Navigating with Wisdom and Strength

GPS is very convenient for sure but I joke with our kids that they need GPS to drive from our house to the train station.  Because they emerged as drivers with GPS as part of their reality, they have a poorer sense of direction than they otherwise would. Their internal navigation system is diminished because they don’t have to rely on it so much.

Norbert Friedman (1923-2019)

In general navigation is becoming a lost art.  I’m not thinking now about driving to the train station.  I’m thinking about navigating complex situations.  And while I could give all kinds of examples, specifically I want us to think about how the Jewish community is navigating the realities that we face which include, sadly and ominously, a rise in Antisemitism in Europe and the United States along with systemic infringements on the rights of others.

How do we navigate?  Do we protect ourselves?  Do we protect others?

Do we build walls?  Do we build bridges?  How do we determine who are our friends and who are our enemies?

The same way that GPS for all of its value may be causing our capacity to navigate on the road to atrophy, I am concerned that social media for all of its value may be causing our capacity to navigate complex social and political realties to be less sharp than it once was. 

Just a few days ago, I found out about the death of someone I care about, someone who had a strong impact on me, someone who knew how to navigate life’s complexities.  I want to say a few words about him because he deserves it but also because reflecting on his life, I believe, will be illuminating for all of us.

Norbert Friedman died a few days ago at the age of 96.  He survived the Holocaust and was imprisoned in 11 concentration camps.  He lived for many years in West Hempstead and I got to know him well as his rabbi for 7 years.  

Norbert was smart, funny and at times deliciously irreverent.  He was a dynamic speaker and he took it upon himself to bear witness to the horrific events of his youth in order, as he put it, “to draw positive lessons from Man’s most tragic experience.”

In 1996, when I became the rabbi of the JCC of West Hempstead, Norbert began to work as an educator at the Museum of Jewish Heritage in Manhattan.  He also worked at the Holocaust Center in Glen Cove and other local institutions and when he moved to Atlanta he continued to be involved in holocaust education.

Norbert worked with all ages, but he had a special gift for working with teenagers and he made a point of speaking to groups of teens of a variety of economic, ethnic and racial backgrounds.

Norbert understood better than most the fragility of the Jewish people and the danger of hatred left unchecked.  He was a fierce protector of the Jewish people, a passionate Zionist who was wary of subtle and not-so-subtle attacks on Israel’s security and legitimacy.

Norbert also understood that in order to protect everyone, including the Jewish people, you needed to build bridges with people of all backgrounds.  He did this especially well with younger people. 

Norbert could be tough.  It wasn’t fun to be on the opposite side of a disagreement with him.  But he was also remarkably sensitive. 

Norbert had no illusions that Antisemitism continued to be a real threat throughout his lifetime but he did not want other people’s hatred of Jews to define the Jewish experience.  Knowing about all of his work with young people, I once asked him, when you speak with Jewish youth in particular, what is the most important thing you want them to know about being Jewish?

I will never forgot what he said.  He said, simcha shel mitzvah.  The joy that comes from doing a mitzvah.  That’s what he wanted young people to know.  The joy that comes from doing what’s right.

So although Norbert experienced unspeakable horrors by virtue of being Jewish, he did not believe that suffering or victimhood was the essence of being Jewish; he believed that doing right in the world was the essence of being Jewish and that this would lead to real joy, not the fleeting kind for which he had little patience.

So why am I sharing all of this with you this morning?  Ultimately because the more I think about Norbert, the more I realize that he knew how to navigate.

Protecting the self, yet also reaching out to the other. 

Tough when necessary, but also compassionate.

Angry at life's injustices, yet ultimately committed to pursuing true and lasting joy.  

I am seeing two trends in the Jewish community that disturb me.  One is a universalist trend that fails to give proper attention to the legitimate dangers that face the Jewish people.  Regarding this trend, I invoke the words of a rabbi I heard speak over 30 years when I was studying in England, speaking of Antisemitism.  He said, Sometimes our minds are so open that our brains fall out.

We shouldn't downplay the dangers that Jews face whatever the race or religion or political perspective of the perpetrator.  We should be prepared to call out criticism against Israel when it is in fact antisemitism and how do we know?  Invoking Alan Dershowitz’s “three D’s,” when Israel is demonized, delegitimized, or treated with a double standard, that’s antisemitism.

The other trend that disturbs me is a self-preservationist trend that cares only about Jews and fails to apply appropriate Jewish values of justice and compassion to those who are different from us.  Regarding this trend, I remind us that ancestors could easily have said, after leaving Egypt:  We suffered, we’re basically ok; if you’re suffering, it’s your problem.  And instead they chose the extraordinary ethical move of, we know what it’s like to be a stranger.  And therefore our suffering, past and present, will sensitize us to your suffering.  

And that means that regardless of what we think about immigration, when parents and children are separated at our border, when many still haven’t been reunited, we must protest because that’s un-Jewish and inhumane.  And when people are disqualified from serving in our military because of their gender identity we must protest as well.  And the list goes on.

It is possible to navigate protection of self with protection of the other.  The two are not mutually exclusive; more often than not, they are mutually reinforcing.

It is possible to understand the dangers that Jews face while also embracing the Jewish imperative to do right in the world.

לא ימיש עמוד הענן יומם ועמוד האש לילה lo yamish amud he'anan yomam v'amud ha'esh laylah 

The children of Israel had a pillar of cloud to guide them by day and a pillar of fire to guide them by night.  We don’t have that any more.  We must rely on our collective wisdom to know how to move forward.

Norbert Friedman, who gave me the blessing of “good luck, rabbi, we'll miss you,” when he discovered I was offered the position here in Great Neck, had an internal GPS powered by his wisdom.

He is not alone.  There is so much we can learn from the many people in our community who know how to navigate wisely.

אתה חונן לאדם דעת Ata honen la’adam da’at.  Dear God, things are as complex now as ever.  Please give us the wisdom and resolve necessary to find our way. 

Originally shared with the Temple Israel of Great Neck community on February 9, 2019