Thoughts about the Recent Tragedy in Orlando

I turn to our tradition for guidance, comfort and wisdom when looking for answers and trying to make some semblance of sense of some senseless act.  

The Torah’s assertion that each and every human being is created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God is a clarion call to treat people, all people, regardless of their sexual orientation or choices with derekh eretz, with dignity and kavod, respect.  The murders at the Pulse Night Club was a hate crime that violates the Torah’s injunction to “love your neighbor as yourself.”   As Jews we understand what it means to be singled out, what it means to be vulnerable, what it means to be a victim.  Knowing that the Talmud equates each and every life with an entire world, we feel the pain of the families who lost loved ones.  

As a prayer in our prayer book which is inspired by the prophets states:  “We have not come into being to hate or destroy, but to love.”  

Based on what is currently known, the violent act was clearly directed against LGBQT individuals and was inspired by the hate-filled teachings of the Islamic State which claims to speak in the name of Islam.  As a recent article in the Washington Post points out, unfortunately these teachings are not inconsistent with the prevailing attitude towards gays in most, if not all predominantly Muslim countries.  

Just last week after the terrorist attack in Tel Aviv I shared the powerful poem by the Hebrew poet Zelda called, “Everyone Has a Name” in my Shabbat sermon.  The words of the poem, excerpted in part below, are as applicable to the victims in Orlando as they are to those gunned down in Israel the previous week.  

Everyone has a name
given to him by God
and given to him by his father and his mother.

Everyone has a name
given to him by his stature
and the way he smiles.
and given to him by the fabric he wears…

Everyone has a name
given to him by his sins
and given to him by his longings….

Everyone has a name
given to him by his enemies
and given to him by his love….

Everyone has a name
given to him by the sea and
given to him
by his death.

The poem reminds us not to forget that each individual life that was taken was precious and more than just a name or a statistic.  

The last insight comes not from our traditional texts, but from what we can learn from how Israel has handled similar attacks, for regrettably they have become unwilling experts on how to respond to deadly attacks.  After a terrorist blew himself up at the Dolphinarium night club in Tel Aviv in 2001 during the height of the Intifada resulting in the deaths of 21 young people, Israelis were in a similar state of shock to what we in America are currently feeling.  Outside the disco a makeshift monument of flowers and notes was created.  The sign at the center simply said, “Lo nafsik lirkod:  We will not stop dancing.”  

Ultimately, that attitude of perseverance and of not giving in to hatred, terror or fundamentalist religious intolerance is what is needed to prevail and be sure that the terrorists do not succeed in their goals of terrorizing us and of disrupting our lives and of threatening our way of life.  

May the Source of comfort send consolation and comfort to all who mourn. 

My Response to Shalom Auslaner's Article about a "Fallen Jew" on Passover

Shalom Auslander’s column, “A ‘fallen Jew’ on what to read this Passover” is so full of mistakes and misconceptions it more properly should have appeared in the column on the same page of the Outlook section entitled “myths.” It could have been called “Auslander’s myths about Passover,” and refuted his points.  

Contrary to what he asserts, as any Jew, even “fallen Jews”, (a term which I have never heard before) know, the story is not about any one single man, but rather the emergence of a people from bondage. The point of Passover is for each and every Jew to feel as though he or she was a slave in Egypt and was liberated. We are called upon to have compassion and to identify with what it means when others do not enjoy freedom. We are reminded that in each and every generation there have been those who sought to destroy and annihilate the Jewish people.  

Passover invites each participant to engage in a dialogue with oneself and one’s heritage, with contemporary concepts and ancient, time-honored traditions, to explore issues of identity and meaning, to interact with the dialectic between the potentially conflicting pulls of particularism and universalism and to counteract complacency.

I find it surprising that a novelist, one who deals in metaphor and meaning is so trapped by literalism that he dismisses the greater significance of the holiday and misses the power of the metaphors and symbolism of the story.  

The Passover story has inspired countless other oppressed peoples throughout the ages. At our seder we sing the spiritual sung by African slaves brought in slavery to this country who saw in the deliverance of the Hebrew slaves a message of hope, reminding us of the role Judaism has played throughout history. I recall when I was a youngster in the 1960’s family seders when we read the story and understood the imperative to support the civil rights movement and to work for social justice.  

Maybe the problem isn’t so much with Passover, but the seders Auslander attended. 

