Category: ethics

Some are guilty all are responsible

Tyre Nichols is buried today. So many of us grieve and shake our heads in disbelief, wondering how this could happen.

Several people are identified as directly responsible for the brutality leading to Tyre Nichols’s death, including police and EMTs.  Ironically, those charged with protecting us are accused of the murder of someone when they betrayed their sacred oaths. But we cannot stop here, assuaging our sense of moral outrage by prosecuting bad actors. Something more insidious is going on, and we must do much more.

Some of us remember the political cartoon Pogo by Walt Kelly. One iconic image is Pogo contemplating the situation saying, we have met the enemy, and he is us. Set initially as an environmental statement in 1971, this understanding of the situation applies to us today.

We may not be directly guilty of the barbarism that took Mr. Nichols’s life, but we have allowed it to exist. We have turned a blind eye to a systemic problem, and Mr. Nichols and many others have paid the price.

Law enforcement ostensibly is tasked with protecting the people from those criminals who prey upon us. It is a tough job and often a thankless one. It is hard and often very unpleasant, so many of us prefer to turn away and let them do what they need to do. But we cannot turn a blind eye any longer.

In a free society, some are guilty all are responsible. These words were written in 1972 by Abraham Joshua Heschel. And they remain true today. We are responsible. Only when we engage in the difficult conversations and hard choices involving what policing looks like and what are the responsibilities of those tasked with protecting all of us; do we give them the resources they require, including the best personnel, the best training, and the tools, a social security apparatus that supports those whose needs are best met by other professionals and the active, meaningful oversight by responsible civilians and the courts will we achieve the justice we seek, the justice denied Mr. Nichols.

As we lay Tyre Nichols to rest, let us finally commit ourselves to fix a broken system so that America can be America for all Americans.

Gun violence is a deadly issue, but a symptom. 

We often forget or become numb to how commonplace the daily carnage has become.

And because of our numbness, we require a mass casualty event to jolt our senses and awareness.

Sadly, this means that the lives of all the individuals murdered go unnoticed. The tragic loss of children becomes part of the daily process, cold statistics not unlike the cold bodies left in the wake of this national nightmare.

We must accept that although many consider shooting a sport (hunting, target practice, etc.), the purpose of a gun is to serve as a deadly weapon. A gun is used to kill. And outside the hunter’s blind or shooting range, most guns ultimately aim at people, and people die.

There are many reasons for the prevalence of guns and the ensuing gun violence. But at its core is a fundamental rejection of a basic premise of our society, namely, we are a nation of laws. If those laws are not applied rigorously and uniformly, then grievance arises, and the need to take the law into our own hands ensues.

The mass shooters and street thugs flout the law, and the victims ultimately pay the price of a society unable or unwilling to abide by its own standards of civility.

Taking the guns off the streets is a fantasy or perhaps just a fool’s errand. Only when we fully commit to a holistic approach that requires defending the weak and addressing the issues underlying the reasons people turn to guns, including mental health, lax enforcement of the law, political expediency, and twisting the Second Amendment to paralyze serious conversations, might we as a society begin the process of confronting and vanquishing this scourge.

As the co-chair of the Domestic Affairs Committee of the JCRC of Greater Philadelphia, we are committing ourselves to the issue of Gun Responsibility within the greater context of a Safe Cities Initiative. Our safe city approach is complex and challenging and without a quick fix. But the longer-term payoffs are significant. So I hope we can galvanize our community to engage in this hard work on behalf of all of us.

 

 

Shabbat Shalom (and Chag Urim Sameach)

As we welcome Shabbat, Hanukkah comes immediately after on the 18th.  Six13, the outstanding a capella group shares “Elton Johnukah.” Take a listen and enjoy the music and the joy.

Shabbat Shalom

(PS shout out to Jeff and Ilene for sharing this video with me so I can share it here)

Apologize?

Many have called upon Donald Trump to apologize for embracing two avowed Jew Haters.

Trump has not distanced himself from these bigots or their bile.

Trump is a clever checkers player who has acted according to what he believes is best for him.  For us now to receive an explanation or apology after so much time has elapsed would be suspicious at best.  It is impossible to believe any apology would be sincere and instead a cynical calculation for personal benefit.

One of the best ways to put out a fire is to eliminate the oxygen from which it is nurtured.  Let us deprive this dumpster fire of any further oxygen/publicity so we might focus on issues of importance, including repairing the damage he has incited, stoking hatred, violence, and contempt for the institutions that undergird our nation.

And Justice For All

There is nothing like the threat of economic consequences to elicit a heartfelt apology.

