By Rabbi Dan Lewin

Parashat Shoftim

On my way home from shul on Shabbat day, I saw three young women walking toward me from a distance.

Based on the way they were dressed, my first observation was that they probably were not Jewish women from the neighborhood walking home from shul. But then another thought entered my mind: It was over 100 degrees outside. Why would anyone simply be strolling through the neighborhood in the scorching heat?

As we got closer, one of the young women suddenly asked with excitement, “Are you Jewish?”

The question struck me as a little unusual because I was visibly Jewish. I answered, “Yes.”

They began speaking with me, and I quickly realized that they were Christian missionaries doing their rounds in our area. The woman leading the group began “sharing” their beliefs with me about the Messiah. I told her that I was already familiar with what they believed. Then the other women began asking questions.

It was clear to me why they were there, but they were not aggressive or looking for a debate. They were respectful and seemed genuinely interested in understanding.

Although I had guests waiting for me at home, I did not want to dismiss them or be impolite. So I decided to answer some of their questions.

I explained that everyone has the right to their beliefs and that respectful conversations between people of different traditions can be valuable. At the same time, we should all be careful not to impose our beliefs on others. They nodded, though I suspected restraint would be difficult.

A deep dive

During the conversation, one of the women said something that caught my attention.

“To be honest with you,” she said, “there are people in our church who hate Jewish people. They watch things on social media, and if they saw a Jewish person walking down the street, they would spit on them.”

I was struck that she was sharing this with me almost as if I were unaware of the disturbing trends taking place today.

Unfortunately, antisemitism is not a new story; it is an ancient, immoral virus that reappears throughout history. I told her that I was sorry to hear that there were people in her community expressing such hatred.

Then she asked a deeper question:

“Where do you think this evil comes from? Do you think God puts evil into people’s hearts?”

She explained that she believed there was God, and then there were evil forces fighting Him — as if God and the devil were competing powers.

At that moment, I realized we were discussing one of the deepest differences between Jewish thought and that perspective.

“So who created evil and darkness?” I asked her.

She paused. The confident expression of someone explaining an idea she had long understood shifted into the expression of someone encountering a question she had never considered.

I explained that Judaism begins with the belief in one God. But “one God” does not simply mean one God as opposed to two. It means something much deeper: There is nothing outside of God.

A timely verse

In a recent Torah portion, we find a verse that we say every day in Aleinu.

“Know today and take it to your heart that Havayah is Elokim in the heavens above and upon the earth below; there is nothing else.” Devarim (Deuteronomy) 4:39

This verse contains one of the foundations of Jewish thought.

The esoteric works explain that these two Divine names, Havayah and Elokim, represent two modes of Divine expression. Havayah represents God above nature — beyond time and limitation, in absolute unity. Elokim represents the way God conceals Himself within creation, allowing the world to appear as if it exists with boundaries and independence.

Through this concealment, there are inevitable challenges, struggles, suffering and even the possibility of darkness and evil.

Though the human mind cannot fully grasp some forms of suffering, the foundation of Jewish faith, as clarified by Maimonides, is that everything comes into being by virtue of the Creator. Evil is not an independent power. There is only God.

The woman struggled with this idea.

“So are you saying that God is evil?” she asked.

“No,” I explained. “God is infinite and good in essence. But He brought into being a finite physical world in which evil can exist, even powerfully. Evil is ultimately a concealment of Godliness — of Divine will and purpose. That is why it is commonly referred to as ‘darkness.’ But it is not a separate force competing with Him.”

Torah, and especially its deeper dimension, teaches that all of creation derives from God’s Divine utterances — the energy that constantly creates and animates everything. Every entity exists only because of the Divine energy sustaining it; without that life force, it could not exist for even a moment.

The power of Divine concealment, however, obscures this vitality, so that we see primarily the external manifestation — the creation itself — rather than the Divine reality within it.

At the same time, the fact that something is created by God does not mean that it reflects God’s essential desire. The existence of evil creates the possibility of genuine human choice; people can choose to act in ways that oppose God’s will. Our spiritual task is therefore not merely to acknowledge that “there is nothing aside from Him,” but to apply this awareness to every area of our lives: to reveal, as much as we are able, the Godliness within everything and minimize the concealment that hides it.

Indeed, we find the statement in last week’s Torah portion: “I am placing before you a blessing and a curse…” and later, “life and death… choose life.”

The test in this final era

Returning to the original topic she brought up, I shared my own message:

“When we look at antisemitism, every individual has their unique test. There are three main groups.

“The Jewish response cannot simply be fear, denial, or escape. Our people have to accept the reality, come to terms with what it means to be Jewish, what it means to be connected to God, and what our responsibility is in this world.

“On the opposite extreme, those who choose hatred and destruction are accountable for their behavior, but they are so deeply invested, given over to negative emotions and agendas, that pure free choice has become more difficult.

“However, those who still have the ability to choose freely — people like you, and many faithful Christians — carry a tremendous responsibility.

“The question is: What will you choose to stand for? Will you stand with goodness, morality, and truth? Will you stand with the Jewish people and against the forces of hatred around us, or will you allow yourself to be influenced by them?

“That is the key choice facing every person in this generation.”

After we finished our conversation, they said, “Before you go, do you mind if we say a prayer together?”

I hesitated because I was not sure what their intention was.

I told them, “I have no problem praying together, but as a rabbi, I would need to lead the prayer. That way, I can make sure that we are praying in a way that is consistent with a shared belief in God.”

Digesting the encounter

In the end, we parted politely. They thanked me for my time, and I thanked them for the respectful conversation.

The only downside was that I realized I was now running late for the meal we were hosting at home. But I also felt that this encounter happened for a reason. Perhaps it was an opportunity to share and clarify one of the deepest ideas in Judaism — the oneness of God — with a broader audience.

The words, “Havayah is Elokim in the heavens above and on the earth below; there is nothing else,” are not merely a theological statement. They are a foundation for how we understand life, suffering, morality and our purpose in this world.

The challenge is to internalize this truth and to live with the awareness that even in a world where darkness exists and challenges are abundant, nothing exists outside of God, and nothing exists aside from God.

Rabbi Dan Lewin is director of the nonprofit Maayan Chai Foundation. For information, visit maayan-chai.org.