The Sceptic Blog

1: So I come home from synagogue after an intense three days of Rosh Hashanah plus Shabbos, with the New Year liturgy endlessly reverberating around my head, sharply focused on humanity and universalism, on examining the human condition and human potential, and on yearning for a world in which every human being comes together in recognition of a universal siblinghood under the reign of a single God whose core values are compassion, understanding and mercy.

2: And I reopen my computer and look at the news and my social media feeds: and everything is about taking sides – and I’m not on your side unless I hate everyone else as much as you do. I cannot see your right unless I see everybody’s else’s wrong: any attempt at shade, nuance or balance is seen as disloyalty to your fundamentalism.

3: And an enormous amount of this hatred and division is in the name of unity: show your solidarity with this group by condemning that group; stand with this group by condemning that group; take up this cause by denouncing that cause. Everywhere I look I see experts (most of them self-appointed) in politics, military strategy, international history, statecraft, diplomacy and every other area of expertise imaginable – and in each case their knowledge or lack of knowledge points inexorably in one direction: sectarian hatred and intolerance of one kind or another.

4: So I close my eyes and try to recapture the message of the last three days in synagogue. Abraham brought two things to the world: belief in a single God, and kindness (chessed). And the connection is obvious: if there are lots of Gods, I want to know whose is most powerful and can “beat” the others: if there is one God who created us all, we are all siblings, and we have the most powerful possible reason to show care and compassion for all humanity.

5: The sound of the shofar is the purest form of prayer possible: the unrefined cry of a lost and bewildered child. And the enduring images of the Rosh Hashanah liturgy are of Yishmael crying out and being heard by God simply because he is a child in distress; of Hannah being listened to by God and having her prayers answered simply because she is a person in distress; of Noah’s ultimate moral failure because of choosing self-righteous certainty over compassion for the weak who lack in moral direction; and on and on and on until the Messianic promise of peace on earth and a Third Temple which is “My house which shall be known as a house of prayer for all peoples”.

6: And so I come to my New Year’s resolution. This year I will try to show unity (achdus) with every group that needs my support: but I will not show you support if it requires me to hate others, or even if it requires me to exclude others.

7: No orphan’s cry pierces the Heavens less powerfully than any other’s. No widow’s or widower’s tears arouse more compassion in the Heavens than any others’. No captive dragged from their home and family, not because of what they have done in the eyes of the law but because of who they are in the eyes of those who hate, deserves more pity than any other.

8: So I will rally to any banner that shows humanity and pity, if it does not lead to hate: but if you want me to hate in the cause of unity, whoever you are, you are the problem and not the solution.

9: My solution this year will be to try to focus on others’ loss, pain and suffering as widely and as universally as possible: to ask myself each time I listen to one person’s cry: “Who else is experiencing the same or similar suffering?” I will try to balance my concern and compassion so that I am seeing the widest possible picture: not strengthening sectarian walls between groups however defined or classified, but simply building bridges between human beings.