Post by Rabbi Neil on Nov 10, 2017 21:18:33 GMT
I was chairing the ILA meeting a couple of months ago and we were discussing whether or not to adopt the Charter for Compassion. I compared it to The Earth Charter, which in my opinion is a far more comprehensive charter and helpful guide for organizations. Nonetheless, The Charter for Compassion is still an excellent document, talking about the need to “tirelessly alleviate the suffering of our fellow creatures,” or dethroning “ourselves from the centre of our world” and of honouring “the inviolable sanctity of every single human being” by “treating everybody, without exception, with absolute justice, equity and respect.” It is very anthropocentric – very focused on a covenant of decency between all people alive today, whereas the Earth Charter talks of our responsibility towards the rest of creation as well as toward future generations. Nonetheless, more compassion between people is certainly needed right now, so the Charter for Compassion could help with that.
But there’s a line in the Charter that challenges me. It says “To act or speak violently out of spite, chauvinism, or self-interest, to impoverish, exploit or deny basic rights to anybody, and to incite hatred by denigrating others – even our enemies – is a denial of our common humanity.” The part of that sentence that challenges me is the word “enemy.” I shared with the ILA that I didn’t feel that I have “enemies.” I, of course, have people with whom I totally disagree, certainly earlier in my life there were people who set out to deliberately make my life a living hell for years, but I never used the word enemy with them. I saw myself in conflict with them but I understood their actions as a desperate and pathetic struggle for power in their lives where they had none. Maybe they were my enemies, but I never used that term with them. Now I’m living in Santa Fe, I really don’t feel like I have enemies. So, I shared this at the meeting, and said that that language made me uncomfortable because I felt it separated us from other people. One of my colleagues became very upset, and said that I could only say that from a position of white, straight, male privilege. In the days that followed, we spoke more about this core question, do we have enemies?
She said that there are many groups of people in the world who have enemies – African-Americans, Indigenous people, and other minorities, including Jews and Muslims. “Your enemies are my enemies,” she wrote to me. This one really challenged me. Is a neo-Nazi an enemy of mine? Have I been a sheltered liberal in having thought that they’re not? The dictionary definition of enemy is “a person who is actively opposed or hostile to someone or something.” I had tended to see it more as the secondary definition – as “a hostile nation or its armed forces or citizens, especially in a time of war.” Merriam-Webster defines an enemy as “one that is antagonistic to another, especially one seeking to injure, overthrow or confound an opponent.” Why does that make me so uncomfortable? I think it’s because that would mean I have countless enemies. It would mean the world is full of my enemies. I’m not sure I can mentally handle that.
My colleague continued, “"Enemy"” she said, “is a valid category for understanding certain people in our lives. If we deny that category we put ourselves and others at risk.”” I don’t deny that there are people who oppose me, my work and my community. I’ve been pushing for increased security in our community precisely because I’m aware that there are people who wish to do us harm. Are they our enemies?
In many places online, you can find references to enemies in Tanakh. For example, one site shared the Book of Proverbs (25:21) saying “If your enemies are hungry, give them bread to eat; if they are thirsty, give them water to drink.” It added from Exodus (23:4) that “when you come upon your enemy’s ox or donkey going astray, you shall bring it back.” It’s actually not that easy, though. The Hebrew for an enemy is oyev. These quotations don’t use that word, they instead use sona’acha, the one who hates you. These are not the same thing. If they were, the same word would be used.
So, the people who would oppress us, who would harm us or who would harm those whom we love, are they sona’acha or are they oyev? Are they people who hate us, or are they truly enemies? The Hebrew eivah, enmity, which shares the same root as oyev, appears right at the beginning of Torah, when God puts eivah between the serpent and humanity, saying “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers, they shall strike at your head, and you shall strike at their heel.” (Gen. 3:15). This personal hostility has violent intent. But Torah here is very helpful because it demonstrates that eivah, enmity, using this root letter, is two-way. It’s a shared state of being between two people. Sona’acha, the one who hates you, is one way. Oyev, enemy, is two-way.
My colleague says that other people’s enemies are her enemies. The enemy of my friend is my enemy. She gave examples of domestic abuse and how a husband who perpetrates such acts is the enemy of the wife, and that she is the enemy of anyone who does that. The person who threatens the lives of medical practitioners in reproductive health, that person, she says, is her enemy. The word “enemy” in English comes from the Latin inimicus, meaning “not friend.” So, I can understand someone using the English word to say that the enemy of my friend is my enemy. That makes total sense.
