Reading for Treasure: Israel and Gaza

There is so much news coverage about the current conflict in the Middle East. Over and over, I find that my heart is broken. I read an article, see video, and then I cannot take it anymore. I realize that only my distance gives me that privilege, so I face again the horror both in Israel and Gaza and the reverberations around the world. 

It is not a straightforward situation. I chaff against the use of words like “simple” or modified by “just,” or preceded by, “all that needs to…” as if this is a knot that any casual observer could easily untangle. I wish it were so. Who am I to tell people half a world away how to solve problems that are centuries old? 

One way I have found to deal with this situation with integrity is with a “both/and” approach: The Israelis suffered a horrible pogrom and their response to it is causing another horror. The Palestinians have been treated dreadfully and Hamas is not moving them in a good direction. The hostages must be freed and all of Gaza is hostage to Hamas. Some of the criticism against Israel is valid and some is antisemitic. 

I do not see this situation objectively. As an American Jew, I empathize with my Israeli family. Yet, as a Jew, I identify with the downtrodden and see Gaza as another ghetto. Both/And. 

So here are some articles from The Atlantic, a publication I have come to both trust and admire. I am not advertising their publication, rather it has become a mainstay of my reading and understanding of a variety of issues. These articles represent several perspectives and were written through this awful time of war. 

My wish for this season, as we head to Thanksgiving, is for peace for all of us, a return of those held hostage, and an opportunity for voices like the writers below to be heard. Please give them a read. 

“My Message of Peace”

“Even the Oppressed Have Obligations”

“Hamas Must Go”

“The Children of Gaza”

“When Anti-Zionism Is Anti-Semitic”

“America’s Most Dangerous Anti-Jewish Propagandist”

I am currently reading Children of Time by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Reading For Treasure: My Articles!

Reading for Treasure is my list of articles that are worth your attention. Click here for an introduction!

In the past few weeks, I have had an essay published and been featured in an article in two Jewish publications. So, this month, here are these two articles, both dealing with religion. 

When Humanistic Judaism Magazine decided to focus its winter issue on Judaism and science fiction, several people reached out and asked me if I’d like to contribute. It is true that my first experiences with science fiction were at my congregation’s religious school on Sundays. My love of science fiction and my philosophy as a Secular Humanistic Jew are two of the most important elements of my identity. So of course, I wrote a piece similar to my blog posts. This link is to the preview version of the magazine. My essay, “Sunday School Made Me a Science Fiction Fan,” is on page 12. 

Tablet Magazine is a Jewish publication that covers a wide range of topics from news and religion to culture, history, and sports. They have been exploring the diversity of the Jewish community through a series of discussions called “The Minyan,” which they describe as, “Roundtables on the state of the American Jewish community, bringing together people from a shared demographic or background—everyday people with personal opinions, not experts who earn their salaries discussing these issues.” A reporter reached out to me to participate in an online gathering of Jews who did not believe in God in the traditional sense of the concept. The reporter gathered a group virtually and we had a fascinating and thoughtful conversation that was published in this article. In addition to the article, a podcast version of this conversation will be released sometime soon.

Currently, I am reading Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution by R.F. Kuang

Twenty One‘derful Years of Sunday School

I am retiring – again. I have been teaching Confirmation Class on Sunday mornings for twenty-one years. When we started the congregation in 2001, we wanted to be a full-service congregation; that meant a religious school, so I volunteered to teach Confirmation Class. 

We began with the curriculum from our prior congregation. It focused on comparative Judaism and comparative religion. I started with the continuum of Judaism. I took kids to Shabbat services at reform, conservative, reconstructing, and orthodox synagogues –and asked them to come to one of our Friday night services. Of course, high school students (and their parents) have many other things happening on Friday nights or Saturday mornings. And many students had been going to their friends’ mitzvahs at the very same congregations we were visiting. We had some very interesting conversations. 

I told students to dress nicely for these visits as they would for a B Mitzvah. When we visited a conservative synagogue for a Friday night service, one of my students arrived in a very short skirt and a bare midriff. I took off my coat as I saw her come into the sanctuary and said to her, “Put this on, you must be freezing!” I learned to be much more clear about my dress expectations. 

We also studied world religions and visited a Catholic Church and a nearby mosque. Through these seven field trips, the connections between all the religions were increasingly clear to the kids and me – and we were exhausted. It was too many field trips! 

