Belonging and Difference Vayerah

On Wednesday night I listened to Ian Thorpe speak at a dinner in aid of my brother’s charity, the Jewish House. Ian talked about his experience as a world record breaking Olympic champion swimmer, who also struggled with mental health challenges. He gave a riveting account of the mental struggle to win an Olympic swimming race in the last few seconds after being behind. But more importantly, he touched on his experiences of coming out both as gay and as someone suffering depression.

Mr Thorpe did not elaborate on his experience of coming out. However, the need for acceptance by people we care about and a feeling of belonging among them, is so important to all of us. As I explored the Torah reading this week I learned that Abraham was also concerned about his social ties. Abraham had been instructed to circumcise himself as a sign of a covenant between him and God. However he was concerned that this act “would set him apart from his generation, in his skin and flesh. This might lead to him not being able to welcome guests anymore as they would stay away from him…” (1) This surprised me a little, because I had the impression of Abraham as the Iconoclastic outsider - champion of monotheism is a world of polytheism - who embraced his “otherness” (2).

On Thursday morning, I reflected on my experienced at the dinner where I sat among some 1000, mostly Jewish guests, who were there in aid of the Jewish House’s services for people in crisis, such as homelessness, mental illness, and domestic violence. While I on the same page as the crowd last night regarding support for the needy, I wonder how many of them agree with my interfaith work. When it comes to that aspect of me, do I fully belong? It is useful for me to keep in mind that Abraham combined otherness in pursuit of his vision and principles with caring about being connected to his community. Indeed, at the end of the night, one guest shared with me her belief in the spiritual validity of my work with people of other faiths. 

The combination of being accepted and being true to oneself is not always easy. A choice one needs to make is whether to hide some parts of ourselves or "come out". Abraham consulted his friends about the merits of going public about his next step in otherness and decided he would publicize his decision to circumcise himself  (3).

The flip side of this is accepting that sometimes there are communities that won’t accept you and might not even be worth belonging in. Abraham’s nephew, Lot, sought to integrate with the xenophobic society of Sodom. (In Jewish tradition, the wickedness of Sodom was primarily expressed in their cruelty to visitors or poor outsiders). Lot appeared to succeed when he was appointed as a judge by the Sodomites (4). This thin veneer of acceptance of Lot by Sodom fell away quickly when Lot showed his commitment to hospitality. An angry mob of Sodomites reminded Lot that he was an alien and threatened him (5).

It is not easy to accept the fact that some social connections are not working and one needs to move on. Lot was instructed by angels to leave Sodom before it would be destroyed and take him down with them. Yet, Lot hesitated, and had to be dragged out of Sodom (6). Lot and his wife were warned not to look back (7). It is important not to ruminate about what might have been. However the separation from Sodom was difficult for Lot’s wife and she turned back, perhaps in sadness about those left behind (8). The consequence of turning back for Lot’s wife is that she was instantly turned into a pillar of salt (9). 

It is entirely appropriate to seek closeness with one’s communities, even if there is not a perfect value alignment, but there are times when separateness is appropriate. In those cases, it is ok to be sad, but it is important “not to look back”.

Notes

1)     Toras Hachida, Vayera 5, p. 103, based on Midrash Rabba

2)     See Likutei Likburim by the 6th Lubavitcher Rebbe, R. YY Schneerson, who talked about the concept of Ivri as one is on the “other side” to the rest of society

3)     Toras Hachida, ibid

4)     Rashi to Genesis 19:1, based on Bereshit Rabba 50:3

5)     Genesis 19:9, as interpreted by Sacks, J. (2009) Covenant and Conversation, Maggid, Jerusalem, p. 112-114

6)     Genesis 19:16

7)     Genesis 19:17

8)     Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer 25,  in Torah Shlaima, 145, p. 812

9)     Genesis 19:26

Uncompromising Approach to Values Conflict and Solidarity Lech Lcha

“There is nothing cozy, huggy and smiley about peace...” Terrorism survivor- turned peace maker, Gill Hicks told me with steel and restrained fury in her voice [1]. Gill is a double amputee who lost both legs in the London bombing and has made heroic efforts to build peace. It is necessary to face the hard realities of living with difference. 

