Friday, 10 July 2026

Jewish Values in a Time of War - Thoughts on the Strike-Back Against Midian - Mattot, Numbers 31

 




On Thursday night, I went to the London School of Jewish Studies, the central education arm of mainstream orthodoxy in this country, to listen to three Orthodox Israeli educators, in London for a major conference. They were asked to reflect on Jewish and Democratic Values in a Time of War. The event was hosted by the New Israel Fund to whom I’m grateful.

One of the speakers was Charedi – ultra-orthodox, the others Daati Leumi – national Zionist.

It was illuminating and impressive in a way, impressive that it was hosted at LSJS, impressive that the conference and this fringe event are happening at all.

But the main reflection of the Haredi speaker was that we shouldn’t blame the Haredim for all the things Haredim are getting blamed for.

The main reflection of one of the Daati Leumi speakers was that there is a big evil – the existential threat against Israel - and a smaller evil – Israel’s errors in attempting to defend itself from that threat – and we shouldn’t lose focus on the big evil.

And then the other Daati Leumi speaker – Rav Moshe Lichtenstein, the grandson of Rav Joseph Soloveitchik no less - spoke about failures of self-accountability and leadership. I think his critique was that the current political leadership of Israel haven’t taken responsibility for the way in which the attacks of 7th October were allowed to wrek such havoc inside the borders of Israel, it wasn’t entirely clear. I’ll come back to that.

I went, because I’ll take opportunities to learn from Israelis whenever I can – that, I think, is one of the morals of the story of the tribes of Reuven and Gad in this week’s parasha – you can’t live outside the Land of Israel and not do more to acknowledge the very real challenges faced by those who in the most literal sense live or die by their decision to live in the Land of Israel.

But as I was heading there and heading back and reflecting on what to share this Shabbat from this pulpit, I felt it just wasn’t a good enough response to the question of what are Jewish values in this time of war.

Especially in a week where we read, probably, my least favourite Chapter in the Torah – Chapter 31 of the Book of Numbers.

There is plotting against Israel, deceitful, mendacious plotting with a view to our destruction in ways violent, sexually transgressive and also, to be a little anachronistic – in the world of social influence. Let’s imagine Bilaam the Midianite, is the social influencer par excellence of his generation, a deceitful, manipulative, money-grabbing purveyor of populism.

And there is a defeat of the Midianite plot by means of a strike-back, from Israel, of brutal force. I know the term is loaded, but the Israelite strike-back against the Midianites who attacked Israel is genocidal.

All the men are murdered - וַיַּֽהַרְג֖וּ כׇּל־זָכָֽר – and when Moses hears this,

וַיִּקְצֹ֣ף מֹשֶׁ֔ה עַ֖ל פְּקוּדֵ֣י הֶחָ֑יִל

וַיֹּ֥אמֶר אֲלֵיהֶ֖ם מֹשֶׁ֑ה הַֽחִיִּיתֶ֖ם כׇּל־נְקֵבָֽה׃

Moses became angry with the military officers – and said to them, ‘you’ve let the women live’!?

And so some vast number of women are killed as well.

And the strike-back against Midian, recorded in Numbers 31 becomes a sort of template for the doctrine that seems part of Israel’s contemporary Jewish values in this time of war – the doctrine that if you come for us, we’ll come for you harder and if we don’t entirely wipe you out, we’ll leave you unable to come after us again.

And so, if you are looking to understand where Israel, the current Nation State, the one that has suffered such an egregious attack, grounds its morality in turning round to those outside the borders – who can never understand the reality of life inside the borders – and says to these people – how dare you criticise us.

And if you are looking to understand where Israel, the current Nation State, the one that has suffered such an egregious attack, gets its morality in conducting a strike-back against those who even associated by nationality with an egregious attack with brutal force –

You can find answers in this week’s Torah reading.

And what of the other point of view? - the point of view that finds no comfort in the Torah mandating the genocide of the Midianites.

