People are having a hard time agreeing with their neighbors nowadays, but that should not make us opponents.
Rarely has American society suffered from such social and political upheaval — in such a concentrated amount of time — as it has in the last few years. Contention and divisiveness between political parties has created a society that is polarized to the nth degree. The scourge of racism, anti-semitism, xenophobia and other forms of intolerance, which go against everything we stand for as a nation, has reared its ugly head repeatedly, bringing divisiveness rooted in baseless hatred.
The pandemic has divided us even further, and some of us no longer judge our neighbors by who they are, but by whether they hold the same opinions regarding public health policy and the government’s handling of the pandemic: masks or no masks, vaccine mandates or not. COVID has not only deepened these ideological fissures, but it has had a deeply worrisome divisive effect on our relationships on all fronts.
As a rabbi, I experience this polarization firsthand, and many have wondered aloud to me, “Why can’t we all just get along?” Must we all think the same to respect each other?
Judaism teaches us the value in deeply held, but mutually respectful opposition. After all, what would the Talmud be if it weren’t for consistent debates and disagreements between the sages? Torah scholarship is indeed filled with differing opinions and holds starkly opposing ideologies within its constructs.
Our sages teach us that there are 70 facets: 70 levels of depth and meaning to the Torah. Difference of opinion and diversity is not to be viewed as negative in and of itself, but instead cherished as a positive contribution; one necessary to arriving at the ultimate truth.
We can disagree with one another without disrespecting one another.
April 12 will mark the 120th anniversary of the birth of the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory. He was born four days before Passover on the 11th of Nissan. The Rebbe highlighted the force that unites society, while still preserving the uniqueness of the individual. Diversity and unity are not a contradiction, the Rebbe taught, because our differences complement each other to comprise a greater whole. We ought to value our differences and agree to disagree — respectfully and without bias.
On a more essential level, the Rebbe emphasized that we were all created in G-d’s divine image and possess a part of Him within us — a soul. This unifying feature allows us to stand united despite our differences. We are still intrinsically connected simply by virtue of our common humanity, by virtue of our soul, regardless of our political positions. No disagreement can ever diminish this essential bond. Think of it like a symphony: If there was only one instrument, there’d be no orchestra. We can thrive off our differences without becoming enemies.
History has taught us that when ideology dictates one’s value, humanity begins to sink. The Rebbe taught us that our value is of far greater worth, and that nothing we think or say can alter our true intrinsic value as people who have a Godly soul. When you respect someone with whom you have a deeply felt disagreement, you are not respecting their opinion, but rather their soul. An ideological or political opinion does not make up the sum of a person.
The Rebbe, who lived and taught by example, was the embodiment of this premise. He met and guided people from all nationalities, religions, and races, and thereby conveyed the message that we are fundamentally one, regardless of our opinions. And that’s how the Rebbe taught us to view the world: as comprising a multitude of opinions — opinions all held by creations of the same G-d.
Yes, we hold vastly different opinions. But that should not serve as a paradox to unity.
Rabbi Benny Zippel is executive director of the Chabad Lubavitch of Utah.