In the third year, I decided to do a little of each: we studied some comparative Judaism and some comparative religion. I organized the years around the structures of the religions – and scheduled all field trips on Sunday mornings! One year, we went to an Orthodox Jewish shul, the Catholic church nearby, an Evangelical megachurch, the local mosque, and a Hindu mandir. The other year, we went to the Unitarian church, a United Church of Christ church, the Buddhist temple, the Bahai House of Worship, and a “classical reform” Jewish congregation that still had Sunday morning services. Five field trips a year was much more reasonable. 

And now, ninety-one kids, eighty-four field trips, and 470 class sessions later, I am handing Confirmation Class over to another teacher. Although I still love learning with students, the structure of Sunday mornings has become too restrictive. Both of my adult(ish) children live and work out of town. If I visit them, our time together must be on weekends. It is too hard to find ways to travel to see my kids and be back on Sunday mornings – and I feel way too guilty missing class. 

It has been a fantastic twenty-one years. I have learned with outstanding students. I have worked with fantastic colleagues and parents. I have talked with remarkable clergy. It has been joyous! 

In the beginning, my own children came to Sunday school with me. They would help set up my classroom and then run off to their own. We rejoined each other for the last half-hour, when the entire school gathered to sing. My parents would come to these music sessions, as would the parents (and often grandparents) of many of the students. It was a gathering of the congregation and a highlight of my week. 

I knew almost all of the families well. Once, as class came to an end, I joked with a student, telling him, “I’m going to tell your parents about this.” He looked at me and replied, “I’m going to tell your parents!” What a beautiful thing that he could! 

Every time we would study a religion or visit a different house of worship, I would learn with the kids. The first time we drove up to the huge megachurch, one of my students leaned over and said, “Oh, Mr. Hirsch, you’ve made a mistake. This is a mall!” Nope. It was a church – and it was bigger than a mall. 

I loved the moment that we drove through the gate at the BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir in Bartlet. I showed the kids photos. We had read about Hinduism. But nothing could adequately prepare them for the first sight of that magnificent structure. The collective gasp as we arrived more than made up for the long journey to get there. 

There have been challenging and memorable moments, too: the student who asked our host at the megachurch, “So, are we all going to hell?” The time a guide compared homosexuality to heroin addiction and my students were so flabbergasted that they literally began to move toward her. The pastor who was so approachable that one of my students whispered to me, “These are the coolest Christians I have ever met.” The charming and affable host at the mosque who just didn’t sit down, so we had our half-hour discussion standing (and swaying) on our feet. The host who thought, since he had grown up Jewish, that he was knowledgeable about our religion and made assumptions that were increasingly uncomfortable. The wonderful shofar-making activity at the orthodox shul – and the stuffed goat, and bumping into friends and neighbors at the Catholic church. 

One big issue we discussed a great deal is god. It is a very popular and important topic. We explore different ideas about god and different ways to conceptualize theism. I even show the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode, “Who Watches The Watchers” to help us articulate questions and answers about the concept of an anthropomorphic god. 

We didn’t study religion purely academically. The point was to think critically about our own beliefs. We learned about how others answered important religious questions so that we could explore them ourselves. We wrestled with moral dilemmas, talked about what it meant to proselytize, and discussed the line between belief and behavior. The test of belief is how it shows up in our daily lives. How do we walk our talk? How do our beliefs shape our identities and decisions? 

At the conclusion of the two-year class, students get a chance to talk about what they believe. At our confirmation service, they focus on one part of their journey they want to share. Some students talk about god. Some talk about different views of Judaism. Other students focus on some of the questions we asked on our field trips, ethical issues, or their own stories. One young woman started out by telling us that, to her, her mother was god. A young man described his ethical code simply by saying he did his best to “not be an asshole.” Another explored the difference between confirming and conforming. Students sometimes challenged or questioned things they had learned. They wrestled with the concept of what makes something a religion. They described how they navigated conversations about religion with their friends. Year after year, their reflections made me think about my own philosophy and how I could better guide the next group of students. 

It has been a privilege to learn at Kol Hadash’s Sunday School. It has been an honor to study with these students, teachers, and parents. I often said that I am the lucky teacher at the end of the line. I benefited from all the magnificent learning that happened in the classes before Confirmation. From our youngest students learning songs and holidays to studying lifecycle events, heroes, Israel, and wrestling with the Holocaust, students are well prepared for Confirmation Class. I can’t take credit for their brilliance. They have been primed by their families and their earlier classes. I am very proud of them when they stand before the congregation and share their wisdom. 

