Fear, doubt and “the Muslims” Vayishlach

Photo by Nasrul Ekram,
https://www.flickr.com/photos/inrime_nasrul/
reproduced under creative commons
license 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

Late one evening this week, I received yet another Facebook private message expressing hostility towards Muslims and Islam. This kind of hostility is often driven by fear, a combination of healthy self-preservation instincts given the terrible deeds of some, and misunderstanding due to an absence of meaningful contact with Muslim people. More generally, fear in peoples’ lives may be driven by self-doubt. In cultures that value confidence, feeling afraid can make one feel ashamed; hostility can serve as a more acceptable mask.

As he traveled home to the land of his birth, the Biblical Jacob became afraid and distressed about his brother Esau coming toward him with 400 men.  His fear was of being killed in an attack but his distress is interpreted as relating to the prospect of him killing his attackers.1 Yet that interpretation is questioned by other scholars who ask why Jacob should be distressed about killing assailants in self-defence? 2 I find this second line of commentary disturbing. Surely the prospect of “spilling blood”, destroying the priceless treasure that is every human being, is distressing to the spirit! 3 Fear about our safety due to the threat of terrorism, and acceptance of the need for defensive measures, should never be allowed to overcome our humanity, to blur our sense of right and wrong toward innocent people - including Muslims.

An alternative suggestion is that Jacob was distressed because he was grappling with two opposing arguments about killing his attackers. On the one hand, he had been promised protection by God which rendered him invincible; as his life would not be in danger, killing his assailants could not be justified based on concern for his own survival.  On the other hand, however, he might have sinned and in consequence lost God’s protection, in which case his life would be in danger and he would be justified in killing to defend it.4 

A related interpretation finds reason for his distress in the mouths of his wives.  “If you are afraid, why did you take us out of our father’s house? Rather you should trust in the ‘shade of your Creator’ who told you to return to the land of your fathers”. Immediately, “Jacob felt afraid of the external threat of attack by his brother and distressed internally because of the criticism of his wives”.5   Their words seem to have stung because he felt ashamed of his doubt. I feel for him.

All the above discussion assumes the possibility of a credible threat.  In an alternative authoritative interpretation Jacob had received a report from his scouts that in fact his brother Esau was approaching with 400 men to honour Jacob. The scouts reported that the delegation was motivated by Esau’s joy about Jacob’s return and his love for his brother. Yet Jacob disregarded the report of his own fact-finding and goodwill mission because he didn’t believe the evidence. He was so afraid because he clung to his prejudgment about Esau’s evil intentions.6 The intelligence from the scouts seems to have been proven correct, however, when Esau ran toward Jacob, hugged him, kissed him and cried when they met.7  Our response to perceived threats should respect evidence, or the absence of evidence, and be proportionate.

Fear and doubt are reasonable and natural reactions to threats of violence and the horrible deeds we have lately heard about, read about and seen on film. In one sense, it is unreasonable to feel ashamed of this fear. Yet some sense of shame can also be useful; it challenges us when we think we are letting ourselves down. When confronted with fear of the other, or with ourselves and when confronted with self-doubt, it is a good time to pray, to take some time alone 8 and to wrestle with the feelings, the facts and our faith. Jacob did that and emerged a champion.9   

Notes

1 Bereshit Rabba 76, cited in Rashi

2 Mizrahi on Genesis 32:8, Beer Basadeh, written by 19th century Bosnian Jewish scholar Rabbi Meir Danon

3 Kasher, R. Menachem, in Torah Shlaima p. 1267, note 50, follows the tradition about God silencing the song of the angels during the splitting of the sea because his Egyptian “creations were drowning”

4 Beer Basadeh on Genesis 32:8

5 Ner Haschalim, manuscript cited in Torah Shlaima p. 1266, 50

6 Rashbam Genesis 32:7, Bchor Shor offers a similar but less definite approach. In his view the scouts report that they came back and they don’t know what is in Esau’s mind, wether for good or bad because he didn’t respond to their questions, instead he said I will go to him and speak with him, “mouth to mouth”. 

7 Genesis 33:4, although one would think this evidence settles the argument about Esau’s good will, it does not. There is an argument in the Sifre cited in Rashi about Esau’s sincerity. One view asserts that in that moment he kissed him with his whole heart with another view that in fact it was done with his whole heart.  

