TORAH TALK: WEEKLY WISDOM FROM THE PARASHA
Standing Up Against Hate
These remarks were offered August 15 at the San Diego Jewish Community's Stand Up Against Hate gathering, sponsored by ADL, The Leichtag Foundation, and the San Diego Rabbinical Association.
When we came together as a community in February in response to the Administration's Muslim Ban, to remind ourselves as a Jewish community that we were once refugees, I hoped that there would not be another opportunity to do so in the near future.
Yet here we are.
I really wish I could say that the devastating events in Charlottesville this weekend were surprising. Rage that has lived beneath the surface of the American electorate has been identified and validated. Hatred and bigotry from white supremacists has been unmasked—on the the streets, on the airwaves and internet, and yes, into the White House.
White supremacy is predicated on hatred and chauvinism, racism and xenophobia—with no justice and no love. It is a subversion of the truth and tolerance that we know to be the bedrock of democracy.
What happened in Charlottesville should be a clarifying moment for all Americans. We cannot, and must not be tolerant of intolerance. We cannot, and must not be supportive of forces that sow division, spread falsehoods, and encourages hatred. Every decent person of conscience must decide on what side of the moral universe we stand.
Tonight we are here to offer words of condemnation and consolation, to do the work necessary to build a social and political reality that reflects the American ideals of freedom, dignity and justice for all. (Rabbi Sharon Brous, adapted)
Every time there is a terror attack, a mass shooting, and the rhetoric of hate fills the airwaves, we always hope that our suffering will bring about a turning point. Have we not reached that turning point yet?
What are we called to do as a people?
We Jews were not freed from bondage because we were perfect; we did not receive the Torah because we were so virtuous. We were freed from slavery and received instruction at Sinai in order to teach us that in the striving for justice, freedom and love, THAT is where we find courage and strength to dismantle idols of prejudice, cowardice, and violence.
The message is simultaneously ancient and urgent, one that crosses all lines that divide, and lives in the very heart of each and every person. The Torah actually gives us three separate obligations to love. Three separate obligations that seek to address the deeply fractured nature of humanity.
"V'ahavta l'rei'akha kamokha" (Leviticus 19:18)
love your neighbor as yourself;
"Va'ahavtem et ha'ger" (Deuteronomy 10:19)
love the stranger.
"V'ahavta et Adonai Elohekha" (Deuteronomy 6:5)
love Adonai your God.
Self, Neighbor, Stranger, God.
The commandments to love and how to engage with others and God are present in our families and community every day.
These commandments pulsate in the aftermath of the dismissive response to attacks on people of color, Latinos, Muslims, Jews, immigrants, women, transgender people, LGBTQ, and the poor in America.
The commandments are urgent in the empowerment of the white supremacists who took over the streets of Charlottesville with torches, guns, and pipes, chanting anti-Jew hatred, beating people of color, and killing Heather Heyer.
These commandments to love spill over into the urgency about race and prejudice, and the hopes we have for our fellow Americans of color. They are at the very core of the global refugee crisis and the hopes we have for humanity.
The commandments to love the self—one's neighbor—the stranger—and even God, are commanded to be predicated by an absence of hate.
That is on us.
The Torah teaches that we are to love our self—neighbor - stranger - God, but does not command the extent of the love. The genuine character of that love is what we have to stand strong in the face of hate, to demand that a culture of racism leads to a culture of violence, and that it is simply unacceptable, un-American, and not a Jewish value to turn a blind eye to what is in plain sight.
We stand together tonight rejecting the racist screed and violent rhetoric we have heard in the streets, on line, and in the dog whistles we have heard from places we never imagined, that have reawakened sinat hinam--baseless hatred once again in America.
We Jews know the cost of silence. We remember where we come from.
This culture of vile intolerance, whitewashing and hate must be replaced by one of justice and love. That is the greatest teaching in the Torah.
Let love transcend hate.
let justice roll down like water, righteousness like a never ending stream.
If not now, when?
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Yael Ridberg
When we came together as a community in February in response to the Administration's Muslim Ban, to remind ourselves as a Jewish community that we were once refugees, I hoped that there would not be another opportunity to do so in the near future.
Yet here we are.
I really wish I could say that the devastating events in Charlottesville this weekend were surprising. Rage that has lived beneath the surface of the American electorate has been identified and validated. Hatred and bigotry from white supremacists has been unmasked—on the the streets, on the airwaves and internet, and yes, into the White House.
White supremacy is predicated on hatred and chauvinism, racism and xenophobia—with no justice and no love. It is a subversion of the truth and tolerance that we know to be the bedrock of democracy.
What happened in Charlottesville should be a clarifying moment for all Americans. We cannot, and must not be tolerant of intolerance. We cannot, and must not be supportive of forces that sow division, spread falsehoods, and encourages hatred. Every decent person of conscience must decide on what side of the moral universe we stand.
Tonight we are here to offer words of condemnation and consolation, to do the work necessary to build a social and political reality that reflects the American ideals of freedom, dignity and justice for all. (Rabbi Sharon Brous, adapted)
Every time there is a terror attack, a mass shooting, and the rhetoric of hate fills the airwaves, we always hope that our suffering will bring about a turning point. Have we not reached that turning point yet?
What are we called to do as a people?
We Jews were not freed from bondage because we were perfect; we did not receive the Torah because we were so virtuous. We were freed from slavery and received instruction at Sinai in order to teach us that in the striving for justice, freedom and love, THAT is where we find courage and strength to dismantle idols of prejudice, cowardice, and violence.
The message is simultaneously ancient and urgent, one that crosses all lines that divide, and lives in the very heart of each and every person. The Torah actually gives us three separate obligations to love. Three separate obligations that seek to address the deeply fractured nature of humanity.
"V'ahavta l'rei'akha kamokha" (Leviticus 19:18)
love your neighbor as yourself;
"Va'ahavtem et ha'ger" (Deuteronomy 10:19)
love the stranger.
"V'ahavta et Adonai Elohekha" (Deuteronomy 6:5)
love Adonai your God.
Self, Neighbor, Stranger, God.
The commandments to love and how to engage with others and God are present in our families and community every day.
These commandments pulsate in the aftermath of the dismissive response to attacks on people of color, Latinos, Muslims, Jews, immigrants, women, transgender people, LGBTQ, and the poor in America.
The commandments are urgent in the empowerment of the white supremacists who took over the streets of Charlottesville with torches, guns, and pipes, chanting anti-Jew hatred, beating people of color, and killing Heather Heyer.
These commandments to love spill over into the urgency about race and prejudice, and the hopes we have for our fellow Americans of color. They are at the very core of the global refugee crisis and the hopes we have for humanity.
The commandments to love the self—one's neighbor—the stranger—and even God, are commanded to be predicated by an absence of hate.
That is on us.
The Torah teaches that we are to love our self—neighbor - stranger - God, but does not command the extent of the love. The genuine character of that love is what we have to stand strong in the face of hate, to demand that a culture of racism leads to a culture of violence, and that it is simply unacceptable, un-American, and not a Jewish value to turn a blind eye to what is in plain sight.
We stand together tonight rejecting the racist screed and violent rhetoric we have heard in the streets, on line, and in the dog whistles we have heard from places we never imagined, that have reawakened sinat hinam--baseless hatred once again in America.
We Jews know the cost of silence. We remember where we come from.
This culture of vile intolerance, whitewashing and hate must be replaced by one of justice and love. That is the greatest teaching in the Torah.
Let love transcend hate.
let justice roll down like water, righteousness like a never ending stream.
If not now, when?
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Yael Ridberg
