Brothers and Sisters

I’m nervous.  Last week, we spoke about an incident where some Haredi/ultra-Orthodox Jews in Israel were harassing young girls walking to school because they felt that they weren’t dressed modestly enough. 

Shortly after that episode took place, in response to demonstrations against their behavior, a small group had their children dressed in concentration camp outfits, including Jewish stars, implying that the Israeli government was persecuting them the way the Nazis persecuted Jews.

Both actions created a negative uproar, as well they should have.  Elie Weisel, quoted in Ha’aretz, said "I never thought they'd stoop to such a low. How dare they? To both desecrate the honor of the State of Israel and the memory of the Holocaust?"

Israeli government officials condemned the behavior, along with many Orthodox and ultra-Orthodox leaders. 

Rabbi Julie Schonfeld, Executive Director of the Rabbinical Assembly, wrote a reaction, as did Rachel Delia Benaim, news editor of the Yeshiva University Observer.  I want to give you the essence of their reactions and my sense of how they can each guide us moving forward.

In her article, “The world needs more light,” Rabbi Schonfeld makes the following points:
 

First, the image that the protesters sought to invoke, and ultimately perverted, is a supremely powerful one.  The image of children being rounded up on a street in Warsaw reminds us that we cannot be complacent even in the midst of our most sophisticated cities and that we must constantly be vigilant.   The protesters perverted that, using it for their own purposes, making a heinous comparison between the Israeli government and Nazi regime. 

Second, the protesters, while ostensibly presenting themselves as models of authentic Judaism, were perpetrating Hillul Hashem, a desecration of God’s name. 

She writes, “The protestors in Saturday night’s images are not defined as they suppose, by practice of Jewish religion, but by a fetishized expression of themselves—an obsession with alienation and victimization, bordering on mania.”

Third, for too long, actions that include spitting and throwing rocks at those deemed insufficiently observant have not been adequately confronted and punished.

Fourth, those who organized the protests portrayed a Judaism of victimization and darkness.  Rabbi Schonfeld encourages her readers to send pictures of themselves to a specially designated website page.  

She writes, “we must share with each other the images of Judaism as we embrace life today – we are not victims, we are people of light, joy and justice.”

The second article I refer to was written by the Rachel Delia Benaim, News Editor for the Yeshiva University Observer.  It appeared in the Jerusalem Post and she wrote it as an open letter to the protesters, starting by telling them that their protest broke her heart.

She goes on to say that in the past she has defended Haredi Jews.  To those who have accused them of stealing from the state of Israel and running it into the ground by depleting its resources disproportionately to their productivity, she said it’s not so simple. 

But now she finds herself questioning their connection to the Jewish people.  She writes, “It pains me to say this, but you are the opposite of the Arab Spring. Citizens all over the region are calling for democracy, freedom and liberalism, whereas you are calling for... what, exactly?  A theocracy?  The removal of all those freedoms that Israel provides for its citizens?

And she goes on to describe how Torah learning has always recognized multiple perspectives.  She writes, “You may disagree with Western values and culture, but the Torah to which you claim to adhere isn’t a rigid code of existence. The Talmud itself says the Torah has “70 faces” – the oral tradition is full of disagreements for the sake of heaven.  You claim to adhere to Torah, but to which Torah do you adhere?  Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef and others denounced your behavior.  Are they also to be compared to Nazis? “

Ultimately, she appeals to her coreligionists to work within the system, to be prepared to compromise if necessary.  She concludes by urging against baseless hatred, which destroyed Jewish entities in the past, and with the following appeal:  “Please, my brothers, I implore you. We must work together to strengthen our homeland.”

These are two excellent articles, similar in some respects and different in others.  I want to share with you what I think we can learn from these pieces and the event to which they respond:

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1.     Let us not be ashamed of how we practice as Jews. To the contrary, if our approach is open, let us celebrate that.  If our approach is joyful, let us celebrate that.  Go onto sharethelight and share pictures, by all means, but share it in real life, not just in cyberspace.  Share it at services here, around Shabbat and festival tables here and at home.  Let us proudly and joyfully, not arrogantly, not without self-criticism, but proudly and joyfully embrace who we are.

