Shmuley Boteach’s statements in the wake of
the slaughter of Mumbai and his broadside against the way Jesus’ injunction to
love one’s enemies is often interpreted struck a nerve with me. I cannot agree
with everything Boteach says. But then, I do not agree with everything his
critics have offered in reply.
My fundamental objection to the way the debate has gone is the level of abstraction on which it has been pursued. If the issues are carefully contextualized, it is possible to see eye to eye on things more than might seem possible on first blush. Let me explain.
Here is the key graph from Boteach’s op-ed:
As for my Christian brethren who regularly quote to me Jesus' famous
saying, "Love your enemies," my response is that our enemies and
God's enemies are different parties altogether. Jesus meant to love those who
steal your girlfriend, cut you off on the road or swindle you in a business
deal. But to love those who indiscriminately murder God's children is an
abomination against all that is sacred. Is there a man who is human whose heart
is not filled with moral revulsion against terrorists who target a rabbi who
feeds the hungry? Would God or Jesus ask me to extend even one morsel of my
limited capacity for compassion to fiends rather than saving every last
particle for their victims instead?
Could God really be so unreasonable, could Jesus be so cruel, as to ask
me to love baby-killers? And would such a God be moral if He did? Could I pray
to a God who loves terrorists? Could I find comfort in Him knowing that He
offers them comfort as well? No, such a god would be my enemy. He would abide
in Hades rather than heaven. And I would be damned before I would worship him.
I will accept an eternity in purgatory rather than a moment of celestial bliss
shared with these beasts.
Here are some key graphs from a response by Greg Gilbert
(HT: Justin Taylor at Between
Two Worlds):
Boteach is wrong to limit Jesus’ command just to minor personal offenses.
Jesus says, “Love your enemies and do good to those who hate you. Bless those
who persecute you.” Persecution isn’t just stealing your girlfriend. For the
early Christians, it was killing them—and/or their families—in often brutal
ways. Those are the enemies Jesus is
telling them to love, not just a punk who cuts you off in traffic.
[snip]
Loving one’s enemies does not mean hoping that they will escape
justice—either God’s or the state’s.
So what does it mean? Well here’s where we come to the heart of the
Christian gospel. I think, at root, loving one’s enemy means genuinely hoping
for that enemy’s salvation—even a terrorist’s—and (given the chance) acting in
ways consistent with that hope. Now I realize that this is exactly what
repulses Rabbi Boteach: Give me purgatory, he says, rather than heaven with a
forgiven terrorist. But isn’t that kind of fulmination just born of a boiling
self-righteousness? Doesn’t it come from a conviction that the terrorist
deserves to be punished, but I don’t?
[snip]
Not many of us will ever have the opportunity to sit face to face with a
terrorist and have to decide what loving that person might look like. But we do
have to decide whether we’ll take pleasure in the thought of that person being
in hell—or whether we’ll pray and genuinely hope for that person’s salvation
and forgiveness.
A response to Boteach. I am grateful, first
of all, for his unapologetic engagement with Christian doctrine from a
committed, Orthodox Jewish point of view. As I imagine he is aware, his words cited above echo one of the great masterpieces of western literature, written
by a tormented but absolutely lucid Christian, Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers
Karamazov, and more specifically, the objections of Ivan, the prototype of the person who rails against God out
of a commitment to justice, recounted therein. A literate person cannot take in Boteach’s words without being
reminded of similar arguments laid out in gut-wrenching detail by Dostoevsky.
Let it be said, furthermore, that Dostoevsky’s knowledge of cruelty, terrorism,
and primordial evil was first-hand.
What is almost always overlooked is the
response Christ gives to the Grand Inquisitor. It is simple: silence, acceptance, a sign
of fellowship. A kiss. (I miss no longer living in Sicily in which a kiss given
by one male to another can be fraught with friendship and loyalty.)
Generally speaking, furthermore, Alyosha, the prototypical Christian, listens to and accepts Ivan's objections rather than talk back to and contradict them.
There is a similar scene in Dostoevsky’s Notes
from Underground. In that case, a woman embraces a hateful and self-hating
man destroyed by knowledge of sad truth. The embrace is, one might say,
the christological moment. It is short and fleeting. Christological moments
usually are.