8 Genesis 32:25

9 Genesis 32:29

Selective empathy and relationships with 'others’ - Vayetzei

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2.       Genesis 29:4

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

4.       Radak

5.       Genesis 29:4-6

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

7.       Genesis 29:22

8.       Genesis 29:26

9.       Genesis 31:1      

Elusive love of the “undeserving” - Toldot

Copyright Noel Kessel 2015, first appeared in
the Australian Jewish News,
Jewish University student walked 8 hours from a Synagogue
in the East part of Sydney to a Mosque in the West. He was
accompanied by Muslim and Jewish friends for parts of the walk.

This post is less about answers than questions.  The fraught quest for attachment to parents and for parental love has scarred many people. I emphatically believe in unconditional parental love which is why I am so puzzled by the way the Torah reading this week seems to contradict this principle. A related, but broader question, is whether love must be earned or should love be our first and fundamental disposition towards all people? A very irate man called me this week to complain about what he described as my loving behavior toward Muslims; he seemed to regard love as something that Muslims, in general, do not deserve.  

In the Torah reading we are told that the mother, Rebecca, loved Jacob [1] but the text tells us nothing about how she felt about Jacob’s twin, Esau, at this point.  Disturbingly, commentary suggests that her love for one son rather than the other was based on them earning this love.  Commentary suggests that every time Rebecca heard Jacob’s voice her love for him would increase”; [2] “when she would hear his (Jacobs) pleasant words and would see his wholesome ways”. [3] However Rebecca is thought to not love her other son Esau [4] because “not only did he not occupy himself with wisdom and the ways of God, but he chose an occupation for himself that put him in danger every day…”. [5] Her love is clearly conditional which I find really hard to accept.

In contrast to Rebecca’s lack of love for the “evil” Esau we are told that “Isaac loved Esau because of the (hunting) game in his mouth”. [6] Far from this being seen as endorsement of unconditional love, by the practice of one of our patriarchs no less, this fathers love for his “bad child” seems a fault according to some of our traditional teachings.

A simple understanding of the text would have us believe that Esau’s hunting of “game from which he (Isaac) would eat” [7] was the reason Isaac loved this particular son. Isaac is portrayed in one tradition as quite particular in his tastes, indulgent and loving all kinds of delicacies, perhaps even spoiled, being the younger child born to his parents in their old age. Isaac consumed meat of the hunted animals and birds as well as choice wine brought to him by Esau. [8]   One Midrash links Isaac’s love to the evils of bribery and the proverb “A bribe is a precious stone in the eyes of the one who has it; wherever he turns, he prospers”, [9] asserting that bribery is like a stone, where ever it falls it breaks things. [10]

Yet, other teachings reflect a reluctance to portray our patriarch Isaac so harshly, instead either blaming Esau for misleading Isaac about his true nature [11] or believing that is was Isaac’s prophecy about a righteous descendent of Esau, named Ovadia, that was the reason for his love [12] rather than loving this boy Esau for himself. 

While the text tells us nothing about Isaac’s love for his “good son”, Jacob, commentary is not comfortable with leaving this as is, instead asserting that surely the deserving son enjoyed his father’s love and explaining away the fact that this is not stated in the text.[13]

As the story unfolds, Esau is eventually so resentful of his brother Jacob that he plans to kill him. Chillingly, Esau’s weak attachment to his mother can be seen in the fact that although Esau is reluctant to kill his brother while his father is alive (instead waiting for the end of the mourning period after his father’s death) [14] he thinks nothing of his mother’s grief.[15]

There is a cryptic phrase toward the end of the story that refers to Rebecca as the mother of both Jacob and Esau [16] when she sends Jacob away to her brother’s house to save him from Esau’s murderous plan. This reference is explained as her being concerned for the safety of both her sons, perhaps because, in a confrontation between the twins, Jacob might harm her other son Esau [17] whom she still cares about. Her brother would protect them both from each other. This suggests that after all Rebecca did love Esau despite her disapproval of him, despite the contrary impression from the texts mentioned above about love needing to be earned.

