Unlike English and other modern languages, Hebrew and Arabic words are based on root letters that give insight into their deeper meaning.
For example, we’ve all heard the word “shalom (שָׁלוֹם)” or “salam (سلام)” meaning “peace.” But the internal letters of shalom — s, l and m (shin, lamed and mem in Hebrew) — come from a root idea of completeness.
Every word that contains this three-letter combination has some relation to the idea of completeness. The concept of peace itself is based in completeness. The city Jerusalem, also with s, l and m in the middle, means city of completeness, which is why it’s holy to the three main monotheistic religions.
The word “love” in Hebrew is “ahava.”
Its root is “haev,” meaning “to give.” That’s because the truest form of love is based on giving (and why romantic relationships that don’t involve two givers never work.)
In a healthy situation, who is more giving than a parent to a child?
There is no higher love than that of a parent for a child.. When the giving from the parent is so strong, the love is likewise off-the-charts invincible.
So when my 19-year-old son was stabbed in Israel on November 11, my world felt like it had crashed. I can’t recall crying harder at any other point in my life. My love for my kids is so strong that I could not and cannot fathom any harm coming to them.
I rushed to Israel to care for my dear son, and thankfully, he’s expected to make a full recovery, but emotionally, I’m just drained. Still haven’t quite wrapped my head around it all.
Part of my own processing and recovery has been through the outpouring of support and empathy from friends across the globe. I semi-joked that Christian, Jewish and Muslim friends from every corner were praying for my son, so whoever turns out to be right, we’d be covered.
It dawned on me, though.
What if the precious and appreciated love and empathy I received from so many — White, Black, Brown, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, old and young, Israeli and Palestinian, conservative and liberal — what if all of us put politics down for a few minutes like my friends did, and when harm strikes someone or a community, we tap into that empathy and simply profess our concern and offer our prayers?
When a Black man dies from a murdering knee, instead of rushing for Blue Lives Matter signs, we just let others know we’re horrified. That we care. That we pray for the family and community affected.
When a child is shot in a school, or a community loses kids to overdose, instead of rushing to see how we can arm 27-year-old teachers, or throw people in jail, we let the families and community know we share their pain. That we care deeply about what happened.
When our Black brothers and sisters share how they’ve had to confront so much ingrained racism in work, in stores, in entrepreneurship and the like, let’s step back and let people know our hearts feel their pain.
Sure, we have to debate and implement policy to prevent horrific crime. Or address systemic racism. We need to have the discussion about the many variables that contribute to a world spiraling into violence. And how to confront drugs destroying communities.
But we need first and foremost to give our love and empathy to people impacted.
The beautiful thing is when we learn to give our empathy, that giving will actually increase the concern we have for others. Because the root of love, after all, is giving.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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You may also like these posts on The Good Men Project:
 White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism |
 Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box |
 The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer |
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Photo credit: iStockPhoto.com
