Interfaith Understanding through highlighting both commonality and difference, and inclusive and confronting texts and interpretations

14.05.2019. Yesterday, a group of visiting students from the Jewish, Emanuel School, sat at the front right hand side of a large room. A group of students from the host school, Granville Boys High, of mixed backgrounds including Muslim, Hindu and other unknown beliefs filed in. They sat down at the back left side of the room, leaving a big gap between them and the visitors. The day unfolded and something magical happened. As one student reflected at the end of the day “this morning we were two distinct groups, by the afternoon there was one big group”.

The desire to be one is strong. But we must take care that in trying to become one, we don’t simply become “color blind”, which means that we minimize difference. If we do, we don’t really embrace others as they are, we just pretend that they are exactly like ourselves⁽¹⁾.

The combination of acknowledging commonality while also recognizing difference was evident tonight at an Iftar dinner I attended. As the sun was setting many of the Muslims gathered to pray. It was also prayer time for me so I rose to pray alongside the Muslim worshipers. Unlike Muslim prayer, Jewish prayer involves minimal bowing. As I stood upright alongside the synchronized rows of men and women bowing in unison, the voice of a very young child called out loudly “why is that man not bowing?” The Muslim Sheikh and I reflected afterwards about how the two faiths worship the one God, but do it in different ways and that this is to be respected and celebrated. 

16.05.2019 I am sitting on a plane, traveling home to Sydney from Melbourne after speaking on a panel at my third Iftar dinner, at Deakin University. Our topic was how people of different backgrounds can get along better and the role that religion plays in this.

I suggested that religious leaders need to take responsibility for how we teach sacred texts. There are two ways we can do this. Either we directly confront “inconvenient texts” and grapple with how they are interpreted or we focus more on texts that have a positive inclusive message. My approach has been mainly the former, while Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’ approach is the latter.

Before I switched my phone to flight mode I downloaded Sacks’ essay on minority rights⁽²⁾. His starting point is the following verse. “If any of your fellow Israelites become poor and are unable to support themselves among you, help them [as well as any⁽³⁾] (non-citizen) resident and an alien, so they can continue to live among you”⁽⁴⁾. Sacks explains that: “There is, in other words, an obligation to support and sustain a resident alien and that not only does he or she have the right to live in the Holy Land, but they have the right to share in its welfare provisions.” The requirement for equal treatment is also recorded as law⁽⁵⁾.

I am thrown by Sacks’ focus on this inclusive verse. I wrote out a list of all the challenging verses in the same reading, but I delete the list. I try to flow with his argument. He cited the example of an affair between the wife of alien soldier in King David’s army and the King.

“King David has fallen in love and had an adulterous relationship with Batsheva, wife of a ger toshav, Uriah the Hittite. She becomes pregnant. Uriah meanwhile has been away from home as a soldier in Israel’s army. David, afraid that Uriah will come home, see that his wife is pregnant, realise that she has committed adultery, and come to discover that the king is the guilty party, has Uriah brought home. His pretext is that he wants to know how the battle is going. He then tells Uriah to go home and sleep with his wife before returning, so that he will later assume that he himself is the father of the child”. ⁽⁶⁾

David’s plan failed. Uriah chose not to go home out of solidarity with the Israelites. Uriah’s words are recorded in the scripture. Uriah said to David, “The Ark and Israel and Judah are staying in tents, and my commander Joab and my lord’s men are camped in the open country. How could I go to my house to eat and drink and make love to my wife? As surely as you live, I will not do such a thing!” 

Sacks makes the point that “the fact that Tanakh [the Bible] can tell such a story in which a resident alien is the moral hero, and David, Israel’s greatest king, the wrongdoer or villain, tells us much about the morality of Judaism.”

On reflection, I think there is a need for voices like Sacks to highlight the positive. There is also a need to confront the texts that can be taken to legitimise bigotry, which I will continue to do. While in Melbourne I held some discussions with the Jewish Christian Muslim Association about doing exactly that. It irritates me to no end when I hear non-Muslims focus on apparently difficult Islamic texts. I think it is more useful for people to grapple with their own texts and be honest about what is in them. However it is also important to highlight inclusive texts. It is not an either/or choice. It is a case of “and”. Challenging and inclusive text are worth exploring, just as it is valuable to focus on both similarities and differences⁽⁷⁾.

Notes

Rev. Ian Smith in conversation on 16.05.2019.

Sacks, J. (2017) http://rabbisacks.org/minority-rights-behar-bechukotai-5777/

Rashi

Leviticus 25:35, there are some conditions to this law. See Sacks.

Maimonides, in Yad Hachazaka Hilkhot Melachim 10:12, cited by Sacks. “One should act towards resident aliens with the same respect and loving kindness as one would to a fellow Jew”

2 Samuel 11:6-11 in Sacks

Pedersen, A., Walker, I., & Wise, M. (2005). Talk Does Not Cook Rice: Beyond anti-racism rhetoric to strategies for social action. Australian Psychologist, 40, 20-30.

Religious Texts divide us? & sky-high and deep conversations with Sheiks - Chayeh Sarah

Sitting on a plane to Perth with an Aboriginal elder on my right, and a Muslim Sheikh on my left, it was only natural that my thoughts turned to coexistence. One of the oft repeated comments about Muslim-Jewish relations (and the relationship between Muslims and others in general), is that although Muslims and Jews got along well in the past, this was only the case when the Muslims had higher status and the Jews were subservient, or “Dimhi”. This argument dismisses the golden age of Spain as being irrelevant to coexistence in the West today.

Good intercultural understanding practice requires finding out what Muslims think about these assertions. Ideally, by talking to an actual Muslim person directly, rather than by performing a Google search. My own community, in St Ives, was recently maligned based on some of my neighbours’ findings on the internet in the recent Eruv controversy (1).

Fortunately, I was sitting next to a learned Sheikh on this flight to Perth. He explained to me that the word “Dimhi” means “under protection”. He told me that: “one statement of the prophet Muhammad (in the Hadith) declared that a person who harms a Dimhi will not smell the fragrance of paradise” and that protection of religion/s was a core purpose of Sharia. The Sheikh acknowledged that he is not surprised by the alternative interpretation of “Dimhi” by people like ISIS, but such groups don't just have a problem in their attitude to non-Muslims but with anyone, including Muslims, who thinks differently to them. They regard everyone unlike them as not being ‘rightly guided’.  