This week, at a mountain-side Catholic school retreat, 150 teenagers and the Together For Humanity team explored some of the uncomfortable aspects of living with diversity. Participants, in groups of 8, were challenged to lower a thin long stick that rested on their outstretched fingers. Many failed to complete the task that required them to be completely in sync with their peers. When reflecting on their failure, students suggested that it was the differences in height or ways of thinking that was the reason they couldn’t complete the task. One student suggested a harsh solution: to simply remove those who were out of step with the rest of the team. It would be tempting to dismiss that option, but I would prefer to explore it instead.

I told the students that only an hour earlier I was reading the Torah. Abraham acted according to the students’ suggestion when he chose separation in response to conflict [2]. The shepherds employed by Abraham and his nephew got into a values based argument about grazing their sheep on others’ properties. Lot’s (Lut) people, presumably taking their cue from their boss [3], valued maximising wealth over ethical concerns but Abraham’s employees prioritised avoiding theft [4].  Abraham could have managed the conflict and reduced its intensity, but he wanted to avoid even the low level of tension that would inevitably remain [5]. For this reason Abraham parted ways from Lot. This separation from Lot was very upsetting to Abraham [6]. Lot was Abraham’s nephew, and when Lot was orphaned he became like a step son to Abraham [7]. 

Despite the fact that, sometimes, apparent values conflict is a function of prejudice, this is not always the case. In some cases the conflict is actually caused by an accurate understanding of the other! Our values are formed in our own cultural context and function as a set of norms that enable members of the group to get along [8]. Rapid migration and social change coupled with conservative pushback against change leads to people being confronted with strongly held divergent values and norms. For Abraham, it was only when he was free from the spiritually stifling presence of Lot that his spiritual capacity was restored and he was able to receive prophecy [9].

During our program at the retreat, my Muslim colleague, Mrs Calisha Bennet, talked with the students about situations where she as a Muslim woman is meets men and is expected to shake his hand. While some orthodox Jews and Muslims choose to shake hands despite traditions in both faiths to the contrary, for Calisha this is a matter of being authentic and true to her principles.  She explained that she chooses not to compromise her principles, instead opting for sensitively putting her hand on her heart in greeting, feeling empathy for the man with his rejected extended hand and sharing the awkwardness experienced by the aborted handshake.

Michaela Launerts, a teacher at the retreat told us that she shifted from her previous support for constraints on free speech to avoid causing offense to now prioritising robust dialogue about our differences. Michaela pointed out how we live in an age of ‘outrage culture’ where every deviation from one’s own norms is met with howls of indignation, and attempts to shut down opposing views. Instead, Michaela suggested that we should sit with the discomfort for a while and try to understand our opponents perspectives. She insists that most of the things that are important in life involve conflict and robust discussion. Any kind of growth requires one to be challenged, theologically, politically and philosophically.  

In spite of the need to face values conflict, it is vital that there is solidarity between communities. Peace depends on goodwill being shown toward those who believe differently and have divergent values. Returning to the story of Abraham, we see that despite Lot’s rejection of Abraham’s norms and his way [10] when Lot needs help and is taken captive in a war Abraham took up arms to rescue him [11].

As neighbours we must care about each other’s pain and do our part to alleviate suffering, regardless of our disagreements. This sometimes feels wonderful, but this warm feeling is an occasional bonus in this work. We must also show up for the awkward moments. Denial of disagreement is a fragile basis for coexistence. Forced unions can be oppressive and draining. This can be seen in toxic marriages, workplaces and political parties. In those cases emulating Abraham’s offer to Lot – if you go right, I will go left, if you left I will go right – would be far more productive and healthy, provided that communities are always there for each other despite our differences.

Notes

1 https://youtu.be/_MtmLFtb5WM

2 Genesis 13:5-14

3 Genesis 13:10-13, Lot’s observation regarding the fertile nature of the Sodom area appear more important to him than the fact that the Sodomites were very sinful.  

4 Rashi on Genesis 13:7

5 Toras Hachida, Genesis, Lech Lcha, 32, p. 75, 

6 Toras Hachida, Genesis, Lech Lcha, 36, p. 77, see also Ohr Hachayim to Genesis 12:1

7 Genesis 11:27-28, 12:4

8 Greene, J. (2014) Moral Tribes, Emotion, Reason And The Gap Between Us And Them, Atlantic Books, London

9 Rashi to 13:14

10 Rashi to Genesis 13:11

11 Genesis 14:12-16

Painful Thoughts of a Boy-Man - Noah 2019

Image by Ilona Ilyés  https://pixabay.com/users/ilyessuti-3558510/

I watched a video of a most compelling and haunting piece of music by Amir Dadon and Shuli Rand that expresses the pain of being bombarded by the words - in our thoughts -that keep coming back at us. “Enough!” they cry. For me, it is the waves of rumination and anxiety that often shame me and drain my energy for living. One theme is the question: Am I “man” enough or a little boy? 

