Michelle Goldberg, New York Times opinion columnist, summed up the present moment for many of us today when she wrote: “Over the last decade, both the world and the worldview that many liberals took for granted have crumbled.”1
Does that resonate with you?
Despite knowing intellectually that history doesn’t travel in a straight line, I think many of us who grew up socially and economically comfortable in the second half of the 20th century made the same mistake that similarly-comfortable Europeans and Americans made toward the end of the 19th century: We believed that the social and economic progress we were experiencing heralded a new age of unprecedented peace and enlightenment, and things could only continue in the same direction.
It was easy to say, with President Obama and Rev. Dr. King, who were paraphrasing 1850s Unitarian minister Theodore Parker: “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
Then in 2015 and 2016, when racist and homophobic and misogynistic language became a hallmark of one presidential campaign, I heard more than one congregant say, anguished, “I thought we were past this!”
We had believed in exceptionalism: that somehow, we — modern people — were different from earlier people, and therefore our society was going to be different.
But it turns out that humans are still humans. And the beautiful story that we told ourselves about the moral arc of the universe turns out to be incomplete.
Note that I do not say false. But not nuanced enough to sustain us and motivate through this time of challenge.
I cannot guarantee that things are going to be all right in the US in the short term. We’ve got troops deployed in large cities. We’ve got masked men without insignia grabbing people off the streets. Our neighbors who have roots in other countries are being denied due process. Non-binary and trans people, plus anyone who is not white, specifically been targeted as second-class citizens. The delicate governmental machinery that has improved health, monitored our air and water and food supply, provided people who cannot work with at least a small income, and countless other things that have improved quality of life in the past century or so, has had a sledgehammer taken to it. And we have seen a mob storm the US Capitol to prevent Congress from certifying an election.
We’ve got a president hell-bent on consolidating power in a unitary Executive. The framers of our Constitution knew this was a potential flaw, and tried to set up checks and balances to prevent tyranny. But at the moment Congress is dominated by the President’s party and has not challenged the President, even to safeguard its main prerogative, the power of the purse. And courts are slow and have no enforcement capabilities.
So how do “we the people” keep our democracy alive in a time when it is under attack from the top down and from the bottom up? How do we protect our neighbors and ourselves? How do we resist tyranny?
I will add just a word here about Israel. Israel is facing very similar challenges, with a two-decades-long cult of personality and lot of trauma and messianic fervor thrown in for good measure. And still Israelis are challenging the Israeli government to be its best.
It’s obviously neither easy nor simple to do.
But Ani Ma’amin: I believe. I believe that over time, people will simply not put up with what hurts them.
I believe, with former Attorney General Eric Holder, that “the arc bends toward justice, but it only bends toward justice because people pull it towards justice. It doesn’t happen on its own.”2
I believe that we each have a part to play. Our parts are different, because we have different skills. As Rabbi Tarfon taught us in Pirkey Avot (2:16), “It’s not your responsibility to finish the work, but you you’re not free to quit doing it, either.” So you’ll need to find what you’re good at. Our jobs will basically fall under four headings: Defend individuals. Defend institutions. Protest and disrupt when all else fails. Continue to build a better world.
But to do any of this, you need spiritual tools and communal support in order to keep going. You need to stay grounded in deep values that have stood the test of time.
And we already have those values, those spiritual tools. The prophet Micah lived more than 2500 years ago. He said,
הִגִּ֥יד לְךָ֛ אָדָ֖ם מַה־טּ֑וֹב וּמָֽה־יְהֹוָ֞ה דּוֹרֵ֣שׁ מִמְּךָ֗ כִּ֣י אִם־עֲשׂ֤וֹת מִשְׁפָּט֙ וְאַ֣הֲבַת חֶ֔סֶד וְהַצְנֵ֥עַ לֶ֖כֶת עִם־אֱלֹהֶֽיךָ׃ {ס}
“You have already been told, human, what is good, and what the Eternal requires of you: That is to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk modestly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)
The first two of those are Berith Sholom’s superpowers: remember? Tzedek, justice, and chesed, kindness.
