Friday, February 3, 2017

I am returning after a long absence from my blog.

I can’t turn off the news. I can’t silence the noise and the falsehoods and the deflections. They overwhelm us at every turn. I would love to delete Facebook and especially the political posts, but I can’t. And I can’t be silent and I can’t stand idly by while my neighbors emotionally or physically bleed. I am writing today because I, like you are drowning in a sea of information and have to decide what to do. What can I do?

I am also writing because we are a diverse community. There are some on the left and some on the right. Jews don’t just vote on one side of the ticket. We are as diverse as the general population and in many ways, more highly engaged in whatever path we take. I heard this following the election and I know it to be true. And yet, we are one people with one distinct heritage and history that must bear fruit for our world to grow and move forward.

As a rabbi, I feel the pain of millions of Americans and guests in our country who fear the direction that our country is heading. I embraced my friend, Imam Faisal, when his mosque was set on fire. I, with Cantor David, expressed our support of MAPS when their sign was destroyed twice. I have lived on the Texas/Mexico border and know of divided families and the dangers of walls. I fear the isolationism to which we are heading. And my email is filled each morning with new groups calling for our help in ensuring a safe and secure future for our community.

To whom do we turn? Where do we as Jews find comfort or solace or spiritual direction? As you know I always turn to Torah which speaks loudly today from our collective experience of yesterday. And what does it teach? In Genesis, we learn early on that all living beings are created in the Divine image. There is no distinction of color, place of origin, gender. And we are told in Exodus, “You shall not wrong a stranger or oppress him…You shall not ill-treat any widow or orphan…”. The stranger, the widow, the orphan — these represent all people who are vulnerable. I and others have added that in our time, that extends to people of color, to LGBTQ people, to those of other faiths, to immigrants, to women and to the disabled.

The Judaism in which I was raised is a prophetic faith. One built around Judaism speaking truth to power. There were Prophets who dressed down kings. People from humble backgrounds who, using the sacred words of Torah, sought to right the world and guide it down a more divinely centered path. I speak of the peaceable kingdom spoken by Isaiah. In Isaiah 11,
“He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; … The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. They will not hurt or destroy on all My holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.

To me, that is what is happening now. It has been over 50 years since the Civil Rights era. In those days, marchers filled the streets with signs and placards calling on our country to transform, to embrace one another. It was not an easy time and many tragic moments happened during those dark days. And many of the rights which many of us fought for are being challenged again as some in our country want to roll back the clock to a time past.

I feel that we are in a second civil rights era. Our values are being challenged and we are once again forced into falling on our faith for guidance and strength. And we are being called for action. Not to be silent observers, but to speak our truth to power. To pick up placards, to call your representatives in Washington DC, to voice your concerns and your faith and your fears to those in power, these are our sacred duties.

We are Abraham and Sara, who greeted strangers at their tent in the wilderness with open arms. We are Moses and Tzipporah, people from diverse faith backgrounds who came together to lead a mixed multitude of peoples to the Promised Land. We are immigrants and native born, from parts west and east, who have come here to make a life for our families. We have fled oppression and exile and found a home beneath the flame of liberty. And we are the people of The Book, whose sacred treasure tells the story of our people through good times and bad. It has guided us through darkness and has led countless generations towards the light.

Judaism speaks volumes here.

It is not in the heavens, that you should say, “Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?” Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?” No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it. (Deut 30: 12-14)

So as your rabbi, and in keeping with our sacred calling, I call on you. Empower your passions and seize this moment to bring our faith to bear on those in positions of national leadership. Do not feel powerless to act, do not feel that our tradition calls for disengagement. Dig deep into your own family and faith story and find the fuel for your own action. Do not let this moment pass by without your engagement. That is what Judaism demands of us!

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi David A. Lipper