They say: “Just because I am paranoid, doesn’t mean they are not after me (1) .” My fear is partly driven by the daunting nature of my work on interfaith/diversity education and the real limitations of my abilities. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. However, while on one level I know that I am good enough and capable of contributing, my brain is wired to conflate irrational insecurities and self-doubt with real challenges. 

This week’s Torah reading tells the story of Noah, who, according to one tradition, vainly tried to influence his financially (2) and sexually exploitative (3) , wicked generation to mend their ways, and to warn them that their behaviour would lead to their destruction (4) . His generation ridiculed him (5) and rejected his message (6) , and were ultimately wiped out in a terrible flood. 

After the catastrophic flood, Noah emerged from the ark drank himself into oblivion (7) and disgraced himself. This story correctly shows how drugs like alcohol can be destructive. It is also an intriguing example of  numbing pain through wine, drugs or the sugar hits we get from being on our mobile phones. This is not simple. Abuse survivor and self-confessed drug addict, Tara Schultz, argues that “it is adversity, [including her undertreated mental health situation] not drug addiction”, that is at the heart of the matter for people like her (8).

What led the great Noah to drink? Perhaps he struggled with survivor guilt (9) or the shame of his failure to prevent the horror of the destruction of the world as he knew it. Or, perhaps Noah was caught up in the painful boy/man conundrum. One tradition suggests that Noah was like a little boy, whose dad needed to hold his hand, as the Torah states: God “walked Noah (10) ” (Not a typo, this is the most accurate way to convey the feel of the Hebrew text). It is  not helpful to infer from this that seeking support is a fault. There is no shame in needing support. In fact Noah is praised, in another interpretation of the same verse, for his humility (11) .  

Perhaps the Midrashic comparison of Noah to a boy suggests that Noah himself felt (unnecessarily) inadequate, and like ‘a little boy’ for being so dependent on God’s constant support (12) . If this is the case, it might explain the fact that Noah is silent and appears quite passive in the text that introduces the flood (13) . Noah is said to have been afraid of engaging with the sinners of his time in case he might be influenced by the sinners rather than deterring them from evil (14). We see that harsh self-criticism and an excessively low self-concept can severely limit our capacity to achieve our potential and contribute (15).

According to the mystics, our relentless waves of worry -represented by the flood - requires an escape into prayer, represented by Noah’s ark. If we access spiritual support, we can be safe from the destructive deluge of these thoughts. Furthermore, the worries, themselves, now seen in perspective, can motivate us to greater achievement - symbolised by the fact that the ark was lifted higher by the waves (16).

  

I know and embrace the fact that I am child-like in some ways. I  worry sometimes and need reassurance -  to be “held” emotionally by a supportive parent, mentor, colleague or friend. This is nothing to be ashamed of. I am also an adult, a man, who can respectfully, assertively, confidently, humbly and gently make a contribution to the cause I have dedicated my life to. As the Marist Brothers say, I can do this with a “strong mind and gentle heart”. 

---

^[1] Joseph Heller, in Catch-22

^[2] Genesis 6:11

^[3] Genesis 6:2

^[4] Prikey Drabbi Eliezer 25, cited in Torah Shlaima Noach, 150, p.398

^[5] Midrash

^[6] Midrash Tanchua, cited in Torah Shlaima Noach, 168, p.401

^[7] Genesis 9:20-21

^[8] https://www.abc.net.au/news/2019-10-27/australia-talks-tara-schultz-drugs-abuse-welfare-quarantine/11639602

^[9] Sacks, J. (2009) Covenant and Conversation, Genesis p.46

^[10] Bereshis Rabba 30:9-10, based on Genesis 6:9

^[11] Midrash Hagadol, in Torah Shlaima 140, p. 395

^[12] The approach to Midrash has been discussed in Nehama Leibovitz’s works

^[13] Sacks, J. (2009) Covenant and Conversation, Genesis p. 45

^[14] Etz Yosef on  Bereshis Rabba 30:9-10

^[15] The Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, R. YY. Schneerson, in principles of education and guidance, 10.