This discussion is about Midrash rather than Jewish Law which usually stipulates one right or wrong way to do things. When it comes to these moral discussions, there are 70 “faces to the Torah”, which means that a religious Jew is not strictly bound by any particular interpretations of this story. I look forward to learning more about this. I shall continue to advocate unconditional parental love and a presumption of love for all as primary virtues. There are, however, exceptions for me.  Jews, unlike Christians, are not called to love their enemies. I don’t love despots, tyrants, abusers of trust or my closed-minded caller who showed no interest in understanding what I do, or why, and who went so far as to say that I have no right  to call myself a Rabbi. But unless there is very good reason to the contrary, I believe I must approach each and every person with good will and an open heart. As we are taught, the Torah’s ways are pleasant and all it’s paths are of peace . [18]

1. Genesis 25:28
2. Bereshit Rabba 63a, commentary cited in Torah Shlaima, vol. 2, 1030, note 181, highlights the particular word for love in the text is  אוהבתin the present tense rather than  אהבה in the past tense
3. Sachar Tov, cited in Torah Shlaima, vol. 2, 1030, note 181, Jacob’s wholesomeness is also cited in Rashbam, while Yalkut Ohr Afela, (cited in Torah Shlaima, vol. 2, 1030, 182) suggests that the love was the result of Rebecca’s prophecy that Jacob would be righteous
4. Seforno
5. Radak
6. Genesis 25:28
7. Unkelos translation of Genesis 25:28
8. Sechel Tov, cited in Torah Shlaima, vol. 2, 1029, note 177
9. Proverbs 17:8
10. Midrash Tanchuma, Toldos 8
11. Midrash Tanchuma, Toldos 8, also cited in Rashi
12. Midrash Hagadol, cited in Torah Shlaima, vol. 2, 1030, 180
13. Radak asserts that there is no need to tell us that Isaac loved (the righteous?) Jacob, because he loved Jacob more than he Esau, in fact he did not love Esau (simply as a son) except for the fact that he would bring him hunted game to eat.  Seforno also asserts that Isaac’s love for Esau was in addition to his love for Jacob, but that although Isaac would have known, without a doubt, that Esau was not “complete” like Jacob he loved him anyway
14. Genesis 27:41
15. Ohr Hachayim on Genesis 25:28
16. Genesis 28:5
17. Rabbenu Bchai
18. Proverbs 3:17

Being Jewish: Dissent, Self-Criticism and Self-Doubt (Lech Lecha)

I have been reading the often funny, interesting and nasty observations of Tuvia Tennenbom in his book ‘Catch the Jew’.1 Central to his story and argument are a few key caricatures. These include the ‘idiotic, fanatical, but sometimes interesting Haredi Jews’, the ‘self-critical, self-doubting, self-hating, incoherent, hypocritical, humourless leftist Jews’, alongside various non-Jewish villains. It got me thinking about the nature of being Jewish and the Jewish attitude to dissent and self-doubt.

Abraham, considered to be the first Jew, discovered God through his own logic and then defiantly destroyed idols to demonstrate their powerlessness, according to oral Jewish tradition2 (and also found in Islamic traditions). Abraham then miraculously survived the punishment of being thrown into a fiery furnace.3  This story suggests that part of being Jewish involves questioning established views and tearing down conventionally ‘worshipped but false symbols’. As attractive as the story is, it is not recorded in the text of the Torah, which arguably diminishes its significance somewhat. 4  Still, although some Jews in positions of authority might find it convenient to have all dissenters fall into line, the right kind of Chutzpa is clearly an important part of being Jewish.    

Being Jewish and a non-conformist5 also sometimes demands sacrifices in terms of relationships. The very first instruction from God to a Jew made him tear himself away from his land, his birthplace and his father’s house.6 7  The dislocation caused by “being removed is considered to be more difficult for people than all (other difficulties)”.8 but Abraham had to abandon friends and family for the sake of his love of God.9 Moving away is also understood in a symbolic and metaphoric sense “as the thinking spirit abandoning material things…in order to occupy oneself with achieving completeness”.10 The quest for completeness can also be linked to the ritual of circumcision11, which at its most basic level is a physical symbol of a close exclusive bond with God, called a covenant.