I am grateful to students with whom I have learned – and their families. Their commitment to Jewish learning is inspiring. I am grateful for the incredible teachers and education directors with whom I have worked – and our outstanding rabbi. For the last three years, I have co-taught Confirmation Class with a teacher who is one of the most able, empathetic, and perceptive educators I have ever met. She will take over Confirmation Class next year. It will be a big upgrade. 

I am only retiring from teaching. I am still very involved in our congregation. I chair our fundraising committee, sing in the choir, and do a variety of other tasks. And if someone needs some help on Sunday morning, I am happy to assist. I live next door, after all.  

When I was a young child, my parents never expected to find a congregation at which they would feel comfortable. When they found Humanistic Judaism, it matched their philosophy and the way they lived their lives. There are so many families like us out there. It gives me such nachas that our congregation and school continues to be a warm and welcoming place for anyone who wants to confirm that Judaism can be celebrated culturally, secularly, non-theistically, and joyfully! 

Reading For Treasure: I Miss The Good Place

Reading for Treasure is my list of articles that are worth your attention. Click here for an introduction!

It’s been a year without The Good Place and I miss it. The finale rightfully won the Hugo award in December and that made me miss it even more. The tone and ideas of this show are a balm for the daily news.  If you haven’t tried it, I hope these articles will persuade you to watch it!  Yes, there are spoilers below, but this show can handle that. Here are some articles, all from a year ago, extolling, examining, and explaining this magnificent series.

The Atlantic wrote many articles about The Good Place. Here are three of the best: 

“The Good Place Was a Metaphor All Along” which discusses the way this show reflected back upon itself and commented on television and even attempted to better its audience. 

The second article, “The Most Optimistic Show on TV is Over” talks about how “The Good Place has spent four seasons asking weighty questions about the vexing condition of being alive: Can human beings become better? If so, how, and what does that even mean?” 

The third article, although titled, “The Good Place Felt Bad in the End”, really delves into the meaning behind the end of the series and wrestles with some wonderful and meaty questions. 

“How the Good Place Redefines Soul Mates” from Syfy Wire is a great description of the power of this series. It spells out some of the wonderful aspects that make this show far more than a simple sitcom. Warning: this article has some serious spoils, so don’t read it until you’ve finished the series.  

“The Good Place Became the Last Great Sitcom on Network TV By Daring its Audience to Be Better” in Time Magazine is a wonderful testimonial to the power of this program. 

Finally, Tor.com had a wonderful recap and tribute to the series, “What We Owe to Each Other Is to Talk About The Good Place’s Finale” which quickly summarizes some of the shows best moments and accomplishments. 

I am currently reading A History of What Comes Next By Sylvian Neuvel 

What I Really Want to Say on our Holiday Card

I have never written a Christmas letter. This is not a Christmas letter, either. Read on and we’ll all figure out exactly what it is. Each year, finding photos for our family holiday card is not difficult, but writing the text is excruciating. The problem is more than a lack of real estate. It is trying to strike a balance between a positive holiday tone, acknowledging the big things going on in the world, acknowledging the things going on in our family, and trying to say something worth saying. Oh yeah, I also have three really discerning editors in my family. 

I want our holiday card to celebrate the friendships and connections with the many people for whom it is created. If I were to personalize each card, it would take me months to complete and I fear it would feel boilerplate anyway. I want to say to so many people, “I see you! I celebrate you! This card was created with you in mind – specifically!” 

Yet, I don’t want our holiday card to simply ignore what is happening in the world. It seems perversely ironic to send out smiling photos when children are losing their caregivers to COVID, the planet is unraveling, and people are being shot in wheelchairs and schools. But a woes-of-the-world card is not the idea, either. The balance is tricky. 

Could our holiday card be a kind of friendship card, a “we’re thinking of you and you bring us joy” card, a “your friendship is important” card? The values that the holidays represent work, just not all of them. When we get cards that seem steeped in religiosity, no matter what the religion, I always feel like the card isn’t really meant for us – or the sender doesn’t know us very well. 

We send our holiday card to a lot of people. We have been sending our holiday card via email since 2010. When we sent cards in the mail, I had to think about how many to print, get stamps, and take time to assembly everything. Things still take time, but it doesn’t cost more to send to more people. This is good; it allows us to be highly inclusive. However, it also means that our card has a larger audience – and how do you communicate well with a diverse group using such a small space? 

The photos are the important part of the card. That is why I take so many all year long: to get a few good ones! But I don’t want to be a show-off. My card is about communicating not posturing. 