^[16] Torah Ohr, Noah

Self reflection about writing about "the Muslim boy" and the Jewish boy who was forced to kiss his feet

THE ORDEAL OF TWO school students in Victoria has rightly stirred up feelings of outrage and solidarity with the students and their families.

Among other things, we need a robust educational response that goes beyond telling children that “multiculturalism is good”. Rather, they need to be given the skills to reflect critically on their own assumptions and culture. I will illustrate this by reflecting on my experience in writing this article.

Last Tuesday I wrote an article that focused on the newspaper image of a Jewish schoolboy prostrating himself before a Muslim student and kissing his feet. I called the Australian National Imam’s Council to suggest it might want to issue a statement regarding Muslims and anti-Semitism.

My contacts questioned the appropriateness of focusing on the faith background of one boy and the aim of calming tensions rather than increase them.

The following day was Yom Kippur and as I engaged in introspection, I had the opportunity to ponder the way I had chosen to interpret this image.  My mind wandered to a shameful event that happened when I was the same age as the boy whose feet were kissed.

I was 11 years old, with low self-confidence, at an American summer camp. One day I was offered an opportunity to ingratiate myself with the cool kids. I was asked to lead a boy I will call “Abe”, a child at the very bottom of the social feeding chain, to a given spot where another boy, “Moishe”, would be hiding and he would jump out to give Abe a fright.

I agreed and started a conversation with Abe, who trustingly walked with me into the ambush. Moishe came screaming out of the bushes and jumped on Abe, scratching his face.

As I stood in shul, I wondered what if Abe had been an Arab, and a newspaper had a photo of me leading him into this ambush. Would it have been appropriate for them to represent me as a Jewish boy? I think not, unless my motivation was based on me being Jewish, which it was not.

My case is different to the current situation. In this case, the Muslim identity of the boy whose feet was kissed is relevant. I have been told that the ringleader of the group of anti-Semitic bullies and most of the group are not Muslim. The ringleader came up with the idea of forcing the Jewish boy to kiss the shoe of the Muslim boy (who was also part of the group) because he thought this would humiliate the Jewish student.

In addition, the Muslim parents of the offending boy were horrified by his behaviour and they joined the Jewish boy’s mother and the two boys and explained “what it meant to them as parents, as far as building bridges between Jews and Muslims in society and not creating division like that photo does”.

So, I am not objecting to the Muslim identity being mentioned, but rather, reflecting critically on my choice to make his religion the focus of my article and way of thinking about this child.

My willingness to review my initial interpretation of an image or event is an illustration of one part of what is needed to defeat bigotry. We need to honestly and courageously confront the difficulties that can arise when diverse human beings interact, rather than feed kids platitudes about diversity being a source of more interesting foods.

Children and their teachers must recognise that it requires ongoing critical awareness for all of us to enjoy social cohesion, safety and prosperity in diverse settings, as my colleagues Donna Jacobs Sife and Michelle Brenner teach.

I agree with Naomi Levin’s op-ed in The Age that “government and non-government schools need to be actively implementing and promoting [anti-racism and anti-bullying] programs as a core activity”. For this to happen, teachers must be held accountable for engaging with this meaningfully.

Once teachers more robustly embrace teaching for intercultural understanding, they will engage in a holistic approach. This will include, but not be limited to, invoking cross-cultural empathy and utilising programs that involve people sharing their stories.

Such programs are offered by the Jewish, Christian, Muslim Association in Victoria, the Together For Humanity Foundation in NSW, the Jewish museums and B’nai B’rith’s Courage to Care. We all need to get more actively involved in interfaith dialogue and solidarity.

On Thursday morning, the National Imam’s Council’s spokesman, Bilal Rauf, sent me the following statement:

“Any conduct which vilifies, incites or commits hatred or violence, or harasses, another person based on their religious identity (or indeed for any other reason) is abhorrent and needs to be rejected in the strongest terms. The tragic shooting overnight outside a synagogue in Germany highlights the increasing risks and effects of such hatred and violence.

“The attack was filmed and had similarities with the far-right attack on two New Zealand mosques earlier this year. The risks of such hatred and violence are something faced by both, the Jewish and Muslim communities. I express my support for the Australian Jewish community and sincerely hope that both communities can work together to address a shared and real threat to their safety, even in our wonderful and mostly peaceful country.”

