Tag: RAC

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Books Passover Pesach Social Justice

Moral Resistance and Spiritual Authority: The Obligations of Our Exodus

In anticipation of the release of CCAR Press’s newest book, Moral Resistance and Spiritual Authority: Our Jewish Obligation to Social Justice, we’ve invited Rabbi Jonah Dov Pesner, co-editor of the book, to share an excerpt of the book on Passover. Moral Resistance and Spiritual Authority is now available for pre-order from CCAR Press.

A couple of months ago I was arrested in the grand rotunda of the Russell Building of the United States Senate. Nearly one hundred Jewish clergy and leaders joined in song and prayer, demanding that the United States Congress pass the DREAM Act, which would grant citizenship to the nearly eight hundred thousand Dreamers who came to the United States as children and are every bit American as my own daughters. As we sang “Olam Chesed Yibaneh” (“We will build this world with love”) over and over again, hundreds of Dreamers stood cheering us on from the balcony, ringing us like a human halo. In an intentionally ironic twist on the famous cry from Moses to Pharaoh, we chanted, “Let our people stay!”

When we were handcuffed, removed by the Capitol Police, and placed under arrest, we understood that we were following directly in the footsteps of our ancient Israelite ancestors. Ironically, our being put into fetters was inspired by the Hebrew slaves, who rose up from their slavery in Egypt and cast off the chains of Pharaoh’s bondage in their journey to redemption. As our hands were locked in cuffs and we were led away, we chanted the verse taken from the Song at the Sea “Ozi v’zimrat Yah, vah’yi li lishuah,” “God is my strength and might, and will be my salvation” (Exodus 15:2). There seemed no words more fitting than those our ancient Israelite ancestors sang as they passed through the parted seas of their redemption.

Even as we were led into police custody, our group understood that we were walking in the footsteps of countless generations of Jews before us, generations who internalized the Rabbinic mandate in the Passover Haggadah that “it is incumbent on every generation to see itself as if they themselves—every person—had personally escaped from Egypt” (Babylonian Talmud, P’sachim 116b). Our deeds of civil disobedience were an act of moral resistance to the injustices being perpetrated on the Dreamers, along with tens of millions of other immigrants and refugees. We acted on the spiritual authority inherited from recent leaders like Rabbis Richard Hirsch, Abraham Joshua Heschel, and Maurice Eisendrath, who marched with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. because they internalized the most often repeated commandment in all of Torah: “You shall love the stranger, because you were a stranger in the land of Egypt” (Leviticus 19:34). Jews have marched throughout history because the core narrative of our people, the defining master story of our tradition, is the archetypal tale of redemption. Our Exodus from Egypt is the story of the transformation of the world-as-it-is, in which “strangers” are continually crushed by oppression, into the world-as-it-should-be, one where all people know justice. The power of the Jewish master narrative lies in its inherent call to every generation to live empathy; because our ancestors were strangers, we—in this era, and in every era—are to love the stranger.

Jews not only retell the master story of redemption throughout our ritual and cultural life; we have relived it throughout history. Our history has served to reinforce the most central exhortation of our Exodus narrative: we are obligated to love the stranger as ourself.

Among the many gleanings of the Exodus narrative that ground Jewish life and values, three stand out as the sources of the spiritual authority demanding that Jews resist injustice and champion morality in every age (and regardless of the challenges we face). First, we learn not only that resistance is required by our faith and experience, but also that it is always possible. Second, we are reminded that our empathy extends beyond the “stranger” to all those who are vulnerable in our midst. Finally, we instill in our souls that the Exodus is not simply about freedom from bondage; our master story culminates with the agency to enter into a covenantal community in which all people are bound to one another.

—

Rabbi Jonah Dov Pesner serves as the Director of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism. He has led the Religious Action Center since 2015. Rabbi Pesner also serves as Senior Vice President of the Union for Reform Judaism. Named one of the most influential rabbis in America by Newsweek magazine, he is an inspirational leader, creative entrepreneur, and tireless advocate for social justice.  Rabbi Pesner is the co-editor of CCAR Press’s  upcoming book, Moral Resistance and Spiritual Authority: Our Jewish Obligation to Social Justice, as well as a contributor to Seven Days, Many Voices: Insights into the Biblical Story of Creation.