Is this other view, frankly the view I hold, just some kind of wishy-washy liberalism that misses the central message of Judaism – you have to kill them before they kill you?

I think not.

I think the first thing to say about the genodical strike-back launched against the Midianites is that it doesn’t work, or at least it doesn’t work for very long. The Midianites pop up again in the Torah.

In Joshua Midian is back and subjugating Israel for seven years, stripping the Israelite harvests so people were forced to live in mountain caves. Gideon strikes back against the Midianites in that time, but then come other enemies who pop up, some more and some less frequently, some can be defeated militarily, and others can’t.

The destruction of the Temple in the Year 70CE – and we are in the midst of the Three Weeks – the anniversary of that defeat - if you read Josephus, has to do with a failure of the leadership of Israel to realise that pursuing a solely military response to the Romans was doomed to fail, and that the survival of Israel at all, was due to a more sophisticated, softer form of diplomacy – Yochanan Ben Zakai went to the leader of the Romans and negotiated a way for the people of Israel to survive.

Shaul Maggid wrote in a Substack, that, “The entire framework of what we call Judaism emerged in the wake of destruction [of the Temple in Jerusalem. That framework] was a set of values and an ethos that, while not pacifist, eschewed the state violence to which the Jews were victim, and developed a way of surviving catastrophe through living in a covenantal promise of divine protection through fidelity to Torah.”

It’s not that violence never has a place, but that we, as Jews, found ways to respond to the violent threat of those who hate us without always resorting or seeking to resort to overwhelming violence. Sometimes, the softer more diplomatic efforts worked for longer periods of times, sometimes shorter periods of time and sometimes they didn’t work at all. But then the same can be said of the effectiveness of the resort to overwhelming violence.

The point is that we developed sophisticated responses to even the most egregious enemies. Judaism didn’t develop as a faith predicated on the over-ridingly violent response to violence every time we experienced violence. In fact, by and large, we eschewed violent response to egregious actions, even when the Torah mandates otherwise.

There are a slew of deeply morally and ethically awful things that Torah attempts to solve with violence; stubborn and rebellious children, adulterous wives, cities of idolatry and the like, and time and time again Judaism evolved away from the primal, literal understanding of – if you do something awful, I will do something more awful back. Even the very sharpest articulation of a violent response to someone who wishes us harm – the Din Rodef, gets contained and limited and bound into a place where it is not allowed to motivate the violent response to the threat of violence.

Let do that a bit more carefully.

Din Rodef is drawn from a line in Exodus about discovering someone breaking into your house at nighttime. The rabbis make an assumption that a day-time thief thinks there’s no-one at home, they only want your property – you can’t kill them claiming the protection of this law of Rodef, but a night-time burglar thinks you are going to be in, and that means they need to be ready to deal with you – and so you should have the protection to hashken lehorgo.

But no sooner than the Rabbis articulate that idea, they are limiting it, placing equivocation on it, warning that it’s not a carte-blanche to avail ethical responsibility for unjustifiable violence. For there can be no carte-blanche to avoid ethical responsibility for unjustifiable violence. That is the central Jewish value even in, especially in, a time of war.

And then there’s the thing that Rav Lichtenstein said about accountability and leadership. It’s not enough, I think, to expect the leaders of Israel show accountability for the failures that resulted in the atrocities of October 7th – though goodness only knows, that would be a start.

I think the leaders of Israel should show accountability for the failure to seek and articulate anything other than hatred for Palestinians.

I follow a fascinating Chareidi Rav on Istagram – Rav Avraham Mordechai Gottlieb, a scion of The Ashlag. He recently shared this idea https://www.instagram.com/ravgotliv/

People, he suggested, are quick to hate the Rashanut – the wickedness in others, and quick to draw attention to the Tzidkaniyut – the righteousness in ourselves. But we have it backwards, he suggests. We should rush to love the Tzidkaniyut in others and hate the Rashanut in ourselves.

I think it’s a brilliant observation. We are so quick to point out others’ flaws that we don’t stop to consider ourselves as people containing – as all humans do, a balance of both righteousness and wickedness. And we don’t stop to consider even our enemies contain - as all humans do - a balance of righteousness and wickedness.