This article first appeared in plus61J 

Sweetness and Judgement

Complainers!

The Rabbi's sermon to two twelve year old girls, celebrating their coming of age bat mitzvah celebrations, highlighted the virtue of positivity, but I heard something else. I have often judged myself for not being positive enough. The Rabbi mentioned the fact that people who are deemed to be “complainers” are often avoided by their peers. This reality is not just a personal preference but is linked to a societal judgement that complaining is bad. This pushed my buttons; I agree that in some contexts negative thoughts are unwarranted or unhelpful, but I also think that the common overemphasis on positivity is harmful. I want to reflect here on the value of having a balanced approach instead.

I offer my solidarity to “negative people” with first world problems. We might feel frustrated with a work colleague, or with workplace demands that feel overwhelming. These feelings are ok. No! It is not always right to tell people they just need to be positive.

Yes, there are people who manage to be hopeful and upbeat, despite terrible suffering, physical or emotional. These efforts are rightly celebrated and admired. There are contexts where one can and should push oneself to present a pleasant expression on one’s face, in order to be able to contribute in a workplace or in our families. Some of our sadness comes from a feeling of entitlement, and sometimes it helps to count our blessings, and reject unrealistic expectations of what our circumstances “should be”. However, sometimes, some people can’t be positive.  Often, what is called for is a compassionate approach, in response to negative emotions, rather than adding to their suffering with judgement.

This balancing act is tricky. In Judaism we have such great emphasis on gratitude (1), and among Chasidic Jews also on joy (2), that it would seem that we are supposed to always be filled with joy and sweetness. This emphasis on sweetness is also highlighted in the traditional Rosh Hashana greeting, in which Jews wish each other a good and sweet new year.

All of this positivity is challenging for me, whenever I am feeling anxious or self doubt. Feeling a high degree of self confidence seems to be the highest obligation our age. However, I learned something remarkable the other day. It is written that the last words of the great master of Hasidism, the Baal Shem Tov, before he died, was to call for a suspicious attitude toward one self. He told his disciples, that it is only through feeling concerned that one might have sold out to the evil side, that one can feel confident that evil will have no dominion over him or her (3). Of course, excessive self- doubt is destructive, so we need a mix of self-doubt and confidence. 

I am particularly concerned about messages to members of minority groups, as well as to women, about expectations to avoid expressing anger or disappointment. The pressure on the former, not to be the angry black man, or the angry Muslim, prevents open and honest listening to legitimate grievances. The demand made of women to be “sugar and spice and everything nice” all the time, is demeaning, unjust and similarly destructive. 

Regardless of one’s political opinions, there are valid reasons to be angry and sad, about a lot of what happens between Palestinian and Jewish people, in the holy land of Israel. On one visit to Rachel’s tomb in Bethlehem some years ago, I was confronted by something that made me feel terrible, to the point that it was visible on my face. Someone asked me if I was ok. I said that I was not, but I would be worried if I was.

As I join my fellow Jews in two days of prayer, during the Jewish New Year and days of divine judgement, that begin on Monday, I will certainly be praying for all the people residing in the holy land, for all types of blessings and relief from the problems they face. I will pray for all who suffer, regardless of their ethnicity, for them to be relieved of many of their troubles, to find a sympathetic ear, and a compassionate, rather than a judgemental response, to their complaints, as well as finding it within themselves, and us within ourselves, to develop an attitude of gratitude, to count our blessings and adopt a more accepting attitude to some difficulties beyond our control. That would be pretty sweet. May we all be inscribed for a good and sweet new year!   

Notes:

1)       Deuteronomy 26:1-11 is one example of this.

2)       Deuteronomy 28:47 states that the Jews would be punished because they did not serve God in a time  of joy and plenty, but a mystical approach to this, taught by the Arizal, is to read this as the problem being a failure to serve God joyously. 

3)       Deuteronomy 28:68 states that G-d will bring you back to Egypt in ships... and you will [seek to ] sell yourselves as slaves to your enemies, but no one will buy. The Baal Shem Tov’s interpretation of the verse is that you regard yourself as having sold yourself to the spiritual enemy, by acting out of impure motives, then you are assured that in fact no evil force will “buy you” eg. Have control over you. 