Someone on a mission for, and in relationship with, God one might be forgiven for exhibiting some hubris. Yet we find the opposite in Abraham, the archetypal Jew. When there is a famine in the land he does not rely on a miracle to save him, instead he travels to Egypt. When God promises Abraham the land of Canaan, he questions God: “With what (personal merit12) will I know that I will (in fact) inherit it?”13 After Abraham had rescued his nephew and his fellow Sodomites in battle, he was afraid in case perhaps just one of the people he had killed in battle may have been righteous.14 Abraham’s fear is linked to the proverb “fortunate is the person who is always afraid, but the one who hardens his heart will fall into evil”.15”  And Abraham himself is criticised by one authority for complicity in his wife Sarah’s mistreatment of his second wife, Hagar, conduct seen as a ‘karmic’ origin of conflict between Jews and Arabs in later times.16 Self-criticism and self-doubt are both very Jewish.      

So I say to Mr. Tenenbaum and to some who criticise me as a “dissenter”: I make no apologies for thinking deeply about how Jews can do better and how we get it wrong sometimes. This is my obligation as a Jew. If someone doesn’t like Jewish self-doubt or criticism, the Jewish response is to “be bold like a leopard in the face of those who mock him”.17


1.    Tenenbom, T (2015), Catch the Jew, Gefen Publishing
2.    Bereshit Rabba 38
3.    Bereshit Rabba 38. Whether Abraham miraculously survived being inside the fire or a miracle happened to change the Kings mind and free him is discussed by some of the commentaries. Abarbanel on Lech Lcha and Ramban on Genesis 11:28 mention the alternative view that a hidden miracle occurred that the thought to free Abraham was put into the kings heart to free him from prison. 
4.    Abarbanel, argues that whatever Abraham accomplished out of his own thinking and mind is less significant and worthy of being recorded in the Torah than what happened as a result of God speaking to him through prophecy.
5.    See Likutei Diburim of the 6th Lubavitcher Rebbe, who links the meaning of the word Ivri/Hebrew to “one from the other side of the river” representing taking a different path to those around oneself.
6.    I wonder why only the father rather than the mother is mentioned here. In the same vein, the name of Abraham’s father, Terach, is given in the Torah while the name of his mother is not stated. A Midrash (Pirkey D’Rabbi Eliezer, cited in Torah Shlaima vol.1 p.542, note 4) states that his mother’s name was Amaslah, Amaslai.
7.    Genesis 12:1
8.    Pirkey D’Rabbi Eliezer, cited in Torah Shlaima vol.1 p.542, note 4
9.    Ramban
10.    Abarbanel, see also Likutei Sichos vol. 1 by the Lubavitcher Rebbe
11.    Genesis 17:10-14
12.    Bereshit Rabba 44
13.    Genesis 15:8
14.    Bereshit Rabba 44
15.    Proverbs 28:14
16.    Ramban on Genesis 16:6
17.    Kitzur Shulchan Aruch, opening paragraph

Murder in Parramatta: Cain, shame and responsibility – Bereshit

One image has been playing on my mind since the murder of Curtis Cheng: the 15 year old killer waving his gun in the air and shouting. I see a link to the young murderer in Oregon who reportedly wrote that mass killings can get a person “known by no one” into the limelight.1

I do not have access to evidence about these murders. Instead I will tap traditional teachings for some possible insights. Escaping shame is a major factor in the first recorded murder I am aware of, that of Abel by his brother Cain. The vain, honor seeking2 younger brother Abel and his older brother Cain wanted God to settle the question which of them was greater, the shepherd Abel or the farmer Cain. They each brought offerings, but Cain and his offering were ignored while God turned to Abel and his offering3, by sending a miraculous fire4 and by blessing Abel with success while Cain’s crops failed. 5 Cain “was despising himself in his own eyes”6 feeling shamed by God,7 his face “blackened like a coal”.8 Cain’s shame then turned into rage, his face burning like fire.9 

One remedy for deep shame involves recognizing that one has a choice10 about the future as well as opportunity to take responsibility for past failure and come to terms with it rather than blaming others.11 God asked Cain why he was so angry and ashamed.12 God drew Cain’s attention to his ability to choose a path that would make him better than Abel.13 Unfortunately Cain chose not to avail himself of this option, instead allowing his anger to lead him to murder. Is there some similarity to Cain’s craving for status due to his shame,  in a 15 year old murderer holding his arm up as high as he can, waving a gun and shouting a religious slogan?  