Another useful approach is to explore this notion of acceptance as being conditional on subservience in my own Faith. Abraham's son Ishmael is said to have become a good man later in life. We know this because in the report about Abraham's burial, Ishmael is mentioned after Isaac (2). This sequence is taken as proof that Ishmael, father of the Arabs, honoured Isaac by allowing him to go first (3). Hmm. Something about people in glass houses comes to mind.

My first inclination was to look for alternative interpretations. I found one that highlights the fact that the Torah mentioned the obvious fact that Isaac and Ishmael were Abraham's sons, in this context, in order to hint that they were both equal in their honoring him [Abraham] (4). I was happy to find this interpretation that emphasises equality rather than superiority.

This second interpretation does not cancel out the first. I slept on this matter and my discussion with the Sheikh. It occurred to me, lying in bed after midnight, that perhaps it didn't make sense to impose secular literary political analysis on a religious text. The text is working from the assumption that it is a matter of absolute fact that Isaac was profoundly righteous. Ishmael honoring him is evidence of him humbly disregarding his status as an older brother, which serves as a lesson in humility for us. In fact it is written that Ishmael’s humble gesture earned Ishmael the merit to enjoy a place in heaven (5).

It was something the Sheikh said on the plane the previous day that inspired me to step back and question my critical approach. We were discussing portrayals of the Jews in Islamic stories. I asked if he could tell me the ratio between positive and negative portrayals. He told me that this kind of analysis had not been done. Instead he shared one story with me about a very pious Jew who met an outcast Jew. The outcast noticed that the pious man was enjoying the shade cast by a cloud hovering just above him. The outcast sat down near the pious man but was arrogantly sent away. God then forgave the outcast and canceled the pious Jew’s merit so both were at square one (6). On reflection this Muslim story is primarily a lesson for Muslims about humility rather than a commentary on Jews. It was more useful to understand what the story means to those who are guided by it than to impose an external lens to view it through.

On my return to Sydney, I had a chat with another Sheikh to plan an activity to foster interfaith understanding. Our conversations followed media articles sparked by references to another Muslim story also involving Jews, which were made during a lecture presented by this Sheikh. In this story, a murdered wealthy man was temporarily miraculously brought back to life by Moses  to identify his killer: a greedy nephew. Jewish villagers who were relieved of suspicion by this miracle still failed to believe in Moses despite his performance of this amazing miracle. The punishment meted out to the Jewish villagers 3000 years ago for their lack of belief was that God hardened their hearts (7). None of the context of the 3000 year old story was clear to those who viewed a YouTube video of the lecture. To them the Sheik appeared to be saying that “the Jewish [people- presumably in any time and place] have hard hearts] with no mercy, only envy and hatred”. There is no way to know for sure if even some of the members of the original audience also failed to understand the strictly contextual nature of the remarks. Sacred text is read by imperfect humans with various opinions and possibly, prejudices.

In conclusion. Curiosity and dialogue is crucial. There is value in resisting the temptation to rush to judgement. On the contrary, we are taught to be patient in judgement (8). Some traditional teachings might not appear compatible with modern principles of equality and embracing diversity. Let us continue to grapple with these.

1. See my blog post….
2. Genesis 25:9
3. Talmud Bava Basra 16a
4. Yalkut Ner Haschalim, manuscript, cited in Torah Shlaima, vol 2, p.998, note 34
5. Midrash Hagadol, cited in Torah Shlaima, vol 2, p.998, note 34
6. Imam Ghazali, in revival of the religious sciences
7. This kind of punishment is also found in the Torah, in Exodus, in the case of Pharaoh whose heart was hardened after he chose the path of defiance instead of letting the Hebrews go free.
8. Ethics of the Fathers

Did not make me a goy?! Sacred text, prejudice and Interpretation (Bahalotecha)

“Bless you God for not making me a goy" (the word "goy" is often translated as a non-Jew 1, but it's meaning is highly contested). These words confronted me in a series of prayers that I have recited every morning since I was five. One morning I was in a meditative mode, fully present and intentional with every word I was saying. I paused. The most obvious inference in this prayer is that I am grateful for not being made an impliedly inferior type of person. But this makes no sense to me. There are many people I know personally who are not Jewish and whom I deeply respect and admire.  If I skipped the prayer, it would mean rejecting the theological/legal system that forms the basis of my Orthodox spiritual life.  So I reinterpret the prayer to mean that despite my acknowledgement of the various paths to personal and spiritual greatness of the Muslims, Christians, Hindus, atheists/agnostics, traditionally spiritual Aboriginals and others whom I so admire, I still thank God for giving me my own cherished Jewish heritage and identity rather than any of those other profoundly beautiful other ways of being.  Afterwards I thought, whom am I kidding? Don’t words have a fixed meaning beyond their creative reinterpretations? Perhaps they do, but that is how I chose to deal with it. 

 

The blessing about not being a non-Jewish person  is followed by an expression of gratitude for not being a slave. I thought that the two prayers could be interpreted in similar ways. To be a "slave" has a certain appeal. As the CEO of a not for profit charity I carry the responsibility for a mission and a few persons’ livelihoods. It's often stressful. Like the Israelites in the desert, I'm tempted by the freedom from responsibility that comes with being an employee or, in the case of the Israelites, the lack of accountability to God they had as slaves of the Pharaohs. 2  Yet despite the attraction of "slavery" I choose to be grateful for the freedom to pursue my vision according to my own conscience and I am happy to pay the price.

The price of leadership can be high. In our Torah reading this week this theme can lead us back to the theme of prejudice. The Israelites in the desert complained and thereby challenged Moses and God. Moses was so frustrated that he would rather have died 3  than continue with his impossible mission of leadership unless God helped him. One group of people are highlighted as being at fault; these were “the multitude among them [who] began to have strong cravings.” 4  The multitude was “not of them 5” (the Jewish nation), but joined the Israelites during the exodus from Egypt and in this case the ethnic Jews are said to have followed the lead of the multitude and also rebelled.