Biblically, though, and I guess I think more Biblically than I realised, an enemy is someone with whom you have an extremely negative relationship. If one person hates another but that hatred isn’t reciprocated, then they’re not oyvim, enemies. One is soneh - the hater - and the other isn’t. Looking back at the most difficult times in my early career, this is how it was. I didn’t hate the people who wished me harm. I pitied them. I hated the things they did to me, but I pitied them for their need for power games. In English, based on Latin, they would be my enemy, but in Jewish thought they weren’t. They were just people who hated me.
So, now I understand why my colleague and I had such differing feelings about the word “enemy” because we come from different mindsets - the Greek and the Hebrew. We both want the same thing – a reduction in violence, physical, verbal and emotional – towards other people. We both want everyone to live in respect with each other. We both have people who hate us. We both have people who wish us and our loved ones harm. We both intend to do everything in our power to ensure that their desires do not come to fruition. But I don’t see such people – as twisted and as potentially damaging as they may be, as my enemy. Not yet, anyway, and hopefully not ever. Yes, there are innumerable bigots, racists, perverts, xenophobes, bullies and more around the world, often in positions of power. But they’re not my enemies. And I appreciate that I am lucky in those regards. And that is why I can authentically pray the prayer on p.42, Hashkiveinu, which says, “v’haseir mei’aleinu oyev, dever, v’cherev v’ra’av v’yagon” – “Defend us against enemies, illness, war, famine and sorrow.” In other words, keep those things away from us that we never have to experience them. It doesn’t mean that these are constant threats or a constant presence in our lives. The enemy, illness, war, famine and sorrow are things we don’t currently have in our lives – hopefully – and hope to never have in our lives.
The enemy of my friend isn’t my enemy. It’s their enemy. It’s their relationship. That doesn’t mean that I stand idly by while that person attacks my friend – of course not… Torah (Leviticus 19:16) is extremely clear on that. That doesn’t mean that I don’t protect the rights of the poor, the oppressed and the widow (Isaiah 58). Of course I must! Of course we all must! But in Jewish thought, we can oppose people’s words and actions without them becoming our enemy. In fact, I think that calling someone your enemy specifically either sets up or reinforces a relationship of antagonism. How did the group of people who hated me years ago end up losing? Because I specifically didn’t make them my enemy. I didn’t get dragged down into the mire where they wanted a fight. I almost did, but I resisted, and that is what defeated them.
So, may God protect us from having enemies while giving us the strength to oppose those who oppress others. May God keep us from conflict in our lives while simultaneously inspiring us to defend those in need. And may we all learn how to create a society of love and respect. And let us say, Amen.
But there’s a line in the Charter that challenges me. It says “To act or speak violently out of spite, chauvinism, or self-interest, to impoverish, exploit or deny basic rights to anybody, and to incite hatred by denigrating others – even our enemies – is a denial of our common humanity.” The part of that sentence that challenges me is the word “enemy.” I shared with the ILA that I didn’t feel that I have “enemies.” I, of course, have people with whom I totally disagree, certainly earlier in my life there were people who set out to deliberately make my life a living hell for years, but I never used the word enemy with them. I saw myself in conflict with them but I understood their actions as a desperate and pathetic struggle for power in their lives where they had none. Maybe they were my enemies, but I never used that term with them. Now I’m living in Santa Fe, I really don’t feel like I have enemies. So, I shared this at the meeting, and said that that language made me uncomfortable because I felt it separated us from other people. One of my colleagues became very upset, and said that I could only say that from a position of white, straight, male privilege. In the days that followed, we spoke more about this core question, do we have enemies?
She said that there are many groups of people in the world who have enemies – African-Americans, Indigenous people, and other minorities, including Jews and Muslims. “Your enemies are my enemies,” she wrote to me. This one really challenged me. Is a neo-Nazi an enemy of mine? Have I been a sheltered liberal in having thought that they’re not? The dictionary definition of enemy is “a person who is actively opposed or hostile to someone or something.” I had tended to see it more as the secondary definition – as “a hostile nation or its armed forces or citizens, especially in a time of war.” Merriam-Webster defines an enemy as “one that is antagonistic to another, especially one seeking to injure, overthrow or confound an opponent.” Why does that make me so uncomfortable? I think it’s because that would mean I have countless enemies. It would mean the world is full of my enemies. I’m not sure I can mentally handle that.
