Last night someone showed me the latest US News and World Report -- lo and behold, a special edition dedicated to the latest in Bible scholarship. (This one, says the cover, will be on the stands until January.) Today someone else told me about the cover story in a recent Ebony magazine about new spiritual trends in Black churches. As I'm writing this column, I keep taking breaks to dip into an article in this week's New Yorker about French policy struggles regarding Muslim girls wearing veils in school. With all this topical religion coming my way, I can't help thinking, well, it's sure clear what subject will sell media these days. Religion is on the American mind, especially religion as it interfaces with politics and civil life.
It's the middle of November as I write, not quite two weeks since the big election. Post-mortem analysis continues to fill my in-box and my conversational life. As I ruminate on the current political climate, especially all the religious talk in the new climate, I often find my thoughts going back to a talk I heard a year and a half ago, in another context entirely, by the philosopher Avi Ravitsky. (Ravitsky is a professor at Hebrew University and the author of a number of books. He is a recipient of the Israel Prize, which, I believe, is the highest literary prize in Israel.) His talk was so powerful and so useful -- and is so relevant to today's and this country's concerns -- that I have taken out my notes and would like to recount many of his points in some detail. (I also just read a fascinating piece about plagiarism -- so please be aware that the following thoughts are Avi Ravitsky's, not mine!) I hope that you will find, if I can articulate his teaching clearly, that the frame he offers will be helpful as you continue to absorb and consider our present world.
He began his talk by telling of attending a peace demonstration some years earlier. He described the ardent singing and swaying that went on there and said, "This was as close to a religious experience as a secular person can have." Still, a peace march is usually considered a secular event. By contrast, he spoke of Yitzhak Rabin's murderer, who was described by all as a religious Jew. "If he were to eat a ham sandwich on Yom Kippur, people would say he was a liar pretending to be religious. But he can murder and still be considered religious." What then, asks Ravitsky, is the role of religion with regard to peace and reconciliation?
In many cases, he says, religion sharpens and "absolutizes" conflict. When a conflict is essentially political, such as many conflicts between states, it is subject to compromise. Compromise is, in fact, the nature of politics. When a conflict is between ethnic groups, compromise can be more difficult because of differences in the historical narratives that each brings to the table. When a conflict is between two monotheistic, exclusivist religions (or, I would add, between one monotheistic religion and any other party,) compromise is almost impossible. He listed various world conflicts fueled by religion: in Ireland, Pakistan, the Sudan, East Timor. He called the then-impending war with Iraq "a crusade." He spoke of radical religious "enemies of peace on both sides" absolutizing and "religicizing" political conflicts.
However, he says, there are really two possible ways to understand monotheism. The first (and prevalent) perspective says: Since God is One and absolute, and since I am supposed to imitate God, everything I do is significant, one, total and absolute. I represent God in the world. There must be no compromises, for any concession compromises God's will. Everything contingent or fragmented (i.e. historical and political) is a betrayal. The opponent at the bargaining table, asking for me to give up any piece of my total and unified commitment in return for a piece of his or hers, is the enemy of God.
But there is another possible monotheism, which says instead, "Only God is total, and I am not God. Everything I can understand and do in the world is partial and fragmented, for by definition I cannot have the whole truth. As long as we dwell in history, things cannot be absolute. Since I am fragmented and you are too, there is a place for us both." There is an option for the relativization of every conflict.
The first option he calls "modern," the second "postmodern."
In traditional Judaism, he says, peace was seen as a prophetic matter, an ultimate, God-given conclusion, not a process or a product of negotiation -- "swords beaten into plowshares." Ravitsky says that the biblical vision of peace applied to world conflicts today is in fact the enemy of a practical, negotiated peace. "If I were to invite Isaiah and Micah to look at peace after Camp David, they would be frustrated."
He finished by calling for "the education of [our] inner sensitivity to accept conflict in values." Religious people who want peace and reconciliation have to "educate [themselves] to retreat in front of God, to give up a lot of [their] sovereignty as human beings." He said that, "If we believe that God is filling our hearts, it is only natural to want to expand in front of other human beings. But instead, "We must maintain ourselves as limited and finite until the End of Days."
Ravitsky shared many wonderful texts and examples that supported and elaborated his points. But here I would like to re-enter the page and suggest some ways that his analysis might play here at home.