A year ago another person, also drawn to Islamist extremism, and perhaps also seeking personal redemption though shedding the blood of others, had been dismissed by some as crazy. He was a criminal who victimized the women in his life. Was he viewed as being outside of human society and not quite human?  In some of our traditions Cain is seen in this way: his ‘breed’ “had two heads and four eyes”.14 We are told that his father was not Adam but the snake that impregnated Eve15, or the evil angel Samael.16 While there are reasons to isolate murderers, and to communicate a high level of disgust with their behaviour, the child’s face of the Parramatta killer reminds us of the chilling truth that killers are people like the rest of us.

We are now hearing incessant demands by some for Australian Muslims to “own this crime”. One Muslim writer expressed frustration that Muslims seem to be expected to prevent events like this, despite the obvious fact that this is not something they can guarantee. Italian people are not expected to prevent all “Italian crime”!

In fact, there are local Muslim community workers, including two amazing Sheiks I know, who are undertaking educational work that will hopefully make violent incidents like the Parramatta murder less likely. Some of these workers believe that, given the kind of public conversation we are having, highlighting their work in the media might be seen as conceding some guilt about or association with the crime.

There is always room for improvement, but I wish the degree of acceptance of responsibility for preventive education among Australian Muslims was better known. At the same time, I believe that non-Muslims have responsibility to do our part in ensuring we develop inclusive communities that preserve the dignity of all, thereby reducing the likelihood of school students feeling so alienated that they can be brain-washed to commit murder. 

Religion is sometimes a contributing factor to hostility; but it can also contribute to solutions. In Genesis we see God feeling aggrieved about the state of the world, and his response is to wipe out civilization.17 He is said to be saddened by the “humans on the earth”18, which one commentary interprets as being too much mixed up with matters of the earth, focused on the material and the body rather than the spiritual.19 In the Torah, God eventually promises never to destroy the world again, because he accepts the reality of human frailty. The symbol of this commitment is the rainbow.

As parents of all faiths do their best to raise good children, so do our multi-dimensional communities - via social institutions providing education, health, welfare and policing and in more personal ways in our everyday activities. , In the wake of another tragic murder, I reaffirm my commitment to continue my own efforts to affirm the dignity of all, to try to ensure that shame, when it appears, can be more successfully harnessed for good, rather than become a driver for rage and violence. As flawed humans, people of all ages need to learn how to pursue excellence and success with patience and resilience, and how to promote justice with courage and compassion in a flawed world

 Notes

1.    https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/essay-refusing-to-say-a-killers-name-is-no-more-than-symbolic-empowerment/2015/10/02/2cd2cf7c-6923-11e5-9ef3-fde182507eac_story.html
2.    Abarbanel. The Hebrew name of Abel, Hevel, means air, which can be linked using modern slang to being ‘full of hot air’, the choice of shepherding sheep and “leading them” is seen as reflecting this pursuit of being important. In contrast to this view of Abarbanel, Ohr Hachayim (starting with the words Vateled et Kain) quotes the sages that Cain was of the aspect of evil and Abel was of the aspect of good. A synthesis of the two views might be found in the Ohr Hachayim’s assertion that Abel soul was also that of Moses, that means that Moses was a reincarnation of Abel and that in the wounds inflicted on Abel by Cain he removed the bad elements from Abel’s soul and the pure good was revealed. This is alluded to in the words in Genesis 4:1, “I have acquired a man, God” referring to Moses the man of God who only reached this level of being with God because of the suffering inflicted on him by Cain. This also links to story cited in Meiri about Moses having a flawed character that he overcame by his working on himself.
3.    Genesis 4:4-5
4.    Midrash Hagadol cited in Torah Shlaima, p. 312, 44, Rashi
5.    Pesikta Zuta cited in Torah Shlaima, p. 312, 45
6.    Midrash Hagadol cited in Torah Shlaima, p. 312, 44
7.    Seforno
8.    Minchat Yitzchak, cited and explained in Torah Shlaima, p. 312, footnote to 42
9.    Beresheet Rabba, 22
10.    Seforno on Genesis 4:6
11.    Abarbanel
12.    Genesis 4:6
13.    Abarbanel, this is based on his interpretation of the ambiguous word “Se-et” שאת in Genesis 4:7, which can be translated as forgiven, but also as uplifted as this word is used in Genesis 49:3
14.    Midrash cited in Torah Shlaima, p. 304, footnote 7
15.    Pirkey Drabi Eliezer, cited in Torah Shlaima, p. 304
16.    Pirush Yonatan citing the Midrash
17.    Genesis 6
18.    Genesis 6:5
19.    Radak

