Erev Yom Kippur - Privilege
Judaism is at its core an ethical
religion. It deals from the very
beginning in the book of Genesis, with the first crime committed – the
murdering of Abel by his brother Cain.
God asks Cain after the crime, “Where is your brother?” Cain answers,
mockingly, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
It was not that God did not know
where Abel was, nor was God was unaware of what happened. God was holding up a mirror to Cain
reflecting back to him what his actions were.
God wanted Cain to understand a deep truth - we are each other’s
keeper. We are responsible for one
another.
In
today’s society it is a lesson we struggle with.
When I say terms ageism, sexism,
anti-Semitism, racism, homophobia, classism or able-bodied-ism I am sure we can
all think of an image of someone who is discriminated against in some form or
fashion. Perhaps we think about white supremacists
waving a confederate flag, while burning a cross on the lawn of someone who
they disagree with. We often think of it as an isolated incidents. But what I want to talk about today is not
that type of oppression.
As a Jewish
young adult, I remember going to Girl Scout camp and my bunkmates learning that
I was Jewish. One asked me where my
horns were. She looked at my head closely
that evening as I brushed my hair and I told her, “I had no horns!” I came home
and asked my mom what she meant by that question, my mother said it was a silly
thing that ignorant people thought that Jews had horns.
Most of us rarely encounter
anti-Semitism, yet it is something that we are all aware of. Last year at this time a drunken man left a
message on my voicemail on erev Rosh Hashanah describing destruction that we
would face. He was hallucinating and
meant it as a warning coming from love.
Yet as a result of that call, the FBI was called as was the police who
investigated to determine who it was and if it was a credible threat. Though we were given the all clear just a few
minutes before services were to start, several people did not attend services
that night because of fear for their safety.
We also heard about the shooting at a synagogue in Nashville TN last spring
and are aware that while we might not experience it, anti-Semitism is
there. It is a virus lingering just
below the surface.
Yet for most of us, we live lives
of quiet contentment. We do not think
about the appearance of a violent act as anything but a singular event. Words like racism, homophobia and classism conjure
images in our minds of loss of freedom, verbal and physical violence even
death. They appear to be someone else’s
problem. The problem of blacks, gays and
poor people.
But I believe that it is
something even more sinister than that.
It is effective because it is linked with a powerful arm –
privilege. We say the word and this
brings to mind people who are blessed to be able to afford luxury. Or, for some of us, it brings to mind reverse
discrimination and we feel defensive.
Why anti-Semitism works is that
it brings to mind the assumption that the world is and must be like the
dominant culture. Here in the South, our
dominate culture is Christian, specifically evangelical. That dominate-culture leads toward blindness
for the “other.” When there is a public
dedication at Veterans Day or Memorial Day we often hear a person speaking
says: “In Jesus’s name we pray.” When they say this, they have excluded not
only Jews, but Muslim, Hindus, Native American’s and so forth. I am sure that it was not the speakers
intention to exclude, often times they were not even aware that other people
might be in the audience.
Racism works similarly because it
says the norm and display of power is that of white, while black, Asian, Arab,
Native American or Pacific Islander is other.
There is a systemic display of the institution of white, middle or upper
class, male, young, heterosexual and able-bodied as “the Norm.” It is an invisible system around us which we
may not even be aware of.
Let me offer you an example of
the system and institution. Peggy
McIntosh in her groundbreaking essay “White Privilege and Male Privilege” first
published in 1988 came up with a list of 46 ways in which “the Norm” is
institutionalized. I will only share
with you a brief smattering. I want to
share this because we have a difficult time thinking about the institutions
which are around us, which we help support and support us exclude someone else.
1. I can, if I wish, arrange to be in the company of people of my
race most of the time. Just look at who your friends are on Facebook
2. I can avoid spending time with people whom I was trained to
mistrust and who have learned to mistrust my kind or me. Even if you meet people, who do you really
invite over to your house?
3. If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or
purchasing housing in an area which I can afford and in which I would want to
live. Look at your neighborhood,
where do most of you live?