If you believe (or if, as many people who in fact believe often say instead, you "know") that God breathes a human soul into a zygote at conception, and if you believe (or "know") that God forbids destroying any human soul, then it would make sense to absolutely oppose abortion in every instance. (This still doesn't explain to me why some people who oppose abortion in every instance don't seem to speak of difficulty with killing living, breathing human beings by means of war, starvation, deprivation of medical care or by the proliferation of guns -- but stay with me for a minutes)
That bumper sticker I saw once: "Against abortion? Don't have one!" wouldn't wash if you are a type-A monotheist. But one can imagine another type of monotheist who might say something like this: "I believe that life is a gift from God. I am aware, too, that the world's religions, legal systems and cultures have been struggling throughout history to define when it is permissible to end a life. I know that there is a lot of question about the spiritual status of an embryo. It is my considered best option in this case to do X,Y or Z. But I can understand another thoughtful person coming to another, even an opposite, conclusion. While I need to be free to exercise my considered option, I will not restrict another person from exercising his or hers."
But I'm arguing with myself and with Professor Ravitsky even as I write this. For I too have strongly-held religious convictions that I think should apply to all. For example, I believe passionately that it is perfectly right and acceptable in every setting anywhere to be gay or lesbian. Am I willing to "give up a lot of my sovereignty as a human being" and say that there should be space set aside in the public sphere for other people's homophobia? Is same-sex marriage (which is, for me, a subset of same-sex equality in every facet of community life) then really a matter for states' rights, meaning that I am willing to rest with eleven states banning it in this past election?
I think that I actually am answering myself with a guarded "yes" -- with the same inner agony and outrage as would the thoughtful opponent of abortion speaking of Roe v. Wade. Avi Ravitsky says that, "We must maintain ourselves as limited and finite until the end of days." That doesn't mean that I shouldn't speak my piece, advocate for the ways I think the world should be, use the political process to advance my values. But somewhere within I need to understand that my understanding is ultimately partial, that other reasonable, reflective, moral people may come to conclusions which are abhorrent to me. Somehow I have to be able to hold both the strength of my conviction and the consciousness of my imperfect grasp on ultimate reality. A difficult stance to even put into words, much less into action. No wonder it is so rare!
We must "educate ourselves to accept conflict in values." When I pray Aleinu and visualize the World to Come, I am free to imagine it exactly as I think it should be. In my World to Come let's say there would be a gay President (and his First Man!), free acupuncture for all, good English tea in the drinking fountains, and kids don't have to do homework. In someone else's World to Come there might be "Father Knows Best," standardized testing in kindergarten and children speaking when spoken to. But in This World I have to accept that I and my moral positions are finite and limited, which means compromise, disappointment, the partial and the fragmented. It means that, when decisions are mine to make I am morally required to make space for opposing points of view and ways of life. Yuck, but morally necessary.
I am starting to think that something like Ravitsky's two monotheisms, more than any specific content (like what you think about same-sex marriage or abortion,) really defines the split in morals in this country. It's not just about people drawing different moral conclusions -- it is about how radically people are willing to impose their conclusions on others who disagree.
Let me call to your mind a page, any page, of Talmud. A question is posed. Rabbi A says one thing. Rabbi B disagrees (sometimes vigorously!) Rabbi C says "You're all crazy -- it's like this!" And on it goes, without conclusion. All positions are represented on the page, none in bigger or bolder print than the others. Decisions are made, often by the weight of a majority. But the minority opinion is always preserved and often quoted. I think I could live with a country and a world that look a little bit like that!
MORAL VALUES, JEWISH VALUES, SOCIAL VALUES CONVERSATION
Given that we are hearing so much these days about religious and civic values, what are your moral values? What values do you see springing from Judaism? How have your values changed or stayed the same over your lifetime? How do you want to see your values reflected in the political world? What do you think the Jewish contribution to the public focus on morals should be? All are invited to an evening of open-ended conversation about values, Thursday, December 16, 2004, 7:00 PM at the shul. This "Conversation Café" will be facilitated by Myra Beals, who has been exploring ways to hold meaningful public conversations about important topics and has been hosting Conversation Cafes in Fort Bragg this past year.
© 2004 Rabbi Margaret Holub
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Updated 11/30/2004 (rge)