Moral Resistance and Spiritual Authority: Our Jewish Obligation to Social Justice is now available for pre-order from CCAR Press. 

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News

Watching Adulthood Emerge on Capitol Hill

Back in the day, thirteen-year-old Jewish boys and girls became adults. Their parents were invited to recite the blessing: Baruch shep’tarnu mei-ha-onsho shel zeh – Blessed is the One who has freed us from the responsibility for this child. Parents marked the moment that they were no longer responsible for the (potentially sinful) actions of their adult children.

Today, anyone paying attention knows that the journey into adulthood unfolds for many young people well into their late twenties. In fact, as rabbis of Congregation Or Ami (Calabasas, CA), we have edited more than our share of Bar/Bar Mitzvah divrei Torah (speeches) away from saying “now I am a man/woman.” We guide students instead to say “today I am taking the first steps on the path to adulthood.”

But when really does adulthood begin?

Adulthood arrives later than when we were kids. When young people take more real responsibility not only for their own lives, but also for those around them, and for their community, country and world, they begin to manifest a level of maturity that evidences approaching adulthood.

Recently, we glimpsed twenty high school students inching closer to adulthood as we chaperoned them to the L’Taken social justice seminar led by the Religious Action Center for Reform Judaism (RAC). And it took our breath away.

With the RAC’s staff, our teens explored current issues before Congress and our country and enjoyed a crash course on how concerned citizens can lobby our leaders.

But L’Taken is more than a kid-friendly version of real-life citizen engagement. L’Taken is the next step in the adultification of our youth.

Invited into the halls of Congress to urge their elected leaders to effectuate Jewish values, these soon-to-be voters take personal responsibility for their future. They choose issues they are most passionate about and research them with seriousness. (Our delegation focused on healthcare, LGBTQ rights, immigration, reproductive rights, and campaign finance, and issues related to Israel.) They reviewed briefing papers and studied relevant Jewish texts. They debated potential positions on pending legislation.

Then as we adults sat back, the teens entered a junk-food-fueled late night of writing their own lobbying speeches and editing them under the mentorship of the talented RAC staff. Witnessing this moment – they take their responsibility very seriously – gave us hope.

Citizen-Lobbyists ascending Capitol Hill

On Monday morning these newly minted citizen-lobbyists boarded the buses to Capitol Hill, dressed in their power suits, carrying folders filled with their speeches. Sure, their youthfulness still required some further guidance: this one needed help tying his tie; that one sought instructions on how to shake hands in a way that projected strength and assertiveness. But they understood – more clearly in our divided country and broken world than at any previous time in their short lives – that as the prophet Joel said in the Bible, “while the old shall dream dreams, the youth shall see visions.” The future was theirs for the taking… and the shaping. They planned to bend the arc toward justice.

Entering the offices of our California senators and representatives, our delegates shook hands, introduced themselves, and got right down to business. These young lobbyists described current legislation by name and number, articulated the Jewish and American values underlying their position on the legislation, personalized the issue with a motivating story from their lives, and respectfully but firmly urged the leaders to uphold their opinions.

We met with the Legislative Directors who we could sense knew – and they knew that the teens knew – that our teens would be voting in just a few years time. So their opinions were taken seriously and their questions addressed forthrightly.

When do young people begin inching to adulthood?

We rabbis (like their parents) remember them as kids, who we alternatively coddled and cajoled through their Bar/Bat Mitzvah studies. Some were barely able to gaze over the bimah. Others had wrestled with voices starting to crack or self-identities struggling to emerge. Still, we placed them before family and friends and hoped they would lead in the way we had practiced together. Then, with our hearts swelling, we blessed them before the ark, propelling them forward on a path toward adulthood. We charged them to embrace Torah values to repair the brokenness in our world. But we knew they were still kids in adult-like clothing.

Then in Washington DC, our nation’s Capitol, these same teens moved closer to adulthood by taking charge of their future. They spoke with the confidence their future necessitated, expecting (and kindly demanding) that their values – rachamim(compassion), b’tzelem Elohim (the intrinsic worth of each person) and tzedek (justice for all) – would prevail.

Between snapping pictures for parents back home, we two rabbis smiled knowingly at each other. We were witnessing adulthood starting to emerge. In our nation’s Capitol, our youngsters really took the next step forward.

