Chapter 6
Ethical Challenges
In This Chapter
Pondering Jewish ethics
Making sense of sex and Judaism
Considering what the One God requires
In addition to what Judaism has to teach us about Jewish law (halakhah), practices (including customs and the mitzvot), and beliefs about God, the Jewish faith also instructs us in one other area: ethics — that is, how we act in the world, in relationships with other people, with our environment, and with God. Ethics is where the tire meets the road, and Jews can apply the lessons Judaism teaches to real world, everyday experiences.
The subject of ethics seems relatively simple and even fun when discussing simple situations. Should two siblings share a toy or should the one with the strongest fist get first rights? If a branch of your neighbor’s fruit tree extends over your property, is it okay to pick the fruit? But as the stakes get bigger — as more people are involved, people’s lives are at risk, or a sense of scarcity creates tight fists and hardened hearts — the question of ethics becomes simultaneously more crucial to explore and harder to discuss.
Ironically, ethics also teaches one of the hardest lessons to accept: That there is no single right answer. Judaism reflects this idea in several ways. First, remember that Jews have no ultimate moral authority, such as a Pope, to turn to. Each Jew is expected to think for him or herself, through self-education, understanding of the written and oral traditions, and working with the knowledgeable and wise.
Second, remember that the word “Israel” means “wrestling with God,” which is a way of saying that Jews value the mental and emotional components of wrestling over the issues as much as the issues themselves. Again, ethics isn’t just about arguing with each other —it’s also about facing ourselves: our own contradictions, biases, and demons.
Some of the topics in this chapter, including abortion and homosexuality, are controversial and may be upsetting. And yet, no discussion of Judaism would be practical or realistic if it didn’t address complex issues that confront our society.
Getting to the Heart of the Matter
We can’t distill four thousand years of teachings and tradition into a few paragraphs, but we can tell you about the four fundamental ethical teachings that lay at the heart of Judaism.
The Golden Rule
When the great first-century Rabbi Hillel was asked to explain all of Torah “while standing on one foot” he answered: “Do not do to others that which you would not wish them to do to you.” You may recognize this as the Golden Rule,” which has been reflected in many other traditions, including Confucianism and Christianity, often stated as “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
However you say it, the Golden Rule emerges from the same underlying philosophy: the recognition of the interconnectedness of all being, which we describe as God’s Oneness. And it’s not a rule; it’s a reality! Whether or not you believe in God, it’s clear that there is only one “everything,” and science clearly demonstrates that we are all connected. Therefore, whatever I do to you I am also doing to myself. The anguish and the suffering of someone else cannot help but be echoed in our own hearts. When we serve others, we are serving all of us; when we punish others, we are punishing all of us.
Expressions of God
A basic belief of Judaism stems from Genesis 1:27, “So God created humankind in God’s own image.” Many Jews interpret this as statement not just of origin, but as the philosophy of “as above, so below” — that the spirit and nature of the One is reflected in each and every human.
Later, in Leviticus 19, we learn:
The Eternal said to Moses, “Speak to the entire assembly of Israel and say to them: ‘Be holy because I, the Eternal your God, am holy . . .’ ”
The idea that each person is holy and an expression of the Universal One has extraordinary ramifications, because every human must then be treated with equal dignity and respect, no matter their crime, nationality, or appearance. Then, following up in the same chapter, we learn ethical rules based on the idea that we are, each of us, a reflection of God:
You shall not steal; neither shall you deal falsely, nor lie to one another . . . You shall not oppress your neighbor, nor rob him . . . You shall not curse the deaf, nor put a stumbling-block before the blind . . . you shall not be partial to the poor, nor defer to the mighty; but in righteousness you shall judge your neighbor.
Tikkun olam
A third basic foundation of Jewish ethical practice is called tikkun olam, “repairing the world.” Beginning in the early rabbinic period (20 BCE–220 CE), tikkun olam became a rationale for evolving biblical commandments to meet the demands of the current culture. In the 16th-century Jewish mystical communities (see Chapter 5), tikkun olam took on a more expansive spiritual meaning: Acts of righteousness and the fulfillment of mitzvot, according to Lurianic Kabbalah (see Chapter 5), actually help to heal all of Creation, for those actions on earth affect the whole universe.