But there is an opportunity for a strong anti-prejudice lesson in our Torah reading too. We read that Moses was married to a black woman, in fact as black as a raven 6 and that Moses’ siblings were rebuked for wrongly criticizing Moses on account of his black wife. I would assume that if his wife was black so was his non-ethnically Jewish, Midyanite father-in-law, Jethro. Shortly before Moses descended into despair he begged his father-in-law to stay in the desert. “Please don’t abandon us…you have been like eyes for us 7” Moses pleaded.  Moses cherished his father-in-law’s advice. A few verses later we are told that Jethro did in fact leave Moses without his support, and that Moses cried out bitterly about the burdens of leadership.   As our sages taught us, there is wisdom among the nations.8  One of our greatest scholars would rise in honour of the accumulated life wisdom of elderly people who were not Jewish 9, while Maimonides happily incorporated ethical teachings from non-Jewish philosophers in his writing. 10

Yet, these highly plausible interpretations in the previous paragraph are far from unanimous. The words “Kushite”/black that describe Moses’ wife are taken to mean that she was not black but undeniably beautiful 11 just as a black person is clearly black. Another commentary argues that in fact Moses didn’t really need his father-in-law’s advice at all and just pretended he needed it out of humility 12.  I suggest that when it comes to religion, especially mine, interpretation is almost everything. So thank you God for making me Jewish even thought I could have been gloriously wonderful in a somewhat different way, being someone else.

This is one demonstration of creative interpretation of a religious text that at first glance seems to say one thing but can actually mean something else.   

Notes

1. I object to words like “goy” or non-Jew as a noun. I think that a person should be defined by what they are and how they define themselves rather than how they are not like me. The literal meaning of the word "goy" is nation and can have a neutral meaning referring to a person from a nation other than the Jewish nation. The blessing traditionally is understood to reflect additional commandments that Jews are obligated in according to Judaism. 

2.  This comment is based on commentary to Numbers 11:5 when the Jews talked about free fish they age in Egypt, which is interpreted by Sifre, cited in Rashi, as being free from Mitzvot

3.  Numbers 11:10-15

4.  Numbers 11:4

5.  Ibn Ezra on 11:4

6.  Numbers 12:1-9 according to Ibn Ezra and Abarbanel

7.  Numbers 10:31

8.  Midrash Eicha Rabba 2:13 מדרש איכה רבה פרשה ב סימן יג

9.  Talmud 33:1

10.  Maimonides,

הרמב"ם בתחילת הקדמתו למסכת אבות ("שמונה פרקים") כותב: "ודע, כי הדברים אשר אומר אותם באלו הפרקים... הם עניינים מלוקטים מדברי החכמים (חכמי ישראל)... ומדברי הפילוסופים גם כן ומחיבורי הרבה בני אדם. ושמע האמת ממי שאמרה". על הפילוסוף היווני אריסטו כותב הרמב"ם: "הוא אשר לימד לבני אדם את דרכי ההוכחה וחוקיה ותנאיה" ("מורה הנבוכים" חלק ב פרק טו(.
cited in http://www.kipa.co.il/ask/show/86913

11.  Sifre, Unkelous, Rashi, and Ralbag, see Ibn Kaspi’s (cited in Nechama Lebovitz) withering critique of these teachings that essentially take the verses to mean the opposite of what the plain text appears to be saying

12.  Ralbag

Extremism: Sacred and Secular Approaches to Prevention

This post argues for both religious and secular approaches to preventing extremism. I am writing this against the backdrop of two incidents of Jewish violent extremism. In recent days a Palestinian home was firebombed: an 18-month-old Palestinian baby Ali Dawabsheh and his father were killed. Shira Banki, a 16 year old girl, who attended a gay pride parade in Jerusalem in support of social justice was stabbed and murdered by a man clearly identifiable as a devout religious Jew.

One response to this is that we need face up to “the contradiction of trying to live in the progressive modern world with a set of rules created by religious-political leaders thousands of years ago… we see rabbis trying to make the Torah fit a modern world. It just doesn't. It can't (1)” In this week’s Torah reading we have references to the Jewish people being the “chosen ones…out of all the nations that are upon the earth (2)”, disobedience of God’s law is equated with “the curse (3)”, and a command to “utterly destroy all the places where the nations, that you shall possess, worshipped their gods (4)”. 

Yesterday I spoke about Torah and tolerance to a group of teachers at my children’s school. I noted that the same religious books that the extremists use to justify their deplorable views and evil actions are read by many other people who reach completely different conclusions. 

Why do so many people reject the hateful conclusions that these texts in Judaism or in other faiths ostensibly call for? As I listened to prominent counter terrorism scholar, Boaz Ganor, at the 2015 Shalom College Graf Oration recently, it occurred to me that this question might not be a focus for leaders who ponder extremism.  In an Op-Ed in the Australian Jewish News (5) I quoted Professor Ganor assertion that counter-terrorism is essentially about ensuring that people who might commit a terrorist act, have neither the capability nor the motivation to do so. Yet, in an hour's presentation, Ganor, offered little more than one sentence on how to prevent the motivation for extremist violence.

I argued in my Op-Ed, that the absence of a clear direction to prevent this motivation for extremism, in Ganor’s talk confirms what I have learned working in this field. Ghaith Krayem, the current president of the Islamic Council of Victoria, was in the process of preparing a strategic plan for countering violent extremism when he confided in me that his discussions with academics had turned up little empirical data to guide communities in this task.

My conversations with Muslim religious leaders and youth, and my grappling with my own faith, suggest to me that there are religious solutions to the multi-faceted problem of extremism (which is not to suggest that extremism is simply a religious problem, it is not).

One approach is to examine texts that some claim legitimises violent extremism and consider the (multiple (6) ways that these have been understood traditionally. What are traditional approaches to interpretation of text and law? Ignorance of methodology of interpretation makes a person, with other social factors at play, vulnerable to being easily led (7).

A second approach is not just to look at one verse whose interpretation is being argued about but to consider it in the context of other relevant texts.  Discrimination in Judaism cannot be considered without the emphatic and repetitive calls not to mistreat the stranger (8).  

A third is to look at the motivations to do the right thing. One surprising motivation I heard from Muslim teenage boys was their fear of their mothers. Muslim leader Maha Abdo, told me that “there are only two factors these boys fear, God and their mothers (9)”. Judaism also demands fear of one’s mother, but western influences or ego seems to have dulled this for many young Jews, but it is apparently less so for the young Muslim I spoke to. Is the influence of mothers being considered by policy makers? My conversation with the NSW attorney general in Bondi last night confirmed that she was a surprised as I was about this phenomenon. 

In a Jewish context, I argued to the teachers at my children’s school I spoke to, for a role for secular knowledge and mores. I told them that this does not contradict the Torah. In fact the opposite is true. One verse in our reading calls the Jew to do “what is good and proper in the eyes of the Lord, your God (10)”. “Good” is interpreted as that which is objectively (11) good in the eyes of God, while “Proper” is defined subjectively, by the “eyes of man (12)”. This surprising traditional interpretation suggests that what is good in the “eyes of God”, (the words at the end of our verse), must include accountability to human (13) notions of ethics. If humans deem bigotry against Palestinians or gays as repugnant then God doesn’t approve of it either. 