4. I can go shopping alone most of the time, fairly well assured
that I will not be followed or harassed by store detectives. Have any of you ever been accused of shop
lifting?
5. I can turn on the TV or open the front page of the paper and see
people of my race widely and positively represented. Please just look at a copy of any magazine
and see who is in there
6. When I am told about our national heritage, I am told that
people of my color helped make it.
7. The curriculum my children will be given will testify to the
existence of their race and won’t be relegated to a subsection.
Again this is an example. But the
same thing could be said about ageism.
We value young, able-bodied people who can carry items. As a society we look at people who are older
as “dated” and unaware of gifts which they have. That is why movies like the Expendables 1, 2
or 3 is so popular. It shows old men as
still able and that they still know some tricks – it breaks one of the norms
our society has.
As a result, it is easy to make
the assumption that anyone who is different than the “norm” either does “not
exist or must be trying, not very successfully, to be like people of my own
race.”
Therefore the term privilege that
we think of and deny exists because it makes us uncomfortable is that we think
of privilege as a favored state – whether earned or conferred by luck or
birth. A better term is dominance. There is dominance in our society; it is that
of the White Anglo Saxon Protestant culture. Just think of the term “Protestant
Work Ethic” coined by economist Max Webber to describe a connection in the
relationship between the spiritual life and its subtleties in connection with
the material life. That the evolution
from the middle ages to our modern economy took place in Protestant areas of
the world were somehow seen to dominate other areas of the globe and that the
acquisition of wealth was almost a religious duty - that wasting time and money
is a sin.
We live in a bubble denying that
other people struggle. Often we are
oblivious to the plight of people other than ourselves. We tell ourselves: “I am simply trying to
live my life. I am trying to earn money
to afford a home. I worked hard for what
I have.”
I would love for us to open that
bubble up and be more inclusive of others.
Yet that is hard to do, it takes work and effort. It can be scary. It is especially hard when we are fearful of
our safety or jealous of what someone else has.
When that happens the true head of Racism, anti-Semitism and Hatred
appear. Recently a Muslim student built
a clock and it was thought to have been a bomb by his teacher. In this case we see a
fear that we have about Muslims and a connection with violence. This fear has been present within us since
September 11th.
But fear blinds us, the bubble numbs us and think only of our own struggle
clouds our minds to the institutions around us.
We fail to remember a beautiful
picture from the book of Genesis - the story is the tower of Babel where
everyone was able to come together to build a tower that reached the angels in
heaven. When God saw what the people
were capable of, he gave everyone different languages and scattered them. No longer could we work easily together. But instead we were going to have to work
hard to do something that was once so easy.
We were going to have to struggle to communicate even the most basic
ideas. It became easier to be with
people who looked like us, thought like us and talked like us.
It is a hard thing to talk to
someone so different than you. You must
be wholly secure with your own identity and open enough to see the other
person. Just ask any married couple how
easy communication is. Now imagine you
want to communicate about an idea with someone who is from a different culture
than you and how when you say the color red you might think of crimson while someone else will think of maroon. Even within a community, communication can be challenging.
When we think about Moses, we
think about someone who was strong, he was after all a leader, a prophet,
someone who set the pace and the tone for the entire community. Yet, if you remember well he had a lisp and
Aaron, his brother, had to speak for him.
When he was first leading the people, he was exhausted and never slept
because he had to deal with various issues – all the time. His father-in-law, Jethro, a Medianite priest,
taught him how to approach leadership differently. He directed him to delegate so that Moses
only had to make decisions for the most challenging cases.
Moses, while dominate, was not
totally able bodied nor was he totally knowledgeable in all things. We are all like Moses in some way. I am white, and some doors open for me that
would not for someone else easily. Yet,
I am Jewish, from the North and am dyslexic.
So other doors will always be a challenge for me. There is no hierarchy in oppression, in some
ways if we were to think about it, all of us have things about us which is
different from the “Norm” all of us have some doors which open more easily for
us and other doors which will always be a challenge.
