D’var Torah for D’Varim

Nancy Gould gave this d’var Saturday, Aug 13.

This week’s parsha is D’varim, which begins the book of Deuteronomy.  Moses gives his final address to the people of Israel and recounts everything they have been through.  He describes how judges were appointed over each tribe and instructed to “judge fairly, whether the case is between two Israelites or between an Israelite and a foreigner residing among you.  Do not show partiality in judging; hear both small and great alike.”

Later in the parsha he describes the instructions they were given for conquering the lands they’ve been promised.  No prisoners will be taken.  Everyone must be destroyed:  men, women, and children.  G-d tells the Israelites: “This very day I will begin to put the terror and fear of you on all the nations under heaven.  They will hear reports of you and will tremble and be in anguish because of you.”

How can we possibly comprehend a god, who on the one hand encourages fairness and justice:  everybody is to be treated the same, whether they are an Israelite or a foreigner, rich or poor.  On the other hand, G-d also tells the Israelites to commit genocide.  How can that possibly be just or fair?  What kind of G-d is this?

We see this duality throughout the Bible: a god who is just and fair and creates things versus a god who is destructive and cruel.  We even see this duality in other religions.  The Christians came up with Jesus, a god who is all compassionate and all forgiving, because the god of the Old Testament was too harsh and unforgiving.  In Hinduism, there is Shiva the Destroyer and Brahma, the Creator.  In Taoism, there is the yin and the yang.  There is always a “dark side of the Force.”

One of my mentors at work, a person who really inspired me, was a retired Navy captain.  I remember him as being very warm and very nurturing towards me.  He was always encouraging me and trying to build up my confidence and self-esteem at a time when I didn’t think I was capable of very much.  Many years later, I found out that he had been an A-4 pilot during Vietnam.  The A-4 was the Navy’s primary attack aircraft and was used for close air support of ground troops.  It delivered napalm as well as bombs.  My friend had never mentioned to me that he was in Vietnam.  I only found out by accident many years later, long after we had lost touch, when I saw his Navy bio.  Looking back, I think he felt ashamed and was afraid to tell me – that if I found out about his background, I’d think he was a monster.

I’ve often wondered:  How many people did he kill in a typical sortie?  How many sorties did he fly over the course of the war?  How many people did he ultimately kill?  Was it hundreds?  Thousands?  What about the people who were left crippled and maimed or the destruction to the natural habitat?  He had volunteered and no doubt wanted to be a hero like the pilots who had flown in World War II a generation earlier.  What would it be like to go into the military thinking that you were going to be this knight in shining armor, fighting for fairness and justice – only to find yourself bombing villages in Vietnam?

And yet if he hadn’t completed his missions, how many of our soldiers would have died?  His job was to protect the ground troops, and he was willing to put his own life on the line to do it.  If he had been a pilot in World War II, he would have been treated like a hero.  Never mind that the bombing of Dresden was every bit as destructive as anything we did in Vietnam, let alone Hiroshima or Nagasaki.  Was my friend a hero or a perpetrator?  Even I don’t know the answer to that question.  I knew him as a gentle and nurturing man, a man who encouraged me to reach my potential at a time when I didn’t even know that I had potential. 

The thing to keep in mind is that human beings were made in G-d’s image.  Considering that man has a destructive as well as a creative side, is it any surprise that G-d should also have a dark and destructive side?

As human beings we cannot begin to understand the complexity or nature of other human beings let alone G-d.  We can only contemplate the Mystery, learn from the Scriptures, and try our best to be good people.  Perhaps Ecclesiastes said it best:

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace.

Shabbat Shalom