys High School, followed by a dozen Muslim students doing the afternoon prayer in unison. Both groups of teenagers silently showed the greatest respect for each other, followed by genuinely curious questions, seeking understanding.

Certainties and claims to Choseness present challenges as well as opportunities for learning about each other and how to get along.

Elephants Talk & Silence

This image is from http://david.sickmiller.com
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

Yesterday a Muslim educator taught me something very powerful about silence. Students from Australian Arabic Muslim families will be meeting with Jewish students in the coming weeks in the aftermath of the death, despair and destruction in Gaza and Israel. From an adults perspective, it is “the elephant in the room”, that needs to be discussed. Yet, the educator pointed out that by discussing it in the context of an interfaith school program we are giving an implicit message that Israel and Palestine should be seen as integral to interaction between Jews and Muslims in Australia. He thought the right message for his students in that particular context is that we are Australians of different faiths who are learning to respect and like each other.

On the other hand this week, I spoke with a number of educators responsible for supporting migrant children, some of whom are likely to lose their jobs due to government cuts. I began the discussion with the inspiring clip from Martin Luther King Jnr. He invokes Moses standing on the mountain top seeing the promised land of Canaan that he will never reach but to which his people will soon arrive. King says that he too is facing hard times, but despite having loved to live a long life, “it doesn’t matter about me now…because I have been to the mountain top and I have seen the Promised Land…” and he was confident that his dream would be realised. The message to the teachers was although it is a difficult time, the work they do and the broader shift to at least a general acceptance of diversity is unstoppable. Having acknowledged the difficult issue on people’s minds and seen it in this context was really uplifting, we were then able to discuss other matters.

The following is a more general reflection on speaking out and silence mostly written in 2010 but still relevant.

The obligation to speak out or be silent

If we are silent in the face of apparent injustice, at least certain circumstance we can be considered complicit in it. Speaking Talking about our grievances, might result in resolution, or at least give us the feeling that we did what we can. The negatives of silence need to be considered against the problems arising out of speaking out. In some situations, our critique can be ill-informed, driven by unconscious and unsavory motives, cause unnecessary embarrassment, or fail to achieve anything apart from defensiveness, hostility or even escalated offending behaviour and “push-back”. The Talmud comments about the people in its own time[i], there was no longer anyone with either the ability to offer or accept criticism[ii].

Style. Wording, tone, privacy/audience etc.

“It's not what you say, but how you say it”- is a view that I don't think is true all the time, but it does have some merit. The commandment in Leviticus (19:17) to rebuke, rebuke your fellow[iii]4”, is followed with a caution “and do not bear sin because of him” which is interpreted as demanding concern, in some circumstances, about humiliating the person being criticised.

Being wrong – asking a question

If we approach what appears to be a problematic situation with a recognition that we might not have all the facts, we can carry our responsibility to stand up for justice without judging others unfairly. Our patriarch Jacob sets a friendly tone and uses the approach of asking a question of a group of shepherds that seems to be workers, idle on the job. “My brothers, where are you from?” Jacob begins, after some small talk he observes “The day is still long, it is not time to gather the flocks, give your sheep some drink and go take your sheep to pasture[iv].” The shepherds explain that they are unable to carry out their next task without more help because there is a big stone on top of the well that can only be moved when their colleagues arrive so they can all give water to their sheep. No harm done.

Unresolved issues- One cost of silence

A sad, but rarely discussed episode in the lives of the biblical Rachel and Leah occurs when their brothers and father (Laban) become resentful of Jacob's prosperity. Their brothers are heard saying to anyone, but the accused party “Jacob took (stole) everything that belonged to our father , and from what belonged to our father he created all this honour[v]”. Jacob notices, Laban's face, “and it is clearly not the same as it was yesterday, and the day before that”. He had accepted the slander (Lashon Harah- evil tongue) against Jacob[vi] without bothering to check with Jacob about his side of the story. The opposite of “when a man sins against another man, he should not hate him and be silent...it is a Mitzvah to notify him and say, why did you do this to me?[vii]”

Jacob and his wives, Rachel and Leah discuss the need to leave the employ and town of Laban over his on-going financial mistreatment on the part of their father. The two daughters/wives reply, “Do we still have any part or inheritance in our fathers house? Did he not consider us as strangers to him, selling us and eating our money”. I find it very significant, that neither sister ever said anything to Laban about their hurt feelings or anger about being sold to Jacob. Jacob also does not talk to Laban about his complains about the financial dealings, instead explaining only to his wives that Laban changed “my wages, 10 times”.

Unlikely to be heard

To rebuke someone involves some hope that it might help. The Talmud states that just as we should say words of rebuke that will be heard, it is a Mitzvah (Commandment) not to say that which will not be heard[viii]. As a Christian Australian Member of Parliament, Shayne Neummann, pointed out to me a while back, it is hard to imagine Jacob having any confidence in talking to Laban after he substituted his beloved Rachel with Leah. Especially, considering that when Jacob first protests to Laban “Why did you deceive me”, instead of an apology, Laban attacks Jacob cleverly saying “it is not done thus in our place, the younger before the older”, implying like you who usurped the right of your older brother Esau. Clearly, Laban's rebuke of Jacob is driven by an ulterior motive, seeking to justify his own wrong doing. A caveat on the principle of rebuke that will not be accepted is that in some cases where our silence can be seen as acquiescence, we need to consider the wider audience, not just the perpetrator.

Conclusion

There is a western idea that talking is always good.  I think it is ethical and wise to consider the situation and benefit or harm that will be caused by either speaking or being silent.  

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[i] The content of the Talmud was developed between approximately 100 bc to the year 300 CE

[ii] Arachin 16b. Also discussed on www.chaburas.org/rebuke.html

[iii] Leviticus (19:17)

[iv] Genesis 29:7

[v] Genesis 31:1

[vi] Seforno

[vii] Mimonedes, Yad, hilchot Deot, 6:6

[viii] Talmud, Yevamot 65b