Bo
The tenth and final plague is wrenching. Who among us could imagine a worse
punishment? The death of a child is
every parent’s worst nightmare. It was
Pharaoh’s as well.
“In the middle of the night the
Lord struck down all the first-born in the land of Egypt, from the first-born
of Pharaoh who sat on the throne to the first-born of the captive who was in
the dungeon, and all the first-born of the cattle. And Pharaoh arose in the night, with all his
courtiers and all the Egyptians—because there was a loud cry in Egypt; for
there was no house where there was not someone dead.” (Exodus 12:29-30)
Such is the suffering of my
enemies. The years in which we now live have given rise to many would be
Pharaohs who seek to destroy all that we love.
There are too many who declare themselves our enemies. Even though much has been accomplished to
forestall their designs, we must remain forever vigilant. Yet I wonder, can we sympathize with the pain
of these Pharaohs while still remaining vigilant?
Let us be clear about the moral questions we face. It is legitimate to kill our enemies. Our nation’s leaders must continue to make every effort to protect us. The Talmud admonishes us: “If someone comes to kill you, get up earlier to kill him first.” Yet there is a moral distinction between the legitimacy of killing our enemies and celebrating this fact. The celebration of the death of any human being is an act to be shunned. Judaism teaches that all human beings are created in God’s image. No one is greater than another because all human beings are descended from the same parents, namely Adam and Eve. All life is precious. Every life is of equal value.
Let us be clear about the moral questions we face. It is legitimate to kill our enemies. Our nation’s leaders must continue to make every effort to protect us. The Talmud admonishes us: “If someone comes to kill you, get up earlier to kill him first.” Yet there is a moral distinction between the legitimacy of killing our enemies and celebrating this fact. The celebration of the death of any human being is an act to be shunned. Judaism teaches that all human beings are created in God’s image. No one is greater than another because all human beings are descended from the same parents, namely Adam and Eve. All life is precious. Every life is of equal value.
We should be filled with
remorse that we are forced to kill others in order to protect ourselves. There is as well a distinction between
killing to protect our nation’s citizens and killing to mete out justice. In a democracy justice must remain the
province of the courts not the military.
We have every moral right to kill in order to protect. We do not have this same right to kill quickly
and decisively in order to punish. The
killing, for example, of Osama bin Laden (y”s) was justified because it helps
to prevent his minions from attacking us again.
We might never again be victimized by his genocidal aims.
It felt satisfying however
because it appeared just punishment for his responsibility in the murder of our
fellow New Yorkers, the far too many innocent people who were so ruthlessly
murdered on 9-11. This emotional satisfaction
confounds our ethical judgments. It
comes to masquerade as moral legitimacy.
Make no mistake. Punishment can
only be justified when sanctioned by courts of justice, never by force of
arms.
I expect the military to
protect me. I expect judges and juries
to punish those who wrong me.
Thus Pharaoh’s pain and
suffering appears unjustified. Forgive
my chutzpah but the tenth plague seems unwarranted and overly harsh. How can any wrong justify the taking of the life
of a child, even the child of one as evil as Pharaoh, even the child of the
enemy who seeks my destruction?
These deaths satisfy only our
emotional need for punishment at best, and revenge at worst. The death of these countless Egyptians might
be emotionally satisfying, but remain morally illegitimate. Our tradition of course insists that we not
celebrate their deaths. At our seders we
remove a drop of wine to signify the lessening of our joy. We recognize the suffering even of our
tormentors. But can there ever be enough
drops taken from our cups of wine to render this act legitimate?
Today we can have sympathy for the suffering of our enemies
while not shying away from what must be done to protect ourselves. We must
teach over and over again that it is never a sign of weakness to have sympathy
for someone else’s pain.
We sympathize even with the
pain of our enemies. Still we refuse to
ask the most important questions facing our age. Everyday we read in our papers that another
was killed in this never-ending war on terror, we must ask was this killing
justified? Did it live up to the moral
measure of offering us more protection?
Or was it merely done to satisfy our emotional need for immediate
punishment?
These are the questions of
today. Dare we ask these questions of
our Torah as well?