April 15th: Freedom from Fear

Last night, the story of Passover was told around thousands of American tables. We talked about the enslavement of the Jews, the plagues that tormented the Egyptians, and the eventual Exodus into freedom.

The central theme of the Passover celebration is the intense focus on freedom. We, as Jews, were slaves, and we remember what it was like to live under the control of another. We also consider the meaning of slavery in a modern setting. While we have realized our freedom to practice our religion freely, there are others who are unable to taste the sweetness and the joy of freedom.

Even the Jewish community’s freedom is not complete. Many of our Passover meals had already begun to cook when a man walked into a Jewish Community Center in the Kansas City area and began what would become a deadly attack. His antisemitism was at the center of his hunt.

The Jewish community, both in Kansas City and across the country, banded together, attempting to console and help those who were immediately impacted by this man’s hatred. At the back of everyone’s mind, there was one emotion: fear.

Jews know the fear of antisemitism. We are raised to hide our Jewish star necklaces at the airport or in public places. We are taught to be suspicious of anyone who too bluntly asks us about our religious beliefs. Even those of us who have never actually had to stand up to hate targeted at our faith, we do know the fear that comes with being a chronically ostracized other.

This man’s violent outburst isn’t the only example of antisemitism that we find in today’s society. Every few weeks, another example makes the headlines, whether it be an act of vandalism or public shaming of Jewish community members.

We would like to believe that these are examples of ignorance by a tiny minority. We would like to think that no real people, none of our neighbors or friends still believe these terrible things about Jews. Yet, there is the fear that, if gone unchecked, your Jewish identity could eventually lead to conflict and, in terrible cases, violence.

Our freedom is, though, incomplete. We can see what it means to be free, we can tell ourselves our freedom is fulfilling and true, but our fear is what keeps us from our true liberation. We have been set free from Egypt, but the slavery to fear is still very much real.

We must not only look out for our own community. There is a limit to what can be done within the context of a homogeneous vacuum. The Jews in each community need to be willing to do education, to stand up against small levels of antisemitism, calling it what it is, and defend our right to exist free of fear.

At the conclusion of most services, we hear the invocation to look around and search out modern versions of slavery. We are meant to find them and do all that we can to help liberate those who still are bent over by bondage, whether it be physical, mental, or emotional. Sadly, it isn’t very difficult to find examples of slavery, especially those who are slaves to fear. There is plenty of work to be done to allow all humanity to feel the sweetness of freedom.

My thoughts and prayers go to all who lost their lives in the shooting at the Kansas City JCC. My thoughts also turn to those living in fear, slaves to the terror inflicted upon them by others. May we find freedom from each of our captors in the coming year, and, when we gather together a year from now, may the world be a place filled with the joy of freedom.

April 6th: Flooding the Box Office

“Noah was in his generations a man righteous and wholehearted.”

This is how the Bible introduces us to Noah, the biblical character who has made his debut on the silver screen.

Dan Aronofsky’s spin on the original zookeeper has exploded at the box office, making $44 million in the first weekend. The film has also received criticism from many in the religious right for its seeming departure from the biblical text, in favor of a more theatrical, dramatic telling.

The beauty of the film, though, is that it in no way changed any component of the text. Another reading of the biblical account backs up the idea that, while many pieces were added, and interpreted, there was nothing that was truly changed or desecrated.

A true telling of the biblical account would lack the drama necessary for a full-length feature film. Aronofsky knew that, so rather than dragging out the pieces that already exists, he worked to add pieces that would add to the moral and ethical principles that are paramount to the story, while maintaining the themes that make the biblical tale as significant as it is.

The central theme of Aronofsky’s version of Noah is the conflict associated with being asked to be the representative of mankind. How does a single individual hold the power, knowing that all other humans will die? How does that person fail to do anything to save the lives of those doomed to drown in the floods of God’s wrath?

The Noah of the movie was forced, in his interpretation of his task, to make some decisions that were fundamentally oppositional to his own ideals, but were what he believed was expected of him. Throughout the film, the embodiment of this challenge is a focal point, and the character is depicted as a flawed and tormented man. His dedication to the task at hand gets in the way of his relationships with members of his family, as well as his ability to find meaning in his own existence.

This is where the Biblical telling holds a subtlety that is so beautiful, and so paramount to our understanding of Noah as the complex individual that Russell Crowe portrays him to be. Noah was, in the first line of his introduction, described as a righteous man “in his generations.” There is an additional context. This surfaces in the telling of Abraham’s story, when Abraham, rather than allowing Sodom and Gomorrah to be annihilated, argues with God, begging for mercy for the two towns. How could Noah be righteous when he also did nothing to save the lives of those around him, as his counterpart several years down the road was able to do?

The greatest struggle with any Biblical story is the attempt for translation into everyday life. How can we, as 21st century people, take these ancient words and apply them to the difficulties we face in our world?

The concept of righteousness is one that we all strive for every day. We look for ways to make a difference in the world, to end the suffering and pain that is all-too close at hand. Yet, we also feel powerless, as if we cannot truly make the world any better. Things feel so screwed up in such fundamental ways, that it can feel too immense, too daunting to ever make a real difference.

This is where our interpretation of Noah has something to teach us. Noah was by no means perfect. He is a good man with a caveat. That caveat, though, doesn’t take away from his goodness. It puts his goodness in a context; Noah did the best he could in the environment which he was assigned. Noah was asked to do a nearly impossible task, and was able to do what he could to accomplish it.

We, too, must strive to be “righteous in our generations.” We will be judged by history not for our ability to make revolutionary changes to our social structure, but by the incremental advancements we can make, and our attempts to do what we can.

One of the most popularly-cited Jewish ethical texts is Pirkei Avot’s comment “It is not upon you to finish the work, nor are you free to desist from it.” The task of making the world better is too immense to fall on the shoulders of any one of us. Yet, it is through our ability to be good people within the context of our abilities that we are able to be the Noah of our generation: the righteous man, who did what he could with what he was given.