A synthesis of religious and secular wisdom might be the best protection against hate and extremism.

1)    Facebook post by David Langsam, on 5/8/2015 https://www.facebook.com/zalman.kastel/posts/10153416053210470?comment_id=10153449411440470&notif_t=feed_comment
2)    Deuteronomy 14:2
3)    Deuteronomy 11:28
4)    Deuteronomy 12:2
5)    Australian Jewish News 07.08.2015
6)    I use the word multiple to refer to the diversity of interpretations within Jewish tradition which states that there are 70 faces in the Torah, I cannot speak for other faiths
7)    Conversation with Sheikh Ahmed Abdo at Sydney University 5.08.2015
8)    Exodus 22:20, and Exodus 23:9, this translation is from chabad.org. There are traditional sources that interpret the Hebrew word Ger,  גרwhich literally means stranger, as convert and focus their commentary on the particular situation of a convert, the commentary cited above relates as much to a newcomer to a religious community as it would to any marginalised person.  One beautiful thing I learned from my son’s teacher Rabbi Benji Simons after my talk, is the etymological roots of the word Ger גר , is גור, “Gur” which means fear. This is an allusion to the fear the stranger might experience without their previous networks that now make them more vulnerable in their new country. Alternatively the fear is xenophobia on the part of the locals.
9)    Conversation with Mrs. Maha Abdo at Bass Hill, 12.08.2015
10)    Deuteronomy 12:28
11)    Gur Arye, super-commentary on Rashi on Deuteronomy 12:28, explaining why Good is related to God’s perspective while straight or proper is linked to human perspectives
12)    Sifre, quoted in Rashi on Deuteronomy 12:28
13)    Yeriot Shlomo, super-commentary on Rashi on Deuteronomy 12:28, citing Pesikta for this parsha (Reay), Sifri and Yalkut

“Defensive” genocide?! wrestling with Numbers 31:14-18- Mattot Maasei

A young Muslim man approached me the other week at a Shiite Islamic centre where I had been warmly welcomed. He quoted a section of the Torah in which Moses reprimanded Jewish soldiers for not killing the females during a battle 1. Moses commanded them to kill the mature women who had “known a man to lie with” 2 and the male children, but to allow the young girls to live. 3  I did not know how to respond. Luckily for me, a community leader told the young man to leave me alone as “this is not appropriate”. However, I continue to struggle with this passage.

Judaism is not suggesting that this passage has any relevance for action today. This was an instruction for action in a particular time, over 3000 years ago, by the prophet Moses who was trusted “to know the will of God”. Jews no longer have prophets and therefore no one has the authority to do as Moses did. In my Chabad tradition, Midian, who attacked the Jews with no provocation, is taught as being symbolic of baseless hatred 4. A recent scholar has argued that it was only “in ancient times, when all nations that were around (the Israelites) were like ‘wolves waiting in ambush’, that it was necessary to fight (in this way), otherwise they would annihilate the rest of Israel, God forbid. And moreover, they needed to conduct themselves with cruelty to frighten/deter the savages among men 5.”  

The context of the above passage was a battle commanded by God, presented in the text as revenge 6 against the people of Midian because they: “distress 7 you with their plots 8 which they contrived against you in the incident of (the idol) Peor and in the incident of Cozbi their sister…” 9 This is understood as a strategy deployed by Midian to deliberately harm the Jews spiritually, that used the daughters of Midian 10 to seduce Jewish men and then pressure them to worship Peor. An argument is made that Midian continued to be an on-going threat and killing them was an act of self-defence. It might be read today as a morality tale that teaches the dangers of lust and its spiritual risks, although it positions the threat as external, in the non-Jewish female “other” rather than focusing on the lust in the Jewish male heart. One problematic dynamic at work in prejudice is essentialising the other 11. The Midianites are portrayed as an evil threat 12 based on “their very nature13.

We recently marked the 20th year anniversary of the Srebrenica massacre and genocide. I shudder to think that the human family, by a combination of action inaction and thought can still sink to such evil. I reflect on my experience in a Melbourne taxi. The Serbian driver told me his narrative. “The world doesn’t understand the true nature of the Serb’s enemies “, he asserted. He argued that the “others” were essentially terrible people, based on historical grievances dating back to the 1200’s, and that he thought Serbian actions against them were justified. It made me realise how people could be persuaded of the supposed essential evil of the “other” and the “morality” of perpetrating violence, despite the concern and condemnation of the “whole world”. I suggest that the fact that Moses himself was married to a Midianite woman, Tzipora 14, is an effective refutation of this essentialist argument, both in terms of Midian and generally. 

Ironically one argument for killing the children, which certainly amounts to genocide, is based on the threat from the children of the enemy when they grow up.  “If you do not drive out the inhabitants of the Land from before you, then those whom you leave over will be as spikes in your eyes and thorns in your sides, and they will harass you” 15. An example of this is the case of Haman 16, a descendent of Amalek, another divinely ordered undesirable people who were to be destroyed. Amalek began the process with an unprovoked hateful attack on the Jews in the desert. This nation was almost completely annihilated by King Saul many centuries later, but a survivor managed eventually to produce this descendant, Haman. This same Haman who argued “that there is one people, spread between the nations, whose customs are different” 17 and that this justified their genocide. Without irony, the same words להשמיד להרוג ולאבד, to “destroy to kill and annihilate”18, that were proposed for the Jews because of Haman’s decree are also used about the intended action against Midian 19. What an astonishing example of karma, blow-back, and the failure of genocide as a security measure.

It is useful to draw attention to teachings that raises concerns about the ethics of this killing. One commentary draws attention to Moses’ anger when learning that the women have been kept alive.  His anger is explained by the fact that "Certainly by law, it is not proper to kill the male children".  Although another consideration “forced” Moses to violate this principle of law, he was angry that he is in a situation where he is ordering this killing. Moses’ anger, and perhaps underlying distress, is so great that he errs in a separate matter of law in the following passage, in which it is left for Elazar to speak the laws. The justice of killing the women, who were pressured into offering their bodies to the spiritual warfare by men, has also been questioned by the leader of the battle Pineas himself. However in the end this was countered by the argument that the women had of their own volition and initiative manipulated the Jewish men to worship the idols.