Violence might sometimes be justifiable. It might be necessary to strike back violently when we are attacked. But to justify the violence we need to do more than hate the wickedness in others. We need to hate the wickedness in ourselves, the wickedness that inflames a passion to strike back harder against anyone who strikes at us, that responds with an iota more brutality than is absolutely required.

And to show accountability for that wickedness in ourselves, we need to welcome accountability and scrutiny, and oversight. We can’t simultaneously justify our acts of violence and seek to shut down the scrutiny. If we do, we risk persuading ourselves that our acts of violence are justified when they might not be.

There’s a rabbinic tradition about anger and violence and the strike-back against the Midianites.

When soldiers come back to report they have slayed all the Midianite men

וַיִּקְצֹ֣ף מֹשֶׁ֔ה עַ֖ל פְּקוּדֵ֣י הֶחָ֑יִל

Moses was angry with the military officers

וַיֹּ֥אמֶר אֲלֵיהֶ֖ם מֹשֶׁ֑ה הַֽחִיִּיתֶ֖ם כׇּל־נְקֵבָֽה׃

And he calls for the death of the women as well.

In the Torah, this passage is followed by a passage in which a rule about ritual purity is taught to the Children of Israel not by Moses, but by his nephew, Elazar.

And the Talmud, in Pesachim 66b[1] says Elazar is the one to pass on this teaching since Moshe just advocated for violence in anger – Moses’ anger resulted in the teaching being hidden from him

אִיעֲלַם מִינֵּיהּ.

Moshe lost the ability to be a holy leader because he advocated for violence in anger

“As Reish Lakish teaches כׇּל אָדָם שֶׁכּוֹעֵס חׇכְמָתוֹ [ונְבוּאָתוֹ]

מִסְתַּלֶּקֶת מִמֶּנּוּ,

If a person loses their temper, even a wise person or a prophet, their wisdom and their prophetic insight depart from them.”

It’s easy to be angered when someone does something atrocious and people we love are hurt – but we cannot justify striking back in anger. We have to learn to sublimate that rising up of righteous indignation for our own righteousness, for it so, so rarely will be righteous.

That’s another Jewish value in a time of war.

The angry genocidal instruction to wipe out the Midianites isn’t left to stand as a model for our time. It can’t be a model of our time. Judaism has evolved away from allowing it to be a model for our time. There are other paths, challenging yes, requiring us to force back the rush of anger that rises in us, yes, requiring us to refuse to focus on hating our foes, even if our foes hate us, yes.

But so be it.

For the other option is to be locked into cycles of violence that go back to the time of the Midianites and still, God help us all, cycle through until today.

Shabbat Shalom

Monday, 6 July 2026

The Biggest Organising Principle in the Torah

 I came across, this week, a new version – to me - of an old argument.

The old argument, between two rabbis both of whom have been dead for almost 2000 years is about the Klal Gadol BaTorah – the central organising principle of the Torah.

If you could strip the entire Jewish tradition back to just one verse – what would you go for.

 

Rabbi Akiva, says that the Klal Gadol -greatest organising principle of the Torah is Love your neighbour as yourself – Vahavta LeReicha Camocha – Lev 19:18.  It’s a popular answer. It comes in amongst the top two verses Jesus goes for in the Parable of the Good Samaritan.

But Ben Azzai has a different suggestion, and his verse from Genesis 5:1) is less well known.

Zeh sefer toledot adam beyom b’ra elohim adam bidmut elohim asa oto.

This is the book of the descendents of Adam on the day God created Adam in the image God.

It’s an odd verse. For a start it doesn’t seem to demand anything, doesn’t seem to get a person to do anything.

But I think Ben Azzai has the same problem, or maybe the same three problems with Akiva’s favourite verse, Jesus’ favourite verse as I do.

Vahavta LeReicha Camocha – Love your neighbour as yourself sounds great,

Problem One

What if you don’t love yourself? What about people experiencing a darkness in terms of how they think of themselves?