Discussion Topics for Your Seder

A central aspect of Passover is for each of us to feel as though we ourselves were actually in Egypt and that we personally experienced the exodus and liberation. The Hagadah says that whoever adds to the story of Passover is praiseworthy. In that spirit, dialogue and discussion at the seder is encouraged.   Here are some things you might want to add to your Passover seder as points of discussion:

• On Passover we celebrate that we were freed from slavery.  What is there that enslaves us or others today?  Are we slaves to work, to our electronic devices – our cell phones, texting, and so on?  On this holiday when we give up leavened products, can we do without our phones one day a week?  What would that be like for our families and interpersonal interactions and relationships? 

• Passover celebrates when the Jewish people became a nation.  It also calls upon us to recall that we were once slaves so that we will be compassionate and understand the suffering of others as well.  Are the two perspectives mutually exclusive?  Do you think there are some who think of only one part of this message and neglect the other part?  How can you be faithful to the ideals of particularism, striving to ensure the survival of the Jewish people as well as to work for the universalistic ideals that are the hallmark of our heritage? 

•  The Hagadah says that in each and every generation there are those who seek to annihilate the Jewish people.  Who could that refer to today?  In what ways does the effort to silence Jews and Israelis on college campuses and elsewhere and to isolate and ostracize Israel pose a threat to all of us?  What can we do about it?

• And if in this election season, (with the MD primary coming up on Tuesday), if you want to wade into political issues:  How should we evaluate the candidates?  Which candidates do you think will be best for the Jews? 

MLK Shabbat 2016

Tonight we welcome our friends from the People’s Community Baptist Church of Silver Spring.  In August my wife and I were welcomed by Pastor Robinson and the members of his church and it is now our pleasure to have the privilege of reciprocating your gracious hospitality. 

I went there after the shootings in Charleston, SC to deliver a simple message. That message, as I said then was:  You are not alone. We feel your pain. We are your brothers and sisters. 

When Joseph was wandering in Dothan, he encountered a man who asked who and what he was seeking.  Joseph said, “Et ahai anochi mevakesh: It is my brothers that I seek.”  When he was reunited with them many years later, Joseph said to them, “I am Joseph, your brother.” 

It is in that spirit that we extend our hand to our friends here tonight and say, “Welcome. You are here with your brothers, and your sisters.” 

In this week’s Torah reading, we read of the ninth plague, the plague of darkness. The darkness was so palpable that, “no one could see his fellow man, nor could anyone rise from his place. It was so dark no one could move, for three whole days.” Our sages ask, how could it be so dark that no one could move?  That’s because as the Bible tells us, if one sees only oneself, and does not see his brother, does not see his brother’s plight, and does not empathize with him, then one cannot rise. The Bible is teaching us that when you do not see your fellow human being, when you see only yourself, you are incapacitated, and cannot find the light and you do not have the power to get up. 

Ah – but then we read – “There was light in the dwellings of the Israelites.” There was light among the Children of Israel precisely because, they saw their fellow man. 

All the Egyptians had to do was ask – surely we would have shared the light, because that is what we have always done.  Throughout our history, despite all the attempts to annihilate the Jewish people, to oppress us, to convert us, to wipe us out, to humiliate us, to extinguish us and our light, we still insist on keeping the light alive, on sharing the light, on being a light unto the nations. 

Knowing our history, knowing that Jews were killed because we were different, because we taught and practiced the word of God, we have understood that we stand with those who are not free, that we have an obligation to work for civil rights and equal rights for all. 

Our history is so much like the history of African Americans. Our experiences are not just similar, our stories are intertwined.  That is why we need each other, and we pledge to stand together with you.  We need you to stand with us when Jewish people are attacked or harmed, when hateful negative stereotypes about Jews are repeated, or when Israel is isolated, ostracized, and attacked

Tonight we honor our shared vision and history, and the memory of Dr. Martin Luther King, with whom we marched and worked to shatter the shackles of injustice, to break down the walls of separation. The anonymous man in a white shirt right behind Dr. King in the famous photo of the 1963 March on Washington was Sam Weinblatt, my father.

He did that, and he passed the message on to me that this is our obligation. We heed the words of the Bible commanding us – “Tzedek, tzedek tirdof:  Justice, justice shall you pursue.” Let us continue to walk the path together to pursue justice and to walk in the way of the Lord. 

Acts of hatred, bigotry and intolerance must be met with love and forgiveness, with mercy and compassion, for as Dr. King taught, love is stronger and more powerful than hate. 

We pray that this country shall live under the Providence of the Almighty God, to be an influence for good throughout the world. We pray and will work for that day when citizens of all races and creeds shall forge a common bond to banish all hatred and bigotry so that all who live on earth shall realize we have not come into being to hate or destroy, but to love.  

May the powerful words of the prophet, words often recited by Dr. King, and which are emblazoned on our Torah mantle come to pass – “that justice shall flow like a mighty stream, and righteousness roll on like a mighty river.”