Dvar Torah on Parshat Kedoshim

Pluralism is a much-discussed and debated concept, in the Jewish world and beyond. As you know, there are a number of ways to understand what pluralism means and how it works. Pluralism can be understood as ranging from tolerance - these guys are wrong, we are right, but we will allow them to live among us and not be too nasty to them - to a real acceptance and even encouragement of the equal validity of different world-views and belief systems. In this week's parsha, Kedoshim, there is a verse that triggers a discussion among the Rabbis of the Talmud about some of these issues.

The verse goes like this: "Do not hate your brother in your heart; rebuke, you shall surely rebuke your brother, and do not bear a sin because of him." Some of the commentaries read this verse as a single narrative: If you feel that someone has wronged you in some way, don't hold in your feelings ("Do not hate your brother in your heart"). Rather, tell him how you feel ("rebuke, you shall surely rebuke your brother"), because if you don't, you will, as a result of your unresolved hatred for him or her, ultimately sin in some way ("and do not bear a sin because of him"). In this pshat (reading), the Torah is teaching us about the need for openness and honesty in human relationships: don't bear a grudge, don't hold in a hurt or an anger. Tell the person you are angry at how you feel - discuss it, work it out. Others look at the middle section of this verse - "rebuke, you shall surely rebuke your brother" - atomistically, as a separate commandment. They read it as referring to any sin which any Jew commits, rather than some private wrong that one individual has done to another, and they understand it as a commandment to all Jews to not stand idly by and let a sinner go on sinning, but, rather, to call him or her on it, to rebuke the sinner, and make him stop. This reading, at first glance, certainly sounds like a classically, almost stereotypically, Orthodox way of dealing with people who don't behave like you. There are sins, there is good and evil, right and wrong, and we know the difference, and it is our duty to police all Jews, all the time, and make sure they do the right thing. Obviously, this is not recipe for a pluralistic society. However, the Rabbis of the Talmud look at this dynamic of rebuking the sinner somewhat differently.

In Tractate Yevamot, page 65b, Rabbi Ila'a says in the name of Rabbi Elazar the son of Rabbi Shimon: "Just as it is a Mitzvah for a person to say something that will be listened to, so, too, it is a Mitzvah to not say that which will not be listened to." Rabbi Ila'a thinks that while it is certainly a Mitzvah to rebuke the sinner, as we learn from the verse we are discussing, it is equally a Mitzvah to not do so if one assesses that his words will fall on deaf ears, and will not be effective. According to Rabbi Ila'a, if we have good reason to believe that the sinner will not listen, we should not rebuke him or her. The Talmud then goes on: "Rabbi Abba says it is a chova [an obligation]! For it is written (Proverbs, 9), "Do not rebuke a fool, lest he hate you; rebuke the wise one, and he will love you." Rabbi Abba sees this verse as amplifying and perhaps explaining Rabbi Ila'a's statement, by actually forbidding us ("Do not rebuke") to tell off the "fool" - the sinner whom we believe will not pay attention anyway. Rabbi Abba has added the element of prohibition - it is wrong to try and tell someone what to do, if he will probably not listen. He also, with this verse from Proverbs, explains what exactly is wrong about it: we want to avoid the "hate" that the sinner will feel towards the rebuker. In other words, another value - preventing hatred - trumps the value of rebuking the sinner. This is presented in a way which clearly looks down on the "sinner", even using the word "fool" to describe him. But, although we retain a value system which denigrates the sinner, his actions, and his intellect, we are anxious to retain a good relationship with him; we do not want to foster hatred. A kind of pluralism, perhaps?