2.     Let us not generalize about other people based on labels or affiliations.   The news editor of the newspaper Yeshiva University, bastion of modern Orthodoxy is, first of all, female, not something everyone might expect if we were to allow our generalizations and preconceived notions to get the better of us.  She writes lovingly but honestly about the need for tolerance, freedom and democracy in Israel, not something everyone might expect were we to allow our generalizations and preconceived notions to get the better of us.  In fact, while there are differences in emphasis and in prescription to be sure, there’s actually quite an overlap between her comments and perspective and those of Rabbi Schonfeld, executive director of the Conservative Rabbinical Assembly.

3.     Let’s fight outrageous behavior, but let’s not give up hope that people who act outrageously may some day grow to think and act differently.  When I looked at those pictures of the children dressed up as they were, I grew angry and mortified and sad.  Many thoughts ran through my head.  Here is one of the most disturbing thoughts I had.  What will this mean for the actual children who are dressed up?  What impact does this have on them?  In what other ways are they being raised to think that the leadership of the Jewish state are their enemies?  Now I know that the author of the open letter is a young woman and some may say, “Ms. Delia Benaim, the people you are addressing don’t read the Jerusalem Post and if they did, they wouldn’t read your article because your name is Rachel and not Reuven.”  I get it.  But good for her to address herself to the perpetrators honestly, but also hopefully.  There are exceptions to what I’m about to say, but more often than we believe, there is hope.  One can criticize, prosecute even, and still leave an opening.

The final chapters of Gensis bring some closure to a story rife with animosity.  In the story of Joseph, we see hatred bubbling over to the point where a group of brothers are prepared to kill one of their own or, at the very least, leave him behind in certain danger.

Why did they hate him?   Because of his dreams, because of his attitude, maybe there was more that isn’t explicitly stated. 

But the story doesn’t stop there.  Joseph is brought down to Egypt, the brothers meet up with him, he tests them, he wrestles with his own ambivalent feelings, he overhears them express regret at what they did for him and then something happens which demonstrates that they are ready to do business differently.

Joseph keeps Benjamin behind, says to the brothers, “the rest of you are free to go” and this time – they don’t leave a brother behind.  With brother Judah’s example, they take responsibility for each other. 

I know – they didn’t have the same static on the line with Benjamin as they did with Joseph.  I know – maybe their expression of remorse was more anguish over having ended up in a lousy situation than genuine regret at how they treated Joseph.  More “we got caught” than “we did wrong.”  But they acted differently.   Judah sets an example of what it means to put yourself on the line and the dynamic does actually change.

The brothers had said, before Joseph revealed himself, Kulanu b’nei ish echad nachnu – we are all the children of one father. 

And one commentator said, it was a moment of divine inspiration.  They were talking about themselves – here we are, all of us the children of one father.  But unwittingly, they expressed a deeper truth – all of us, including you, Mr. Second in Command to Pharaoh – are all the children of one father.

Subconsciously, they included Joseph in their statement because maybe, deep down, they yearned to recognize that he was part of them and they were part of him.

A lot going was on under the surface.  And in the end – no brother left behind, no sister left behind.

Isaiah takes it a step further.  Egypt becomes the new Israel and Assyria becomes the new Israel and I would say, “kulanu b’nei ish echad nachnu” – we are all the children of the same parent – becomes an extraordinary expression of what ought to be and what might be on the level of all humanity.

So.  In the real world, often we doubt each other and generalize about each other and we don’t necessarily take the time to really talk and the divides deepen. 

And some people do act in ways that are absolutely heinous at times, to varying degrees.  Abject evil just needs to be defeated.  Ugly behavior requires censure and condemnation.  But sometimes, there are openings that we might as well explore.

Will those Jews who dressed their children up in the demonstration ever, EVER recognize the error of their ways and conduct themselves differently?  Who knows.  If they see that those they respect oppose their behavior vociferously, perhaps.  If they see that their brothers and sisters are not writing off the possibility that they might conduct themselves differently, perhaps.

As for the editor at YU, the head of the Rabbinical Assembly, our brothers and sisters in this community and beyond this community who may see the world differently than we do at times – I say, let’s invest more energy in saying, and living, the statement of our ancestors, the first family of Israel – kulanu b’nei ish echad nachnu.  We’re brothers and sisters here, we have the same parents. 

As the children of Jacob painfully grew to understand, we cannot afford to leave each other behind.

So we celebrate our approach and don’t let others put us down.  And we should not hesitate to castigate each other when we are out of bounds.  And we should leave our doors and our hearts open to trying to understand each other a little better each day. 

The more we do all of that, the less nervous I’ll be.
  
Originally delivered on January 7, 2012 at Temple Israel of Great Neck