I have nothing to add. Perhaps one day, when
every tear has been wiped away, we will all see what we cannot see here and
now. In the meantime, praying for vengeance is clearly something God permits,
here and now and beyond the grave, both in the Old and New Testaments (e.g., Gen
4:10; Psalm 137:9; Job 16:18; Romans 12:19-21; Revelation 6:10-11). Whenever
Christians try to be better Christians than the New Testament authors were,
they make a hash of things. Every attempt to leave behind the complexio oppositorum
(union of opposites) which is the New Testament and the Bible for something
purer and more refined, has, historically speaking, created savage
contradictions of its own.
At the same time, the injunction to love
one’s enemies needs to be given far wider scope than Boteach allows. To begin
with, the teaching of Jesus made excellent sense in context. The wording makes
it clear that Jesus meant it to apply in particular to the approach to take to
the Roman occupation: if you are conscripted to go one mile, go two. The Romans, of course, could be
cruel and capricious. They committed atrocities. Minor offenses alone are not in view. It is not too
much to say that if Jesus’s words had been heeded by his generation, the entire
course of Jewish history would have been altered. The civil war and the revolt
against the Romans which resulted in the destruction of the Second Temple would
never have taken place.
Even so, nascent Christianity survived these
disasters. By the grace of God - I mistrust Christians unable to see God’s hand
in this - so did rabbinic Judaism. Literally more than symbolically, the great Yohanan
ben Zakkai left Jerusalem in a coffin, and began all over again in a state of
Galut which continues to this day, despite and even within the context of a
renewed state of Israel (Avot deRabbi Nathan, chapter 4, Michael Pitkowsky
signals the appearance of the best edition here).
It is precisely face to face with an enemy
who can squish you at will that non-resistance to the enemy often – not always
– is the only constructive option available. To be sure, in view of another situation,
Jesus recommends flight: Matthew 24:16. Woe, indeed, to the one who does not
flee, according to that passage.
Gilbert seems to think that it is unlikely
that we will ever sit face-to-face with a terrorist, and be called upon to
respond appropriately. Boteach does not discuss the situation. This is a sin of
omission on Boteach’s part, and a miscalculation on Gilbert’s part.
Many of us have or will, at some point in our
lives, sit face-to-face with a terrorist, or wannabe terrorist, while waiting
for an international flight, on a subway ride, or what have you. Most
of the time, it will not be clear who we are dealing with, but that just makes
it all the more important that we think through our actions.
I have sat face-to-face with a terrorist. I
befriended a terrorist, and worked for years with young Muslims who were
excellent candidates for becoming terrorists.
This was during my years in Sicily, when the Italian
Methodist Church I pastored, in conjunction with the Caritas, the Focolare
Movement, Catholic parishes, and public and private funding, opened up a youth
center for Arab migrant workers. I was the center’s director. A family from
Tunisia had escaped by boat to Sicily (the distance is not far; like going from
Cuba to Florida). They left because their lives, that of a well-educated
engineer, his wife, and young children, were in danger. For this reason: the
soft-spoken young man was part of a terrorist organization whose goal was to
topple the Tunisian government by means of violent acts. I arranged for him and
his family to acquire political refugee status through the UN. Believe me, the
representative of the UN in Rome I worked with, myself, and the few others in
on what was happening, we knew what we were doing and for whom we were doing
it. My entire goal was to love this enemy of mine, to be, in Will Campbell’s immortal
words, a brother to a dragonfly.
I will never forget the times I had with him
and his family and other young Tunisians, Algerians, and Moroccans, many of
whom were being swept up in the Islamic revival that rolled across the Arab
world and expatriate communities at the time. Sharing Id-al-Fitr with them at their invitation. Helping
others, surreptitiously, figure out what to do given a conversion to
Christianity that had to be hidden from the public (the Muslim Brotherhood has eyes
and ears everywhere). Being referred to as a “muslim pastor” – their words, not
mine, to describe the fact that they knew me to be a friend of Muslims; I enjoyed asking them to give me lessons in the Koran. They were newbie Muslims, all
of them raised by secularized parents, with a fierce desire to appropriate
their ancestral faith in a positive and personal way. At the same time, the
center was being flooded with literature printed in London calling them to
jihad against Jews, Israel, Great Britain, and the USA.
Surely it is obvious what love of one’s
enemies means in that context, and why it is the only sensible attitude to take,
precisely because, in ways that cannot be seen by the naked eye, life and death
were being chosen every day.