In the end, I am still troubled by the passage the young man approached me about. It helps that this is not a directive for behaviour today but is instead taken metaphorically as a message against baseless hatred. It was a specific instruction by someone presumed to know the “mind of God”’ in a particular context thousands of years ago. As man evolves, we learn more compassionate and less destructive ways of dealing with threats and grievances, which some of us practice, some of the time. The Truth and Reconciliation process in South Africa and the restorative justice approach are two examples of better ways to deal with past harm. Diplomacy and negotiation can sometimes be effective in preventing future harm. Part of my truth is that my relationship with God and Torah is not entirely based on logic, but rather one that continues despite the tensions of my passionate rejection of defensive genocide, certainly in the modern context, while also holding on to the holy Torah.

I would be grateful for readers’ comments and thoughts, which can be sent to me at zalman@togetherforhumanity.org.au.

_______________________________
1  Numbers 31:14-18
2 Translation of these words by Arye Kaplan in “The Living Torah” edition, who renders יודעת איש למשכב  as actually having “known a man ”rather than being of the age at which she could “know” a man which is the view mentioned by Rashi. This is discussed in the Talmud, Yevamot, 60B
3 Numbers 31:18, the words in the text about the young women are “keep alive for yourselves” has this has been mistranslated as “take for yourselves” and misunderstood by some people who have never read the text in the Hebrew as allowing sexual slavery. Traditionally these words have been interpreted in the Talmud, Yevamot 60b, discusses their being kept alive for future marriage or to serve as maidservants and an instruction to convert them to Judaism by Ohr Hachayim,
4 The Chasidic discourse known as “Heichaltzu” is a prime example of this.
5 Rav Kook, Letters of the Seeing, Part, p.100, (אגרות הראיה ח"א עמ' ק) cited in Sharki, R. Uri, Jewish Morality in War, Parshat Matot, מוסר יהודי במלחמה , לפרשת מטות - דברי הרב אורי שרקי  http://rotter.net/forum/politics/23960.shtml, thanks to R. Y. G. Bechhofer for drawing this article to my attention
6 Numbers 31:1-2
7 The Hebrew word is צוררים (Tzoririm). I have deliberately chosen the translation of Chabad.org renders it as “they distress you” in the present continuous tense. This is similar to the translation of Unkelus who renders it asאינון לכון  מעיקין (Me-ikin Inun Lchon), “distressing to you”, this is also the translation of the King James Bible. This supports a self-defence argument made by the commentary of Klei Yakar that they are “still distressing you, and perhaps God knew what was in the hearts of the Midyanites that their rage had still not subsided and that they are still distressing (you), thinking thoughts” and wicked plots. Ibn Ezra followed by the New King James and many other translations that pop up in a quick google search render it as part tense which fits better with the text of this verse but cancel any self-defence argument and narrow the meaning of the war against Midian to be being just about revenge. The word can also be translated as a noun which might be translated as “antagonists”. This approach is taken (I believe) by the translation of the Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel who renders it as עייקון (Eikun) in Aramaic  
8 This word is in the plural which is hard to explain according to the approach taken by Ibn Ezra see previous note, but fit better with the approach of the Klei Yakar
9 Numbers 25:18
10 This plot is linked to the verse…, one resolution to this contradiction is that the Midyanite women pretended to be Moabites (Abarabanel)
11 Stuart Hall in his work on representations is one scholar who develops this theme
12 Ralbag Bamidbar 31-32, Matos, Toelles 4, Mosad Rav Kook edition, p. 177, Abarbanel
13 Ralbag ibid, states of the Midianites, "they are prepared for (harming the Jews) because of their nature, (acquired as it were from the) the rock that they were hewn from"
14 Exodus
15 Numbers 33:55, also cited by Abarbanel in relation to the war against Midyan
16 Ralbag Bamidbar 31-32, Matos, Toelles 4, Mosad Rav Kook edition, p. 177
17 Esther 3:8
18 Esther 3:13
19 Abarbanel

Semantics? Meaning, Religion in Curriculum and Coexistence

Dr. Kevin Donnelly

“People would argue furiously, although they essentially agreed with each other” a former politician told me this week, reflecting the way that words can obscure meaning. I was thinking about this dynamic this week on my way to a meeting with, Dr. Kevin Donnelly, a critic of the Australian Curriculum along with stakeholders and academics concerned with the place of religion in curriculum. It was significant that we had all these people in the same room because on the surface it would appear that they are very far apart on the issues we were discussing. Yet, it is not clear to what extent the differences are substantial or semantic.

Dr. Donnelly’s review of the curriculum included a recommendation that many took as being about “the contribution of Western civilisation [and] our Judeo-Christian heritage” (1). This understanding was based on reading the text of a recommendation in the review which begins with a call for more “emphasis on morals, values and spirituality”, as being defined by the second part of the sentence in which the only example of this that is mentioned is that of “Judeo-Christian heritage” (2).   Donnelly has argued that he was calling for teaching about all religions.
I think the recommendation is actually advocating for three things.
 A. Students should be instructed into morality and good values.
B.  Students should learn about spirituality in its various forms.
C. The balance in the Australian Curriculum between recognition of non- Anglo/non- Christian traditions on the one hand and “Our Judeo-Christian heritage… and British” influences on the other hand, should be tipped to favour the later rather than the former.

While there is a lot to debate here, there is also some common ground.
My optimism is based in part of the idea that words are far less important than the meaning they seek to convey. This idea is one way of dealing with a series of discrepancies in the two versions of the Ten Commandments given in the Torah (3). One version prohibits “coveting” while the other forbids desire of your fellow’s house etc.  One text commands us to remember the Sabbath while the other demands we keep it. According to prominent Jewish commentator, Abraham Ibn Ezra, this is unimportant because “the words are the body, while the meaning is the soul” (4). 

The debate about the importance of words plays out in the way another verse is interpreted. The Torah states: “and Moses went up to God, and God called him from the mountain” (5). Ibn Ezra liberally interprets this verse by reversing the sequence, suggesting that God first called Moses and only then did Moses ascend. Surely, he would not have gone up without permission! (6) What this approach gains in rational explanation it loses in nuance and potential meaning. An alternative view suggests that the sequence relates to the principle that "in holiness, there is no advance except for the one who prepares himself and is aroused..." (7) Like Moses, we are invited to take the initiative and begin to climb the spiritual mountain. If we prepare, God will respond by calling us "with endearment and greatness".

