On Not Hating Those Who Hate

Rabbi Yael Levy
Jul 27, 2017 · 3 min read

On Tisha b’Av, the ninth of the month of Av, (from sunset July 31 to sunset on August 1 this year), Jews mark the catastrophic destruction of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem in 586 B.C.E. and 70 C.E. It is a day of mourning that is traditionally observed with a full fast from food and drink and by chanting the Book of Lamentations.

The tradition teaches that the Temples were destroyed because people’s hatred toward each other caused the Divine Presence to flee, leaving the Temples vulnerable to attack.

The lessons of this day shout from the heart and soul of our country and are heard in cries from around the world:

Hatred destroys.

Hatred dehumanizes. Hatred annihilates thought and only breeds more hatred, fear, division and devastation.

It certainly makes sense at times to be angry, to be enraged by the ignorance, bigotry and injustice that plague this country and the world. It makes sense at times to feel hatred toward those who are acting with violence and greed. And we are not alone: our anger and rage are shared by others who wonder, as we do, how our values can be so different from those of our neighbors and fellow citizens, and why people who have the power to change things do not act. Sometimes what little equilibrium we have managed can be lost in seemingly casual conversations with friends who feel the same as we do. Frustration and anger are highly contagious.

It makes sense at times to want to lash out and destroy. Yet these responses only increase the venom that poisons our own hearts and souls and the hearts and souls of our communities and our world. This time in the month of Av teaches that, in moments of extreme anger and fear, we should do everything we can to keep ourselves from becoming ensnared in hatred, even toward people with hateful ideas whose words and actions we find repellant — especially toward them.

Instead, we are called to cultivate Radical Empathy — a commitment to see the humanity in those we fear and label as enemies.

This is, of course, a tremendous challenge, so we practice.

We practice with those we love: our family, our friends, our community. We recognize their vulnerability, their beauty and humanity and we feel our love for them.

Then we turn toward those we do not know, who live in our neighborhoods and our cities. We recognize their vulnerability, their beauty and humanity, and we send them blessings for wellbeing, safety and peace.

Then we let ourselves see the children of those we have labeled “enemy” — small, young, vulnerable. And we see their humanity and send them blessings for wellbeing, safety and peace.

I don’t want us to excuse ideas and actions that are simply wrong, or explain away why some people continue to hold views that have been disproven over and over again. I am not suggesting we try to “come together” to seek compromise between their values and ours. What I am suggesting is that we continue to recognize the humanity in everyone.

This is a practice far more challenging than fasting for a day. But let us take this holy time and make a commitment to break the stranglehold of fear and hatred in our own hearts. Let us begin by calling forth our great capacity to love.

Let us use this blessed time to act for healing. Let us call on compassion and empathy with all our hearts, souls and strength so that the sacred will continue to dwell in our midst.

Rabbi Yael Levy

Written by

Founder and rabbinic director of A Way In Jewish Mindfulness organization. http://awayin.org

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