We often think of it as the absence of conflict, but Jewish tradition elevates peace – shalom – to something far more profound and active. It’s not just a nice idea; it's a force that shapes our relationship with God and with each other.
Devarim Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the book of Deuteronomy, offers some amazing insights. It begins by contrasting human behavior with God's. We humans, when wronged, often seek revenge, looking for someone stronger to harm our enemies. But the Holy One, blessed be He, is different. Even idolaters, who anger Him, have their souls returned to them each morning after sleep. As it says in Job (12:10), "In whose hand is the life of every living being?" And Isaiah (42:5) adds, "He gives souls to the people upon it."
Think about that: even those who deny God's existence are sustained by Him.
Humans also tend to hold grudges. We remember the wrongs done to us. But God… well, consider the Egyptians. They enslaved the Israelites, subjected them to harsh labor with mortar and bricks. Yet, Deuteronomy (23:8) tells us, "You shall not despise an Egyptian, as you were a stranger in his land." Even after such cruelty, there's a call for compassion. The lesson? "Seek peace and pursue it," as we are told in Psalms (34:15). We have to actively chase after peace; it doesn't just happen.
The text illustrates the importance of peace with a story about Rabbi Meir. A woman, engrossed in his lecture on Shabbat eve, returned home late to a furious husband. He demanded she spit in Rabbi Meir's face before he'd let her back in the house! What a terrible situation!
Elijah, of blessed memory, revealed the woman's plight to Rabbi Meir. So, Rabbi Meir devised a plan. He publicly complained of an eye ailment, suggesting a charm might cure it. The woman, recognizing her opportunity, came forward and spat in his face. Rabbi Meir then told her to go home and reconcile with her husband. This story shows Rabbi Meir’s willingness to endure humiliation to restore peace in a marriage.
Rabbi Akiva adds another layer: even God’s name, a symbol of ultimate holiness, can be erased to bring peace between a husband and wife suspected of adultery, as described in Numbers, chapter 5. That's how vital peace is! It even overrides the sanctity of God's name.
And Reish Lakish? He tells us that the brothers of Joseph fabricated a message from their deceased father, Jacob, asking Joseph to forgive them (Genesis 50:16-17). Jacob never actually said those words! But they lied, for the sake of peace and reconciliation. The lengths people will go to!
The text continues, piling on example after example. Peace is so beloved that God grants it to Zion. "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem" (Psalms 122:6). He installs it in the heavens. "He makes peace in His heights" (Job 25:2). He provides it to those near and far. "Peace, peace for the far and for the near" (Isaiah 57:19). But not to the wicked. "There is no peace, said the Lord, for the wicked" (Isaiah 48:22).
Even the structure of our prayers reflects this emphasis on peace. Rabbi Levi points out that blessings often conclude with peace. The Shema ends with "He who spreads a canopy of peace." The Amidah prayer ends with peace. The Priestly Benediction concludes with "and grant you peace" (Numbers 6:26).
Rabbi Shimon ben Ḥalafta sums it up beautifully: When God wants to bless Israel, He can’t find a better vessel to hold those blessings than peace. "The Lord will give strength to His people; the Lord will bless His people with peace" (Psalms 29:11). Peace isn't just the destination; it's the container for all good things.
So, what does this all mean for us? It challenges us to actively pursue peace in our lives, even when it's difficult. To forgive, even when we feel wronged. To prioritize reconciliation over holding onto grudges. To remember that peace isn't just the absence of conflict, but a powerful force that connects us to God and to each other. It's a gift we should cherish and strive for, every single day.