Throughout Jewish traditional and literature, the name of Moses’ big brother Aaron is synonymous with peace. A man of peace, he pursues the objective of establishing peace and is even prepared to sacrifice the absolute value of truth in order to achieve it. No wonder, then, that at Avot 1:12 we learn this from Hillel:
הֱוֵי
מִתַּלְמִידָיו שֶׁל אַהֲרֹן, אוֹהֵב שָׁלוֹם וְרוֹדֵף שָׁלוֹם, אוֹהֵב אֶת
הַבְּרִיּוֹת, וּמְקָרְבָן לַתּוֹרָה
Be among the disciples of Aaron—love
peace, pursue peace, one love people and draw them close to Torah.
Our tradition paints a picture of Aaron’s peace-making capabilities
that is too positive by far. It describes ways in which Aaron would achieve
peace between, for example, former friends who had fallen out with one another.
But in the big scheme of things we see a different side of things. There is no
suggestion that he might have been able to make peace between Moses and Dathan
and Aviram, Korach or any of the many unnamed complainers who accused Moses of incompetence
and mismanagement in his leadership role—and he does not appear to have
exercised his talents in drawing Moses closer to Pharaoh.
Aaron, I am happy to accept, was real—and I would not
challenge his credentials as a man of peace, an epithet that would seem to
befit him as well, if not better, as any other hero or heroine from the Tanach.
But in his real world, like Superman’s fictional one, peace was something that
could be achieved by a peace-making individual only on a micro-level, where one
addresses anger and hostility between specific individuals. That is no mean
achievement, but one cannot help craving more. If Aaron were alive today, would
we have any expectation that—other than through prayer—he had a strategy for
establishing peace between Israel and Hamas or (and sadly this might be even
harder) between the various factions in the current Israeli government?
Returning to our mishnah, Rabbi Norman Lamm (quoted by Rabbi
Mark Dratch in Foundations of Faith) has something provocative to say
about Hillel’s teaching. Noting that we should emulate Aaron by both loving and
pursuing peace, R’ Lamm raises a question asked and and answered by an unnamed
Chasidic master:
“Why both ‘love’ and ‘pursue’? Because…both
are necessary. When peace is at one with truth, not in conflict with justice,
then you, like Aaron, mut be an ohev shalom, a lover of peace’ but if
peace conflicts with truth and detracts from justice, then you must be a rodef
shalom, a pursuer of peace, ‘pursuing’ not in the sense of trying to
achieve it, but ‘pursuing’ in the sense of driving such peace from before you …
[S]ometimes love it, sometimes chase it away”.
Although I cannot recall any instance of Aaron actively
chasing peace away, I welcome this approach since it attempts to combine the
adoption with a morally justifiable position with a practical means of
resolving the imbalance between truth, peace, and justice. That truth, justice
and peace should be balanced is itself axiomatic: the axiom is contained
in the same chapter of Avot, only a little way on from the teaching of Hillel, where
we find his distinguished descendant Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel teaching (at
Avot 1:18):
עַל שְׁלֹשָׁה
דְבָרִים הָעוֹלָם קַיָּם: עַל הַדִּין, וְעַל הָאֱמֶת, וְעַל הַשָּׁלוֹם,
שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: אֱמֶת וּמִשְׁפַּט שָׁלוֹם שִׁפְטוּ בְּשַׁעֲרֵיכֶם
On three things is the world sustained: justice, truth and peace. As it
states: "Truth, and a judgement of peace, you should administer at your
[city] gates.''
That seems to say it all.
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