Brush Turkey “Battle” “Blessed Violence?” & prejudice - Vzot Habracha

Brush Turkey happily
back on his mound

The battle to banish the
Brush Turkey

Apart from reminding ourselves that perpetrators of violence should not be taken to represent everyone from any cultural or religious community, it is useful to explore the nature of violence. Not to condone it, but to remind ourselves that it is something that is done by people of many faiths and walks of life rather than being the domain of the poor or the Aboriginal as seems to be suggested by one journalist 1 this week, or intrinsic to Edom as suggested in Midrash relating to our reading this week of Vzot Habracha. 2

Let us define violence broadly as doing something that causes distress to another creature. I engaged in “violence” this week against a perceived threat, a male Brush Turkey who decided to create a mount for himself in my backyard. I believed, falsely, that they are very territorial creatures who might harm my two year old daughter. I began my battle to get rid of it. I got on the internet to gather intelligence against my “enemy” and learned that these are determined creatures that will not go quietly. I spent two hours under the cover of darkness, reclaiming my land. I covered his mound with a sack and other stuff. I cleared excess leaves and watched him pace the next day, as our battle of wills played out.

I was wrong about the Brush Turkey. A knowledgeable friend persuaded me that my next planned step, putting down chicken wire would be very cruel. He told me that they are not territorial. They will come for a few months, lay eggs in the mound then go away. He also suggested that I was the colonizer as “they were here before us”. So I removed the impediments to the mound making. Now I am getting a lot of pleasure watching this amazing natural process play out as this energetic creature builds his mount by flicking leaves backwards, for hours on end.

As I reflect on my battle with my new friend. I notice how quickly people can be moved to perceive a threat and seek to eliminate it. The thinking can be focused on how to conquer the enemy instead of exploring how we might be able to coexist. Yet, unfortunately, not all conflicts are so easily resolvable. There are real enemies. These are not monsters. They are people that are essentially like me who are up against something they think threatens them or something precious to them.

This is one way for me to think about an implied message in the Torah reading this week that killing even family members is virtuous. Moses says of Levi. “The one who says of his father and mother, I did not see them, and his brother he did not recognise and his children he did not know”. 3 This is taken to mean that he was willing to kill his relatives who worshiped the Golden Calf, including his grandchildren. 4

I  Find this particularly disturbing in light of the following. In the final moments of Moses’ life, he blesses all but one of the Jewish tribes, 5 the one tribe that is left out in Simeon. This is the second time that all are blessed except for Simeon. Jacob’s deathbed blessings to almost all his sons instead contained a curse of Simeon’s and his Brother Levi’s anger because of their massacre of the inhabitants of the city of Shchem. However when Moses does his blessings, Levi is blessed while only Simeon misses out. One way of explaining this is that both brothers were like “borrowers” when they massacred the people of Shchem. However Simeon did not redeem himself, 6 Levi did redeem themselves in their conduct during the golden calf, which might be about the fact that they showed their loyalty by not worshiping the calf, but of course they also demonstrated their loyalty by the very disturbing killing in the previous paragraph.

To fight is not glorious although sometimes a decision is made that to fight is necessary to protect that which one cherishes. I recently attended a ceremony, alongside an Australian Sheikh of Turkish descent at Australia’s War Memorial. We heard about the personal sacrifices by young men who gave away most of their lives and about families who lost multiple members. Dr. Brendan Nelson, who spoke to our group, told us that the miserable business of war was ultimately about; love of country, about loyalty to “mates” and that our ability to live our lives in freedom is a result of their sacrifice. I was moved by the speaker. Yet, I am also aware of the temptation to minimize the brutal consequences of war on the “enemy”, the non-combatants caught in the cross fire, the psychologically damaged soldiers who suffer for years after the war in addition to “our soldier-martyrs” who lost their lives.
Violence is a complex business. We must continue to strive against it. It is a fight worth getting into, with compassion and determination.