Yes, that is as cynical as it sounds.  The recent antisemitic bile spewed from Kanye West and Kyrie Irving has met with pushback and outrage from the Jewish Community and severe fallout in the business community. And voila, apologies have started to cascade out.  But writer/activist George M. Johnson pointedly shared in a recent interview that West had been spewing hatred against the Black community for a while before turning his sights on the Jews.  That, however, did not provoke the same level of outrage from either Jews or businesses.  This is for reasons ranging from racism to the idea that such vile thoughts didn’t hurt anyone’s bottom line enough.

We all need to do better.

We all must enjoy the same rights and responsibilities in our society; that hatred against one group threatens everyone.  Businesses are rarely the bastions of moral virtue. But businesses will respond when we inflict economic consequences on bad behavior, such as not going to Nets games or buying West’s sneakers or clothing, because hatred directed at any group is unacceptable to all of us.  This is a call to all who find themselves in a group that has been “othered” in our society and those who enjoy the privilege of not being so ostracized.  Jews need to speak for the civil rights of all people, not just Jews.  Blacks likewise need to talk about injustice whenever it happens in our society, not just when Black people are affected. And so too with everyone.  To echo Langston Hughes, Let America be America for all Americans.

Some hate for hate’s sake and believe we live in a zero-sum game where a gain by me is at your expense. This is patently false.  A gain by me in the areas of justice and civil rights is a gain for all of us.  We measure the strength of our society not by the will of the stronger but by our ability to protect the vulnerable and give voice to the otherwise unheard and exploited.

I did not have much use for Kanye West before these recent rantings, and I have none now.  Irving’s comments are likewise repugnant.  And I do not need to patronize brands that undermine the “arc of justice” to which we as Americans should aspire.  I support the right to free speech even when it contradicts my values.  But words have consequences; Hate speech leads to violence and injustice. That is un-American, where all of us are called to draw the line.

Did I Make a Difference?

Parshat Devarim

Did I make a difference?
This timeless question is in Moses’ heart as Devarim, the first parsha of Deuteronomy, as he recounts the trials and tribulations from Egypt to the edge of the Promised Land.
He has led the people faithfully, but the old generation is gone. Moses prepares for his death, Joshua is appointed the new leader and a new generation of people formed and steeled in the crucible of the Midbar prepares to move forward, leaving Moses behind.
Moses’ recollections are slightly different than what we read as things occurred along the journey. Despite pushback from the people and God, he places himself in the spotlight as the true champion in every circumstance.
Elie Weisel suggests, “Some stories are true that never happened.” Indeed, memories often are the recalling of experiences based on the values that helped us understand those experiences and shaped us.
It has been an often-fraught relationship, with the people wanting to rebel and turn back, factions acting out against Moses and Moses saving the people from God’s wrath. Moses recounts things through the filter of his memory and the desire to be remembered for his accomplishments as the person who brought B’nei Israel into nationhood and to the Promised Land, following God’s direction. But now, it is Joshua’s turn as God’s chosen successor.
We sense the tension in the transition as Moses recounts the extraordinary experiences thus far under his tutelage. Although we consider Moses most humble, even he needs to see that his time has meaning, his life was for a purpose and the people he served appreciate all he has done.
We are on the verge of a new chapter. At the edge of the Promised Land, the needs are different. New and fresh leadership is required to meet the new tests, the challenges of a new generation and the new enterprise of taking the land and dwelling in it. But this transition is often abrupt and dismissive, without the respect the elders have earned.
Can we elevate the process by offering sincere gratitude and recognizing this as a “shehecheyanu” moment? Can we maintain a respectful place for those soon-to-be former leaders as curators of wisdom and institutional memory? This kind of transition is a process, not a moment. And the lessons of the Torah are timely. Change a name and the setting, and we are talking about us.
The pandemic accelerated many changes already underway in our culture and society. Legacy institutions have struggled with membership and age; leaders are finding they do not speak a language that resonates with the next generation to engage them successfully; identity is more fluid than ever.
For many clergy leaders, the time has come to leave the pulpit and make way for the new group of leaders. Can we find ways to usher this change along, honoring the past while looking to the future? I suggest that although the methods may differ, the Torah’s enduring values remain constant.
We will lose much if we cannot embrace the old while turning toward the new. It is about giving our people both roots and wings, to liken it to parenting.
It validates who we as parents are, the nurturers and teachers. The values they learn are the values we taught. The ability to find meaning is grounded in the world in which we raised them. This is a moment of extraordinary challenge, and the opportunities are practically unlimited. We brought them along on this remarkable journey to this particular point.
Now they, the next generation, must move forward, leaving us behind, but carrying us in their hearts and minds. This is the underlying message of the phrase, Zichronam Livracha, may their memories be for a blessing.
May we live our lives to bring honor to a tradition grounded in morals and ethics and understand that we live in service to something greater. And may the next generation honor us by doing the same.
This piece was originally published by the Jewish Exponent. 