I worry about those who don’t get my card. I post the card to Facebook so I can be as inclusive as possible. If we receive cards from people who were not on our list, we send them a card right away. That doesn’t happen much anymore. I know we are still missing people. Sorry about that. 

I don’t save all the cards I receive. I do save some of them, especially those that are particularly clever, powerful, or hit me in the feelies. These cards mark time, growth, and change. I may not write the Christmas letter, but I make sure that the landmarks are noted in the photos: driver's licenses, graduations, retirements, and important moments. 

Sometimes, I write a poem or short pithy statements on the card. They are never good enough. I would be a terrible greeting card writer. This year, I kept the main message to four words: Love, health, community, and family. That seemed to encapsulate 2021. 

May the year ahead be everything you hope. May you take lots of pictures that you want to save forever and share with the world. May this terrible disease pass over your family and community. And may you know that we are thinking of you, wishing you well, and sending you all our love. Think all that will fit on the card? 

Five Weddings and I Have Questions

In the past five weeks, my wife and I attended five weddings. The weddings were outdoor and indoor, big and little, religious and secular. We know the families well and we were outsiders. We traveled and stayed close to home. It has been rejuvenating and wonderful to share the joy of these couples and their families. Yet, as I reflect on these weddings, I have questions. 

Planning a wedding is rehearsal for marriage. The dynamics that will become the backdrop of married life are developing for most of these couples. The event itself is a reflection of the couple and, sometimes, their parents. Some weddings are big parties, others are an affirmation of tradition, and some feel like skating on silk. 

It has been more than thirty years since my wife, our families, and I planned our wedding. It is clear there is a continuum of involvement in wedding planning for the grooms. Some sit to the side and do as they are told. I am a theatre director and English teacher. I like control. I was actively part of putting together our wedding. Most of the grooms seemed involved in the wedding, although one joked about the triviality of his participation.  

Gender roles were very much on display at these weddings – and there are things that baffle me. Of course, I want to walk my child down the aisle. I can’t imagine NOT doing that. However, in several of the weddings we saw, only dad walked the bride down the aisle. Often the groom walked down by himself. Both parents walking their child down the aisle was the exception, which surprised me. One of the side effects of this is that certain parts of each family are more visible and others slip into the background.

What surprised me more was the line at the end of the ceremony: “Let me introduce for the first time, Mr. and Mrs.” Many of these weddings finished that with “Groom’s first and last name.” So the bride was just Mrs. That felt strange to me. Twice, it was “Mr. and Mrs. Groom’s last name.” I guess that is a little more egalitarian, but not much. Twice, it was Mr. and Mrs. Bride and Groom and Groom’s last name,” so at least the bride got her first name in there. One time, the bride and groom were introduced separately, although the bride was introduced with the groom’s last name. I did not take it as a given that my wife would take my last name. We discussed it. I know so many people who do not change their names when they get married, so maybe this was not a representative sample. 

I have only officiated at one wedding. While I hope I did an okay job, I am sure that our rabbi would have done it better. Weddings feel far too important to leave to amateurs. Two of the weddings had a friend officiate. They were fine. One had someone I assume they hired. He did better with the ceremony, but it was clear that he didn’t really know the couple. This is one of myriad reasons to be part of a community. The ceremonies that I thought worked the best were led by officiants who knew the couple and were experts on how to make a wedding work well. 

Most of the couples wrote their own vows or wrote letters to each other. In most cases, they read these, although once, the officiant read them. These were universally beautiful and the best part of the ceremonies. When this part was absent, the ceremony felt far less personal. The readings in the weddings were, for the most part, traditional, tried, and true. They felt routine. The music was highly varied and included both religious and pop as well as tunes that I had never encountered. In a few ceremonies, the music felt more meaningful than the readings. 

Several of the weddings were grounded in religion while others appeared to go to great lengths to minimize religious references. I wonder how the couples who come from different backgrounds will deal with religion. Will they avoid it, as they did in their wedding? I worry when the way we deal with differences is to push them to the side. Why not celebrate our different cultures? 

I have questions about the receptions. I am not fussy about the food (but I love it when someone cares enough to worry about us vegetarians) and I don’t drink much beyond the toasts. My wife and I like to dance a little. What is important to me is being able to connect with the people who invited me. I really appreciated it when the bride and groom and their families made it a point to greet their guests. I loved being able to meet family members I did not know – often very important people in this celebration! When some of these key people were inaccessible, I wondered if everything was okay. 