Notes
1.    http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/news/opinion/miranda-devine-demonising-men-wont-stop-domestic-violence/story-fni0cwl5-1227545469411
2.    The verse states “God came from Sinai, and shined from Seir” (Deuteronomy 33:2), which is linked in Me’am Loez to a Midrashic story that God offered the Torah to various nations including Edom but was turned down. In the case of Edom, they refused to accept the Torah because of the prohibition of killing which the Midrash sees as being very much part of the nature of Edom.  Essentialising is one key element of prejudice which sees the person not as an individual human being to be taken as they are.
3.    Deuteronomy 33:9
4.    Rashi based on earlier sources, more specifically it is relates to them being willing to kill their grandfathers, half-brothers and grandchildren who worshiped the golden calf. Klei Yakar interprets this as a reference to the dedication to Torah study at the expense of family as the sage Rabba states in the Talmud (Eruvin 44) that Torah is found in one who is cruel to his children like a Raven and Rav Ada Bar Matna dismissed his wife’s concern when she asked him question “what will be with our young children?” as he was preparing to leave to study at the academy of Rav. He replied “there are plenty of greens in the meadow" Talmud Eruvin 22a, a variation of the theme of acting harshly to protect something, in this case one’s learning
5.    Deuteronomy 33:6-25
6.    Sifre 33:8, Ibn Ezra relates this to their idol worship and sinning with the daughters of Moab. The sin in this case was not that of Simeon alone, however it was predominantly members of this tribe that were implicated. This can be seen by the dramatic decline in the number of people of the tribe of Simeon in the census at the end of the book of numbers (26:14), 22,200 in comparison to the number of members of this tribe in the earlier census at the beginning of the book of numbers (1:23) 59,300.

God’s children - disowned? Political, social justice and religious perspectives - Haazinu

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I object to the idea of God completely rejecting people. If we accept the proposition that God Himself rejected a group utterly, then why should mere mortals restrain their own bigotry or oppression? I am committed to the principle of the intrinsic worth of every human. On Wednesday this week, I was dressed in a ritual white robe, fasting and praying to my “father in heaven” for atonement. I feel cleansed and have a warm peaceful feeling. Yet in Judaism there is an argument against my assumption of an unconditional parent-child relationship between God and me.

We have an ambiguous verse in this week’s reading of Haazinu. If translated literally it reads:  “Destroyed/Corrupted to him, no, his children, their blemish, [a] crooked and twisted generation”. 1 One way of reading the first part of this text is “Corrupted to Him [namely to God, have they, the Jews, who are] not [any more considered to be] His children, [and this lost status] is their blemish…” The idea is that the status of being God’s children can be lost due to disobedience”. 2

While I can see the advantages of not setting one group apart as God’s children, I am uncomfortable with the idea of any group being deemed “God’s disowned children”. One source for the notion of a conditional relationship is in the Talmud, 3 but it comes not from the great sages but out of the mouth of an evil person, the Roman Governor, poster-boy for what not to do in Inter-faith dialogue, Turnus-Rufus the wicked. 4 The Governor asserted in an argument with Rabbi Akiva about the merit of charity, that when the Jews do not do the will of God they are no longer called his children but rather his servants. 5 He argued that because God does not provide sustenance to poor Jews, other Jews should not interfere in God’s plan by giving them charity.

Rabbi Akiva did not argue the point, which some might take as him agreeing with it. 6 I suggest Rabbi Akiva was focused on the main game, which was the attempted justification of the Roman cruel oppression of the minority exiled Jews, rather than the word play in the theological argument. 7 Rabbi Akiva, ignored the arrogant and flawed 8 attempt by Turnus Rufus to determine Jewish theology and instead drew his attention to the prophet’s call, to bring the “oppressed poor into your home”. 9 There is a pointed reference to the cruelty of the oppressive Romans and a clever move that enabled him to recapture the moral high ground as he negotiated the position of his people.