The injunction to love one’s enemies has far
wider scope than either Boteach and Gilbert seem to imagine. Terrorists of
various kinds are a dime a dozen. It’s about time people woke up to the fact. More
often than not, the terrorist will be domestic in nature, a neighbor of yours,
a co-worker, someone you go to church or shul with, an abuser who takes out his
or her frustrations on others in terribly hurtful ways. Someone who may one day
go postal, or not, if not on others, on herself “alone.” The woman who tried to
commit suicide by cop with “the help” of a parishioner of mine, a police
officer who was forced to fire on her to save his own life and those of others.
The young man who took his own life after he broke up with his girlfriend. The attractive
young man whose love for another man, or woman, in a moment of rage or
depression, transmogrifies into violence. Toxic love. Toxic death.
It’s not about hoping and praying for the
salvation of others. Sometimes that is appropriate. Sometimes, it is not. “Let
the evildoer still do evil; let the filthy still be filthy (that they may be
repaid for what they’ve done)” (Rev 22:10-11). Gilbert’s final answer fails to be faithful
to the entire biblical witness.
It’s also not about accusing Boteach or
anyone else of self-righteousness because they cry out for God’s vengeance though
they, no less than anyone else, must pray as David does in Psalm 51: “You, you
alone have I offended, / I have done evil in your eyes.” It is possible to do
both.
The facts are these. The injunction to love
one’s enemies is practical advice. To this day, in an airport, if I see a young
Muslim reading his Koran or accomplishing the requirement of prayer as
unobtrusively as possible, I will walk over and ask, “So you believe in God? I
agree with you that God, Allah as you say, is As-Salam, the source of peace;
Al-Quddus, the Holy; Al-Malik, the Sovereign Lord; Ar-Rahim, the Merciful;
Ar-Rahman, the Beneficent; Al-Basir, the All-Seeing; As-Sami, the All-Hearing;
Al-Muzill, Giver of Dishonor, Al-Mu’izz, Giver of Honor. I thank you for your witness
to this faith. May God bless you in every way.
A conversation sometimes begins, and even if
it doesn’t, I know myself as acting in light of the injunction to love my
enemies, which I find already in the Torah (Lev 19:18), though of course I have no way of knowing whether the person I’m
talking to is, in fact, my enemy. Still, better safe than sorry. Loving one’s
enemies is a proactive endeavor.
I wrote up my response to the Mumbai
slaughter here.


John,
On the one hand, I speak as someone who has never directly encountered evil (as far as I'm aware): I have never seen a massacre or participated in one, and I haven't seen sheer brutality or cruelty against another person. At the same time, I am also someone who has hated his brother; I am a murderer. I have had violence in my heart.
We have to value justice and side with victims. It would be a mockery to God and those affected by tragedy if we ignored justice. Conversely, we must believe in reconciliation. If it is impossible to overcome our differences, repent, and most importantly, to forgive, then we are doomed.
God is righteous and demands righteousness of us as well. The divine has imposed law upon a thoroughly wicked world and in the world to come, there will be reward and punishment. At the same time, God is abounding in grace and mercy. We have been enemies of the divine and God has sent the prophets to urge us and plead with us to love God and man instead.
Neither of these poles can be ignored. In this world, it is necessary to live in the tension of justice versus grace and mercy, or identifying with victims and forgiving oppressors. Just like we live within that tension ourselves and just like how God deigns to live in that tension with the creation.
There are no easy answers to how you love God and man. This is mostly a product of how difficult man makes it. Both of these respondents are right in as much as if we gave up loving the victims, we would give up loving justice and if we gave up loving the oppressors, we would give up loving grace and mercy.
Tragedy makes me eagerly await a world in which every tear will be wiped away and God will be the all in all, restoring everything. Until then, it is our mission to faithfully insist on righteousness as well as universal love, primarily within ourselves.
-JAK
Posted by: Justin (koavf) | December 09, 2008 at 10:12 PM
Hi again!
I don't know if you'd be interested, but here's a really interesting debate, Shmuley and a Messianic Jewish fellow:
Rabbi Shmuley Boteach on Jesus (1of2) - DEBATE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Km9Up16oa7A&feature=related
Dr. Michael Brown Responds to Rabbi on Jesus (2of2) - DEBATE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HKvbNh3Xg7Q&feature=related
I would also be interested in your comments if you have things to add or insight. : )
Posted by: John | December 10, 2008 at 06:25 AM
Justin and John,
Thanks for your comments and suggestions. Note that Michael Pitkowsky at Menachem Mendel has an excellent follow-up post to this one.
He also references an important essay entitled, "The Virtue of Hate" I want to look at.
Posted by: John Hobbins | December 10, 2008 at 10:13 AM