How can we be a light unto the nations if we are racist?  How can we claim to be “chosen” to bring the word of HaShem into this world if we distance ourselves from the people of this world?

How can we show them the goodly and Godly ways of the Torah if we refuse to interact with them?

The recent rabbinic ruling from Safed, Israel, banning the rental or sale of property to non-Jews provokes interfaith repugnance, raising tension and stifling respect. Will the edict lead to worsening conditions, or will it protect Israeli Jews?

Admittedly, my questions pose the issue as an extreme choice, but perhaps we should explore the edges to understand the implications of this position.

There are many facets to the current debate inside and outside Israel. Friends tell me that to trust outsiders is to be naive, and that renting to potential enemies is foolhardy. They see the rabbinic ban as logical, even rational in a world of terrorists. Historical injustices of the past point clearly to our need for caution and concern. Our past is filled with neighbours turning on us – one day friendly, the next murderous. We know of treachery and mistrust from Ashkenaz, Sepharad and the Middle East. “Their” track record calls for “our” prudence.

Others concur with the ban simply citing Jewish law. But that law is complex and not so clear. We are bound to safeguard our communities and homes, but it’s not evident that this law is applicable here, nor that it should be implemented worldwide. Different Jewish communities require specific halachic approaches. That has always been our unique survival mechanism. We cannot accept one catholic view of the law.

Notably, we are proud of our heritage, but it was not one of isolation. The challenge before us is to know when to focus inward and when to open outward.

Our nation has thrived on openness to non-Jews. We shared and learned together. Our history is not a vale of tears, though sometimes there were hurricanes. We can boast a productive past in which we sometimes experienced a succession of good relationships with our neighbours.

Recently, I read a beautiful essay by a Cuban American Shabbos goy. Joe Velarde writes movingly of friendship, loyalty, honour and respect. We can almost taste the goodies he was fed as he performed those acts forbidden to Jews on Shabbat. In the process, he developed close relationships with his neighbours. They set a place for him at their Shabbos tables during World War II, praying for his safe return. From them he “discovered obedience without subservience… the worth of a strong work ethic… love of learning.” If you don’t rent to his family, they won’t be your Shabbos goy, and they can’t learn these Torah values from you.

Now a Canadian “goy” story of friendship and interfaith understanding: a young Jewish woman had two non-Jewish best friends. After her father died, they wondered how to help her through her grieving, how to bring her real comfort. They knew that she always went to synagogue on the High Holidays with her dad. The first year without him would not only be difficult, it would be impossible. With whom would she go? So they pledged to go with her – two non-Jewish girls  helping one Jew celebrate in the way her father would want, and in the way she wanted and would find comfort. They still attend services with her every year.

Perhaps there is a difference between Israel and the rest of the Jewish world. Perhaps our Israeli family requires a different model of insider-outsider relationships. Perhaps. I can’t judge. In fact, I would not be the judge of a universal Jewish ethic. We need to be cautious. Antisemitism is alive and well, and it exists all on its own, no matter what we do. But surely we should be careful of our own acts toward others.

We were strangers in a strange land. We should be circumspect in how we treat others. Remember what it feels like to be shunned.

Respect, protect, but don’t offend.