Dialogue Challenges and Abraham

On Sunday afternoon, I was standing in my local library, looking Jewish, together with a Jewish child. Two teenage boys walked near us and mumbled a few words they thought would annoy us because we are Jewish and then walked off laughing. The child said to me, I want to go home now. I also felt like going home then. Being an object of ridicule and an object with which to show off to your friend how daring you are, so you can feel a sense of belonging, is unpleasant. The library is one place that makes me feel relaxed, except on that Sunday, when it didn’t.

One might argue that this is a first world problem and I don’t have permission to be annoyed because other people are suffering more. I reject that. All harm must be prevented and dealt with.

On Monday, a Muslim man in New York was mocked because of his concern about his aunt who “stopped taking the subway after September 11 because she did not feel safe in her hijab.”   The mocker suggested that complaining implied that "the real victim of 9/11 was his auntie, who got some (allegedly) bad looks". This ridicule is not ok. It is not right to divide people into “the real victims” and “the fake victims”. We should all feel comfortable on public transport or in a public library, and anywhere else and expect to be treated as people and individuals, not objects or stereotypes. This includes Muslim women who have copped this abuse for years!

Also on Monday, two people from the NSW Jewish Board of Deputies and two of us from Together For Humanity planned a youth forum for high school students in the Eastern Suburbs of Sydney. The aim was to ensure that everyone can thrive at school, feel safe, supported, valued and known at school, free from demeaning comments and racism. To get this result, the students need to think deeply about effective dialogue. The students would be offered some tips about how to do this.

One tip we will offer is to use the word “and” rather than “but” when considering conflicting perspectives (1).  This can help us see how multiple perspectives can be true, rather than one cancelling another, while the word “but” usually implies that only the words after it (“but”) are valid. 

Another tip relates to “violence” and “silence”. These are two ways in which people respond to the discomfort of some conversations, according to the authors of Crucial Conversations (2). “Violence” in this context includes trying to force an opinion on others, or verbal personal attacks.

“Silence” can include masking one’s true feelings and just going along because one might feel afraid to say what one really thinks. One problem with silence is that valid concerns are not raised and important information is lost, whereas dialogue is defined by the authors as the free flow of meaning between people which enables new ways of thinking about challenges.   

Abraham is known for his commitment to fairness and justice (3) and being a kind person who was probably not comfortable saying no to his beloved first wife, Sarah. When Sarah felt disrespected by Hagar - her former maid, who had become her rival wife of Abraham - Sarah demanded that Hagar be dealt with harshly (4). Abraham’s response to Sarah was that she could do whatever she pleased to Hagar. Sarah’s treatment of Hagar resulted in her running away.

My guess is that Abraham was not ok with this course of action, but it was easier to agree. Ramban, one of the most respected commentators on the Torah, wrote that the harsh treatment of Hagar was a sin on the part of Sarah, as well as Abraham for condoning it (5).  

Going back to the youth forum, to encourage students not to mask their real views, we will invite them to respond the following prompt. “If I was completely honest, I would say that I am not ok with…” (6). This prompt led to deeply honest conversations in a Brisbane school a while ago, and we are hoping for similar results in Sydney. 

Another tip is to reflect on what the motives are for a conversation. We are encouraged to ask ourselves “What do you really want out of this conversation” (7)? Is the purpose mutual understanding? Pushing a point of view? Venting?   

A woman and her son were approached the other night by a stranger. “Can I ask you a question?” the stranger asked. Thus began an insincere pretence at dialogue, that was really about lecturing someone about the “questioner’s” opinion. I find such behaviour so offensive, and consider it is a crime against the sacred act of dialogue.

Dialogue, when it goes well, is a beautiful means of connection and respect between people with diverse perspectives or worldviews. For Muslims, knowing people from other “tribes and nations” is part of the purpose of creation (8). It has been a profound privilege for me to be known by Muslims and people of other traditions as well as to know in return. Yet, sometimes people with the best of intentions have ulterior motives and the dialogue fails.

It has taken me a while, but finally, I learned that there are conversations “that I really feel I need to have”, that, in fact, don’t need to happen. Unlike conversations with people with whom dialogue is likely to be beneficial and lead to mutual understanding, there are people with whom conversation is unlikely to be beneficial. The divergent interests are far more compelling for them than the common good. In such cases it is better to go separate ways.

