Everyone needs a warm personal enemy or two to keep him free from rust in the movable parts of his mind.

Amidst the uncertainties of war and its aftermath, Samson weighs heavily on my heart and mind. Shorn of his secret weapon, Samson finds himself a captive who no longer inspires fear or commands respect. Samson's enemies transform him into a source of entertainment, and they make merry in the face of his humiliation. Chained between two pillars, Samson calls upon God to give him back his strength one last time so that he can satiate his thirst for revenge. "He strained with all his might: and the house fell on the lords and all the people who were in it. So those he killed at his death were more than those he killed during his life" (Judges 16:30).

Rabbi Meir Soloveichik, in an enormously challenging article en-titled "The Virtue of Hate" (First Things: January 2003) highlights several biblical passages that commend hate as an appropriate response to the frightfully wicked. According to Soloveichik, there are circumstances in which hate is not only morally warranted, but essential for the Jewish community's well being. This affirmation of hate for the wicked constitutes a major difference between Christians and Jews. While Ortho-dox Jews will embellish their commentary on the great enemies of the Jewish nation with the phrase yemach shemo ("may his name be erased"), there is no equivalent intolerance for the truly wicked within Christianity. The biblical hope that evil people will be "cut off," their names forgotten, and their memory lost is a source of embarrassment among Christians. When rage breaks out and lays claim to the hearts and minds of the Christian community, the impulse to vilify and damn our enemies is condemned as a dangerous betrayal of the ethical standard established by Jesus.

Soloveichik comes perilously close to a Christian stereotype of Judaism. The God of the "Old Testament" is vengeful and un-forgiving, and this portrait of God is enshrined within the Jewish tradition. The God of the New Testament exhorts Chris-tians to love their enemies and forgive those who trespass against them. Truth be told, Soloveichik overstates the contrast. Christians have often been vengeful and unforgiving, and they have justified their hateful behavior by appeals to their scriptures. Jews have consistently recognized the man-date for repentance and forgiveness. They are also well aware that the virtue of hate with all its scriptural warrants can lead to excesses that are dangerous and destabilizing.

While Soloveichik overplays the contrast between Jews and Christians, he identifies crucial questions that will prove in-structive in the global turmoil of these troubled times. How are we to handle the feelings that well up every time we encoun-ter people who intend us harm? Is not our understanding of justice grounded in the impulse to hit back and even the score? Are there evils embodied in the greed and lust of blood-soaked despots that merit our undying condemnation? If hate is ever a virtue, can it find valid expression without perpetu-ating itself? If hate begets hate, can the vicious cycle of grievance be stopped?

Since Osama bin Laden may also claim Samson as a hero worthy of emulation, we Christians, Jews, and Muslims must ask ourselves: Are there strategies to disarm hate that our religious traditions preserve, and can they be retrieved? Can we build a sustainable society if we fail to limit our retaliatory impulses, if we fail to tame our appetite for revenge and retri-bution? Forgiveness may turn out to be an impossible necessity, but one that none of us can ignore. Our willingness to examine the boundaries, explore the faultlines, and consider the limits of reconciliation will shape the character and con-tent of our political and religious future.