Our hearts were bursting with pride. And so, for their parents back home who could only experience this through the social media videos and our constant texts, for our Congregation Or Ami community and for ourselves, we whispered the ancient blessing, transformed anew:

Baruch Ata Adonai, shebrachtanu eem ha-brachot shel zeh – Blessed are You, Eternal One, who has blessed us with these blessings. Amen.

—

Rabbi Paul Kipnes and Rabbi Julia Weisz both serve Congregation Or Ami in Calabasas, CA.  This blog was originally posted on Rabbi Kipnes’s blog. 

Categories
Reform Judaism Social Justice

Standing as Witness and Capable Ally in Voter Protection

Today is Election Day. Along with my wife, colleagues at The Temple Rabbis Peter Berg, Loren Filson Lapidus, Lydia Medwin, an inspiringly large number of our congregants, Reform rabbis and other Jewish leaders from across North America, including CCAR’s own Rabbi Steve Fox, I am in Macon, Georgia, to partner with the Lawyers’ Committee for Civil Rights Under Law to provide non-partisan election protection. We will be in the field to monitor polls to ensure that those who desire to vote are able to cast their ballots for their candidate of choice, freely exercising their Constitutional right to vote. Our work is part of the Religious Action Center’s Nitzavim campaign, a national voter rights initiative of our movement’s Racial Justice Campaign.

What I say about all of this work is simply an incredulous, “Really?!” In 2016, is the freedom to vote still an issue? Why yes, my dear, sheltered, Northern California boy, the unfettered right to vote is still in peril and a cloud of voter suppression tactics with racist overtones hangs above Macon.

Here in Atlanta at The Temple, we have been working within our own version of the RAC’s Reflect/Relate/Reform model. Responding to our congregation’s call to honor our legacy of the Civil Rights Movement by getting current on racial inequality and working harder and smarter to create a just society for all, we spent the better part of the past summer and into the fall doing difficult and sometimes painful reflective work. It has not been easy to own up to our own implicit biases, racism, and our failures to stand as witness and inabilities to act as capable allies and I suspect we have a ways to go. I know I do. Truth be told, six months ago I do not believe we would been able to see or have been able to respond to race-based threats of voter disenfranchisement. But the threats are real.

Since the Supreme Court’s decision in Shelby v. Holder no longer requires certain jurisdictions to demonstrate to either the Attorney General or a federal court in Washington, D.C., that any proposed voting change is not discriminatory before that change can be implemented, we are now living in a society in which a core measure of the Voting Rights Act has been undone. We now can see better what we could not have seen before we undertook this work. Much of today’s racism flourishes because for too long we acted like the Civil Rights Movement was a singular and eternal victory for righteousness and that the problems, inequalities, and injustices of today were not based on racist, discriminatory, and under the guise of modern colorblindness, legal practices.

We have a long road ahead of us to fulfill the vision of the Beloved Community, but we are walking together in partnership with each other and with churches and organizations representing and led by people of color. I could not be more proud of the Reform Movement’s awakening to racial inequality and as we head to Macon to fulfill our commitment, I know with every ounce of my being that our work will be on the right side of history.

—

Rabbi David Spinrad serves The Temple in Atlanta, Georgia. 

Categories
Gun Control News Social Justice

Three Ways to Participate in National Gun Violence Awareness Day 2016

On June 2, millions of people across the county will be observing the second annual National Gun Violence Awareness Day, also known as Wear Orange Day.

On January 21, 2013, Hadiya Pendleton – a majorette and high school student from the South Side of Chicago – marched in President Obama’s Second Inaugural Parade. One week later, after finishing final exams, Hadiya was shot and killed in a park near her school. Soon after this tragedy, Hadiya’s childhood friends asked their classmates to commemorate Hadiya’s life by wearing orange.  They chose the color orange to symbolize the value of human life, as hunters wear orange in the woods to protect themselves and others. This call to action from Hadiya’s classmates has grown into a national movement, and orange is becoming the symbol of gun safety.