Abraham understood this was the case with his nephew, Lot. Rather than engage in dialogue with the younger man, Abraham said to him “Let there be no strife between you and me, between my herders and yours… Let us separate: if you go north, I will go south; and if you go south, I will go north.” (9) Abraham still cared about the younger man and was there for him when he needed help (10), but also created space between them. Sometimes, this is the best course of action.

The session we are planning for the high school students in mid-November will hopefully be the start of a longer engagement and learning journey that will enable the fine young people we meet to create cultures of respect and belonging in their schools.  

1)     Stone, D., Patton, B, Heen, S, (of the Harvard Negotiation project), (2023) Difficult Conversations, Penguin Books

2)     Patterson, K., Grenny, J., Switzler, A., McMillan, R., (2018) in Crucial Conversations, McGraw Hill.

3)     Genesis 16:1-6

4)      Genesis 18:19 & 25

5)      Ramban, on Genesis 16:6

6)      CHAT, Cultural Hearing and Telling program, Scripture Union

7)      Patterson et al.

8)      Sura Al Hujurat - The Rooms (49:13) O humanity! Indeed, We created you from a male and a female, and made you into peoples and tribes so that you may ˹get to˺ know one another. Surely the most noble of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous among you. Allah is truly All-Knowing, All-Aware.  — Dr. Mustafa Khattab, The Clear Quran https://quran.com/49/13

9)      Genesis, 13:8-9

10)   Rashi on Genesis, 13:8-9

Responsible and Caring Enough? Noah

When preparing to teach the teachers of tomorrow at Sydney University about global citizenship, I reflected on the question of responsibility. Many people, including me, and even children, are burdened with feeling responsible for problems that we cannot fix. These feelings are emotionally draining and perhaps destructive because they distract us from doing what we can for people we love or live near us in our communities and suburbs. On the other hand, there are times when I or others fail to embrace our responsibilities as individuals, members of families, communities and humanity as a whole.

Margaret Meade famously said we should “… never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.” Good point.

I love the idea of changing the world. I have committed my life to it. Then I got tired, very tired.

On the one hand, I am deeply grateful to the small group of thoughtful committed people who work alongside me and guide me as I have tried to change the world and then to support children and teachers. Thank you to all of you in the Together for Humanity team, board members, the volunteers, the casual educators, the donors, Christians, Muslims, Jews and others. We did amazing things together and we will continue to do great things.

On the other hand, despite all the children and adults we educated to reject prejudice and hate and to find common ground, there were other committed, but less thoughtful people who contributed to injustice, hatred, generalisations, prejudice and dehumanisation.

I learned, slowly and over many years to feel a little less responsible. It is not my task to complete the work, but neither am I free to desist from it (1).

I think of change-work as being a crew member of a sailing ship. We are not the captains of the ship ̶ that is God (or whatever forces atheists see playing God – multinationals, or whoever).  We are not responsible for the winds ̶ that again is God. Our task is to be part of the team that turns the sails to catch the winds already blowing. We do this with great humility – as small players in God’s vast world but paradoxically with a touch of magic as God’s partners in creation (2).  

Reading the Torah with this mindset, I am challenged when I read the story of Noah, especially as interpreted by some Jewish scholars.

Noah was burdened by his parents’ expectations that he would change the world, comfort humanity and repair the earth that had been cursed (3). He was favoured by God and declared to be a saint (4).

The world had become evil and full of crime and cruelty. The powerful– the sons of the gods ̶  took any woman they wanted, regardless of her consent or marital status (5). They farmed animals and people to be sold as sex slaves, with ownership certificates (6).  

When God told Noah, the golden boy, that the inhabitants of the earth would be wiped out in a flood, he said absolutely nothing, not one word of prayer to save his generation (7). Reactively, perhaps feebly, Noah talked to people who approached him while he was building his ark about the coming flood and suggested that they change their ways (8).  However, he failed to change his society. Instead, the people ridiculed and cursed him (9). For this he is deemed to have failed to be collectively responsible for humanity (10).  

Noah’s final humiliating episode had him rolling naked and drunk in front of his children, when he finally found his voice to respond to his humiliation with curses for his grandson (11).

