Persistence and Respect: Learning From the Mess

We know that we can tend to romanticize the past.

When I was the rabbi in a previous congregation, a woman in my office would frequently tell me that her parents, in their eighties, had a tumultuous relationship with pretty frequent loud disagreements.

When her father passed away, her mother, shortly after the funeral, she said to her daughter, “you know, dad and I occasionally had our differences.”

Her daughter didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  She said, “mom, just a few months ago you and dad were arguing so strongly I had to literally pull you apart!”

Mind you, the mother may have had fonder feelings for her husband than she let on all along.  And perhaps his passing softened her feelings and her tone. 

But we know that we claim and reclaim the past in all kinds of ways.

On Shavuot Night, this upcoming Tuesday, we’re going to be looking at the questions “why we disagree” and “what we might do about it.”

In addition to studying traditional texts, we will hear a talk by Dr. Jonathan Haidt, a social psychologist at NYU.

He has extensively studied the origins of morality.  What makes people hold the beliefs that they do about politics and social issues.

Why do some favor gun control and marriage equality while others are firmly opposed?

Why do some believe in extensive government-supported safety nets and others do not?

In a video that I sent to the congregation, Professor Haidt bemoans the extraordinary rift between left and right today and the inability to collaborate. 

He points out that there was a time of greater bipartisan collaboration, following World War II, when Democrats and Republicans, liberals and conservatives, compromised on legislation in order to make progress.

I understand that, but I would say that overall, in the history of our country, there was fierce partisan fighting and little compromise.  And we can learn from those times as well.

Over 200 years ago, Abigail Adams advised her husband to steer clear of the predators in congress.  He and Thomas Jefferson didn’t talk for years following a political blowout.

And what can we say about the animosity which surfaced, nearly a century later, during Lincoln’s administration, where cabinet members distrusted one another profoundly and 11 states walked out on the Union.

Facts are stubborn things, as Adams liked to say.  The past is often more tumultuous than we like to recall.

Looking at American history, it seems that there were quite a few years characterized by animosity, rather than cooperation.

We could look at the history of our people. 

We’ve entered Book IV of the Torah and soon enough we will read how Korah challenges Moses’s authority, as do Moses’s brother and sister.

In the centuries that follow, there will be huge power struggles among the prophets, the kings and the priests. 

Centuries after that, rabbis will on occasion trounce their opponents, like the time Rabban Gamliel humiliated Rabbi Joshua in front of the academy.

And today, as the Women of the Wall gathered to pray at the kotel, they were confronted by haredi men and women.  Some of the men threw rocks at the women who were praying and many of the women came early so that they could secure the part of the plaza near the wall itself, preventing the Women of the Wall from moving closer.

One teenage girl who came with her school to protest said, “I’m here so they won’t be. It’s forbidden for them to be here. It’s allowed by the court, but it’s forbidden by God. If I’m here, there won’t be room for them.” 

I find that it’s most effective to confront the past and the present realistically.  And when it comes to interactions among people who disagree, the reality was, and is, largely a mess.

But we can, and should, learn even from the mess.

Here is what we might learn:

When it comes to issues of principle, opinions on both sides are deeply held and you can’t easily convince people to change their minds.

The women who oppose the Women of the Wall feel very strongly that they are right to do so, no less strongly than the Women of the Wall feel themselves.

However, with persistence and respect, progress can take place.

The need for persistence is obvious.

The need for respect may be less so.

Lincoln succeeded because he respected even the southern slave owners.  He acknowledged their right to their perspective even though he disagreed.

It seems that the combination of persistence AND respect allowed him to strike the right balance.  He compromised when necessary and pushed his agenda when he could. 

The staunch abolitionists thought he was knuckling under at various times during the election and his actual presidency but in the end, he was the one who got elected and the Emancipation Proclamation, which exceeded even their expectations, was issued during his tenure. 

Will Natan Scharansky rise to the level of Lincolnesque  statesmanship as the fate of the Kotel is determined? 

I certainly hope so. 

Hopefully, someone will look at footage of Jews fighting with Jews at the Kotel and say, “what can we learn from this?”

Can the passion and principle of both sides be acknowledged, without giving sanction to the harassment of women who are trying to pray?

Can a teenage girl who says “If I’m here, there’s no room for you” be asked to confront the passage in the Torah that describes God’s revelation, when kol ha’am yahdav, all the people together, responded?  Can she be asked to consider why there’s not enough room at the Kotel when there was enough room at Sinai?

Is it possible to move, respectfully and persistently, toward a Kotel that more accurately represents the diversity of the Jewish people?

I hope so.

There are three Jewish festivals that have their roots as Biblical harvest celebrations.  Sukkot.  Pesach.  And Shavuot.

Sukkot and Pesach both begin in the middle of their respective Jewish months, when there’s a full moon.

Shavuot begins on the 6^th day of the month of Sivan when there’s a slice of moon visible, but not quite even half.

I think that the not-quite-half moon on the holiday that celebrates God’s revelation, the so-called “giving of the Torah,” is a suitable symbol for that holiday.

To disagree with other people about what God wants or doesn’t and what Torah means in its narrow and broader context is to start in a place that’s “less than half.” 

Just as the moon reaches fullness in the coming days, so can we if, using the moon as our motivation, we commit to engaging those with whom we disagree.

We don’t necessarily have to “win,” but we should seek greater fullness as we approach those who see things differently with respect and persistence.  And of course, we have to prepared for their response.

Let’s not pretend that the past was neater than it was.  The past was often a mess.  But our history, as Americans and Jews, suggests that we can learn even from the mess.  The need to continue to do so has never been greater.

Originally delivered at Temple Israel of Great Neck on May 11, 2013.