To the Editor:
Jeffrey K. Salkin is correct in pointing out that some Jews have used social action to create a shallow pseudo-Judaism (“Judaism Beyond Slogans,” February). It’s worth pointing out, however, that a universalistic approach to interpersonal and social kindness—chesed—isn’t antithetical to Orthodox Judaism but is, in fact, talmudically based. A couple of examples:  In Tractate Gittin, 61a, we find that the non-Jewish poor must be supported along with Jewish poor. Megilla 16a leads us to understand that non-Jewish wise people are to be venerated along with Jewish sages. There are many more. Moreover, the mitzvah of ahavat Yisrael V’Habriot (love of Jews and all Godly creations) is explicated in the Gemara as applying to non-Jews—to the world at large.  Reducing Judaism to slogans of any political bent is fatuous and erroneous. However, those whose fundamentalism leads them to an exclusionary, even xenophobic Judaism are similarly in error.
Jonathan Kellerman
Los Angeles, California 

To the Editor:
Jeffrey K. Salkin’s article is good but methodologically flawed. Efforts to “use” the past for present political purposes must always be suspect. This is particularly relevant to Rabbi Salkin’s praise for “Economic Justice for All: Pastoral Letter on Catholic Social Teaching and the U.S. Economy,” which was released by the United States Catholic Bishops in 1986. To imagine that researchers for Catholic Bishops were not instructed to identify texts that support the framers’ policy is naive. It’s like suggesting that judges do not instruct their clerks to find precedents that support the findings they have decided to make.
Bernard S. Bachrach
St. Paul, Minnesota

To the Editor:
Kudos to Rabbi Jeffery K. Salkin for taking a long-overdue and serious look at the exploitive use of biblical texts in justifying particular political policies. It is, of course, one thing to defend a policy by arguing its merits and to include a biblical verse in its support, but another to imply that the Bible mandates a particular policy by citing a vague biblical exhortation. Rabbi Salkin’s analysis of his four examples—“Justice, justice shall you pursue,” “Made in the image of God,” “Love the stranger,” and “Repair the world,” is comprehensive and to the point.

However, I find a statement about the phrase “made in God’s image” somewhat misleading. Rabbi Salkin states that “on the face of it we don’t quite know what the phrase means.” Perhaps not, but in matters of such theological significance, we cannot remain agnostic. Actually, theologians throughout the ages have had sufficient self-confidence to work their way to a credible understanding of this formative text, Genesis 1:27, which is not an exhortation but a description of the uniqueness of Homo sapiens—what distinguishes man from the beast. This belief of the origin of man is a fundamental concept of the theology of Judaism, at once the theoretical basis of morality, of human autonomy, free will, moral responsibility, and the source of the concept of the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man. What makes this problem solvable is that it is in part an empirical one. While we know little about God, we know a great deal about man, and that knowledge is growing. Together with the word tzelem (image), the Bible uses the word d’mut (likeness).

So what is it in man that makes him “like” God? At first, it was thought that “likeness” referred to man’s intellect because in this he seems to differ from the beast. Today, however, it is becoming increasingly clear that God’s constitutive gift to man is his very consciousness, experience of subjectivity, selfhood, and self-identity. And it is precisely the features of subjectivity (“I am the Lord”), will, purpose, righteousness, and compassion that characterize the God of the Bible. Thus all human beings are made with the potential for developing an autonomous self (image); not all, however, utilize their freedom to achieve a moral personality (likeness). Anyone who takes the Bible seriously must come to terms with Genesis 1:27. For sure, it is beyond being a slogan. It is knowable in the sense of being a consistent part of a cohesive theology of Judaism.

Shubert Spero
Jerusalem, Israel

Jeffrey K. Salkin writes:

I appreciate Jonathan Kellerman’s reminding us that classic Jewish texts (i.e., “Orthodox Judaism”) contain a universalistic ethic. He’s right, of course, and there are certainly times when it is necessary to emphasize those aspects of the tradition. I admire such Orthodox teachers as Erica Brown, Yitz Greenberg, Donniel Hartman, Avi Weiss, and Shmuly Yanklowitz, who give voice to such universalism. I wish that their influence would increase within the Orthodox community. So, too, I look forward to the day when we will be able to count more Orthodox women thinkers in that cohort.

Alas, Bernard S. Bachrach is also correct: There is no “pure” reading of a religious text. This is not mathematics, which (presumably) will always yield the same answer.

Nevertheless, when Deuteronomy suggests that we must rely on the judge “who will be in those (future) times,” a commentator responds: You have no choice but to rely on the judge who will live in your time. You can respond to texts only out of your own sociological context. At the very least, I wish that contemporary Jews would be more transparent in admitting their implicit biases in interpreting this vast tradition. Moreover, I’m increasingly attracted to rabbinic texts, rather than prophetic texts, as ways of discerning the nuances necessary for our times.

Finally, Shubert Spero, whose work I have long admired, believes that an interpretation of d’mut (the likeness of God) would help us better understand tzelem Elohim (the image of God). Acting like God (imitatio dei) might provide human beings with godlike ethical standards. My issue is still theological: What does it mean to actually be in God’s image? And how does that dictate my actions toward the person made in God’s image? This is where I bring Emmanuel Levinas into the conversation—his focus on the ability to discern the divine face in the face of the other.

My readers have offered critiques and correctives that underscore my central thesis: We cannot reduce the most crucial issues in Jewish political discourse to clichés and ideological bumper stickers.

Nevertheless, in the weeks since this article was published, I have become more convinced of some of my liberal ideals, especially the need to confront the violence in American society. Ultimately, the clarity of our actions will be more important than the clarity of our texts.