Rabbi Ila'a is now brought back into the conversation and takes it even further: "And Rabbi Ila'a says in the name of Rabbi Elazar the son of Shimon: a person is permitted to lie for the purpose of peace, as it is written (Genesis 50): 'Your father [Yaakov] commanded before his death to say the following to Yosef: please forgive the sin of your brothers'". The verse that Rabbi Ila'a brings to prove his point about lying for the sake of peace tells us how Yosef's brothers lied to him. Just after his death, Yaakov's sons were worried that Yosef would take this opportunity to punish them for their having, years earlier, sold him into slavery. They therefore, in order to smooth things over with him, to pacify him, made up this story about Yaakov asking for Yosef's forgiveness. This case, in which Yosef's brothers lie to him about their late father's instructions, in order to maintain peaceful relations, is seen by Rabbi Ila'a as a model for us to emulate. Placed as it is, in the context of rebuking - or, rather, as the Rabbis have understood it, not rebuking - the sinner, it takes our understanding of pluralism to a new level. If at first we were talking about the obligation to remain silent and not tell off a "sinner" who is a "fool", in order to avoid his hateful reaction to being told what to do, we are now being told to actually tell a lie "for the purpose of peace". We are no longer simply talking about not engaging with someone who just doesn't get it; we are now being told to lie in order to maintain good relations with others. And in this case, the others are not "fools" or "sinners" - it is Yosef, the viceroy of Egypt who is being lied to, and not because he is foolish or sinning, but because we want to maintain peaceful relations with him.

Next up is Rabbi Natan, who says: "It is in fact a Mitzvah [to lie for the purpose of making peace; you aren't only allowed to lie, it is actually a Mitzvah to do so, for the sake of Shalom], as it is written (Samuel I, 16): [God tells Samuel that he is sick of King Saul, and He wants Samuel to go and anoint David as king instead. Samuel says to Him:] "How can I go? For Saul will hear about it and kill me". To which God says: "Take a calf in your hands and say that you are going to offer it to God". [i.e., lie to Saul, in order to get away from him and go anoint David.]" Rabbi Natan is pointing out that God is commanding Samuel to lie, for the sake of smoothing things over and avoiding bloodshed. And if God told him to do that, it becomes a Mitzvah for us all to do so - to lie to others in order to avoid conflict. Our section of the Talmud now concludes with the following statement: "It was taught in the house of Rabbi Ishmael: Great is peace, for even the Holy One, Blessed be He, lied for its sake. For first it says (Genesis, 18) [that Sarah said, about her husband Abraham's inability to have children], 'and my husband is old', and later, when God repeated to Abraham what she said, he changed her words, and reported them as being 'and I [Sarah] am old'. In order to not insult Abraham, and keep the peace between him and Sarah, God lied, and reported that she called herself the old, infertile one, and not him. In this final statement, God has progressed from telling Samuel to lie so as to not get into a fight with King Saul, to lying Himself to Abraham about what Sarah said about him, all for the sake of peace.

So, we see that by the time this section of the Talmud has finished, we have almost totally trumped the notion of rebuking, and even of simply saying what we believe to be true, for the sake of peace. The desire to prevent hatred, which was presented by Rabbi Abba as dictating that we must keep silent and not rebuke the foolish sinner, has evolved into the positive value of peace, a value for the sake of which God Himself is willing to lie to Abraham. This, then, can be seen as a Rabbinic understanding of pluralism. While the Torah demands a non-pluralistic approach to issues of right and wrong ("rebuke, you shall surely rebuke"), the Rabbis turn this approach on its head, so that we are forbidden to stand up for what we believe is right, we are forbidden to tell the "truth", if doing so will create interpersonal or communal discord. We are commanded to lie about what we know to be true, for the sake of peace. The Rabbis apply this sensibility equally, to everyone; "foolish" sinners and non-sinners; people like King Saul, Yosef, and Abraham. In all these cases, the Rabbis place the pursuit of peace at the center of our concerns.

Obviously, there is plenty of other Rabbinic material which discusses these issues. This particular lesson in pluralism, which you may like a lot, a little, or not at all, is one that I actually feel very good about, as it allows us, on the one hand, to retain our own beliefs and values - to know what we know - while forbidding us to fight about them. The Rabbis are teaching us that we are commanded to value peace over what we, in our hearts and minds, know to be right and true. In our interactions with those with whom we disagree, or with whom we have issues, we must at times suppress what we believe to be right and true, for the sake of peace.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Shimon Felix