Yet, the Torah is clear that Noah was a virtuous man who did what he could in a terribly difficult time (12). His very name, Noah, means respite. He was not an assertive man. Maybe his getting drunk was a response to his feeling of loneliness when everyone – outside his own family – was dead, and even when they were alive, he could not relate to them (13). Or it might have been a reaction to his own sense of failure to live up to his father’s dreams and his sense of responsibility for the catastrophe of humanity.

As I sit with the two ways of reading the story, I choose to embrace both. Perhaps what I can learn from Noah is not to go passive or silent, to continue to care deeply but to care enough. Not to the extent of delusional saviour complexes. Regardless of others’ estimations of our gifts, we can discern which challenges to take responsibility for and which to step back from. We are not responsible for other people’s choices, nor are we responsible for saving the world. Yet, we should care about all human suffering, everywhere, even as we recognise our limited ability to alleviate it.  Then we should go about soberly doing our bit. This is what we should also tell our children.  

 

 Edited by Hazel Baker. Thank you!

1)    Pirkey Avot 2:16

2)    Talmud, Midrash Rabba

3)    Genesis 5:29

4)    Genesis 6:8, 6:9

5)    Genesis 6:2

6)    Midrash Rabba and Eshed Hanechalim commentary

7)    Genesis 6:13- 7:5, Sacks, J. (2009), Covenant and Conversation, Genesis, p.45

8)    Midrash Rabba

9)    Midrash

10) Sacks, p. 63, others

11) Genesis 9:20-27

12) Genesis 7:1

13) Adin Steinsaltz, https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/4942416/jewish/What-Was-Wrong-With-Noah.htm

Dominance vs Acceptance and Lamekh’s Song

After a soul-replenishing walk the other day, I walked out of the bush onto a path where I saw a little dog ahead. From the dog’s perspective, a strange man was approaching and this was a problem. A few loud barks did not persuade the man to back off  ̶  he continued to approach. This required an escalation: first circling the stranger and barking even more menacingly and then a warning bite! The bite through my clothing didn’t pierce the skin, but the dog had asserted itself!  

Unlike that dog, humans have choices. Situations that at first may feel adversarial can be resolved through conversations that uncover misunderstandings or alternative solutions. I have been working on acceptance of how things are, and letting go of expectations about how others “should” be or behave. We have a choice about how we react to anxiety either by seeking to control others, or by letting go (1), with trust in God and respect for others’ right to choose what they wish to do or give.  

In Genesis, we read about Cain, whose name means “acquisition” (2). When his brother Abel’s offering was favoured by God, while his was rejected (3), Cain failed to “acquire” the approval he craved. His “face fell (4) ”. In his status anxiety, Cain failed to follow God’s guidance to improve himself and manage his drives or impulses (5). Instead, in an outburst of violence, he murdered his brother. The anger he felt was so overwhelming that he thought – in error – that he had no choice in the matter (6) .

Worse than crimes of passion are acts of violence and ways of unethical domination that are not impulsive but premeditated (7). When some people see the ways that intimidating others can allow them to take what they want, they either inflict violence or threaten to do so to get their way (8).

Cain’s descendant Lemekh embraced violence. He had contempt for the “respectable people” of his time, descendants of Adam and Eve’s other son Seth, who shunned the Cainites because of their murderous and condemned ancestor (9). Lemekh tried to revise history, creating myths to recast Cain as a hero. “Our father Cain did not wimpishly relinquish his status as the firstborn son of Adam and Eve. When he was insulted by Abel and God, Cain defended his honour (10)”. In this way, Lemekh thought that Cain had been rehabilitated, and the Cainites had restored their past glory.

Lemekh was wrong. Rather than him changing the past, the past was a strong influence on him and his family. Wicked ways that are deeply embedded in people’s hearts, such as Cain’s embrace of murder, anger and dominance, can be perpetuated in families (11), an example of “visiting the sins of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children's children… (12)”. Indeed, Tuval Cain, one of Lemekh’s sons, built on his ancestor’s murderous legacy (13) by being the first to create weapons (14).

Tuval Cain’s siblings were all pioneers, one in developing agri-business (15) and the accumulation of wealth (16), another in the arts, the “father” of all musicians (17), and their sister Naama was a talented singer (18). The siblings complemented Lemekh’s repair of the past by creating a glorious future (19).