Today, when so many people around the world feel disempowered, as though nothing they can do will make any difference, tikkun olam reminds us that even the smallest mitzvah or act of loving kindness, or the smallest protest, contributes to the healing of the world. Therefore, modern Jews often apply this concept to the pursuit of social justice and earth care.
Charged to act
All religions have answers regarding what to do when things go wrong. When it comes to righting those wrongs, the ethical teachings of Torah, the prophets, and the unfolding Jewish tradition focus on healing the wounds of the individual, the community, and the world. The words of ancient Jewish prophets still form the foundation for much of the social action and activism that exists today.
Whether an act is private or public is irrelevant: “Whatever may not properly be done in public is forbidden even in the most secret chamber.” (Shabbat 64b)
In the rest of this chapter, we take a look at Jewish responses to several of the most important issues today, in light of the basic three-part injunction provided by Micah. Some things have not changed very much in 2,900 years. We are still struggling to be kinder to one another.
Meeting at the Intersection of Righteousness and Charity
Everyone likes to think that there will come a time when hunger and poverty will no longer be a problem; when all people have enough to eat, have adequate shelter, and sufficient means for their survival. The Torah takes a more realistic view when it states, “There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore, I command you to be openhanded toward your brothers and toward the poor and the needy in your land.” (Deut. 15:11)
Think of it this way: Judaism places the fortunate and unfortunate on each side of a scale and understands that one side must help the other in order to find some sense of balance. This connection between justice or righteousness and charity is core to the Jewish ethical system.
And yet, finding balance doesn’t necessarily mean one should simply give to the other. The great Jewish scholar and ethicist Maimonides pointed out that it’s far better to lend someone money to start their own business than it is to give alms. This is in line with the old saying, “Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.” This is reflected in the last line of Deuteronomy 15:7–8:
If there is among you a needy person, one of your brethren, in any of your towns in your land which the Lord your God gives you, you shall not harden your heart, nor close your hand from your poor brother, but you shall freely open your hand to him, and shall generously lend him sufficient for his need in whatever he lacks.
We are not only commanded to provide when there is need but to respect the dignity of those we help. You can see this clearly in Leviticus 19:9-10:
When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap your field to its very border, neither shall you gather the gleanings after your harvest. And you shall not strip your vineyard bare, neither shall you gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and for the stranger: I am the Eternal your God.
The corners of the field are left for those who are able to harvest for themselves; the fallen grain and fruit for those unable to harvest but still able to pick up from the ground. No matter the ability, no matter the nationality or race, we must offer a dignified opportunity to all.
This was one of the key ideas behind the Musar (“morality”) movement, started by Rabbi Israel Salanter (1810–1883), which promoted the idea that Talmud study had to be accompanied by ethical good works and great humility in the everyday real world. As Salanter once wrote, “Normally, we worry about our own material well-being and our neighbor’s souls; let us rather worry about our neighbor’s material well-being and our own souls.”
By the way, one of the most effective international agencies providing food for those in need is Mazon: A Jewish Response to Hunger. The word mazon is Hebrew for “food” or “sustenance,” and the group helps prevent and alleviate hunger among people of all faiths and backgrounds.
Unraveling the Problem of the Other
People often find it tempting to look at individuals with differently colored skin and label them “other.” Or perhaps they have a different accent, nationality, style of dress, or behavior that makes them stand out as “different than us” and therefore somehow suspect. This is not a Jewish issue, of course, but a very natural human one. But Judaism has long taught that we all must find a way to look beyond these differences, to respect everyone as equals.
The Talmud explains: “One person (Adam) was created as the common ancestor of all people, for the sake of the peace of the human race, so that one should not be able to say to a neighbor, ‘My ancestor was better than yours’ ” (Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:5). That same discussion goes on to point out how crucial it is that we treat each other with care: “For one who destroys a single life is considered by scripture to have destroyed an entire world, and one who saves a single life is considered by scripture to have saved an entire world.”