(If you missed my Rosh HaShanah sermon, you can read it here.)
At Berith Sholom, music is also a superpower. It helps to build and sustain community. It keeps us dancing and lets us sing out our sorrows and joys.
This community has endured for almost 160 years, and music, kindness, and justice are deep in our DNA.
Micah began with: Asot mishpat. The Doing of Justice. Tzedek is a very old word for justice; I think of it as representing the ideal of justice. Mishpat is what a shofet does, what a human judge is capable of: It represents justice in the world we live in, dispensed by human judges. So we are not required to do the impossible. We are human beings, required to do justice to the best of our ability.
Our ancient rabbis found seven mitzvot in the first chapters of Genesis, up to and including the story of Noah. Of these seven, six are things that you’re supposed to not do, like murder. The only one of these seven mitzvot that is affirmative, something you are required to do, is establish courts of justice.
And, obviously, to abide by their rulings.
As individuals, one of the ways that we do justice in a time like this is by not obeying in advance. I’m quoting the work of Professor Timothy Snyder, formerly of Yale University, recently moved to the University of Toronto, in his little book On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century (2017):
Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do.3
We have already seen this in action. The President makes demands, and law firms and businesses and universities cave, in order not to be singled out for punishment. Are they now collaborating with injustice? Their “anticipatory obedience” tells the President that he can get away with making such demands.
Or we see that people who speak out in certain ways are harshly criticized. Some even lose their jobs, or have shows cancelled. So people self-censor. This tells the critics that their methods work and they should continue “going after” people they think are wrong, stifling discourse and free expression.
Or a state enacts a law banning the use of state funds for gender-affirming care, and healthcare organizations deny access even to people with private health insurance.
When people who do not support the goals or tactics of the administration nevertheless “obey in advance,” it’s often because they justify it as being “for the greater good” or “to save the largest number of people” or so they will “live to fight another day” or something like that. Jews ran the ghettos under the Nazis, in order to look after their people and keep as many safe as they could.
But ultimately: It doesn’t work. Authoritarians will eventually come for many of the people who — quite rationally — tried to safeguard themselves, their businesses, their communities. The Nazis liquidated the Warsaw Ghetto.
Similarly, the Jewish community today needs to be thoughtful about who we align ourselves with. Already last April, the Jewish president of Wesleyan University was cautioning that, quote, “Trump is Selling the Jews a Dangerous Lie.”4 Michael S. Roth wrote:
As the first Jewish president of a formerly Methodist university, I find no comfort in the Trump administration’s embrace of my people, on college campuses or elsewhere. Jew hatred is real, but today’s anti-antisemitism isn’t a legitimate effort to fight it. It’s a cover for a wide range of agendas that have nothing to do with the welfare of Jewish people….
Jews who applaud the administration’s crackdown will soon find that they do so at their peril….
Abductions by government agents; unexplained, indefinite detentions; the targeting of allegedly dangerous ideas; lists of those under government scrutiny; official proclamations full of bluster and bile — Jews have been here before, many times, and it does not end well for us. The rule of law and the right to freedom of thought and expression are essential safeguards for everyone, but especially so for members of groups whose ideas or practices don’t always align with the mainstream.
He went on to reference Jewish history:
In the second and first centuries B.C., the Jewish kingdom of Judea aligned itself with Rome to protect itself from the domination of Greek culture. Rome obliged […] and conquered Judea for itself. The enemy of our enemy was not our friend. There’s a lesson there, if we can heed it.
And as of today, the FBI has formally severed its information-gathering and training relationship with the Anti-Defamation League. The ADL's primary goal is "combating hate and providing anti-bias resources," and “the organization conducts workshops for law enforcement agencies on hate crimes, violent extremism and antisemitism, including a workshop titled ‘Law Enforcement and Society’ that aims to educate officials on the history of the Holocaust and lessons from that period that may be relevant to modern law enforcement agencies.”5 The relationship was initiated by James Comey, whom President Trump is pursuing legally.
Because the ADL monitors hate groups in the US, it poses a threat to … hate groups.
