Dina de’Malchuta
Dina
Rabbi Gary S. Creditor
June 12,
2002
While that which I am about to relate is not a perfect match to
the larger issue I shall address, it is close enough for me to
use as an illustration.
In my first pulpit after my ordination I was informed that it
was possible that children in a family in my congregation
were being abused. The alleged perpetrators who were Jewish were
neither clergy nor school personnel. But I as the Rabbi had immediate
knowledge of the allegation. In fact, I was the first person to
whom the informant turned. I was very young. Menachem was a year
old. What was I supposed to do? Back then this
issue made the back pages and not the front ones. My natural inclination
was to “rush like the cavalry” and “save” the
children. My second response was complete fear of the unknown.
Lastly, I was smart enough to realize that I didn’t know
anything about these matters and that I could only make things
worse. My deeper perplexity was enmeshed in the following questions:
What was I supposed to do as a Rabbi?
What was my obligation under Jewish law?
Did my title “Rabbi” make any obligation to
civil law?
Did my title “Rabbi” give me any immunity
from action by civil law?
Was I just supposed to worry about myself and remain silent,
play dumb?
With the phrase “hear no evil, see no evil…” and
do nothing?
I felt that I was awfully young to be saddled with such a terrible
situation. In these days I have remembered the dilemma of my youthful
ministry. It is painfully similar to that which has confronted
the Church leadership and led to these disastrous results.
First let me explain two terms. Civil law is
juxtaposed to religious/ritual law. Civil law
includes criminal law. Civil law is any non-Jewish law.
We call it “the law of the land” or “dina
de’Malchuta.” The other term, in church lexicon
is Canon Law. We refer to ours as Jewish
Law. That can either be Biblical, d’oraitta,
or Rabbinic, d’rabbanan. Jewish Rabbinic
law continues to develop to this very day, encompassing all current
issues. There are significant differences in how Judaism and the
Catholic Church interact with “the law of the land.” This
will indicate how and why I dealt with my dilemma.
Articulated through Jewish law, Judaism holds that the fundamental
commandment – mitzvah – is pikuach
nefesh – saving a life. This commandment overrides
every ritual commandment. I/we are commanded to
violate Shabbat, to violate even Yom Kippur, in order to save a
life. In Judaism there is no ritual shield to
restrain or inhibit my/our actions from saving a life. For all
of us who are parents, from the first moment we see our newborn
to the last breathe within us, protecting them from harm is the first and supreme
law to which we respond. The unique, distinct and most
honored part of being a Rabbi is to see your children as “our
children.” As precious as they are to you, they
are to us. As much as I would protect mine, I would protect yours.
I was right in my initial impulse. My blood curdled when I was
first informed. I wanted to protect those children, as I wanted
to protect Menachem. I can’t fathom any person in position
of responsibility, and particularly those in positions of religious
leadership, who could see the world in any other way. Pikuach
nefesh is the supreme mitzvah. Protecting children is
the supreme of the supreme. That a person in any level of religious
leadership could harm a child or enable others to do so, from a
Jewish moral and legal perspective, is incomprehensible.
I will say that I did not rush
to that house and bang on the door. The fear of not knowing what
I was doing and the fear of being prosecuted for false accusations
stopped me in my tracks. But I did know something else. I understood
that my Rabbinic position obligated
me as a Rabbi to turn to the civil authorities, to the police,
for this was a matter of a crime. This is learned from
the Rabbinic dictum: “dina de’Malchuta dina,” “the
law of the land is the law.”
For nearly two thousand years Jewish law and Jewish societal
norms developed as we were a minority living in the larger context
of the Diaspora. Every country, every local ruler, had their own
laws. How were we to live under two law codes that could differ,
often significantly? What were we to do? Our sages
decided that our obligation to the “king’s law” extends
not only to Jewish kings, but to non-Jewish monarchs as
well. We learn in the Torah about of Noah that all humanity
was commanded to institute justice, and that is
done through the establishment of laws. Thus, the
law code of the United States should be/must be observed because
it fulfills God’s command in the Torah. As a Rabbi
our Judaism teaches that I am under the law and not
outside it. While simplistic, in its succinctness, this
statement as it applies to my topic tonight, is true. Rabbi
Zevi Hirsch Chajes developed the position that we must obey the
edicts of a non-Jewish monarch because otherwise anarchy would
be widespread, endangering all society. If we
claimed exclusion from observing the laws of the United States
because of our religious law, we would all be threatened. In light
of ongoing developments in the Catholic Church, we can see how
perceptive Rabbi Chajes was. Let me summarize: I as a Rabbi, this
synagogue as a synagogue and all who work in it, cannot claim to
hide behind our faith in silence when knowledgeable about a crime.
Judaism commands us as it commands every citizen,
to enable the protection of society by doing what
is proper, by going to the police.
A recent article in the New York Times raised another angle to
explain Church silence. If a Church official would have to call
the police when they might know of a crime it would compromise
the ability of the Church to dispense forgiveness allow the sinner
to repent and find salvation. This is a matter of canon law. Our
Jewish position is quite different. Salvation comes from God in
His own time and way. Repentance is received when I atone, acknowledging
my sin and changing my ways. When I sin against God, I acknowledge
to Him my sin and ask Him to forgive me. When I sin against a human
being, I have to ask that person to forgive me and
not God. Only then and by them can I be forgiven. Repentance
is first a process by human beings with human beings. Only secondly
is it between human beings and God. Salvation is found in my being
a better human being and making this a better world. As
a Rabbi I don’t dispense anything. I too, have to ask God.
I too, have to ask others. You don’t confess to me and I
don’t confess to you. We all have to do this to improve ourselves
and the world. Judaism teaches culpability for crime. There is
a whole structure of punishments to fit the crime. Punishment is
meted out to punish the wrong doer and also as expiation, to cleanse
the land that has been wronged. Our country is in need of great
cleansing from these sins.
So what did I do so long ago that I remember it as yesterday?
I went to the public school where the children were enrolled and
spoke to principal and told him what I knew and who told me. He
had the staff, the legal protection, the county services and the
police to utilize and do what needed to be done in a proper and
legal manner. I did not hide behind our faith. I didn’t try
to find otherworldly salvation. I tried to save two children from
earthly, bodily harm. And in short time they were taken from their
parents. Having left that community long ago I do not know the
postscript to that story. Perhaps it is better that way. I hope
that all who are ever privy to such knowledge will realize and
accept our values that the protection of human beings is a primary
mitzvah and protection of children is the choicest of that.
May proper justice be meted out to all who harmed the children
under their care and influence.
May expiation for sin be done through punishment.
If beyond the reach of the law, may the conscience bother all
those who, in silence, enabled these sins to continue.
May God admonish them at night.
May those harmed know true healing from a loving God.
Amen.
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