Some Equivalence between Muslim and Jewish ruled societies? Torah prohibition of Jewish presence in Egypt

I was delighted to find a passage, in a Jewish religious text, that shows appreciation for Muslims and Islam. A respected commentator on the Torah suggests, that in one matter of Jewish law, a society ruled by a Muslim king would have equal status to one ruled by a Jewish king.

This teaching was a wonderful find for me, because I live between two worlds. One is the exclusivist Orthodox Jewish one; the other is one that embraces, and even celebrates, a wide range of beliefs and cultural ways. So when these two meet, it gives me great pleasure.

I had better preempt two kinds of fierce critiques, based on inferences that either Jewish and Islamic faiths are equally true or an endorsement of every aspect of Islam. This text should not be read as either relinquishing exclusive Truth claims for the Jewish faith or wholesale endorsement of Islam, neither of which it is addressing at all; it has a particular context.

However, the teaching does reflect a recognition of the fact that some of the virtues Jews strive for due to the influences of Judaism are also practiced by Muslims due to influences of Islam. Of course this is also the case with people with other sources of guidance, both religious and otherwise. 

With the disclaimers out of the way, let me get into this teaching. There is a contradiction between the fact that Jewish communities and some of our greatest scholars, most notably Maimonides, lived in Egypt, yet the Torah forbids Jews to live there (1).

The context of the prohibition is a series of laws to prevent kings from becoming corrupt, with the hope that the king’s “heart should not be haughty over his brothers” (2). These laws limit the amount of wealth and horses a king can accumulate. It then adds the following statement: "so that he [the king] will not bring the people back to Egypt in order to acquire many horses.(3)".

I was intrigued to read one authority declare that this commandment only applied for a limited time so that the Jews would not learn immoral behavior from the Egyptians, but did not apply for future generations (4). The line of argument that the prohibition has expired is extended in the writings of an early nineteenth century scholar, Rabbi Meir Benyamin Menachem Danon, who was the chief rabbi of Sarajevo in Muslim, Bosnia (5).

Danon argues that the conquest of Egypt by Muslims is a game changer. “When the king of the Ishmaelites [a reference to Arabs as well as Muslims] conquered the land of Egypt and all its inhabitants he turned them toward their religion [of Islam] and manners/cultural norms. With the passage of time, the Egyptians ...became like the Ishamaelites ...” (6). I wonder how Coptic Chrisitans would feel about this teaching, but let’s take Danon in his Bosnian Context. 

Danon’s basis for his argument is in the writing of Maimonides who states that: "it seems to me, that if the land of Egypt were to be conquered by a Jewish king under the guidance of a Beth Din, [a Torah court], the prohibition would no longer apply” (7). Danon essentially argued that it doesn't matter what kind of monotheistic society Egypt would be. He wrote that Maimonides’ reference to a Beth Din is merely descriptive of the typical scenario of a Jewish king going to war, rather than a condition for the law.

One might dismiss Danon’s argument based on the fact that Maimonides ruled that living in Egypt was still forbidden and only tentatively suggests it might be permitted under a Jewish king. If Danon’s view is in accordance with Maimonides’ own view why does Maimonides not state this explicitly? In fact, Maimonides use of the expression “it seems to me” is questioned by two scholars (8) who wonder why he does not simply present his view as law.

I suggest that this tentativeness might offer a hint to Maimonides’ real opinion on the matter. The fact that he was living in Egypt meant that he was personally implicated by this particular law, if he was in breach of it. In fact, it has been claimed that Maimonides would sign his letters, "Moshe ben Maimon, who transgresses three prohibitions each day" on account of his residence in Egypt (9). He could hardly feel comfortable justifying himself, in a novel way. We are taught that “one should not be defensive, in accordance with the proverb that one cannot recognise one’s own faults”, instead one should seek to judge oneself truthfully (10). This ethical principle might explain both Maimonides reticence in justifying living in Egypt under Muslim rule and the tentative language he uses to introduce the monotheistic conquest exception.

Danon’s teaching illustrates a manner of respect between believers that is not merely relativist. Rather, it acknowledges the reality that in some significant ways the religious influences of other faiths on their adherents can lead them to similar outcomes to those achieved through the influence of one’s own faith. There is no need to agree about the big questions of how to get to heaven or please the creator, but for the sake of truth let us recognise the truth about our neighbours, whose beliefs differ from our own, including the non-religious. Surely, this is in keeping with the idea that the Torah’s ways are ways of peace (11).

