There was a time when differences of opinion between us became so heated that God stepped in.
In one of the most famous disputes chronicled in the Talmud, the houses of Hillel and Shammai, two great schools of Jewish learning, debated an issue of Jewish law for three years. Perhaps fearing an irrevocable schism, a divine voice intervened from the heavens and said: “These and these are the words of the living God….”
In other words, conflicting ideas — “these and these” — can both have legitimacy.
The Talmudic account doesn’t end there. The divine voice goes on to pronounce that while there is legitimacy to both views, the law should follow the house of Hillel. Why? Because his teachings were kinder and more tolerant. Indeed, out of respect, the students of Hillel were known to teach Shammai’s point of view before their own.
We may not hear the divine voice of heaven arbitrating disputes today, but the concept of “these and these” and the value of respecting viewpoints different than our own are more relevant than ever.
Particularly this week.
Many in our community are jubilant over the opening of the U.S. embassy in Jerusalem — a long-awaited recognition of what has been the eternal capital of the Jewish people since before the time of Hillel and Shammai. Many others are more conflicted, if not outright opposed, concerned about the timing, or the impact of the move on the peace process and viability of a two-state solution. Some can’t even bring themselves to talk about it. Ask and they’ll tell you the big news out of Israel this week was Netta Barzilai, an Israeli, winning the famed Eurovision contest.
Then there is the loss of life in Gaza. As one person said to me, encapsulating her own internal conflict (and recognizing there are many other views), “I can’t abide those who blame Israel for what’s taken place in Gaza, and wholeheartedly defend Israel’s right to protect its borders. Yet, I find myself despairing over the number of lives lost, the bleak existence in Gaza, and wishing this wasn’t happening. How could I not?”
These and these.
This Saturday evening, we begin the celebration of Shavuot, commemorating the Israelites receiving the Torah — the words and values that have guided us since Sinai — and our coming together as a people. There’s a tradition to stay up all night and study Torah in what is called Tikkun Leil Shavuot. It’s an opportunity to go back to the source that grounds and inspires us.
The Marlene Meyerson JCC Manhattan, a UJA partner, hosts an annual Tikkun Leil Shavuot that has something for everyone — thinkers and rabbis from across the spectrum who are there to offer multiple perspectives and a way to glean new understanding from our ancient texts, with a few 21st century twists. The sessions reflect the vast diversity of our Jewish people. Some examples:
Sinai in Manhattan: Can We Hear the Sound of Revelation Now, in the Big Apple?
Wonder Women of the Talmud
Prospects For Peace and the Two-State Solution
True Love as the Love of Truth: A Psychoanalytic Reading of Talmudic Stories
Lo Alecha Hamlacha Ligmor: I Don’t Have to Solve It All, but How Do I Even Begin?
There’s also a wonderful and very diverse Tikkun being hosted by Downtown Jewish Life and the 14th Street Y, another UJA partner. I hope you’ll consider coming by one of them, or attending a program in your own community. Immerse yourself in study, find new interpretations, and challenge yourselves to hear even those narratives that conflict with your own.
At least for one night, debate like Hillel and Shammai.
Shabbat shalom and chag sameach