So as Rabban Gamliel said nearly 1800 years ago,
“Be cautious with governments, for they bring a person close to them only for their own needs. They appear as friends when it benefits them, but they do not stand by a person in his time of difficulty.” Rabban Gamliel son of R. Yehudah haNasi, Pirkey Avot 2:3
Some of us enact tzedek and mishpat by maintaining integrity. Legal and medical professionals, academics, and journalists are a few of the many professions that have codes of ethics. So do clergy. Quoting Professor Snyder again, he very bluntly says, “Authoritarians need obedient civil servants, and concentration camp directors seek businessmen interested in cheap labor.”6 Our codes of ethics exist is to guide us precisely when the going gets tough. Because it requires a lot of bravery to stand up against authority. Relying on the norms of our profession can help us not “obey in advance,” not “go along to get along.”
Others enact tzedek and mishpat through protest and activism. In addition to rallies and marches, there are other ways to uphold justice. For instance, Columbia County Sanctuary Movement is a coalition of immigrants and allies which supports, empowers, and defends immigrants and communities. They have a “rapid response network” which goes into action when ICE conducts raids and makes arrests. You could volunteer for that, or report ICE activity to a network, and help protect our neighbors. Remember, at this point we have documented information that folks swept off the streets may be denied due process or even phone calls if they are arrested.
Other people work on learning the law better. For instance, there are trainings for religious communities and businesses about what to do if ICE tries to conduct a raid on your property.
I’m focussing here on immigrants because they, along with transgender and non-binary people, Black, Indigenous, and People of Color, and anyone anywhere in the world who relied on USAID, are the heart of who this administration is targeting. And because an immigrant is a ger — someone who was born elsewhere but has come to live with your group; often translated “stranger” — and
… the commandment to care for the stranger is mentioned more times than any other commandment in the Torah — more even than the command to love God (v'ahavta). According to the Talmud, Rabbi Eliezer the Great noted that "the Torah warns 36 times, and some say 46 times, not to oppress the stranger" (Babylonian Talmud, Bava M'tzia 59b).7
Asot Mishpat — enact justice. Ahavat Chesed — love kindness.
To continue with what you can do to support immigrants: Use that omnipresent phone to film what’s happening when ICE shows up. Carefully — people have been knocked down and arrested for “interfering” while holding up their phones. For my part, I’ve joined a group of clergy who stand in the parking lot of an immigration facility when non-documented folks have gone in for hearings. It’s a way of saying “This community notices. This community cares” to all the people involved.
Another aspect of loving kindness is paying attention to each other, to real people whom you meet in real time and space. I love starting a conversation with someone while I’m waiting in line, or in an elevator, or any time and place where there’s a moment that brings me together with someone I don’t know. They’re not necessarily deep, but they’re important. These conversations say, “I see you. You’re a human being, as I am. We can share a joke, or shake our head in disbelief together, or comment on the human condition, or appreciate the beautiful weather. Our humanness transcends our politics.” These little interactions lift my mood and probably do so to the other person. Sometimes they result in interesting and fun discussions.
James Talarico (taluh-RIco), a Texas state lawmaker, got to the heart of why this matters: “The billionaires who own the social media algorithms, who own the cable news networks, who own the politicians fighting on our screens, they want us at each other’s throats.... [I’m] tired of being told to hate my neighbor.”8
We know from research conducted during the “don’t ask, don’t tell” period of queer American history (about 30 years ago) that the biggest predictor of positive attitudes toward gay men and lesbians was — surprise — knowing one. It stands to reason that knowing your neighbor is an inoculant against hating them. And mutual aid requires just that sort of neighborliness.