  

Notes 

1)            Deuteronomy 17:16

2)            Deuteronomy 17:20

3)            Deuteronomy 17:16

4)            Bachaya, on Deuteronomy 17:16, Ritva to Yoma 38 also takes the law to be non-applicable to his time but his reason is that the prohibition only applies to returning to Egypt from Israel, but moving there from other diaspora lands is permitted. This view seemed to contradict both the Jerusalem Talmud, Sukkah 5:1 and Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah 51b which state that the massive Jewish community of Alexandria was destroyed because they disobeyed the commandment against settling in Egypt. Maimonides, Laws of Kings 5:8 rules that living permanently in Egypt is forbidden.

5)            http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/4891-danon-meir-benjamin-menahem chief rabbi of Sarajevo in Bosnia, author of "Be'er ba-Sadeh".

6)            Be'er ba-Sadeh, on this verse,  published in Jerusalem in 1846

7)            Maimonides, Laws of Kings 5:8

8)            Torah Temima, Levin, A. in Hadrash VeHaiyun, Shoftim, Maamar 125, p. 150 ff.

9)            Rabbi Ishtori Haparchi (1280-1366), in his encyclopedic work Kaftor v'Ferah, (ch. 5), cited in  Loewenberg, M. May a Jew live in Egypt?,   http://www.jewishmag.com/173mag/jew_live_in_egypt/jew_live_in_egypt.htm

10)          Chida in Nachal K’domim, in Torat Hachida, shoftim, p. 129

11)          Proverbs 3:17

Fear and Calm - Ekev Reay

Image used under Creative Commons License Attribution 2.0, Image by
 Ralf Steinberger

On the 26th of July I posted about having felt afraid at an important meeting, and talking too much because I felt anxious (1). This week I met with some of the same people, about the same issues, but I was quite calm and tuned in to the people I was meeting with. In this blog I explore my experience with fear and some of Torah’s wisdom on the topic.

After the meeting, I reflected on the difference between the two meetings I had. In the first I was quite high-energy and my thinking and talking was fast paced, and, on reflection, I was driven by an unprocessed fear of failure, to get the results I was hoping for. In the second meeting, however, my pace and energy level were moderate, or even subdued, and I was completely present to what the people I was meeting with thought, wanted and needed.

One factor that was different was mindfulness. At the second meeting I was aware of my various thoughts and motivations. Another factor was awareness of some Torah wisdom. The Torah calls us to do both what is proper, from the perspective of people, and what is good, from the perspective of God (2). The wording here is precise: while humans are capable of determining proper conduct, by ensuring we follow upright processes (3 ) and contribute the initial inputs to those in an ethical way; only the prescient God knows what outcomes will truly turn out to be truly “good” (4). This lowers the stakes. I don’t need to try to force an outcome. The outcomes are truly out of my hands and, therefore, are not my responsibility.

Another teaching that helped me relax, was the idea that I learned yesterday that if one can put aside selfish motives, then one can be confident of being guided to the right choices (5). So I need to focus on being altruistic in my motives and intentions, and leave the outcomes to God I combine these teachings with the secular idea of working “with” people; rather than trying to bend people to one’s will, which is incompatible with productive collaboration. Thus, I can choose to trust people, who have their own choices to make and their own wisdom in making those decisions; and I need not feel responsible to push for a particular outcome or conclusion.

Another strategy, is to initially embrace the fear, rather than run from it. Once I have accepted that I feel the feelings that I do, I can then open myself to support from others. Moses tells the Israelites in the desert that, ‘if they feel daunted by the challenge of conquering people, who [they estimate to be] more numerous and stronger than themselves, they should not be afraid because God will help them’ (6). Commentary makes the point that it is precisely when you acknowledge your fear and vulnerability, that you can trust God will help you and in this way you're able to put aside your fear. However, if one suffers from hubris and is overconfident, then he should not expect divine assistance, and had better be afraid (7).

Notes

1)     http://torahforsociallyawarehasid.blogspot.com/2019/07/violence-and-resilience-of-aggrieved.html

2)     Deuteronomy 12:28, as interpreted by Rabbi Akiva in Sifre ad loc.

3)     Gur Aryeh on Deuteronomy 12:28.

4)     Torah Temima on Deuteronomy 12:28, note 113.

5)     I could not recall the source at the time of writing.

6)     Deuteronomy, 7:17-18.

