Ensuring Peace by Preparing for War
A Drash for Friday, 30 November
During the years when I served as a military chaplain in the US Air
Force, I kept more than busy with my duties for the forces and my social life
among the troops and especially, my chaplain colleagues. But I also tried to stay connected with local
Jewish communities whenever there was one in proximity to my duty station. When I mixed with the local Jews, I often
found myself serving as an apologist for the very phenomenon of Jews in the
military service.
In the minds of many
diaspora Jews, military service doesn’t ‘feel’ compatible with Judaism. How can Jews serve voluntarily in the armed
forces, when we pray so often, and so fervently, for peace? When we sing Oseh shalom bimromav with
all our heart? When we listen to the
voices of the Prophets, informing us that we will beat our swords into
ploughshares and study war no more?
Of course, we all
know that the modern Israeli state has an army, and a very powerful and
efficient one at that. We even take a
certain delight in seeing Israel’s army as one of the world’s best fighting
forces. But at the same time, we see
Israel as fielding a superb army only as a matter of necessity, since the
country is surrounded by hundreds of millions of Arabs and other Muslims who
would like to annihilate the Jewish state.
We see Israel’s army as a sort of aberration by necessity.
But herein lies an
important truism about living in the free and democratic world. Keeping a standing army is about being ready
to defend our ideals and interests.
About serving as a deterrent to potential aggressors. This tradition goes all the way back to
Jacob.
As this week’s Torah
portion opens, Jacob is heading back to Canaan after spending 14 years in
servitude to his father-in-law. He is
going to reclaim the land that is his inheritance. Even so, he is still terribly afraid is his
brother, Esau’s wrath. As you remember
in last week’s portion, Jacob fled for his life after he and his mother
conspired to trick Isaac into giving Jacob the blessing intended for Esau. This, after Jacob had earlier coerced Esau
into selling him his birth right for a pittance – a bowl of lentil soup.
Esau is seen in
traditional thought as representing the culture of the martial state. He was a man of the field – a hunter and a
soldier. He was not a deep thinker. Even though the Rabbis acknowledge that Jacob
tricked Esau, they still consider Jacob’s inheriting the Abrahamic legacy as proper. They consider Jacob to be ‘the right man for
the job’ despite his flaws. Esau, in
contrast is associated with Edom, who joined with the Canaanites in fighting
against Israel.
Although Jacob is
represented as being a quiet and thoughtful man, he begins this week’s portion
by doing something very military-like.
He dispatches a reconnaissance troop to scout out the land before him
and determine Esau’s intentions if possible.
Even if he’s not the kind of man to be a military commander, he at least
seems to understand the value of collecting battlefield intelligence.
The scouts return
and report to Jacob that Esau is coming to meet him, and that he has 400 men
with him. He’s coming to meet him with
400 men. It sounds like a round number,
like an estimate. But the Rabbis
understood the number to represent a military formation. In the Roman Army, of which the Rabbis had
direct experience, 400 men is a cohort, a specific independent field unit. So reading between the lines, Esau is
advancing for battle with his brother.
Jacob is not a
military commander, but he immediately begins acting like one. He divides his entourage into two camps in
order to protect his people and possessions from Esau. Should his brother’s intentions prove to be
hostile as feared, Jacob will hopefully be able to escape capture or death, and
have enough forces to ultimately regroup.
When they ultimately
do meet, Esau does not engage directly in frontal battle. Rather, he tries to get Jacob to proceed home
with him. But Jacob, smelling a trap is
too shrewd to fall for it. Instead he
insists on heading a different way and settling his camp away from his
brother’s. He clearly sees Esau as a
viable threat and wishes to give himself a chance to strengthen himself for the
eventual, and inevitable confrontation.
This is the reality
of the modern Jewish state. Israel never
sought to be a modern Sparta. Rather,
she sought to be an Athens, a centre of learning and rational thought. But with her borders surrounded by those who
did not, and really still do not, accept her existence and legitimacy, she has
by necessity become a sort of a Switzerland on the Mediterranean. A country desiring only neutrality. Yet ready to inflict hurt upon those who
would violate her desire to avoid military engagement. With not only a large standing army, but also
an armed citizenry ready to be called up on short notice. Following the example of our distant
ancestor, Jacob, they seek to avoid war by being eternally ready for war.