However this argument goes back even earlier between sages of the Talmud themselves, 10 but I have seen it argued that this dispute was resolved with the proponent of conditional “child status”, conceding in the end to his opponent 11 that in fact even when the Israelites behave poorly, they are castigated as it is our reading of Haazinu as “Sons in whom there is no faith”, 12 or “foolish sons”.   13

I find the alternative interpretations to our text above about “His children” more plausible. It has been translated as “They have corrupted for themselves, their good deeds, His beloved children”. 14 Or, in another interpretation it is the ‘Jews themselves that have turned their back on the relationship with God rejecting their status as His children in their hearts’. 15 Yet, God insists in the very next verse that the Jews should recognise Him as their father, God asking rhetorically “Is he not your father?!” 16 On the day after Yom Kippur I feel a little closer to my Father in heaven, whose parenthood, at least from His perspective was never in question. I pray that all of God’s children, regardless of their beliefs or behaviour be shown His love and compassion, and are valued by their fellow humans unconditionally.

Notes

1.    Deuteronomy 32:5, שִׁחֵת לוֹ לֹּא בָּנָיו מוּמָם דּוֹר עִקֵּשׁ וּפְתַלְתֹּל
2.    Note that in Hebrew the same word “Lo- לא” is used both for no and not. This view is taken by highly respected classic commentators including Ramban, also known as Nachmanides, of the 13th century, Abarbanel 15th Century and more recent commentators: Ohr Hachayim 18th Century, Samson Raphael Hirsch 19th Century. The view of the most commonly studied and very authoritative Rashi from the 11th century is ambiguous. He states "they were his sons, but the corruption that they corrupted is their blemish”. One prominent supra-commentary, known as Mizrahi, emphasises the past tense in Rashi’s comment. “they were” [his children] meaning at the beginning, because it cannot be that they would be called His children after they have acted corruptly. This view seemed to be shared by Sifsei Chachomim, but it is disputed by Be’er Basadeh who asserts that Rashi sees the damage in the context of a non-negotiable parent child relationship, in which God is as protective of His children as one would be toward the apple of their eye but because of the sin God hides his face. Yet, he argues that the relationship is not confined to the past, prior to the sin as we can see from the way Rashi continues to refers to the Jews as God’s children in Rashi’s very next sentence. Sefer Hazikaron, agreed with Mizrahi that the relationship is conditional but also notes the evidence for a non-negotiable relationship cited by Be’er Basadeh, and states that he doesn’t understand it, and that further study is needed. 
3.    Talmud Bava Basra, 10a
4.    http://arachimusa.org/ArticleDetail.asp?ArticleID=1529
5.    Talmud Bava Basra, 10a
6.    This might explain the direct quote from Turnus Rufus turning up in Ohr Hachayim but being attributed to those whose “memory is a blessing”, in Ohr Hachayim’s commentary to Deuteronomy 32:5
7.    See Maharsha on Talmud Bava Basra, 10a, beginning with “this makes them liable for hell”.
8.    Torah Temimah on Deuteronomy 14:1, refutes the binary proposition put forward by Turnus Rufus that Jews can either be the children or God as they are referred in some verses, which he asserts apply when they do the will of God, and they are refered to as servants of Gods in other verses which would apply when they don’t do the will of God. In fact, Moses himself is called a servant of God as a form of high praise, rather than punishment. 
9.    Isaiah 58, read as the Yom Kippur Haftorah, translation follows Maharsha’s commentary
10.    Talmud Kidushin 36a
11.    Torah Temimah on Deuteronomy 14:1 asserts that this implied in the Sifre on Deuteronomy 32:5
12.    Deuteronomy 32:20
13.    Jeremiah 4
14.    This is a composite of the translations by the classic translators, Unkelus (1st Century) and Yonatan Ben Uziel (One of the Tanaaim of the Talmud, possibly ever earlier than Unkelus), Rashbam (12th century) follows a similar approach, the cantillation marks for the words suggest a pause between the words “no/not” and “his sons” with the word Lo, marked by a Tipcha. Malbim (19th Century) takes the commentary into a completely different direction, which also does not follow the approach of God disowning His children.
15.    Ibn Ezra on Deuteronomy 32:5 and 6
16.    Deuteronomy 32:6