In fact, Judaism puts extraordinary stress on how we must treat the “other” in our community: You can find the commandment to treat them with kindness and goodwill in one form or another 36 times in the Torah — more than any other mitzvah! For example, “You shall love the stranger; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt” (Deut. 10:19, Exodus 22:21, and Leviticus 19:33–34).
Of course, various Jewish communities have exhibited unfortunate examples of racism and xenophobia, and we’ve even heard arguments that Judaism is itself inherently racist. But keep in mind that Jews come in every size, color, and race, including Scandinavian Jews, African Jews, Asian Jews, and Jews who look like Arabs. As we explained in Chapter 1, Judaism is far more like a tribe than a race, focusing on ethics and actions more than belief or nationality.
Because of Judaism’s strong ethical foundations, and because Jews tend to identify with other disadvantaged people, they have long been on the forefront of civil and human rights. For instance, in 1964, at the height of the civil rights movement in America, 16 rabbis were arrested for participating in a peaceful sit-in in racially divided St. Augustine, Florida. While in jail, they wrote: “We came to St. Augustine mainly because we could not stay away. We could not say no to Martin Luther King, whom we always respected and admired and whose loyal friends we hope we shall be in the days to come. We could not pass by the opportunity to achieve a moral goal by a moral means — a rare modern privilege — which has been the glory of the non-violent struggle for civil rights . . . We came because we could not stand silently by our brother’s blood.”
Intra- and Interfaith Challenges
We must apply that same dictate to treat others with respect when confronting people with beliefs or religions different than our own. If we truly believe that there is One God, then we have to assume that the God of the Muslims, the Hindus, and the Christians (to name a few) is the same One. And we must respect that the expression of their belief is as much a reflection of that Oneness as our own.
For these reasons, we strongly advocate interfaith dialogue (and intrafaith dialogue, for example, between Orthodox and Secular Humanist Jews). We aren’t talking about a yearly Thanksgiving pulpit exchange, but instead consistent conversations among individuals and communities that allow us to get to know each other as human beings. Only then can we transcend our polarized viewpoints, celebrate our shared humanity, and begin to work together on effective responses to the issues of our time. The Jewish community lacks universal agreement on the importance of interfaith and intrafaith relationships. Especially as rates of intermarriage rise, many fear the diminishing of the Jewish population. But nevertheless we believe that there are substantial reasons for supporting interfaith dialogue.
It might sound banal, but getting to know one another behind the slogans and the jargon of our stated points of view can also help us confront practical political issues, as well. Because we don’t know each other well enough, we find it often tragically tempting to demonize the other. Discounting the basic humanity of those who differ from us always takes us away from the greater peace we seek.
When inter- and intrafaith groups come together, they can share life experiences, share what is most important to them, and remember that they are all part of one Life; that it’s us here, not “us and them.”
Embracing Our Sexuality
Judaism promotes study, prayer, and practicing mitzvot to have a closer, “right” relationship with the Universal. But there is another method: sex. Some religious traditions consider sex to be shameful or a distraction from spiritual work, but not Judaism. Instead, Judaism emphasizes that sex is a deeply holy act to be performed regularly, and insists that it be pleasurable for both members of a married couple. That said, Judaism does outline a number of strict rules involving physical intimacy — rules that, in fairness, are embraced wholeheartedly by some and rejected by others.
Jewish sexual ethics and practices are rooted in two basic concepts: That all human life is holy (see Expressions of God, earlier in this chapter), and that people can be in a state of ritual purity or impurity. These lead to the following laws:
Menstruation: Traditionally, sexual relations are not permitted when a woman is menstruating or for seven days after the last sign of blood (see Purifying the Spirit: Rites and Rituals, in Chapter 4). This is part of the highly intricate laws of purity that, like the kosher laws, reflect a range of meanings. One practical effect is that it encourages couples to resume intercourse when a man’s semen count is high and a woman is ovulating — thereby maximizing the chance of conception. It also emphasizes that a marriage must be based on much more than sexuality, as the couple is required to partner together without physical contact virtually half of each month. On the other hand, many liberal Jews consider this an archaic set of rules written by men, based on superstition and a lack of understanding of women’s bodies. Therefore, the majority of Jewish women don’t participate in the monthly mikvah, or ritual bath that concludes the menstrual cycle, nor do they refrain from physical contact with their husbands.