Last year, the Reform Movement participated in the first ever National Gun Violence Awareness Day, and this year the RAC and NFTY are once again working with Everytown for Gun Safety and dozens of other organizations, to draw awareness, to educate and to take action to prevent gun violence. Here are three ways that you can get involved with Wear Orange this year:

  1. Incorporate gun violence awareness into Shabbat: Join the Reform Movement’s participation in National Gun Violence Awareness Day by using our new Wear Orange Shabbat Toolkitin your congregation or home.
  2. Contact Your Members of Congress: Currently, many people are still able to legally purchase guns at gun shows and online, even if they would be prohibited from doing so in a store. On June 2, urge your Members of Congress to support legislation which would improve our background check system on gun sales, further preventing gun violence.
  3. Wear Orange and Share! On June 2, wear a piece (or more) of orange clothing to show your support for gun violence awareness. At some point during the day, take a picture of yourself, share it on social media and tell us why you are wearing orange. Be sure to tag us in your post (@theRAC, @NFTY) and use #WearOrange. Here are some examples of Reform Jews showing their support on June 2, 2015.

To learn more about gun violence prevention, visit the RAC’s issue page.

Categories
News Passover Pesach Rabbis Rabbis Organizing Rabbis Social Justice

Promises of Liberation

Rabbi Seth Limmer

This week is framed by the unfulfilled promises of liberation.

On April 16, we celebrated Emancipation Day, which marks the anniversary of President Lincoln’s signing the Compensated Emancipation Act of 1862, which freed the over 3,000 enslaved individuals who resided in Washington, D.C.

On April 22, which is also the 14th of Nissan, we will sit at our Seder tables to commence our annual Passover festival which marks not only the historic liberation of our people from Egyptian oppression, but also the beginning of our obligation to insure none in the world suffer similar degradation and abuse.

Our Passover meal ends with the hope, “Next year in Jerusalem! Next year may all be free!” We understand it is our obligation to rise up from our Seder and work for that great liberation of humanity which is not yet complete.  For those who marked Emancipation Day, we recognize that—in a society still roiled by racial injustice—the promise of American Emancipation is likewise not yet fulfilled.

It is our work to bring to light the Jewish hope, and the American dream, of enduring freedom for all.  Passover teaches us that the opposite of freedom is oppression; we know in American that the antithesis of living free is being incarcerated.  We also know that our country today suffers—disproportionately in the case of our Black brothers and sisters—from the plague of Mass Incarceration.  That is why we, as a Reform Movement and Reform Rabbis, have banded together to advocate the passage of the bipartisan Sentencing Reform and Corrections Act [S. 2123] in this year’s Congress.

Fighting for the passage of S. 2123 has been interesting for me as a resident of Illinois.  One of my Senators, Richard Durbin [D-IL], is an original co-sponsor of the bill.  My other Senator, Mark Kirk [R-IL], has long been viewed as a key moderate who might ultimately come out in support of the bill.  Our job was to turn the possibility of Kirk’s potential support for this bill into his committed support.

Our work began in January, the Friday before Rev. Martin Luther King Day.  Rabbi Ari Margolis and I met with Senator Kirk’s representatives in his Chicago office, and explained our movement’s support for this needed legislation.  The following Tuesday, over 500 Reform Jews—inspired by their rabbis—called into Kirk’s office to add their voices to those who wished to see S. 2123 become the law of our land.

But January brought no word of endorsement or support, we took further action.  The Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights organized a local press conference at which I spoke on behalf of the Reform Movement and reminded our Senator that, “Mercy, redemption and rehabilitation are just as much part of a just society as punishment.” [http://thehill.com/regulation/legislation/267347-illinois-residents-push-sen-kirk-to-support-criminal-justice-reform]  Still, we hear little from Capitol Hill.

Last week, I travelled to Washington, D.C., as part of our bi-annual meetings of our Commission on Social Action.  Our meetings ended on Tuesday with a trip up to the Hill, where we gathered in state Caucuses to lobby on behalf of S. 2123.  Together, Rabbi Shoshana Conover and Deborah Kadin and I prepared for what we feared would be a contentious meeting in Kirk’s offices: too much time had passed for us not to receive an answer.  As we sat with Gregory Tosi, the Senator’s lead counsel, I honestly felt like we would walk away defeated.  Boy was I wrong.