What a contrast! Of course words matter! An insightful message about spiritual growth can be inferred from the precise words. The same approaches are taken to the singular form of the word ויחן “rested” (which in Hebrew is always either be singular or plural) to tell us that "Israel camped opposite the mountain (8)". Ibn Ezra dismisses the nuance (9) while others see a hint in it, that the people overcame their differences and became “like one man with other heart” united in anticipation of receiving the Torah, (10) and “loving peace thus deserving the Torah which is all [about] peace” (11).

There are times when the words carry the meaning well, and in other times they distract from the meaning. The varying relationships between words and meaning gives me some hope that young people in Australia might one day still have the opportunity to learn about each other's inner life and be one step closer to understanding. Once we take a step ‘on the mountain’ we might be helped to go further, to truly connect with each other “as one man, with one heart” in peace and respect.

Notes:
 (1) Final Report, Australian Curriculum Review, http://docs.education.gov.au/node/36269, recommendation 15 of the review of the Australian Curriculum: “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”.
(2) The construct of a “Judeo-Christian” heritage has been critiqued from various perspectives. The Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Schneerson, has reportedly expressed concern to Rabbi Avraham Shemtov about Islam being excluded from a conception of a Judeo-Christian discourse. I have not been able to verify that this is correct but I agree with the principle that there is a lot that is common to these three faiths that is not reflected in the term “Judeo-Christian”.  On the other hand I can see some merit in Christians graciously acknowledging Jewish influences on their faith. 
(3) Exodus vs. Deuteronomy…
(4) Ibn Ezra on Exodus 20:1
(5) Exodus 19:3
(6) Ibn Ezra to Exodus 20:1, the question of permission is also raised by Chizkuni, however he resolves this matter in two ways. One interpretation is similar to that of Ibn Ezra. Namely, that Moses went up in response to God’s call. In his second interpretation is that Moses went up of his own accord to ask God how he wanted to be worshiped (Chizkuni, on Exodus 19:3). 
(7) Ohr Hachayim
(8) Exodus 19:2 ויחן שם ישראל
(9) Ibn Ezra suggests, I think implausibly, that Israel refers to the elders who had a prominent place near the mountain and since there were few of them they are referred to in the singular form
(10) Rashi following the approach of Mechilta
(11) Old Midrash Tanchuma, Yisro 9, cited in Torah Shlaima

Humans Gone Ape? Affirming our Essential Humanity and a Beauty Named Naama Beresheet

This work by Jonas Malmo, Sweden 2010,  is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 License.

“Look at what they are doing to each other!” say some people , referring to Arabs or Muslims or both as a collective “they”, when they see the images or hear of the horror that is being perpetrated in Syria. This came up in a discussion about a Jewish teaching that people had descended to the level of Apes. The horrible murder and mayhem in Kenya led one participant to comment that  people like the Al-Shabab murderers are indeed apes, followed by the problematic comment about Syria. While people certainly do horrific, evil deeds, influenced by evil thoughts and speech, I think it is wrong to dehumanize them. Beasts kill for food, following their natural instincts without malice or evil intent; humans, on the other hand, make choices and carry out evil plans. It is the humanity of every human community, rather than the evil choices made by  some of their members,  that we should recognise. 

One important concept  about the nature of prejudice is the process of “essentialising”. This involves taking a negative characteristic or perspective about a member or several members of a group and reducing the group as a whole to that one characteristic and nothing else (1).  I heard of a chilling anecdote from Kenya  that one of the murderers responded to a 4 year old child’s assertion that he was a “very bad man” by offering him a Mars bar and telling the child that “we are not monsters” (2).  This interaction suggests to me that the killer, despite his evil side, is, in one sense, a person like me, rather than a demon. He wants to be perceived as a “good person”; he must think that he is making a “tough” decision that seems entirely justified in his twisted understanding of religion and morality.

I wish to explore the theme of essential humanity through the complicated case of a woman named Naama. This woman’s story carries a redemptive message about the enduring human spirit, regardless of ancestry or even after going through a “demonic” phase.

Naama’s birth is the result of an unwanted pregnancy. Her father Lemech, a descendant of the murderer Cain, married two women (3). One wife, Ada, was married for the purpose of child bearing; having served her purpose, she was   to spend the rest of her life “like a widow”, ignored by Lemech. The other wife, Tzila, whose name means “shade” because she was always in Lemechs “shadow”, was for sex. She was given a contraceptive drink and was “adorned like a prostitute” (4). Thwarting Lemech’s intentions, God ensures that Tzila becomes pregnant (5) and gives birth to a son named Tuval Cain and a daughter Naama. 

Unsurprisingly, Lemech’s two wives were jealous of each other and quarrelled.  Lemech finds it unbearable and cries out, “How are my sins worse than those of all people? that I have no quiet in my home, not when eating, not when drinking, not when going to sleep or waking up, did I kill a man(6)? Or choke little children to deserve this?! (7).

Tuval Cain and his sister Naama (8), raised in this household, are the world’s first iron workers (9) and arms manufacturers (10). Lemech  is unconcerned by the moral cost of creating weapons because he argues, much like gun control opponents do today, that he is not responsible for bringing the sword and murder into the world. He argues (11) that “the sword is not the only way to murder; in fact killing without it by repeatedly inflicting a barrage of wounds and bruises is a much worse death” (12). 

Naama, whose name means pleasant, was exceptionally beautiful (13). Men strayed after her (14), including the “sons of God”, meaning the children of the judges, who saw “the daughters of men, that they were good and they took all women as they pleased” (15).  Even demons fell for her. She is also thought to be the mother of Ashmadai, the king of demons (16). The commentary written by these ancient men is crying out for a feminist critique. Not attempting to offer it myself, I am instead considering this from the perspective of the religious mindset of scholars from between 500-2000 years ago, that describes this woman as one who would seem to be beyond redemption. This, however, is not the case.

Naama lived in a time where the human population became so degenerate that they were described as having their faces changed to those of apes, people became Centaurs, (17) half men, but also “like horses and mules without understanding”(18). Yet, our sages tell us that she was pleasing in the “end of her actions”; the angels sought to stray after her but she ran away from them (19).  She eventually (20) married the righteous Noah (21) and is therefore the mother of us all.

The key point for me here is that, despite the fact that we can behave in ways that might best be described an inhuman, nothing, not ancestry, family influence, personal choice, character or even horrific evil deeds, schemes and thoughts, like those of Al Shaabab, can ever erase the essential humanity of us all.

