We Know Good and Evil. Why Can’t We Choose Life?
When being right becomes the goal, relationships become collateral damage.
Recently, I wanted to raise the subject of Israel’s military draft with my Haredi sister.
I served in the Israeli army. She belongs to a community that understands Torah study and military service very differently. For both of us, the issue touches something fundamental: equality, sacrifice, religious identity and Israel’s future.
Part of me wanted a debate. I had arguments ready. I wanted to challenge her assumptions and explain why I believed my position was right.
Instead, I tried to broach the subject gently and with love.
I did not hold back because I was afraid of disagreement or uncertain about what I believed. I chose a different tone because I valued our relationship. Nothing I said would enlist a single soldier, change the status of a single yeshiva student or alter one vote in the Knesset. But the way I spoke could change what happened between us.
That did not mean avoiding the issue or pretending our differences were insignificant. It meant asking a harder question: Could I speak honestly without turning my sister into a symbol of everything I believed was wrong? Could I seek understanding without demanding agreement? Could we remain brother and sister while discussing something that reaches deeply into both our identities?
Not every conversation can change the issue being discussed. Every conversation can change the relationship in which it occurs.
Our culture is addicted to moral certainty. We sort people into categories with astonishing speed: good or evil, enlightened or dangerous,........