Problem Two

What if the thing you love actually causes other people pain? Should you do painful things to other people just because you like them being done to you?

And the biggest problem of them all

What if you can look at another human being and decide – they aren’t my neighbour?

What if you look at someone and because, I don’t know, of the colour of their skin, or their sexuality, or their passport, or their religion, that they aren’t your neighbour – Loving your neighbour as you love yourself isn’t going to stop a person from being sexist, racist, antisemitic or any of the rest of it.

I think it’s pretty clear that Rabbi Akivah would never countenance sexism, racism or any of the rest of it, but there are these three problems with his Klal Gadol.

That’s what I think Ben Azzai knew when he said that the greatest Klal in the Torah is

Zeh sefer toledot adam beyom b’ra elohim adam bidmut elohim asa oto.

This strange, not very famous verse that tells us that every human being is created in the Image of the Divine and that we all descend from the same Adam – the same first human being.

So even if you are feeling a darkness, courage!, you are made in the Image of God.

So when it comes to how we treat other people, the really important thing to know is that they too are created in the image of God, and therefore if we cause them pain, in their unique different never-been-seen-before ways of experience joy or pain, if we cause them pain we diminish the image of God in the world. Whoof – now that’s a reason to care about how we treat our fellow human beings.

And you, you just can’t treat another human being as worth less than you, for any reason, and certainly not based on their gender or sexuality or faith or skin colour, because they – just as you – are equally in the image of the one God who transcends all this human pettiness.

 

Well that’s the old version of the argument about the Klal Gadol B’Torah between Rabbi Akiva and Ben Azzai. It turns up in a Midrash called the Sifra which is around 1800 years old.

 

And then, this week, I came across a new version of the argument, my thanks to Rabbi Sammy Rubin. And Rabbi Sammy found it in something written by Rabbi Sacks, and Rabbi Sacks, found it in a collection of teachings of great Rabbi of C16 Prague, Yehuda Low.[1]

In this new-to-me version of the argument there’s another disputant, Shimon Ben Pazzi, who gets up and suggests a he’s got an even greater Klal than Rabbi Akiva and Ben Azzai.

That takes a lot of guts – the bar is set, already, pretty high.

But Shimon Ben Pazzi’s verse comes from the Torah reading we read today – Parshat Pinhas, so, hold on to your kippot – what’s he got?

אֶת־הַכֶּ֥בֶשׂ אֶחָ֖ד תַּעֲשֶׂ֣ה בַבֹּ֑קֶר וְאֵת֙ הַכֶּ֣בֶשׂ הַשֵּׁנִ֔י תַּעֲשֶׂ֖ה בֵּ֥ין הָֽעַרְבָּֽיִם׃

You shall offer one lamb in the morning, and the other lamb you shall offer at twilight.

You’ve got to be kidding.

With a choice of Loving your neighbour as yourself, and the creation of every human being in the image of God, Shimon Ben Pazzi goes for

אֶת־הַכֶּ֥בֶשׂ אֶחָ֖ד תַּעֲשֶׂ֣ה בַבֹּ֑קֶר וְאֵת֙ הַכֶּ֣בֶשׂ הַשֵּׁנִ֔י תַּעֲשֶׂ֖ה בֵּ֥ין הָֽעַרְבָּֽיִם׃

You shall offer one lamb in the morning, and the other lamb you shall offer at twilight.

Give him a second. He’s on to something.

This verse – Numbers 28:4 is a call to service, a call to be prepared to make a sacrifice. Interestingly the sacrifice is the daily sacrifice – the twice daily sacrifice. It’s not the weekly Shabbat special offering or the in a while special festival offering. It’s a command to show us and Lkarev – The Hebrew is usually translated as to make a sacrifice, but really it means to come close, to turn up twice a day for life.

And the more I think about it, the more I think its brilliant.

Because I don’t really care if a person do the right thing once. Anyone can be nice once. Shira, as amazingly as you’ve done today, you’ve done it once. And the real test is – what you are you going to do tomorrow?

