This past Monday, I had the opportunity to attend a program sponsored by Na’aleh, our local organization that supports and fosters leadership development in the Jewish community. It was wonderful to be there with so many folks from across the Baltimore Jewish community (including our own vice-chair, Debbie Steinig). The program, Beyond Dispute - Leading Through Dialogue, was founded on the idea that disputes and arguments are inevitable. Making our way through these situations requires being able to hold tension, navigate differences, and invite others into meaningful dialogue.

These are ideas that should sound familiar to us – as a community, we’ve been learning about and practicing how to engage in courageous conversations on topics where we have strong disagreement. And we’ve begun to incorporate these practices into our community conversations. We’ve worked to listen to each other without judgment, engage our curiosity about another’s perspective and experience, and become more open to multiple iterations of right and wrong. Our learning in this area stems from our desire to increase our cohesiveness as a community, knowing that we will all encounter moments when we disagree with each other, sometimes passionately. 

The facilitator of Monday’s program, Abi Dauber-Sterne, shared a story about an experience she had in the early days of working with people on dialogue across disagreement. She said that she and her co-teachers brought a number of controversial topics for discussion, expecting their participants to have many differing opinions. Predicting that arguments would ensue, they would then work with the participants to improve their arguing skills, transforming the conversation into one of open-hearted listening and dialogue. 

What happened, though, is that there were no arguments – because no one really talked. It seemed that the participants were afraid to share their true opinions with each other, worrying that they would be judged for holding unpopular opinions, or find points of incompatibility with others they previously knew as friends. Arguing can be terrible, but silence can be even worse. When we forfeit the opportunity to share our opinions with others, we lose the chance to know each other more deeply, to strengthen the network of connections that holds our community together. 

And speaking up, engaging in disagreements and arguments, is encoded in our Jewish DNA, both culturally and religiously. This week, in our Torah reading, we see this character trait at work in our founding father of arguing – Avraham. Parashat Vayera begins with Avraham greeting messengers from God, who give him the astounding prediction that his son Isaac will be born in the coming year. After he receives this news, the scene shifts, with God sharing less welcome news with Avraham - that the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah are so wicked that God wants to destroy them. 

Avraham is not cowed by the power inherent in God’s declaration. Instead, he steps forward and argues for the cities, asking God to save them on behalf of any righteous people who may be living there. He doesn’t shy away from strong words: “Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?” (Genesis 18:25) We see Avraham’s passion, his brazenness, in coming before God to argue. But his approach in arguing is more nuanced than that. The Midrash, in Bereishit Rabbah (49:8), teaches that approaching, as Avraham did with God to argue, can have multiple meanings. One can approach as in war, to do battle and defeat the other. Once can approach in conciliation, trying to win over the other, getting them on your side and making peace. One can approach in prayer, seeking connection with that which is greater than ourselves. Avraham, the midrash says, was ready for it all: “Rabbi Elazar interpreted it: [Avraham said:] ‘If it entails battle, I am coming; if it entails conciliation, I am coming; if it entails prayer, I am coming.’”

Avraham’s argument, we know, was not successful, at least not in terms of changing God’s plans. The next scene in the text tells of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. It was, however, a great success in a number of other ways. Avraham was courageous, sharing his true opinions despite knowing that God disagreed. He listened carefully, engaging in conversation with God rather than an unending back and forth. He did not let this major point of disagreement destroy his connection to God. His argument with God was not the end of their relationship; it was just one moment. 

With Avraham as our example, we’re looking forward to opportunities ahead where we can deepen our learning on how to argue well and to create dialogue across disagreement. As we began speaking about more in earnest this past year, we will continue to explore how our congregation serves as a welcoming presence for multi-faith families – and how we can become more so. I’ll be speaking about this issue a few times in the coming months on Shabbat mornings, and we’ll also make it a main focus of our upcoming Community Meeting, which is happening on Sunday, November 16. I hope to see you there, to learn from each other, listen to each other, and share with each other.

Shabbat shalom.