My colleague continued, “"Enemy"” she said, “is a valid category for understanding certain people in our lives. If we deny that category we put ourselves and others at risk.”” I don’t deny that there are people who oppose me, my work and my community. I’ve been pushing for increased security in our community precisely because I’m aware that there are people who wish to do us harm. Are they our enemies?
In many places online, you can find references to enemies in Tanakh. For example, one site shared the Book of Proverbs (25:21) saying “If your enemies are hungry, give them bread to eat; if they are thirsty, give them water to drink.” It added from Exodus (23:4) that “when you come upon your enemy’s ox or donkey going astray, you shall bring it back.” It’s actually not that easy, though. The Hebrew for an enemy is oyev. These quotations don’t use that word, they instead use sona’acha, the one who hates you. These are not the same thing. If they were, the same word would be used.
So, the people who would oppress us, who would harm us or who would harm those whom we love, are they sona’acha or are they oyev? Are they people who hate us, or are they truly enemies? The Hebrew eivah, enmity, which shares the same root as oyev, appears right at the beginning of Torah, when God puts eivah between the serpent and humanity, saying “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers, they shall strike at your head, and you shall strike at their heel.” (Gen. 3:15). This personal hostility has violent intent. But Torah here is very helpful because it demonstrates that eivah, enmity, using this root letter, is two-way. It’s a shared state of being between two people. Sona’acha, the one who hates you, is one way. Oyev, enemy, is two-way.
My colleague says that other people’s enemies are her enemies. The enemy of my friend is my enemy. She gave examples of domestic abuse and how a husband who perpetrates such acts is the enemy of the wife, and that she is the enemy of anyone who does that. The person who threatens the lives of medical practitioners in reproductive health, that person, she says, is her enemy. The word “enemy” in English comes from the Latin inimicus, meaning “not friend.” So, I can understand someone using the English word to say that the enemy of my friend is my enemy. That makes total sense.
Biblically, though, and I guess I think more Biblically than I realised, an enemy is someone with whom you have an extremely negative relationship. If one person hates another but that hatred isn’t reciprocated, then they’re not oyvim, enemies. One is soneh - the hater - and the other isn’t. Looking back at the most difficult times in my early career, this is how it was. I didn’t hate the people who wished me harm. I pitied them. I hated the things they did to me, but I pitied them for their need for power games. In English, based on Latin, they would be my enemy, but in Jewish thought they weren’t. They were just people who hated me.
So, now I understand why my colleague and I had such differing feelings about the word “enemy” because we come from different mindsets - the Greek and the Hebrew. We both want the same thing – a reduction in violence, physical, verbal and emotional – towards other people. We both want everyone to live in respect with each other. We both have people who hate us. We both have people who wish us and our loved ones harm. We both intend to do everything in our power to ensure that their desires do not come to fruition. But I don’t see such people – as twisted and as potentially damaging as they may be, as my enemy. Not yet, anyway, and hopefully not ever. Yes, there are innumerable bigots, racists, perverts, xenophobes, bullies and more around the world, often in positions of power. But they’re not my enemies. And I appreciate that I am lucky in those regards. And that is why I can authentically pray the prayer on p.42, Hashkiveinu, which says, “v’haseir mei’aleinu oyev, dever, v’cherev v’ra’av v’yagon” – “Defend us against enemies, illness, war, famine and sorrow.” In other words, keep those things away from us that we never have to experience them. It doesn’t mean that these are constant threats or a constant presence in our lives. The enemy, illness, war, famine and sorrow are things we don’t currently have in our lives – hopefully – and hope to never have in our lives.
The enemy of my friend isn’t my enemy. It’s their enemy. It’s their relationship. That doesn’t mean that I stand idly by while that person attacks my friend – of course not… Torah (Leviticus 19:16) is extremely clear on that. That doesn’t mean that I don’t protect the rights of the poor, the oppressed and the widow (Isaiah 58). Of course I must! Of course we all must! But in Jewish thought, we can oppose people’s words and actions without them becoming our enemy. In fact, I think that calling someone your enemy specifically either sets up or reinforces a relationship of antagonism. How did the group of people who hated me years ago end up losing? Because I specifically didn’t make them my enemy. I didn’t get dragged down into the mire where they wanted a fight. I almost did, but I resisted, and that is what defeated them.
So, may God protect us from having enemies while giving us the strength to oppose those who oppress others. May God keep us from conflict in our lives while simultaneously inspiring us to defend those in need. And may we all learn how to create a society of love and respect. And let us say, Amen.