One of the consequences of being a student of the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament is that I understand how the New Testament often distorts Jewish law. You already know the most popular misconception: that Judaism is a harsh, cold religion of laws, devoid of love and compassion. Get into a discussion with anyone trying to illustrate the superiority of their brand of Chrisitanity and, almost inevitably, this verse will pop up: “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you,… ‘If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other.’… You have also heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, ‘Love your enemy and pray for those who persecute you.’”
In fact, this is one the most famous verses that is used to purport the New Testament vision of what it means to be in covenant with God. Not surprisingly, the gospels had an axe to grind against Jewish law and so this outlook was elevated as the standard of what it means to be God’s chosen. But, it is also a misunderstood reading of this week’s Torah portion. And, because it was misunderstood by the gospel writer, the Church has put Jews on the defensive for 2000 years.
So here is what’s going on in this week’s Torah portion, Mishpatim. In most ancient societies and today in American society, too often vengeance is interpreted as justice. This is why there is such support for everything for what can rightly be called human rights abuses. When living in a world of vengenance, human rights easily disappear. And so when retribution and vengeance ruled, that is considered justice.
And what is this kind of vengeance dressed up as justice? When someone knocked out your eye, you knocked out both of his eyes. If someone broke your leg, you paralyze him and make your retaliation permanent.
Jewish tradition knows how far vengeance cloaked as justice can go. And so Jewish tradition did something extraordinary – it took the literal Torah and reinterpreted it so that the base and often ugly forces of vengeance were extinguished as effectively as possible. In other words, Jewish tradition knows what people can do when the worst of human nature is permitted to rule.
And so, our Sages took this Torah verse and, knowing how fickle human nature is, put a fence around the law and put a limit on what is fair and permissible. At most, they teach, an eye for an eye or a tooth for a tooth was the intention of this biblical expression of justice. So much for the anti-Jewish message in Matthew’s statement in the New Testament. But the Sages went even further.
A law like this, even with the fences around it, could still be abused and used to justify suffering. And so, later in the Talmud they teach us to consider “the value of an eye for an eye and the value of a tooth for a tooth” (Bava Kama 83b). This is a radical understanding of what appears to be a simple verse. It addresses human nature. It addresses our proclivity to excess. And it seeks a certain balance of justice. Is it perfect? Nothing ever is. There will always be dissatisfaction but, at least, there won’t be a society of blind and lame people all in the name of literal justice. For the Sages, justice is an ongoing journey; often imperfect, often not fully realized and almost always a struggle between the competing forces of human nature.
I think the rabbis were right in the way they interpreted the eye for an eye verse. If the Torah were meant to be taken literally, you would expect there to be a following verse that would say something like ‘love your neighbours but hate your enemy.’ But there isn’t.
Instead, in the same Torah portion we have a verse that is astonishing in its understanding of how we deal even with our enemies when it says, “When you encounter your enemy’s ox or ass wandering, you must take it back to him. When you see the ass of your enemy lying under its burden and would refrain from raising it, you must, nevertheless, raise it with him” We are responsible when we put out our neighbour’s eye and we are responsible when we ignore the pain and damage when our neighbour suffers. There is no ‘stand your ground law’ in Jewish tradition because we all stand on the same ground.
The Torah is teaching us to reach into the best parts of what we are capable of. It does not tell us to love our enemy, nor does it tell us to hate her. The Torah recognizes reality. Loving our friend and neighbor is easy. Loving our enemy is probably impossible, and that is why our Torah does not command such a thing. What it does teach is that each of us as the power over our negative impulse, our yetzer harah. Yes, you may hate your enemy, but if you let that hatred define you and guide your every moment, you change nothing except that part of your soul that fantasizes about vengeance and amplifying the most base instincts of human nature. The Torah seeks to mitigate that not so that you can love and respect your enemy but rather so that hate does not consume your every waking hour.
In my personal essay for the position as rabbi here, I mention the passage from Pirke Avot, the important sayings of our Sages that says ‘in a place where there are no good people, strive to be a good person.’ In other words, it is a call for each of us to be the mensch, the grown-up in the room even with our enemy. Help your enemy in spite of the fact that you may not want to. As a result, although you may not come to love your enemy, you will come to love a God who cares even about your enemy. And that is a covenant worth protecting.
