Dear Friends,
A challenge: Note the differences and similarities in the following two verses, the first from this week’s Torah portion, the second from a portion that we read in the winter:
“When you see your fellow’s donkey or ox fallen on the road, do not ignore it—you must help him raise it. (Deuteronomy 22:4)
“When you see the donkey of your enemy lying under its burden and would refrain from raising it, you must nevertheless raise it with him.” (Exodus 23:5)
Although there are several differences and similarities, the most telling distinction is that in Exodus’s text, the fallen animal belongs to one’s enemy, while in this week’s verse from Deuteronomy, the animal is that of a friend. Otherwise, the verses are essentially the same. Why the major difference?
Some contend that during Exodus, the Israelite people were wandering in foreign lands and likely encountered more enemies, while the Deuteronomy text describes settled people among their kin. Perhaps.
Yet the powerful message of assisting one’s enemy is striking. In Tuesday night’s political debate between Mr. Trump and Ms. Harris, the two parties were not inclined to help each other, unless it was to help the other stumble but not to assist them back to their feet. So too in a prizefight: the winner is eager to knock the other to the ground with no interest in raising the fallen adversary.
The Torah seems to be on to something very different.
It’s concern seems not to promote a winner/loser dichotomy or a zero-sum game. Rather, it is urging an ontological development of encountering an enemy and transforming him or her into a friend. It is the most delicate yet consequential of interactions. It is risking one’s inner standing for the sake of developing a new, lasting collegiality.
250 years ago, Benjamin Franklin demonstrated this maneuver. Faced with a rival legislator with whom he had difficulty, Franklin knew that the other owned a rare book, and he asked to borrow it for a week. The rival consented, and when Franklin returned the volume with a nice note, the other legislator began to treat him benignly, and they eventually struck up what would be a lifetime friendship.
Helping the other (to feel important and generous, in Franklin’s case) transformed the tension into kindness. It shifted an enemy into a friend. It confirmed Deuteronomy’s intention.
A few weeks from Rosh Hashanah, it is a worthy inspiration for approaching the New Year!
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Douglas Kohn
A challenge: Note the differences and similarities in the following two verses, the first from this week’s Torah portion, the second from a portion that we read in the winter:
“When you see your fellow’s donkey or ox fallen on the road, do not ignore it—you must help him raise it. (Deuteronomy 22:4)
“When you see the donkey of your enemy lying under its burden and would refrain from raising it, you must nevertheless raise it with him.” (Exodus 23:5)
Although there are several differences and similarities, the most telling distinction is that in Exodus’s text, the fallen animal belongs to one’s enemy, while in this week’s verse from Deuteronomy, the animal is that of a friend. Otherwise, the verses are essentially the same. Why the major difference?
Some contend that during Exodus, the Israelite people were wandering in foreign lands and likely encountered more enemies, while the Deuteronomy text describes settled people among their kin. Perhaps.
Yet the powerful message of assisting one’s enemy is striking. In Tuesday night’s political debate between Mr. Trump and Ms. Harris, the two parties were not inclined to help each other, unless it was to help the other stumble but not to assist them back to their feet. So too in a prizefight: the winner is eager to knock the other to the ground with no interest in raising the fallen adversary.
The Torah seems to be on to something very different.
It’s concern seems not to promote a winner/loser dichotomy or a zero-sum game. Rather, it is urging an ontological development of encountering an enemy and transforming him or her into a friend. It is the most delicate yet consequential of interactions. It is risking one’s inner standing for the sake of developing a new, lasting collegiality.
250 years ago, Benjamin Franklin demonstrated this maneuver. Faced with a rival legislator with whom he had difficulty, Franklin knew that the other owned a rare book, and he asked to borrow it for a week. The rival consented, and when Franklin returned the volume with a nice note, the other legislator began to treat him benignly, and they eventually struck up what would be a lifetime friendship.
Helping the other (to feel important and generous, in Franklin’s case) transformed the tension into kindness. It shifted an enemy into a friend. It confirmed Deuteronomy’s intention.
A few weeks from Rosh Hashanah, it is a worthy inspiration for approaching the New Year!
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Douglas Kohn
