Rosh Hashanah II - 5776
A Legacy of Civility
By Rabbi Jeff Pivo
This summer I spent a great deal of time reading, hearing and talking about Israel. I don’t
recall another time when Jews around the world were so fully engaged, or so deeply divided,
over any issue as they were over the past several months. I tried to think of an historical analogy,
some similar circumstance in which the entire Jewish community seems set against itself. I had
to go back two thousand years.
There are two ways to tell this story. One is through an historical lens: A Jewish rebellion
against the Roman Empire, which controlled ancient Judea and much of the western world at that
time. For three years, rebels waged war against impossible odds and when the Romans,
inevitably, crushed the revolt, they also, inevitably, destroyed the institutions and symbols of that
revolt. In addition to killing many people, the Romans destroyed Jerusalem, banned Jews from
living there, and razed the Temple the ground. That is history; we can document it. But that
version of the story is not the way that the early rabbis understood what had happened. In the
aftermath of the war, they sought a theological explanation for the destruction of the Temple,
God’s own abode on earth. They looked back to the behavior of the Jews themselves, and saw a
link between how the various political and religious parties – the Sadducees, Pharisees, Essenes
and Zealots – had so virulently disagreed, and God’s willingness to allow the destruction of the
Temple. They saw Jews behaving toward other Jews with accusation, insult and enmity, what is
known in Hebrew as sinat hinam, causeless hatred, as the cause of the Temple’s fall.
As the rabbinic view became the accepted Jewish view, the early rabbis went out of their
way to ensure that disagreement within the Jewish community be understood in an entirely new
way. They staked a claim on truth: that it is provisional, that when a disagreement begins we
don’t know what the truth is, and so all claims exists as potential truths. It is only through reason,
through persuasion and through proof that real truth would be established. Truth would be
arrived at through consensus, through votes of the majority. Further, the minority view would not
be written out of rabbinic history, but would be faithfully preserved, as evidence of the
minority’s point of view and reasons for its thinking. Rather than claim that rejected views were
wrong, the rabbis viewed them as having insufficient proof to make their case. They also knew
that today’s minority may be tomorrow’s majority, and they wanted to preserve the sacred
process of principled argument. A favorite rabbinic tale about Rabbi Yohanan and his brother-inlaw, Reish Lakish, illustrates these values. The two argued over most points of Jewish law,
disagreeing about any number of cases. After Reish Lakish died, Rabbi Yohanan was left
without a partner to argue the law. His student came to him with the praise ‘I have a hundred
proofs for everything you say!’ to which Rabbi Yohanan responded with tears, saying ‘Where is
Reish Lakish? Where is a good friend to tell me I am wrong?’ The rabbis’ insistence on
remembering the destruction of the Temple in daily prayer is, on one level, a wish to return to an
idealized past. But in another way it is a warning to us: Remember what caused an end to that
ideal: Sinat hinam, Jews causelessly hating other Jews, instead of treating them as beloved
partners in argument, telling us when we are wrong.
Over the past several months I have heard a great deal of sinat hinam. Jews once again
have used the language of insult, accusation and enmity against one another. My worry for Israel
is not its possible destruction from an outside enemy. Israel is too powerful, and smart, and has
enough strong support from America and other allies to prevent that from happening. I worry
more about the internal rift that will tear Jew from Jew and undermine our shared concern for the
Jewish state. The kind of destruction that ended even the weak Jewish sovereignty over Israel
two thousand years ago once again threatens the well-being of the Jewish people and homeland.
It is time to talk. It is time to disagree the way the rabbis have taught us that Jews
disagree: With seriousness of purpose, with civility, with a true desire to understand an
opponent’s point of view, both out of respect for their intelligence and in order to sharpen our
arguments. Members of our Israel committee are with us today, and I now charge them with
finding a way for our members, and the community at large, to engage in thoughtful
conversation about the issues so that we can avoid further sinat hinam and begin a process of
healing. I am not suggesting having debates, but rather well-informed conversation, moderated
by rabbis and featuring experts in the field, so that we can understand each other better and, in
time, go forward with a common commitment to Israel’s safety. We have to find a way back to
respectful discourse, to seeing each other’s words as potential truth until we agree on the ultimate
truth. I hope that you will all take part in that discussion.
G’mar hatimah tovah; may you be sealed in the Book of Life.