7)     Chida, in Torat Hachida, Ekev, 25 & 26, pages 76-77.

A Palestinian In The Synagogue - God Cares About “Goyim”

Last night Munzer Emad, a Palestinian man told his story at a Sydney synagogue. I felt grateful to be present, because I this was the first time I had seen this dialogue in a Synagogue in my community in St Ives. Munzer spoke from the heart, and his Jewish audience engaged with his story, despite the fact that “it was very difficult to listen to”, as more than one audience member reflected.  

Rabbi Gad Krebs, who initiated this encounter for his community, reflected on his own journey that led to last night. Around the year 2000, the Rabbi, then a much younger man, was, by his own admission, very right wing politically. The Rabbi told us that he was greeted by a stranger with a pronounced Arabic accent, in Hebrew, while watching the Olympics on a big outdoor screen in Sydney’s Darling Harbour. The two men engaged in conversation. The Arabic speaking man initially said he was Egyptian, but later told the Rabbi that if he had told him where he was really from that would have been the end of the conversation. He then shared that he was actually a Palestinian from Gaza, and that previously whenever he had disclosed this fact in a conversation with a Jewish person that ended the conversation. Rabbi Krebs did not run away and instead continued the conversation. The two men lost contact, until a recent chance meeting when Rabbi Krebs and Munzer met, and after a while Gad realised that Munzer was the stranger he met in 2002.

Munzer is a softly spoken man. He argued passionately for connections between people. He argued that, although humans were not meant to fly or swim, we have beaten nature to do both of these things. On the other hand, despite being wired for connectedness, we override our nature in order to be fragmented. He reflected on the way that groups in conflict dismiss each others experiences and deal with the other as an enemy. He shared a surprising anecdote about the time he was around ten years old and Israeli soldiers marched through the street where he was playing; he felt confused and angered by their forceful presence. He threw a soccer ball at an Israeli soldier. The soldier smiled shyly and threw the ball back. A glimpse of the soldiers humanity that did not fit the narrative of this young boy. But a little connection happened anyway.

As a teenager, Munzer was mistaken for one of his brothers who was very active in throwing stones, so Munzer was taken into custody. When Munzer was interrogated, he was blindfolded. He asked his interrogator to remove the blindfold and make eye contact. On Sunday night he got much more than that, his generous spirit was mirrored back to him by his receptive audience.

I don’t think religious texts are key to war or peace, there are other significant drivers that I think are more central, but they are not irrelevant either. The day before Munzer’s talk, I was confronted with a text that seemed to suggest that God does not care about non-Jewish people. Thankfully, there is usually more than one way to read a Torah text.

Moses told the Israelites that “when you look up to the sky, and behold the sun and the moon and the stars ...you must not be lured into ...serving them. These the LORD your God has set aside for all [the other?] nations everywhere under heaven” , but as for you [the Israelites], the LORD took and brought you out of Egypt... to be His very own people (1).

This has been taken to mean that God has set the nations up to worship the stars, and it is only the Jews whose worship is important to God (2). This seems wrong, surely God would not lead people astray (3). As an Assyrian Bishop told me the other night, in his church they don’t pray that God should not lead them into temptation, because surely God would not do that. Instead they pray not to be tested by “trials”.

A story about this text is an early example of the influences of interfaith contact on interpretations of text. A group of Jewish sages were tasked by King Ptolemy to translate the Torah. When they got to this verse they modified the translation to say that God set aside the sun, the moon and the stars to provide light to the nations (4).

Further commentary suggests that the planets are so valuable for all the nations, that they can never be destroyed, and this presents the risk of them being worshipped (5).  Alternatively, the nations of the world might believe in a fragmented concept of the universe, so they see the sun and moon as being more important than earth. However, the Jewish people are invited to think of earth as central, as it is the place where humans worship God (6) and make ethical decisions. Such decisions include to deeply honor and cherish all human beings regardless of ethnic or religious identity. This was the invitation Munzer extended to his audience. It was glorious being part of a room that transcended the divide between the Jewish and Palestinian peoples, and filled with such warmth and goodwill.

1)    Deuteronomy 4:19.

2)    Talmud, Avoda Zara 55a.

3)    See Torah Temima to Deuteronomy 4:19, notes 41 and 42.

4)    Talmud 9b.  

5)    Chasam Sofer on Vaetchanan.

6)    ibid.