Also, there has been much discussion on facebook about a Muslim tradition or Hadith regarding Jewish people who sinned and were turned into apes. This can easily be misconstrued by non-Muslims and Muslims themselves as dehumanising. I am afraid this might feed anti-Jewish bigotry for some Muslims as well as generalised hatred of Muslims by some Jews. Yet, for me as a Jew, I find it fascinating that the idea of ‘humans gone ape’ is clearly articulated in my own tradition for a very similar reason. 

Notes
1)    Hall, S. ed. (1997) Representation, Cultural Representations and Signifying Practices, London, Sage. p.245
2)    http://metro.co.uk/2013/09/24/british-boy-4-tells-nairobi-shopping-mall-terrorist-youre-a-very-bad-man-4099859/
3)    Genesis 4:19
4)    Midrash Rabba/Beresheet Rabba chapter 23
5)     Pesikta Zutra, Rashi, Rabbenu Bchaya
6)     Genesis 4:23
7)    Rabbi Yossi Kara, cited in Bchor Shor, An alternative interpretation (Radak) is that he is so enraged by this that he threatens to kill them, boasting of his capacity to do this as if he had already (Ibn Ezra and Radak) “killed a man” and could do the same to his wives if they continue to displease him. Ibn Ezra and Radak, support their view by citing the common usage of the past tense to refer to future events
8)    Midrash Hanealam (literally, the hidden midrash, cited first in the new Zohar 19b, and in Kasher, M. M., in Torah Shlaima (1992), Jerusalem. Beit Torah Shlaima) The text only tells us about Tuval Cain’s occupation but the unusual phrase “and the sister of Tuval Cain” was Naama, is taken to mean that she was like him with the same level of expertise.
9)    Genesis 4:22
10)    Rashi and Ramban. The word Tuval in the name Tuval Cain means spice, which is taken to mean that he extends Cain. Whereas Cain killed with his bare hands, Tuval Cain and his sister enabled killing with greater efficiency and ease (Midrash Rabba/Beresheet Rabba chapter 23)
11)    This is based on yet another interpretation of the phrase “did I kill a man?” in Genesis 4:23,
12)     Ramban, Rabbenu Bchaya
13)    Midrash Rabba
14)     Zohar Chadash Part 1, 55
15)    Genesis 6:2, commentary discusses whether this was consensual as the “sons of God”, according to one commentary, refers to the descendants of Cain who were exceptionally attractive, “beautiful and tall”, leading women to abandon their husbands (Midrash cited in Torah Shlaima); or it might have involved rape, particularly by the sons of the judges, an alternative meaning to the phrase “sons of God”, who grabbed women and raped them in the market place. Their example was followed by ordinary men as well (Sifre/Sifre Zuta). According to one commentary, the verse Genesis 6:4 “the fallen were on the earth”  refers to the Hebrew word for a miscarried foetus, a נפל (Nefel),  and suggests that many of the women who became pregnant were given a type of drink that caused them to miscarry because of their shame, and the earth was filled with aborted foetuses (Tzror Hamor- cited in Meam Loez).    
16)    Midrash Hanealam ibid
17)    Midrash Rabba/Beresheet Rabba chapter 23  
18)     Torah Shlaima citing מו"ע  (not sure who this is).
19)    Midrash Agada, cited in Torah Shlaima  
20)     I am taking the liberty here of compiling a composite image here that includes many different perspectives. I am not suggesting that the original commentators saw it as one narrative, they clearly did not.
21)     Midrash Rabba/Beresheet Rabba chapter 23

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.

Discrimination and Religious Teachings: An Exploration of One Jewish and One Islamic Tradition

Recently I attended a Muslim event. We were treated to performances of poetry and a combination of storytelling, song and music. One story about the forbearance of the prophet Mohammed included a Jew insulting and falsely accusing the prophet.   On Saturday afternoon I lead a Torah discussion group about the Sidra (reading) of the week and drew attention to the verse and associated commentary about a non-Jewish female slave that I found quite uncomfortable reading. This blog post is an exploration of the way religious leaders or teachers select texts or stories to tell that may lead people to problematic conclusions. Should there never be self- censorship? Is contextualizing enough? This is far from a complete examination of discrimination in either Jewish or Islamic texts or the issue of responsible leadership. Instead, it is an attempt to shed some light on the issues by examining my own experiences over the past few days.

The Story

A young Sheikh named Omar, told a story that essentially went as follows: A Jewish convert to Islam named Abdullah once entered a Mosque and saw another Jewish man named Zaid sitting among Muslims. Zaid explained to Abdullah that "that I knew from reading my scriptures that we expected a Prophet and the characteristics of this prophet. I noticed all the attributes in the Prophet Mohammed except for one: forbearance. I decided to test him”.

Zaid approached the Prophet Mohammed and offered him a loan, which the prophet accepted and agreed to repay the load in dates. Three days before the load was due for repayment Zaid walked up to the prophet as he was surrounded by his companions and many people. He made derogatory statements about the tribe of the prophet, accusing them of being dishonest and stealing the wealth of others and made accusations relating to the failure to repay the loan.

 

Umar, a companion of the prophet was outraged and drew his sword. But the Prophet Mohammed stopped Umar and insisted that Zaid be talked to about dealing with issues using honourable speech and noting that there were still three days left under the terms of the loan. In spite of this the Prophet instructed Umar to immediately give Zaid 1½ times the original amount of dates. This was to compensate Zaid for the trauma of being threatened by Umar.  

Making sense of the story

Listening to the story, I first took it at face value, a story about the virtue of patience. It echoed, for me, a Talmudic story about how the patience of the sage Hillel was tested by a man pestering him with inane questions to win a bet that he could make Hillel angry[i]. Yet, it also struck me that the two Jews in the story both converted to Islam, which made me just a little uncomfortable. In subsequent conversations about the story, some people commented about the portrayal of the Jew in the story as disrespectful to the prophet and money driven or being cast in the role of the villain.

