Just as poetry and prose are two separate languages, writes Adin Steinsaltz, each appropriate to certain situations, so there is a corresponding dichotomy between the poetic and legal aspects of religion—and a lack of balance between the two can be dangerous:

The language of science is precise and well-defined, while the language of poetry is open and boundless. One can discuss the same topic in both languages, but these will be two very different discussions. For instance, a man who wants to praise his beloved’s beautiful eyes will not say that they are about an inch in size and their color is 1523 Angstrom; he might use instead an expression like “your eyes are like doves.” This is surely a much less precise description, but one that gives great pleasure to the listener. On the other hand, woe to whoever uses poetic language when intending to mend shoes or build a bridge: the shoes will not be mended, and the bridge will not be a bridge. . . .

In Judaism, these two “languages” are called halakhah and aggadah. Halakhah defines and determines right and wrong, what is permitted and what is forbidden in all aspects of our lives, ideologies, intentions, and actions. Alongside halakhah there is the world of aggadah, which deals with ideas and theologies, with our will and the things we strive for in life, with poetry, imagination, and creativity. When it comes to content, there is no contradiction between these two worlds. Quite the contrary: their contents are the same. They only use different languages. . . .

Religious leaders worldwide ought to restrain the poetic vein of their sermons, because it opens uncontrollable floodgates and is liable to become truly destructive. And instead of an occasional, feeble bleat, Islamic religious leaders must vehemently and vigorously affirm that there are rules in Islam and that the extremists among them are actually breaking Islamic law.

Both languages exist because they are both needed, but only the balance between them will ensure existence and continuity. We, as Jews, are also called upon to stress this point: poetry and prayer must be given their proper place, while keeping in mind what can and should be done today and tomorrow.

Two extraordinary events demonstrate something important about Israel’s most fervent adversaries. One was a speech given at something called The People’s Forum (funded generously by Goldman Sachs), which stated, “When the state of Israel is finally destroyed and erased from history, that will be the single most important blow we can give to destroying capitalism and imperialism.”

The suggestion that this tiny state is the linchpin of a global, centuries-old phenomenon like capitalism goes well beyond anything resembling rational criticism. Even if Israel were guilty of genocide, apartheid, and oppression—which of course it is not—it would not follow that its destruction would help end capitalism or imperialism.

The other was an anti-Israel protest that took place in front of New York City’s Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, deemed “complicit” in Israel’s evils. At organizers’ urging, participants shouted their slogans at kids in the cancer ward, who were watching from the windows. Given Hamas’s indifference toward the lives of Gazan children, such callousness toward non-Palestinian children from Hamas’s Western allies shouldn’t be surprising. The protest—like the abovementioned speech—deliberately conveyed the message that Israel is the ultimate evil and its destruction the ultimate good, cancer patients be damned.

The fact that Israel’s adversaries are almost comically perverse does not mean that they can be dismissed. If its allies fail to understand the obsessive and irrational hatred that it faces, they cannot effectively help it defend itself.