Another aspect of Ahavat Chesed is toning down the rhetoric. Talarico, who is a Democrat, spoke at a campaign rally the day Charlie Kirk was shot, and said:
I disagree with Charlie Kirk on almost every political issue, but Charlie Kirk was a child of God. There is something broken in this country. Our politics are broken. Our media are broken. Even our relationships with each other feel broken.9
In acknowledging the humanity of a man he strongly disagreed with, and lamenting his violent death, he was continuing a humanizing tradition of “I do not agree with a word you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”
“Building a better future” is both mishpat and chesed. I think of the work of Soul Fire Farm, whose founding family are members of our congregation. Its website declares that its purpose is to increase justice: “Soul Fire Farm is an Afro-Indigenous centered community farm and training center dedicated to uprooting racism and seeding sovereignty in the food system.” And if you’ve ever been out there — and I encourage you to volunteer at a Community Farm Day, or any other way — you know that the work is about making connections: Reconnecting People of Color with the land. Building supportive networks. Connecting people with each other and with the land, and with joy. (And music!) Those are all aspects of chesed. Human connection both fosters and thrives on chesed.
There was a cartoon that appeared shortly before or after last November’s election. A child asks an adult, “What will be do if Donald Trump wins?” The adult says something like, “We’ll keep working for a better world, we’ll keep resisting, we’ll keep supporting each other.” Then the child asks, “And what will we do if Kamala wins?!” To which the adult replies, “Oh, honey-child, we’ll do the exact same thing…” That’s Soul Fire Farm.
The circumstances in which we are building are very different than they were a year ago, and many people are suffering in consequence — worldwide, not just in the US. But Micah told us a long time ago: You already know what to do. In good times and in bad, “Do justice and love kindness.”
And walk modestly with your God. Or as it’s usually translated, “walk humbly” with your God.
What the heck does that mean???
I think it means: Don’t believe everything you think.
I think it is the gift of “sacred uncertainty.”
Rabbi David Stern writes, on p. 17 of this machzor:
In its emphasis on humility, Kol Nidrei provides a corrective to the toxic certainties of polarized political discourse. What if we approached each other with the humility to recognize that our most confident convictions will always be qualified by the limits of our own knowledge and understanding? In its haunting melody and strangely legalistic language, we begin to sense the twilight truth: our high horses too often stumble, and our soapboxes stand on shaky ground. Kol Nidrei grants us the gift of sacred uncertainty: the chance to begin this new year with a sense of what we do not know, rather than a narrow certainty about what we do. It’s what Buddhists call “beginners mind.” What if every time I were ready to proclaim some self-evident truth, I allowed Kol Nidrei to whisper in my ear, “Says who?”
Stay open to change. Stay open to the possibility that you are wrong. Get comfortable with uncertainty, because it is real — and healthy! When people are positive that they have grasped “the truth,” it is a very short step to justifying any kind of behavior in service to that truth. Sacred Uncertainty inoculates us against false messiahs, demagogues, and mind control.
Another aspect of humility is being certain of/about what’s going to happen in the future. Could we foresee COVID and total lockdowns? Did we foresee October 7? Would any of us who grew up hearing that the earth was headed toward overpopulation (of humans) have imagined that today’s population problem in many countries would be too low of a birthrate? “If you want to make God laugh, tell God what you’re doing tomorrow.”
I believe that the near future is going to be quite a roller coaster ride. AI is going to transform society as fundamentally as social media has. This level and rate of change is profoundly unsettling, which has a lot to do with why dictatorships and cults of charisma are alive and well.
But Micah reminds us that our humble walking is “with our God.” In an unpredictable world, we’re not alone. As this unknown and unexpected future comes barreling toward us, we already have what it takes to navigate our way with integrity: A spiritual community that sustains us, and enduring values that have been vetted by generations. We are custodians of a good teaching: Ki lekach tov natati lachem, Torati, al ta-azovu. (Proverbs 4:2) “For I have given you a good teaching, My Torah: Don’t abandon it.” As tomorrow morning’s Torah portion says, “This mitzvah that I am commanding you — it’s not too baffling for you, nor is it far away.” It’s not in the sky, it’s not across the ocean: No, “it is in your mouth and heart, so that you can do it.” (Deuteronomy 30:11-14) (Remembering, always, that “heart” to our ancient ancestors was more like “mind” to us.)
So as we enter into Yom Kippur, take this day to focus on how you can strengthen your abilities: asot mishpat, doing justice; ahavat chesed, lovingkindness; and hatzne’a lechet im Elohecha, modest walking with your God.
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