Instead, as we finished advocating for our cause, Greg shared the following with us: “You’ll be happy to hear—and you’re the first to hear—that the Senator decided today to become a co-sponsor of the bill.”  That direct.  That plain.  After months, the victory we sought… a first small win on the campaign for much more.

We left the Hart Office building delighted.  I thought I was the one with good fortune—I also ran into colleagues Matthew Cutler and Michael Latz, who were lobbying with the Jubilee USA network for relieving global poverty.  It was my colleague Rabbi Conover who had the best luck: she ran into Senator Kirk himself, while he was on the way to a press conference to announce his support for S. 2123.  On behalf of all of us, she thanked him for his vote.

As we dwell in a season of unfulfilled dreams, I am fully aware that this victory is small.  Next, we need to ensure S. 2123 makes its way to the Senate floor.  Then we will likely need to fight for its passage.  And then, the problems of Mass Incarceration won’t evaporate; they will only be mitigated.  Dr. King taught that the moral arc of the universe is long, and we need to be in this for the long struggle if we want to make sure that arc bends towards justice.

I left Capitol Hill last week, a few Days before Emancipation day and a week prior to Passover, feeling just as I do every year when the Seder comes to an end: I’m appreciative of the strides we’ve made towards liberation for all, but aware that we have a lot more marching to do to pass everyone through the split sea to the Land of Promise.

—

Rabbi Seth Limmer serves Chicago Sinai Congregation.  He is also the Social Justice committee chair for the CCAR. 

Read more about the Commission on Social Action and Rabbis Organizing Rabbis trip to Washington D.C.

 

Categories
Rabbis Rabbis Organizing Rabbis Social Justice Torah

Marching toward a World of Justice

Rabbi Tarfon taught: “You are not required to complete the work, but neither are you at liberty to abstain from it.”

What is the work we are called to do?  Along with nearly two hundred of my colleagues, I was honored to participate in America’s Journey for Justice.  Along with Rabbi Adam Stock Spilker of Minnesota, I walked the last leg in Alabama, ending the day by crossing over into Georgia.

That particular day, moving from state to state, gave us the opportunity to reflect on the significance and meaning of what the name “United States of America” stands for. Is there equal opportunity throughout our country?  Are we united in ending racism and discrimination?  In particular, I was moved by talking to the men in the group who, like me, are fathers.  What are the realities for their children, when they go to school and when they drive down the road, when they go to the ballot box and when they seek employment?  It was an exciting moment to reach the end of the long day’s walk and cross over from state to state.  The moment of celebration was tempered, however, by what I see as a central aspect of this walk: the desire to create equality and justice all throughout our land.

That particular day was also a Friday, which meant we ended the day by welcoming Shabbat.  We sang Shalom Aleichem and imagined the angels that would accompany us on the journey towards peace.  We made Kiddush together, and celebrated its message that God brought us forth from bondage: and now that we were taking these actions to move our country from oppression to opportunity.  We tore open the rich white braids of the challah and taught our new friends that Judaism’s sacred teachings command us to journey for justice.

In Deuteronomy Rabbah, we read, “R. Joshua ben Levi said: When a man walks on the highway, a company of angels goes before him announcing: ‘Make way for the image of the Holy One, blessed be He.’”

This journey from Selma to Washington is sacred, and God is present in every step down those country highways.  We answered hateful cries with songs of peace.  We met ignorance and bigotry with love and dignity.  We shared stories of vulnerability and fear and we shared hopes and dreams.

And we did it all carrying a Torah scroll, proudly, alongside the American flag.  Torah, which begins with the story of creation, because we are all responsible for one another.

During the weeks of this journey, the scroll will be in places where it has never been seen before.  May its wisdom and beauty and its clarion call to pursue justice inspire all those on the journey.  We may not complete the work, but when the Journey reaches its destination, may we be ever closer to a world of Justice.

—

Rabbi Peter W. Stein serves Temple B’rith Kodesh in Rochester, NY.  

This blog was originally posted on the RAC’s Blog.

