A guy is driving through a residential area and drives through a red light. A police officer emerges from behind the corner and pulls the guy over. Before giving the guy a ticket the officer asks him, “Didn’t you see the red light?” The guy says, “I saw the red light, officer. I just didn’t see you.”
We behave differently when we think we are being watched than when we think we’re not being watched. Often we are more likely to do the right thing when we think we’re being watched.
But sometimes it goes the other way. The people we are with discourage us from doing what we know to be right. They make us feel like we can’t choose to act based on our principles.
When we’re in middle school, and peer pressure is persistent and sometimes nasty, we say, I may not have been so nice to so-and-so who didn’t deserve it, but “what choice did I have?” It was middle school.
As we mature, we may still find ourselves influenced by peer pressure. We may want to voice opposition to something we know to be wrong but we hold back. We may say to ourselves, "Perhaps I should say or do something, but it would meet with the disapproval of my peers. What choice do I have?"
I want us to think about the times we say, or feel, some version of “what choice do I have?” How can I speak up at the Shabbat table when I see someone acting insensitively toward someone else? How can I join a protest regarding a political issue I know to be problematic? How can I say or do something that will have family, friends, peers wondering what’s wrong with me?
I want to reflect on this using some examples and then I’ll share a few words of Torah that I hope will help illuminate what I’m trying to say.
There’s a woman in Israel who is trying to secure a seat in Israel’s parliament, in the Knesset. She is trying to gain a seat through Israel’s labor party. So far that might not seem unusual. Except that she grew up in B’nai Brak as part of a Haredi/ultra-Orthodox community that she STILL considers herself part of. Her name is Michal Zernowitski and she is the first ultra-Orthodox woman to run for a Labor seat in the Knesset. Her politics have changed considerable since she was younger - she’s now all of 37.
She has taken steps in the past that are rather unusual for her community, including getting a BA in computer science at a college geared toward ultra-orthodox students. Anyway, her politics are now very much consistent with the Labor party - she supports a two-state solution and has progressive economic views. In an interview with Israeli newspaper Haaretz she said that there are thousands of ultra-Orthodox Jews who “no longer vote automatically for ultra-Orthodox parties, who want change and who believe in equality, social justice and peace.” (Haaretz, January 9, 2019)
I speak about her because I believe that many of us are apprehensive about stating views that are unpopular in our circles. I imagine that what she is doing has caused some pushback in her community. Nevertheless, she is not saying, “what choice do I have?” She is making choices that reflect what she believes is right.
Last year, as many of you know, I participated in a social justice program through American Jewish World Service. As we were preparing in NY for our trip to Guatemala, where human rights violations by the way have gotten worse and not better, we had a conversation about how rabbis in congregations are dealing with political issues.
Often rabbis feel pressured - whatever they choose to say or do, they face a risk. If they say something liberal the conservatives are annoyed. If they say something conservative the liberals are annoyed. If they avoid contentious issues altogether they are accused of being irrelevant.
Overall I have chosen to speak and to advocate when I believe that current issues have an ethical dimension that derives from Jewish values. So I did speak, for example, and write, and send a message to the congregation, and encourage people others to speak out, when parents and children were being separated at our border. I do speak out when people are being discriminated against based on their sexuality or gender or religion or ethnicity or race. And I will continue to do that.
In some ways it might be easier for me to look at this very politically diverse congregation and say, “what choice do I have? I’ll just avoid controversy altogether.” But that doesn’t feel right at all. In fact, it feels like an abdication of my moral responsibility as a leader.
I don’t want to spend any more time talking about myself or Michal Zernowitski. Instead I want to ask everyone here the following questions:
Do you feel free to speak and to act in ways that reflect your true values?
Do you feel to speak your mind in front of family and friends even if it differs from what you think others believe? And if not, why not? And what are you prepared to do about it?
And here’s the piece of Torah I’d like you to consider. In this week’s parasha, we read about how Pharaoh finally relents and agrees to let the Israelites go. So many Biblical scholars have asked the question about whether Pharaoh was truly free to choose how to act toward the Israelites. After all, the Torah tells us that God told Moses כי אני הכבדתי את לבו ואת לב עבדיו למען שתי אותותי אלה בקרבו ki ani hikhbadti et libo v’et lev avadav lema’an sheetee ototai elei bikirbo. I hardened Pharoah’s hearts and the hearts of his servants in order to demonstrate my great actions in his midst. (Exodus 10:1)
Commentator after commentator wonders - was Pharaoh free? Was he not? Could he legitimately have said what we say, “What choice did I have?”
I have an answer which is less sophisticated and much simpler than the answers given by Rashi and Cassuto and Ramban. My answer is - it’s a story. It’s a story about God wanting to demonstrate God’s greatness and Pharaoh being a tool to help bring that about.
But folks - I am here to tell you that much of our tradition, especially post-Biblical, asserts that we are free agents. הכל צפוי מראש והרשות נתונה Hakol tzafui merosh vehareshut netuna. Everything is known ahead of time, said Rabbi Akiva, but still we have choice.
As the group Rush famously sings, “If you decide not to choose, you still have made a choice.”
So how will we use our choice? The first time that we speak up at the Shabbat table, or while clearing the table, or at the supermarket, or in the middle school cafeteria, it’s really hard. But it gets better.
As we begin to see the positive effects of speaking and acting out of our convictions, the answer to “what choice do I have?” becomes, “how can I not?"
Every day we have the choice to align our words and actions with our core principles and beliefs.