Spilling of seed: Jewish tradition is focused — you might even say “obsessed” at times — with procreation. This focus makes sense: In the Bible, God’s very first instruction is “Be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:28). Plus, historically, the Jews have always been a minority, and building up their community presence was a crucial task. But Orthodox Jews also see each sperm and egg as sacred — a potential life. The result is that they condemn any activity that “spills seed” — ejaculation outside the vagina. Many Jews now disregard this interpretation, tending to appreciate masturbation and other acts as a natural part of human sexuality.
Avoiding enticement: Jews understand that they must maintain a balance between the natural yetzer hara (the inclination toward evil or base actions) and the yetzer hatov (the inclination toward good). To achieve this balance, they believe that lust must be paired with love, just as the desire to work must be offset by the peace of Shabbat. One of the ways traditional Jews attempt to maintain balance is to avoid lascivious thoughts outside the intimacy of a married partner. Thus, Orthodox men and women dress and act modestly, and are physically separated, especially during religious services. Once again, most liberal Jews attempt to find their own balance without these restrictions.
Additionally, Jews don’t traditionally condone premarital sex. Once again, more liberal groups within the Jewish community may look toward religious insights when determining their own behavior, but they are not ruled by it (as the Reconstructionists say, “history has a vote, not a veto”).
Mystical visions of sexual union
The mystical Jewish tradition takes sexuality one step farther: that the sexual union between two people is the reflection of God’s own nature — reflecting the union of the masculine and the feminine aspects of God, and facilitating the flow of shefa (divine abundance, grace, or effluence) in the universe. As author Jay Michaelson notes, “the Zohar says that we are meant to imitate God — who creates, manifests into separation, and unites the separate back into One. For the Zohar and other texts, sexual union re-enacts the union of the high priest into the holy of holies; the union of heaven and earth.”
From this perspective, healthy, mindful, and intimate sexuality helps the process of universal Creation — giving a whole different meaning to pro-creation!
Birth control and abortion
Traditionally, Jews consider birth control acceptable as long as it doesn’t inhibit the laws regarding procreation (two child minimum, at least one male), but except for disease control, condoms are not an approved birth control method because of the prohibition against the “spilling of seed” (the pill is the approved method). More liberal Jews consider choices about sexuality to be theirs to make, and don’t follow a traditional religious authority on such matters, including abortion.
One of the hardest and most important decisions a woman must make is whether to bring a child into the world. Although Judaism clearly honors all human life, the vast majority of Jews believe in a woman’s right to choose an abortion. Because neither the Torah nor Talmud says anything specific about abortions, rabbis have long had to make up their own interpretations and rulings on this issue. Some traditions say that the child only becomes human when its head passes the birth canal; others say even the life of a fetus is a life worth saving.
We know rabbis who are pro-choice and those who are pro-life, but the ubiquitous Jewish tradition of pikuakh nefesh, the saving of a life, clearly states that abortion should be allowed if the mother’s life is danger. In fact, the Central Conference of American Rabbis (Reform) has issued a statement that abortion should be permitted “if there is serious danger to the health of the mother or child… [though] we do not encourage abortion, nor favor it for trivial reasons.”
Homosexuality
The Torah says very little about homosexuality, but one verse has been used to justify the condemnation of a man’s primary relationship with another man: “You shall not lie with a man as with a woman” (Lev. 18:22). Note that the verse calls this behavior toh-ei-vah, which is often translated as “abomination” but “taboo” or “foreign” is more accurate — the same word applies to eating unkosher food, feeling unwholesome pride, or using false scales when weighing things.