 

Categories
Rabbis Rabbis Organizing Rabbis Social Justice Torah

Keep on Walking, Keep on Talking, Marching up to Freedom’s Land

Ain’t gonna let nobody turn us around

We’re gonna keep on a walkin, keep on a talkin,

Marchin up to Freedom’s Land

As we marched in the hot humid sun, a group of truly courageous and gusty Georgian women began singing this Freedom Song in beautiful harmony.  Their singing gave me strength and served as a connection to the past.  They reminded me of why I was there: to walk, to talk, and to march for justice and freedom for all.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I signed up for this journey.  Yes, I knew I would help carry the Torah during the day’s 18 mile journey, but it was the walking and the talking that truly inspired me and it was the extraordinary people that I met on my trip that will stay with me long after my feet stop aching.

Over breakfast, I sat with Royal who shared his anger that he could not join the numerous fishing and hunting clubs in town because of his skin color.  He worried about his five year old son whose best friend is white.  “What will happen when my son’s friend has a birthday party at the Fishing Club?” he asked me.  “Will the boy include my son in the birthday party or not?  Will the father turn his son into a racist or will the boy recognize the ignorance of his father’s way?”

In the morning, I walked alongside Shelly who was concerned about the next generation.  She shared that those without an education often find work as a restaurant server – making the minimum wage of $7.25 an hour – barely enough to make a living.  Shelly inspired me by accepting a new job tutoring high school seniors, enabling these students to move forward with their education and their dreams.

In the afternoon, I stood by Keisha’s side.  It was a transformative moment in Keisha’s youth that led her to become an advocate for change.  She told me that she believes it is a smile, a wave of the hand, a kind word that will truly change the course of our country.  Her heart pushed her to create a new non-profit that will support future business owners and help get people back to work.

Later that day, I was honored to chant from the Torah and read these words: “If there is a needy person among you, do not harden your heart and shut your hand against your needy kin” (Deuteronomy 15:7).  Rabbi Jill Perlman shared a beautiful teaching that in order to break open a hardened heart we must first unclench our hands and reach out to each other.  Over the course of my journey, I recognized the power of not only my hands, but also my feet.  By holding on to the marchers next to me and by walking by their side, I was able to open my heart to their worries, their challenges and the injustice that pervades our society.  By being present and sharing my entire body and soul, my heart was opened to their experience.

I only marched for one day in the steamy 100 degree Georgian heat, but Royal, Shelly and Keshia are marching the entire length of the journey.  They’ve come so far already, but it’s still a long way to the Promised Land.  May the beautiful singing inspire them and continue to push us all to open our hearts and our hands, for we must keep on walking, keep on talking, and marching up to Freedom’s Land.

—

Rabbi Andy Gordon serves on the clergy team of Temple Sinai of Roslyn. 

This blog was originally posted on the RAC’s blog.

 

Categories
Chanukah Rabbis Organizing Rabbis Social Justice

We All Count: Chanukah, Alabama, and Inequality

This blog is the fifth in a series from Rabbis Organizing Rabbis connecting the period of the Omer to the issue of race and class structural inequality.  Rabbis Organizing Rabbis is a joint project of the CCAR’s Peace & Justice Committee, the URJ’s Just Congregations, and the Religious Action Center. 

There is a meditation in Mishkan T’fillah that was carried over from Gates of Prayer: “Prayer invites God’s presence to suffuse our spirits, God’s will to prevail in our lives.  Prayer may not bring water to parched fields, nor mend a broken bridge, nor rebuild a ruined city.  But prayer can water an arid soul, mend a broken heart, rebuild a weakened will.”  This meditation was penned by Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, who was personally invited by Dr. Martin Luther King to help lead the march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama in March 1965.  When he returned from that march, Rabbi Heschel wrote, “I felt as if my legs were praying.”

Rabbi Heschel and Dr. King are long gone, but I felt their presence and those of everyone who marched from Selma half a century ago: those who marched and were beaten and clubbed in “Bloody Sunday,” those who tried to march and stopped to pray, and those who finally succeeded in marching to Montgomery, where they heard Dr. King tell us that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”  I felt their presence and even heard from some of them when I traveled to Selma in March for the commemoration of the marches.

Rabbi Fred Guttman of North Carolina organized a Jewish contingent to participate in the event.  We met at Temple Mishkan Israel, the beautiful (Reform) synagogue of Selma’s now tiny Jewish community.  In addition to Jews, those present included members of the African American community, and among them was a contingent from the North Carolina NAACP.  I made friends with a future divinity student in that group.  We were challenged by Dr. William Barber, President of the North Carolina NAACP, who reminded us that “moral dissent can never take a vacation.”