Torah for Jews Today – Parshat Matot

Matot offers a climax to one of the troubling stories in the formation of our people.

 

On the verge of entering the Promised Land, the children of Israel must fight the Midianite people first. Although Moses instructs his warriors, according to God’s directive, to slay all the Midianites, Moses is angered when the army spares the women and children and reiterates the command to kill.

Were the Israelite people freed so they would unquestioningly carry out God’s dirty work? Or was this a test to see if we were worthy of freedom and the responsibilities such freedom carries? Were we ready to serve God as a righteous light to the nations? The army commanders understood the implications of this barbaric act and refused to follow the order. Moses overruled them, demanding harsh vengeance.

This kind of retaliation is appalling by our standards, and it was unacceptable for the Israelites, too. The phrase “Just following orders” sends shudders down the spine. But, even where legitimate grievance exists, morality trumps brutal vengeance. Matot is a warning for us and our interaction in an often inhospitable, antisemitic world.

However, the past cannot be the only lens we use to see the future. There was legitimate grievance against the Midianites. They attempted to undermine the nascent Israelite nation, and war appeared to be the way forward. But following orders is insufficient reason to commit atrocities. God’s vengeance is best left for God to transact (the flood, Sodom and the Korach Rebellion, to name three).

When individuals assume that responsibility and act on behalf of God, it is dangerous. A humane approach offers compassion instead of annihilation and a path toward peace. This alternative does not dismiss the history but does not make us slaves to the past, repeating and perpetuating tribalistic hate. Our tradition repeatedly admonishes us to act with benevolence and, in the words of Pirkei Avot, “Even in a place where there are no menschen, strive to be a mensch.”

Against this backdrop, we might look again at the lessons of this part of the parsha and see how we can apply them in many current world affairs and, in particular, to the situation with the Russian war’s effects on Ukrainians and Poles. We cannot be indifferent to human suffering; it goes against everything our tradition demands.

Jewish history in Ukraine and Poland is fraught. Persecution and antisemitism characterize much of the Jewish experience. Periods of welcome, such as King Casimir III inviting Jews to Poland as other countries expelled them, are countered by the infamous Khmelnytskyi and pogroms, which accounted for the slaughter and terror of the Jewish population of the region. It is little wonder that approximately 2 million-plus Jews emigrated to America at the turn of the 20th century when the opportunity to leave that place presented itself.

Furthermore, we understand that deeply rooted antisemitism enabled the Holocaust. These are substantial reasons for the Jewish psyche to be wary. But if we are limited to only that, practicing hatred in response to hate, we deprive ourselves of the very humanity our tradition teaches.

We Jews are duty-bound to see and respond to the Ukrainian people’s human suffering and the Poles’ heroic efforts. We know that the support by the Poles is something no one offered us as the Shoah unfolded. And knowing this, we can nonetheless be instruments in alleviating anguish and perhaps elevating ourselves in the process.

We can serve as Or l’goyim, a light to the nations, deeply rooted in our belief that we can be agents of change; partners in the ongoing act of creation; that we hear of the suffering and do not stand idly by as another’s blood is shed. Our values compel us to be part of the solution to the problem rather than remain mired in a history where we were seen as the problem needing to be solved.

Of course, we do not deny the past or naively presume the days of Jew-hatred are over. But we can take steps to help the world become a better place. This is a lesson I learned from Parsha Matot.

Show your support for the victims of war with your donation.  For each donation of $54, we will send you the Ukrainian Sunflower to wear proudly and keep us aware you stand against the suffering.  Proceeds are going to the JCC Krakow, a leader in helping Ukrainian refugees.

 

Don’t Buy this Kippah

Don’t buy this kippah

In fact, it is not for sale. We are not selling the Sunflower Ukrainian Kippah. Instead, we ask for your contributions to support the overwhelming needs of the Ukrainian and Polish people dealing with the horrible war that rages in Ukraine.

 

The JCC of Krakow is on the front lines of helping people through this tragedy.

With your donation, we are sending you this kippah as a way of saying thank you for your help and as a way for you to stand publicly, proudly,  and Jewishly in support of this humanitarian cause.

Please join us.

#standwithUkraine

Kippah