So what are we waiting for?
Originally shared with the Temple Israel of Great Neck community on January 12, 2019, Parshat Bo
We behave differently when we think we are being watched than when we think we’re not being watched. Often we are more likely to do the right thing when we think we’re being watched.
But sometimes it goes the other way. The people we are with discourage us from doing what we know to be right. They make us feel like we can’t choose to act based on our principles.
When we’re in middle school, and peer pressure is persistent and sometimes nasty, we say, I may not have been so nice to so-and-so who didn’t deserve it, but “what choice did I have?” It was middle school.
As we mature, we may still find ourselves influenced by peer pressure. We may want to voice opposition to something we know to be wrong but we hold back. We may say to ourselves, "Perhaps I should say or do something, but it would meet with the disapproval of my peers. What choice do I have?"
I want us to think about the times we say, or feel, some version of “what choice do I have?” How can I speak up at the Shabbat table when I see someone acting insensitively toward someone else? How can I join a protest regarding a political issue I know to be problematic? How can I say or do something that will have family, friends, peers wondering what’s wrong with me?
I want to reflect on this using some examples and then I’ll share a few words of Torah that I hope will help illuminate what I’m trying to say.
There’s a woman in Israel who is trying to secure a seat in Israel’s parliament, in the Knesset. She is trying to gain a seat through Israel’s labor party. So far that might not seem unusual. Except that she grew up in B’nai Brak as part of a Haredi/ultra-Orthodox community that she STILL considers herself part of. Her name is Michal Zernowitski and she is the first ultra-Orthodox woman to run for a Labor seat in the Knesset. Her politics have changed considerable since she was younger - she’s now all of 37.
She has taken steps in the past that are rather unusual for her community, including getting a BA in computer science at a college geared toward ultra-orthodox students. Anyway, her politics are now very much consistent with the Labor party - she supports a two-state solution and has progressive economic views. In an interview with Israeli newspaper Haaretz she said that there are thousands of ultra-Orthodox Jews who “no longer vote automatically for ultra-Orthodox parties, who want change and who believe in equality, social justice and peace.” (Haaretz, January 9, 2019)
I speak about her because I believe that many of us are apprehensive about stating views that are unpopular in our circles. I imagine that what she is doing has caused some pushback in her community. Nevertheless, she is not saying, “what choice do I have?” She is making choices that reflect what she believes is right.
Last year, as many of you know, I participated in a social justice program through American Jewish World Service. As we were preparing in NY for our trip to Guatemala, where human rights violations by the way have gotten worse and not better, we had a conversation about how rabbis in congregations are dealing with political issues.
Often rabbis feel pressured - whatever they choose to say or do, they face a risk. If they say something liberal the conservatives are annoyed. If they say something conservative the liberals are annoyed. If they avoid contentious issues altogether they are accused of being irrelevant.
Overall I have chosen to speak and to advocate when I believe that current issues have an ethical dimension that derives from Jewish values. So I did speak, for example, and write, and send a message to the congregation, and encourage people others to speak out, when parents and children were being separated at our border. I do speak out when people are being discriminated against based on their sexuality or gender or religion or ethnicity or race. And I will continue to do that.
In some ways it might be easier for me to look at this very politically diverse congregation and say, “what choice do I have? I’ll just avoid controversy altogether.” But that doesn’t feel right at all. In fact, it feels like an abdication of my moral responsibility as a leader.
I don’t want to spend any more time talking about myself or Michal Zernowitski. Instead I want to ask everyone here the following questions:
Do you feel free to speak and to act in ways that reflect your true values?
Do you feel to speak your mind in front of family and friends even if it differs from what you think others believe? And if not, why not? And what are you prepared to do about it?
And here’s the piece of Torah I’d like you to consider. In this week’s parasha, we read about how Pharaoh finally relents and agrees to let the Israelites go. So many Biblical scholars have asked the question about whether Pharaoh was truly free to choose how to act toward the Israelites. After all, the Torah tells us that God told Moses כי אני הכבדתי את לבו ואת לב עבדיו למען שתי אותותי אלה בקרבו ki ani hikhbadti et libo v’et lev avadav lema’an sheetee ototai elei bikirbo. I hardened Pharoah’s hearts and the hearts of his servants in order to demonstrate my great actions in his midst. (Exodus 10:1)
Commentator after commentator wonders - was Pharaoh free? Was he not? Could he legitimately have said what we say, “What choice did I have?”
I have an answer which is less sophisticated and much simpler than the answers given by Rashi and Cassuto and Ramban. My answer is - it’s a story. It’s a story about God wanting to demonstrate God’s greatness and Pharaoh being a tool to help bring that about.
But folks - I am here to tell you that much of our tradition, especially post-Biblical, asserts that we are free agents. הכל צפוי מראש והרשות נתונה Hakol tzafui merosh vehareshut netuna. Everything is known ahead of time, said Rabbi Akiva, but still we have choice.
As the group Rush famously sings, “If you decide not to choose, you still have made a choice.”
So how will we use our choice? The first time that we speak up at the Shabbat table, or while clearing the table, or at the supermarket, or in the middle school cafeteria, it’s really hard. But it gets better.
As we begin to see the positive effects of speaking and acting out of our convictions, the answer to “what choice do I have?” becomes, “how can I not?"
Every day we have the choice to align our words and actions with our core principles and beliefs.
So what are we waiting for?
Originally shared with the Temple Israel of Great Neck community on January 12, 2019, Parshat Bo
No comments:
Post a Comment