We heard from David Goodman, whose brother Andrew was lynched along with Michael Schwerner and James Chaney in Mississippi during the Movement.  We heard from Dr. Susannah Heschel, daughter of Rabbi Heschel, about the challenges her father set forth for us.  We joined in as Peter Yarrow sang “Blowin’ in the Wind,” just as he had done in Selma 50 years ago.  And we heard Clarence Young, one of Dr. King’s chief advisors, tell us that “the true story of Selma is the story of the participation of the Jewish people and Jewish leadership.

And we saw a beautiful African American woman, short in stature but proud in bearing, who faced the weapons and the hatred 50 years ago.

Then we left, and with tens of thousands of others, crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge.  It was celebratory, and it was emotional, but it was much more than that.

Our gathering in that synagogue was a form of prayer.  It served to rebuild a weakened will.  Much has gone wrong in our country when it comes to creating a unified society.  The Supreme Court has gutted the very voting rights protections that the Selma march was designed to guarantee.  Since then, states have engaged in campaigns of voter suppression.  Economic inequality continues to grow, and racist actions, some trivial, many not, continue to show up on our television and computer screens.  It is tempting to throw up our hands and let the world go on its way.

But Selma is always there to remind us that despair is not the way.  Dr. King and Rabbi Heschel first met in 1963 at a conference on religion and race.  In his keynote address, Rabbi Heschel said,

“At the first conference on religion and race, the main participants were Pharaoh and Moses.  Moses’s words were, ‘Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, let My people go….’  The outcome of that summit meeting has not come to an end.  Pharaoh is not ready to capitulate.  The exodus began, but it is far from having been completed.”

As we move away from Passover, we must recall that we are the descendants of those who challenged Pharaoh.  We are the people who crossed the sea to freedom.  We have to keep crossing it, and bring all those in search of freedom with us.

And this brings me from Passover to Chanukah.  The word means “dedication,” and the holiday celebrates our rededicating the Temple after the forces of oppression had vandalized it.  What I learned in Selma is that we have to rededicate ourselves every day to making this world – God’s temple – into a holy place.  We need to repair the damage that has been done.  That is the true meaning of tikkun olam.  And that is the meaning of Selma.

———

Rabbis Organizing Rabbis is project of the Reform Movement’s social justice initiatives: the CCAR’s Committee on Peace, Justice and Civil Liberties, the Religious Action Center, and Just Congregations.

Rabbi Tom Alpert serves Temple Etz Chaim.

Categories
Social Justice

Consultation on Conscience: Justice In Two Places

Justice work can happen in the halls of Congress and it can happen on the streets.  This past Tuesday we did justice work in both places.

We had been in Washington D.C. participating in the Religious Action Center’s Consultation on Conscience; Tuesday was our lobby day. As we were hearing from prominent Senators and Representatives at the Dirksen Senate Office Building, two blocks away at the Supreme Court, our Justices were hearing arguments on Marriage Equality, perhaps the most important civil rights case of this generation. Rabbi Denise Eger, a leading advocate for Marriage Equality and President of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, and Rabbi Lucy Dinner were speaking at a rally on the steps of the Supreme Court and we wanted to go hear them.  Although we missed their speeches, we might not have heard them anyway over the cacophony of competing rallies from both the Marriage Equality advocates and those who oppose equal rights for all (and whose signs and banners were particularly hateful).

As we walked away from the center of the rally and were surveying the scene we noticed a small group of Ultra-Orthodox Jews standing on a prominent corner, protesting Marriage Equality, waving signs just as hateful as those of the dozens of Christian Fundamentalists.  We wanted to make sure that those who gathered to support Marriage Equality knew that Reform religious Jews also supported Marriage Equality.  So what did we do?  We formed a spontaneous counter protest.  It began with four of us, positioned strategically by the Ultra-Orthodox demonstration, singing loudly and cheerfully, ‘Hinei Mah Tov  u’ma’naim shevet achim gam yachad—how good and pleasant it is when brothers and sisters dwell together.’  As we sang, more of our colleagues IMG_0833and other Jews too joined our group, proud to see their brothers and sisters in faith raising the call for justice and for love. They thanked us for our support. Many others, Jews and non-Jews, saw religious Jewish allies raising our voices in support of Marriage Equality.  All we did was sing prayers of peace, brotherhood and sisterhood, showing all those around (and those watching on TV) that we were people of faith, Jews, Reform Jews lifting up the commandment from this week’s Torah portion, ‘V’ahavta l’reiacha kamocha—Love your neighbor as yourself.’