Nevertheless, the injunction against “spilling seed” effectively means that Orthodox Jews typically restrict themselves from any homosexual acts. Interestingly, there is no condemnation of lesbian relationships in the Bible, but most Orthodox rabbis argue against homosexual behavior by both men and women.
On the other hand, men can’t actually “lie with a man as with a woman” because the anatomy is different. So some people in the Jewish community don’t take this verse literally, but see it as a product of a different time and culture.
Whatever the case, attitudes toward homosexuals have changed radically in the last 40 years, and Jewish groups have begun to welcome members of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) community. Furthermore, openly gay rabbis and cantors now serve in all branches of Judaism except the Orthodox. And most liberal (and even some Conservative) rabbis have been performing same-sex marriage or commitment ceremonies for decades.
We are still in a period of change, and those who are more accepting of relationships defined by love rather than by gender certainly support this change.
Prohibited relationships
The principle of pikuakh nefesh clearly states that almost every commandment must be transgressed in order to save life. For example, although driving is traditionally forbidden on Shabbat, one must drive a seriously ill person to the hospital for treatment.
Finding a Way to Peace
War has been with us from the beginning of recorded history, like a plague always appearing somewhere on the planet. However, Judaism affirms the primary importance of peace, and the Talmudic rabbis pointed out that “All that is written in the Torah was written for the sake of peace” (Tanhuma Shoftim 18).
The rabbis also remind us that war is most often caused by scarcity of resources (such as food and water) and — often hand in hand — scarcity of righteous behavior, as in this statement from Pirke Avot, the Ethics of the Fathers: “The sword comes into the world because of justice delayed and justice denied.” Our early history is full of war and violence, but Judaism ultimately celebrates the peacemakers and reminds us that all humans are expressions of God and that we must treat our neighbors (even our enemies) as ourselves.
So while Jewish law condones war in self-defense, it prohibits a wide range of tactics, including poisoning livestock, destroying fruit trees, or laying waste to food or water sources. Similarly, Deuteronomy 20:10 points out that we must always seek a peaceful solution before waging any battle, and Proverbs 25:21 notes: “If your enemy is hungry, give him bread to eat. And if he is thirsty, give him water to drink.” Remember the classic comic strip character Pogo, who said, “We have met the enemy, and he is us?” Perhaps that’s why Proverbs 24:17 insists: “Do not gloat when your enemy falls; when he stumbles, do not let your heart rejoice.”
Breaking the cycle
Numerous teachings support the crucial importance of peace, and yet Jews and Judaism have so often been caught up in violence and war. So how are we to break the cycle?
We remember an old camp song that says, “You can’t get to heaven, in . . . ,” then listing all the conveyances that will fail to deliver us to that goal. Well, it’s clear that we can’t get to peace in the ways that we have been trying. Namely, we can’t ever get to peace through war. No war has ever brought the peace it promised, because war creates winners and losers. The winners too often begin to replicate the very power structures they fought against; and the losers soon begin planning their revenge.
That’s why Proverbs 20:22 warns us, “Do not say, ‘I’ll pay you back for this wrong!’” and in the ninth-century Avot De Rabbi Natan we read, “Who is a hero among heroes? One who turns an enemy into a friend.” The rabbis of the Talmud go so far as to declare that if two people need help and one of them is your enemy, help your enemy first — the reason being that it’s always better to overcome your own inclination toward evil (yetzer hara) and convert an enemy to a friend.
The few times in recent history when war was followed by peace stem from substantial support from the winning side for those who had lost. In other words, it was peaceful action that brought true peace — not violence. If we seek peace, the means of our seeking must be peaceful; if we seek love, we must seek it lovingly. When the Torah says, “Justice, justice shall you pursue” (Deuteronomy 16:20), the doubled word “justice” reminds us that justice can only be pursued with just means. This is still one of the most difficult lessons for humans to learn.
Here are two more Jewish ethical teachings regarding violence:
Murder: Although capital punishment is allowed, one may not murder an innocent person. Genesis 9:6 says: “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed; for in the image of God has God made man.” This prohibition is true even if killing will save your own life. The Talmud states: “The governor of my town has ordered me, ‘Go and kill so and so; if not, I will slay thee.’ [The rabbi] answered him, ‘Let him rather slay you than that you should commit murder; who knows that your blood is redder? Perhaps his blood is redder’” (Sanhedrin 74a).