This is the lot, in
greater or lesser degree, of any country in this dangerous age in which we
live. There are enough rogue or
aggressive states ready to exploit weakness.
I’m talking about the Irans of the world. The Chinas and Russias. The Syrias and North Koreas. There are also forces beyond the control of
states, able to field the weapon of terror to control nations whom they see as
enemies. Like it or not, we must counter
these threats to our way of life. To our
values. To our security.
Here in Australia, one
can be forgiven for getting to thinking of the world as being a rather benign
place. Or alternatively, thinking that
great distance from the hotspots of the world will keep us safe. Even so, such thinking is clearly
mistaken. This is why Australia maintains
a robust presence in Afghanistan, for example.
Not because your country wishes to rule that country in junta with the
United States and others. Rather,
because your national leadership recognises Afghanistan as a breeding ground
for terror that can and will spill over to confront your country if allowed
free reign. As it did in Bali, in
2002. Afghanistan is a challenge, one
that cannot easily be dodged. This
despite the continuing cost of the operation.
Despite the periodic heartbreak when one of your sons comes home in a
box.
The existential
threat to the nation seems far more real, and more immediate, in Israel. This is why the Israelis agreed to the
cease-fire in Gaza last week. Some of us
applaud their stepping back from the brink and easing tensions in a very
dangerous confrontation. Others might
criticise the Israeli leadership for not pursuing their campaign until they’d
destroyed for once and for all Hamas’ ability to fire rockets on Israeli cities
and towns. But we really should avoid
the temptation to be ‘Monday Morning Quarterbacks’ and judge the Israeli
civilian and military leadership’s decision.
We can’t possibly know what they know.
And we don’t live with the threat of missiles raining down on us.
But again, what
about the Prophets? What about Micah,
who predicted that “Every man beneath his vine and fig tree shall live in peace
and unafraid?” Or Isaiah, who said “They
shall beat their ploughshares in pruning hooks”? Were the Prophets of Israel just spouting a
bunch of peacenik nonsense?
In a word, no. But they were predicting this in the context
of a messianic world, a world that does not yet exist. Rather, we live in the world foreseen by the
prophet Joel, who instructed beating “ploughshares into swords.” In other words, to be ready to defend your
peace, your rights, your security.
Once, I read a
philosophical critique of the enterprise national defence that went like
this: Why is that that we say we’re
preparing for peace by training and equipping for war? The author’s point was that, by preparing
for war, we only make war inevitable. There’s
a certain logic to the argument…until you really think about it.
The really logical
argument would be that, the weaker you seem to a potential aggressor, the more
likely that he is going exploit that weakness for his own gain.
So we follow the
example of Jacob, the mild man whom circumstances forced to think in military
terms. To ensure the peace of his family
and flocks by preparing for war. Jacob
surely would have preferred to expend his energies differently. But his brother’s intentions forced him to
take a different posture. And the
message to us is that we should seek peace and pursue it. But that, at the same time, we should not for
a moment let down our guard. Shabbat
shalom.
Eugene Delacroix, Jacob Wrestling with an Angel |
Wrestling with an Angel
A Drash for Saturday, 1 December 2012
Last week we read of Jacob’s dream of the ladder. Angels were ascending and descending
constantly. And G-d stood by Jacob’s
side, assuring him that he would be with him.
That the promise made to Abraham would be fulfilled through Jacob. That Jacob’s offspring would prevail and rule
the land that had been given them.
This week we read of
Jacob’s wrestling with an angel all night.
We’re not told that this is a dream.
Rather, we’re led to believe that this is an actual encounter. That Jacob actually does spend the night
wrestling and ends up with a disjointed hip.
And with a new name: Yisrael,
the one who has striven with G-d. In
that sense, we’re given to believe that the angel wrestling with Jacob was sent
by G-d for that purpose.
As we remember from
last week, Jacob fled to Haran for his life.