We didn’t plan this counter protest.  But we were compelled to respond by demonstrating the powerful truth of our tradition. We knew we couldn’t stand idly by while a group of intolerant, hateful Jews tried to coopt out faith and our tradition.  All it took were the familiar melodies of Hinei Mah Tov and Oseh Shalom to lift the spirit and the soul, to draw in other Jews, and those who aren’t Jewish and show how a heritage rooted in love and acceptance could overcome hate and intolerance.

Eventually we returned to the Senate Building; we met with our elected officials and lobbied on issues important to us as Reform Jews.  However our true prayer and passion on Tuesday was firmly rooted in street justice through our steps and our songs.

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Rabbis Mona Alfi (Congregation B’nai Israel in Sacramento, CA), Charles Briskin (Temple Beth El in San Pedro, CA)and Joel Thal Simonds (University Synagogue in Los Angeles, CA) wrote this piece together. They are members of Reform CA and representatives of the CCAR on the Joint Commission on Social Action.

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Rabbis Reform Judaism Social Justice

My Broken & Filled Heart: A Takeaway From the 2015 Consultation on Conscience 

My heart is full and my heart is breaking. That’s my take away from this week’s Consultation on Conscience.

Sure, my heart is full because of the formal program that the RAC put together–powerful speakers who were inspiring and challenging. And yes, we had some incredible moments as we celebrated David Saperstein and Jonah Pesner. But my heart is full because here at this conference, I encountered colleagues and lay leaders who share the thirst for justice. My heart is full because I am surrounded by a community who cares, and a community who is ready to work.

At the same time, this conference has also exposed my broken heart. Yesterday, I participated in a Rabbis Organizing Rabbis workshop in which participants shared stories of injustice in their own communities. One woman in my group told about how she noticed how the extra food in her synagogue’s fridge disappeared, only to realize it was the janitorial staff taking it home to feed their families. Another woman told about how she felt powerless when she saw drug addiction in her community. Each of these stories, we realized, were symptoms of larger economic and racial structural injustices. Heartbreaking.

Dinner only brought more heartache. While sitting with colleagues talking about where we see racial and economic injustices in our communities, all we had to do was look up to what was happening on the TVs in the restaurant–news about the riots in Baltimore was just beginning to break.

Consultation has been about how we hold full and broken hearts together. It strikes me that that is also the message of Leviticus. We begin the book with the message that we need to get proximal to God (more on that language in a moment). The sacrificial system should bring us close to God. We know, though, about moments in which the community is distant. Nadab & Abihu, Aaron’s silence, and the affliction of tzora’at teach us that there are moments, both extreme and mundane, in which we are not the community we strive to be. But then enters kedushah. Be holy, be set apart as a people who know what the right and just thing to do is. In so doing, we bring ourselves back closer to God. Our hearts can break, and the prospect of holiness can make them full again.

This was the message of the most powerful speaker of the conference–Bryan Stevenson. Stevenson is a lawyer and the founder of the Equal Justice Initiative. He’s also a prophet and yodeah Sefer. As he described the blight of mass incarceration in the United States, I felt my heart breaking wide open. Horrific situations that we cannot even begin to imagine. Children jailed in dangerous and violent situations. Mental health being ignored behind bars, despite the consequences. But then, he called for love and kindness to fill us up. He is an optimist, and he offered a heart-full prescription for what we can do to make things a bit more just: (1) We have to get proximate to the people who are affected by the injustice. We can’t only read about it. We need to get into relationship with those affected by injustice. (2) We need to change the narrative around faith and race. (3) We should protect our hopefulness, insisting on believing in things we have not yet seen. And (4), we should do uncomfortable things.

Hearts filled and hearts broken, this is an uncomfortable dichotomy. It is also real and energizing. I know that I now need to get to work.

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Rabbi Neil Hirsch serves Temple Shalom in Newton, MA