Capital punishment: The Bible clearly mandates capital punishment but is very careful about requiring at least two witnesses to support that judgment. Ultimately, however, rabbinic traditions made it so difficult to bring the death penalty that it was practically impossible ever to carry it out. Many Jewish groups are today on record against capital punishment.
In all Jewish prayer services there are prayers for peace. At the very end of worship, the Mourner’s Kaddish (see Chapter 4) concludes, “May the One who makes peace in the high places make peace for us.” Remember that the Hebrew word Shalom, meaning peace, comes from the word “wholeness” or “complete.” Perhaps the real task is to begin within ourselves, finding the inner peace that can contribute best to the tikkun olam of world peace.
Respecting Animals and the Environment
When you take a walk along a pristine beach or through a quiet mountain forest, you can see how everyone — from secular atheist to Orthodox Jew — can appreciate the wonder and awe of the natural world around us. Ecclesiastes Rabbah 7:13 marvelously describes this awesome beauty:
This deep reverence for nature is deeply rooted in Judaism and forms the basis for two important issues in Jewish ethics: bal tashkhit and tza’ar ba’alei khayim.
Bal Tashkhit: Do not destroy
We’ve known for centuries that our survival depends upon a healthy environment where the food we require can be produced, yet we continue to ravage our planet. The ancient code of bal tashkhit, literally “do not destroy,” prohibits wasteful or senseless destruction of resources and the environment. Instead, Jewish tradition encourages caring for the land, and, by extension, for our entire world. The Torah states that even farmland should observe a 12-month “Shabbat” of rest every seven years. Today, Jewish groups, basing their actions on religious principles, are among those most active in working for a healthier environment (see Chapter 23).
Bal tashkhit tells us to behave responsibly: Drive energy efficient cars when possible, turn off the lights when we leave a room, and avoid squandering food, money, or useable things.
Tza’ar ba’alei khayim: Treat living creatures with dignity
Although Judaism places the role of humans above that of animals, the traditional principle of tza’ar ba’alei khayim, avoiding “the suffering of any living creatures,” insists that we must respect and honor animals in our care. For instance, the Talmud states, “A person is prohibited to eat until he first feeds his animals” (Berachot 40a), and Exodus 20:10 notes that on Shabbat (see Chapter 18) our animals should rest alongside us.
This underlying law has a number of consequences, including the condemnation of hunting and animal fighting for sport, and the rule that animals must be slaughtered as quickly and painlessly as possible. Many Jews today expand this law to avoid any product that came from ill-treated animals.
When we remember that we share one environment, and that our actions in one place impact the water and air everywhere, we realize that we can only successfully protect our environment when we act together. Jewish tradition affirms the essential wholeness and holiness of our natural world. A Hasidic teaching enjoins us to take off our shoes, just as Moses was asked to take off his shoes when approaching the Burning Bush, because the ground we are standing on is holy. We are always standing on holy ground.
Striving for tikkun olam
We’re only human. Sometimes we rise to the occasion, reflecting the highest ideals of our culture and ethics; sometimes we sink, heavy with fear or anger. You can find obvious examples of prominent Jews who have made poor ethical choices. Even the state of Israel, which is often held to a higher moral standard than other countries, has made some questionable ethical decisions in the past 60 years. But Judaism understands that we’re not expected to get it right all the time; it does expect us to keep trying, though, and learn from our mistakes.
The Talmud records Rabbi Tarfon’s words: “It is not incumbent upon you to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it altogether” (Pirke Avot 2:21). We prefer a slightly different reading of this text: You don’t have to complete the work, but you’re not truly free when you totally desist from the work.
Crucial issues of our time are a direct invitation to remember our oneness, and to take responsibility for what we are doing. And Judaism asks us to do so with kindness and compassion, in the service of tikkun olam.