After the description of Lemekh’s talented family in the Tanach, there is a plot twist. Lemekh tells his wives that he killed a man and a boy (20) in retaliation (21) for some kind of wound and a bruise. Lemekh’s story about these killings is in the form of a song (22), a war song, as Biblical songs tend to be (23). It is a dramatic warning to his wives that he is far tougher than Cain and if they dare defy his wishes, such defiance will be met with violent vengeance and him killing them. This was his way of dominating his wives as if they were slaves, or property, for him to do with as he pleased (24).

      
An alternative interpretation identifies the slain man and boy as Lemekh’s ancestor Cain and his own son Tuval Cain, killed in a series of accidents, rather than acts of vengeance (25). Lemekh’s song is seen as a bitter “last testament of a Cainite seer. (26)” Instead of the pride and joy in his family’s accomplishments, Lemekh sees the symbolism of his killing his ancestor and son as representing the failure of the Cainite approach. “Alas, I have not rehabilitated my ancestor, I killed him! I murdered the youth! And in doing so, I inflicted the deepest wound on myself! We have destroyed the past and the future and gained no present.” Lemekh recognised that he was morally damaged, “bruised and wounded (27) ” by the legacy of anger and murder that he inherited from Cain and that shaped him and his weapons-manufacturing son, Tuval-Cain (28).  Lemekh declared: “Cain-ism must be repudiated!”

Lemekh’s lament is a call for us to reject dominance in favour of humble acceptance of that which we cannot control.  His song is about the ultimate painful cost of coercion and threats that far exceed any short-term benefits.  Inflicting or threatening “punishments” can destroy family ties and friendships (29), often with great harm to the perpetrator. Instead, let us affirm the dignity and rights of all people, with assertiveness, forgiveness, patience, tolerance, curiosity and compassion.   

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[1]Jeffers, S. (2012), Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway, Revised, Vermilion, London, p. 232-233

[2] Genesis 4:1

[3] Genesis 4:3-5

[4] Genesis 4:5-6

[5] Genesis 4:7

[6] Leiner, J, the son of the Ishbitzer, in Beis Yaakov al Hatora, Bereshit, 70, on Sefaria https://www.sefaria.org/Genesis.4.23?lang=he&with=Beit%20Yaakov%20on%20Torah&lang2=he  

[7] Liebovitz, N, New Studies In Bereshit Genesis, 6, p. 46, I use the term unethical domination to exclude cases where legitimate authority is exercised eg. by the parent of a young child about to cause harm to themselves or others, or a police officer protecting a vulnerable person from someone seeking to harm them.  

[8] Genesis, 6:2, “the sons of the powerful saw the daughters of man, that they were good and they took women from all that they chose”

[9] R Ephrayim, based on a lost midrash, cited in Azulai, C. Y. D. Chidoh, in Torat Hachido, p. 38- 115 

[10] Medan, Y. The Song of Lemekh – The First Song in the Bible, https://etzion.org.il/en/tanakh/torah/sefer-bereishit/parashat-bereishit/bereishit-song-lemekh-%E2%80%93-first-song-bible

[11] Talmud, Berakhot 7a, as interpreted by Medan, Y. following the approach of Ralbag on the Torah, Shemot 20:1:3, and Leiner,

[12] Exodus 34:7

[13] Rashi, on Genesis 4:22

[14] Genesis 4:22

[15] Hirsch, S.R. on Genesis 4:21

[16] Malbim on Genesis 4:21

[17] Genesis 4:21

[18] Me’am Loez

[19] Hirsch, S.R. on Genesis 4:21

[20] Genesis 4:23

[21] Malbim’s commentary to 4:23, C. Y. D. Chidoh, in Torat Hachido, p. 38- 115, Medan, Y.

[22] Hirsch, S.R. on Genesis 4:23

[23] Medan, Y.

[24] Malbim

[25] Midrash Tanchuma

[26] Hirsch

[27] Genesis 4:23

[28] Leiner, Y, 71

[29] Perhaps there is a difference where relationships fail because people cannot bear to be in the presence of someone and continuing to be together will cause distress or emotional harm, and other situations where such differences can likely be tolerated but the effort is not made due to either a sense – perhaps sub-conscious - that the other person deserves to be punished or of righteous indignation.