His brother, Esau was presumably in a fratricidal rage over the stolen
blessing. Not to mention the ‘tricked’ sale
of the birth right. Now, some 14 years
later Jacob is returning. He must, if he
is to claim his inheritance. Even so, he
is afraid.
Our tradition offers several possibilities as to who was this ‘angel’
wrestling with Jacob, and why. The one I
like best, is that it is his own yetzer hara, his evil inclination.
Our Christian
neighbours generally believe in Original Sin. That is, they believe that each one of us
is stained from birth by the sin of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Each one of us is in need of eternal
redemption from that sin. And as you can
guess, they believe they have the means of that redemption! Our tradition, in contrast teaches that we
are neutral and are guided by our own inclination toward good – the yetzer
tov – and evil. In any given
circumstance, we make moral choices and follow either inclination.
Our tradition, as I
pointed out last night, does not require that we allow someone to harm us
freely. This applies both personally and
to the nation. Taking up arms to defend
one’s self or country is perfectly legitimate. We are not instructed to beat our swords into
ploughshares. Rather, we are informed
that the end of war will be a consequence of the Messianic Times. Until the day arrives, we must defend
ourselves. There have been, and will
continue to be, Jews who are pacifists. But
no recognised form of Judaism instructs us to be pacifist.
This is not hard to
reconcile with Jewish law. Thou shalt
not kill is a mis-translation of the Sixth Commandment, Lo tirtzach. The proper translation is Thou shalt
not murder. Killing in self-defence,
including in certain circumstances in war, is not tantamount to murder. But it is regrettable. All loss of life is. If we revere G-d, who is the giver of life, then
we should revere life itself.
Being in a war, and
having the responsibility to take lives at times, is a difficult task to say
the least. Many who have served in war
have seen their own humanity, or that of others who served with them, suffer. The choices of how to take the taking of life
are both undesirable. One might feel the
pain of the person one has killed, and that could be debilitating. But the alternative is to become so callous
toward the life of one’s enemy that one is unaffected by it.
Jacob is seen here
as understanding that he’s likely to be going into battle against his brother,
Esau. The long night’s wrestle is seen as
his wrestling with his own evil inclination. He is struggling to avoid hating his
brother. He is struggling with the idea
that he may end up doing his brother harm, or even killing him. The wrestling with the angel is seen as a
metaphor for Jacob’s own internal struggle at this time.
As Jacob struggles
to maintain his morality, we will be struggling as if with G-d Himself. That’s why he’s given the name Yisrael. It is, after all, G-d who has commanded
us concerning our behaviour and attitude toward one another. So when we struggle over what we should or
shouldn’t do, we are struggling as if with the very G-d who gave us the Torah.
We usually call
ourselves, collectively, ‘Jews’ or ‘the Jewish people.” But in the Torah, we’re called Yisrael, the
name given to our patriarch Jacob. The implication
is that each one of us has a struggle as we live our lives. In any given circumstance, we can choose good
or evil. There is always an inclination
to choose the path that we know to not be the correct one. Our lives often feel like a series of
struggles as we try to do the right thing, and often do not. When we make bad choices, there are always
circumstances, a ‘price to pay.’
And the struggle
itself is the price of living. The price
of our autonomy. The price for having
the knowledge of Good and Evil. The
price of our humanity.
Jacob, on the eve of
a possible battle with his brother, struggled with his moral self. He fought his inclination to hate. To desire to destroy. All this, while needing to be ready to defend
his very life. In the end, Esau did not
appear to be too clever. Or perhaps he
too had first struggled with his inclinations and decided not to try to destroy
his brother. In any case, on the morrow there was no battle
– only a parting of the ways.
As we struggle, each
one of us, with the inclination to act morally or otherwise, may our best
inclination always win the day. Even if,
G-d forbid we are forced to take another person’s life to defend ourselves, our
homes, or our country. Should we be
unfortunate as to be put in that position, may we do so with our humanity
intact. May we learn the lesson of Jacob
– a flawed man to be sure, but one who manages to live a Good Life. Shabbat shalom.
No comments:
Post a Comment