There is a strange and magical
legend found among many stories about the creation of the world. The legend tells the story that this world
was not the first world that God created, he created others, was discontented
with them and destroyed them. This view
of the world describes God as the great Experimenter. Therefore when God finally created the world
he was able to say with justification, “Behold, it is good!”
This summer the Central
Conference of American Rabbis embarked on an effort – to find 40 rabbis willing
to walk for one day from Selma Al to Washington DC with the NAACP carrying a
Torah weighing 18 pounds in an attempt to bring to light issues of racism in
this country. They were hoping for 40
rabbis that each rabbi would carry the Torah for one day and that this would
take place in the month of August and into early September (just before the
High Holidays) when most rabbis would be away on vacation or busy preparing for
this important time of year. Surprisingly they had nearly 200 volunteer. On Facebook, I saw pictures of my friends and
colleagues wearing their yellow shirts, walking on the side of the highway
protected by the police who sixty years ago would have harassed them. Many shared their experiences on a blog and
described the feeling of walking as a part of history.
Of his experience, my friend
Rabbi David Levy wrote: “America’s journey is not a look back to where we have
been, but a journey forward into a better future for our country. Each step taken is a cry for criminal justice
reform, each mile walked is a call for education reform, every sore limb aches
for an end to the plague of economic inequality and every day closer to
Washington is a day dedicated to restoring voter rights that continue to be
denied to many.”
That is what the journey
represents – a vision of hope for a better tomorrow. But before we can achieve a better tomorrow,
I am struck by a warning from the head of the modern Mussar movement spoken
over a hundred years ago:
“When I was young, I wanted to
change the world. I tried, but the world
did not change. Then I tried to change
my town, but the town did not change.
Then I tried to change my family but my family did not change. Then I knew: I must change myself.” Rabbi
Israel Salanter
The idea that we can change the
invisible system around us is overwhelming. Simply to become aware of it is the
first step. The question is now armed
with a different understanding of dominance, what will we do?
The answer is found in our sacred
text.
To rebuild our world…we must
rebuild ourselves. When Moses said that
we had a decision to make between life and death, and that literally the
commandments were in our hands should we decide to engage with them. But failing to engage with them and with the
world around us prevents us from being a co-creator with God in completing the
work of creation.
The amazing thing about
significant leaders of our people such as Noah, Abraham and King Hezekiah was
that they were described in simple human terms as “walking with God.” Imagine
yourself walking please. When you walk,
you walk so naturally, you don’t even think about it. You go step by step forward, trusting that
you won’t fall. When we say in the Viahvta: “Set these words, which I
command you this day, upon your heart.
Teach them faithfully to you children.
Speak of them in your home and on your way,” what we are saying is that
we need to walk in the way of God. If we
repent today, the Day of Atonement, but fail to engage the remainder of the
time, than we have failed to truly return to God.
Our prophet Micah teaches
simply: “It has been told to you, O
mortal, what is good, and what the Eternal requires of you – Only this: to do
justly, and love mercy and walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8)
It sounds simple. But it is a hard thing to do.
There is no explanation in the
midrash given as to why God chose this world as the one which will endure. Just when we feel as if there is so much pain
in the world; so much heartbreak we must remember that at one moment it
satisfied God. Every day of creation is
a blessing which God said was good. God
placed us here to be a co-creator not necessarily because the world is good,
but because we have the privilege and the opportunity to make it a better
place. Sometimes when we face the chaos
of the world, the pain it can feel overwhelming. Yet the feeling of futility and frustration
can be used to guide us on our way toward a process of acknowledgement and
confession.
“The way we rebuild the word is
to rebuild ourselves. We will live by
the words of Moses: Not in heaven, not overseas, but in our hearts and on our
lips, shall live and grow the creative word of the Living God.” (Rabbi Freehof)
The lesson of Yom Kippur this
year for me is that I am my brother’s keeper.
I am imperfect and so is he, but I will love him as I love myself and we
will walk on the path of God together as a co-creator working to perfect the
world with each step we take.
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