And this thing that we are to do – this lamb offering, it’s a sort of charitable gift, it’s pitched, right about here; neither so incredibly complex that we could never hope to meet the standard of our very very best effort, but nor is it a soft-option, something that doesn’t pull in effort and attention.

It’s the sort of Jewish equivalent of trying to do a good deed every morning and every evening. It’s the sort of Jewish equivalent of getting up every morning and going to be every evening saying the Shema, or making regular charitable contributions, or decisions to keep pushing at the things we know we should be doing with our life, that can feel a little repetitive or less immediately gratifying than, I don’t know, Youtube or buying the latest plastic tat on Amazon.

What I think Shimon Ben Pazzi is asking us is to try every morning and every evening to live up to the miracle that is our life. He’s asking us to commit to try every morning and every evening to live out our values and sense of who we want to be. Or perhaps more precisely he’s saying that this level of commitment, this is the Klal Gadol BaTorah – the central organising principle of the Torah.

And that’s a big ask in a complex time.

We live in a time where the central organising principle of secular society is live your own best life – as if self-centred immediate gratification isn’t, in fact the greatest danger we humans pose to each other and the planet we live. We would be much better swapping that principle for Rabbi Akiva’s loving your neighbour as you love yourself, for Ben Azzai’s principle about the creation of every human being in the image of God and certainly Shimon Ben Pazzi’s principle drawn from this week’s Parasha of אֶת־הַכֶּ֥בֶשׂ אֶחָ֖ד תַּעֲשֶׂ֣ה בַבֹּ֑קֶר וְאֵת֙ הַכֶּ֣בֶשׂ הַשֵּׁנִ֔י תַּעֲשֶׂ֖ה בֵּ֥ין הָֽעַרְבָּֽיִם׃.

Shabbat Shalom

Friday, 3 July 2026

Please Use AI, by Jo Atkins-Potts

I was taken by this poem;



read– so it seems - by a real human and written by a real human also.

Please use AI when your mother dies.

Ask it what grief feels like

Let it explain bereavement in 12 clear bullet points

Do not spend years finding her in the supermarket by the tomatoes she always bought.

Discovering new ways to miss her.


Please use AI the next time you fall in love.

Ask it how to know whether someone is the one.

It will give you a faster answer than watching a person become familiar

Learning how they take their tea, which floorboards will wake them, how their silence sounds when something is wrong.


Please use AI for your wedding vows, your eulogies, your apologies

Why struggle for the right words when a machine can give you beautiful ones?

I was struck, listening to Atkins-Potts’ poetry, by the religious nature of the tasks she ‘suggests’ for AI; grief, love, marriages, funerals. It’s certainly the case that I’m increasingly aware of AI ‘improved’ speeches as I accompany members from cradle to grave and how different they feel to old-school human written articulations. It’s true for example, that the AI ‘improved’ speeches are, precisely in the sense Atkins-Potts suggests, ‘better’ than their human-written counterparts. They are smoother. There is a success about their structure and length, and the ticking of all the right boxes. But these AI ‘improved’ speeches contain no grit.

I don’t mind lovers or mourners resorting to AI support when the emotions are beyond our ability to craft. But I prefer the way of our tradition, which offers the simplest, briefest ritual holder to allow a moment to be recognised before life will prove how much we remember, or mourn, or love; “you are betrothed to me with this ring,” is the only thing a lover says under the Chuppah. “I wish you a long life,” is the only thing that needs to be said at a Shiva. And then the real test is revealed as life moves forward. As Golda observes in Fiddler on the Roof, “after 25 years...”

The really important thing is not to run away from or down-value the necessary messiness of human life, not to elevate the value of “smoothness” above its more human counterpart, not to confuse successful structure, length and balance with honesty. Honesty and humanity, especially in the most important (and religious) parts of our lives, will be gritty, uneven and probably a little overlong. That, I believe – and I hope you’ve read this far – is the point.

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