A key strategy for positive inter-group relations is curiosity. Yishai Shaliff taught me the concept of asking from “a place of not knowing[ii]” which is essentially about asking open question without any implicit assumptions. I asked Sheikh Omar to tell me more about this story.  He shared with me that this was the first Hadith he learned as a child. But when he first heard it, it was missing both the beginning and the end and seemed to be just about the loyalty of Umar to the Prophet. On a trip to a small village with many devout descendants of the prophet in Yemen, Omar was thrilled to discover the full story. For him this story is about the importance of non-violence and calm responses to provocation. We also found common ground in discussing the laws against taking interest in both our traditions. I wonder how the prophet was allowed to give Zaid the extra 50%? In Jewish law, even being more social with the lender could be construed as interest[iii]. Sheikh Omar told me that this was the very same question he wondered about when first hearing the story but concluding that the additional 50% was a separate transaction to the loan itself.

I can relate to Sheikh Omar’s excitement about uncovering a fuller understanding of a sacred story or text, especially as this leads to a rich practical message about non-violent responses to provocation.  Still, I wonder about whether young people who attend Sheik Omar’s classes who hear this story, will also get an unintended message that Jews might be worthy of the noble prophet’s patience but are also the ones who might insult the Prophet.

Laws related to Discrimination in the Torah reading

In seeking to understand the other, it is important to reflect on ourselves and our own frame of reference. Returning to my own text, our reading this week is emphatic in the prohibition of discrimination against the stranger[iv]. “And you shall not mistreat a stranger, nor shall you oppress him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt”. And again: “And you shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, since you were strangers in the land of Egypt”. The second verse seems to be an appeal to empathy, you know “how hard it is (for the stranger) when he is mistreated[v]”. These instructions are related to the issue of power and powerlessness[vi] and the moral imperative of treating the powerless newcomer well, never abusing the power imbalance. It also reflects a need for sensitivity to the suffering of dislocation experienced by a stranger far from friends and home[vii]. 

The Non-Jewish Slave Woman’s “Physical relationship[viii]”

One of the most difficult theoretical aspects of Jewish law comes up in the same reading.  I say, theoretical because these laws have not been practiced for some two thousand years. Most of the commentary was written over a thousand years after the practice was abolished. Yet it remains part of our tradition. The Torah tells us something about the treatment of a Non-Jewish Slave Woman, but she is not the subject of the verse but rather one whose fate is secondary. This is a discussion about a Jewish slave, the Torah tells us that “If his master gives him a woman/wife[ix](?), and she bears him sons or daughters, the woman and her children shall belong to her master, and he shall go out alone[x]”. The “woman” is a Canaanite (non-Jewish) slave woman, who is “given” to the Jewish slave for a period of six years but when her partner goes free she and their children remain behind as property of their owner.  

The relationship between this slave woman and the Jewish male slave is centred on the production of slave children[xi].  This relationship is only permitted if the Jewish male slave is already married[xii] ‘because his soul is already attached with his love toward his Jewish wife’ but if he is not already married we need to worry that he will become attached to his Cananite slave partner[xiii]”. The quality of their relationship does not seem to matter at all. The master is allowed to compel the union between the slaves if it is against the wishes of the male slave[xiv]  (I have not found anything written that is explicit about requiring her consent[xv]).  There is no requirement for this sexual union to become a marriage between the slaves.  ‘The Jewish slave should not be separated by his master from his Jewish wife to be required to become one with and sleep with the Canaanite slave instead of his Jewish wife, but the Jewish male slave does have discretion in this matter[xvi]’. The only restriction is that this slave woman cannot be “given” to two slaves at a time[xvii]. Perhaps somewhat reassuringly, the Torah text itself, as opposed to the commentary, does envision that the two slaves might come to love each other to the point that in some case the Jewish slave would be prepared to continue to be a slave because he declares “I love my (Canaanite slave) wife and my children[xviii]”.

Conclusion

When I think about this text, I have no neat way to explain it away. It says what it says. While it is convenient that this all theoretical and is no longer practiced and has not been practiced for thousand years, the more important point for me is that the total moral message of Judaism is one of human dignity and embracing all human beings. Yet, there is the danger that other Jews will take these Jewish teachings as legitimising prejudicial attitudes. As a Rabbi and a Jewish educator this is something I am concerned about. Since Saturday, I have been thinking about this a lot, consulting a trusted colleague and asking participants in the Saturday discussion group what their conclusions were. Not one participant got the message that racism is ok. Our youngest participant merely thought “it was weird”. While I despise censorship by religious leaders, deciding what part of the tradition the masses can be trusted with, I am still grappling with the merit of highlighting the most difficult passages. This is one reason I have delayed publishing this article till now.

When it comes to the texts of others there needs to be a genuine curiosity to learn what these mean for those who follow those texts. This is what I did with my conversation with Omar in which I was moved by what this story means to him. I also think it is legitimate for Jews or anyone to be concerned about the ways negative portrayals of minorities in the sacred texts of faiths other than one’s own might be understood and applied. This needs to be handled with care. I am not sure about the best way to approach an Inter-faith discussion with him about this, in which I show respect for the sacredness of this story for him while also exploring possible misuse of the story.  I trust that with good will, a bit of skill, sincerity and openness we can have a fruitful discussion.

---

[i] Talmud Shabbat 31

[ii] Shalif, Y, Liviatan, I, Paran, R. (2007), "Care-full Listening and Conversations", Creating Dialogue between Members of Conflicting Multi-Cultural Groups Publication Department, Israel Ministry of Education

[iii] Maimonides Laws of the Lender and Borrower, 5:12

[iv] Exodus 22:20, and Exodus 23:9, this translation is from chabad.org. There are traditional sources that interpret the Hebrew word Ger, which literally means stranger, as convert and focus their commentary on the particular situation of a convert, the commentary cited above relates as much to a newcomer to a religious community as it would to any marginalised person.  

[v] Rashi

[vi] Ibn Ezra

[vii] Sefer Hachinuch

[viii] This way of describing the relationship is used by Munk, Rabbi E, in the Call of The Torah and Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch in his commentary to the Torah following earlier sources.  

[ix] The Hebrew word, Isha, means both woman and wife. Which one is the correct translation?

[x] Exodus 21:4

[xi] Maimonides, Laws of Slaves 3:3, Chizkuni, p. 263, Mosad Harav Kook edition, 2006, Jerusalem

[xii] Mechilta Drashbi

[xiii] Klei Yakar, referring to Exodus 21:5 and Chizkuni ibid.

[xiv] Maimonides ibid, Rashi on Talmud Temura 30a,

[xv] There is an implication in Chizkuni, p.264 that her consent was not required

[xvi] Ramban, Mechilta Drashbi

[xvii] Mechilta Drashbi, Maimonides, Laws of Slaves 3:5

[xviii] Exodus 21:5