The toasts were very good. None of the weddings had those stereotypical horrible wedding embarrassments. The best toasts were obviously written in advance. The impromptu toasts, while clearly heartfelt, had less impact. However, a few times these toasts were written out and still ended up an unfocused ramble. I was curious about who did and did not speak. The bride’s father always spoke, but not always the bride’s mother. The groom’s parents sometimes spoke, but often, the mother less so. The best man and maid or matron of honor spoke in all but one, yet the other members of the wedding party, especially the siblings of the couple, didn’t always speak. When some of these important people did not toast the couple, I had questions. 

At the first and last of our five weddings, no one clinked glasses asking for the couple to kiss. I didn’t know how they managed that. It was brilliant. When I heard the clinking at the other weddings, it made me question the practice. Not only did I not miss it, but it gave the bride and groom the opportunity to move around more freely. 

I could list question upon question about the choices of song for the mother-son and father-daughter dances. There seems to be one that is clearly the standard choice for Christian families for the father-daughter dance. I did wonder about the father of the groom and the mother of the bride. Why not include them? Why not invite the families up to dance with each other after the traditional gendered dancing. 

Two of the weddings threw the bouquet and garter. Like the glass clinking, I didn’t miss these when they were absent and found it a bit jarring. One of these weddings seemed to take it seriously and the other played with them in a funny and sexy way. It was nice to have an activity that called people to the dance floor, but I wondered about the unspoken message about the importance of marriage. Okay, we were at a celebration of marriage. 

None of our five weddings was for a same sex couple. None of them was a second marriage. I wonder how these parts of the celebration would be seen in other forms of unions. 

Because symbols are so important to me, and I worked in a world where implied meanings reins, I was highly conscious of the combination of all the elements during my wife and my wedding. Not everyone appears to do this. As a theatre director, I think about my audience. But a wedding is not a play. It is for the couple and their families. The audience is as much witness as participant. For some, the real focus is on the couple, their experience, and how the wedding elements help them both celebrate and prepare for their life together. Still, I have questions. 

Passover is not Passive

The Passover story is powerful. It is about freedom from slavery, plagues, and persecution. It asks us to do more than retell the story but to imagine that we lived it. It is a story of people who took action and transformed their world. Our world is in need of such people and transformation. 

If we are to keep Passover, we must go beyond our diet. I have written about this before. 

At a time when our world, our country, our families are facing so many challenges, keeping Passover means putting its lessons to use. Perhaps, at our seders, we can ask each other, what can we do to help those who are bound become free?  How can we help cure the world of the many plagues that ail it?  How can we help strangers who have left their homes, since we were once strangers? 

A simple way for those of us still sheltering in our homes is to donate to organizations that do this good work. Here are a few Passover causes that need your keeping: 

Support groups working to rid the world of human trafficking, like A21.

Help those who are struggling to feed their families during this time by donating to Feed America. 

Work against the plague of racism and hate by giving to groups like the Southern Poverty Law Center and the Anti-Defamation League. 

There are many suffering from COVID and other illnesses. While there are many charities that provide care, fund research or assist patients, Partners in Health is an outstanding organization that works to bring healthcare to some of the world's neediest populations. And if you haven’t read about its founder, Paul Farmer, I highly recommend the highly inspiring and challenging book Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracey Kidder. 

Give to those who are helping the strangers at our borders and in our land by contributing to National Immigration Law Center or RAICES. 

There are many more; these are just examples. Passover can be more than a personal holiday, more than meals and special foods. It can be a time when we take its lessons and help change lives.

Passover is about confronting injustice, living our values, following our laws, realizing freedom, becoming a nation, and more. These are our challenges today, too. Let Passover inspire us to do more than give up bread, but to take the steps needed to create miracles that transform our world.  

Thirteen Table Talk Topics For Your Holiday Dinner Instead of Politics

Many of us dread the holidays because we are forced to speak with “those” relatives. “Those” relatives or friends or people at our holiday meals are the ones with whom we have deeply rooted disagreements about key political and social ideas. We may have additional people with whom these topics are off the table because we fear that either the discussion will become unpleasant or that it will unalterably change our relationship. We agree to disagree and talk about the weather, sports, or television. We keep it trivial.

Here is an alternative.

Here are some questions that might help us explore the other person’s point of view and find some common ground – maybe. Disclaimer up front: I am not unbiased in this discussion. I have a point of view. These questions are designed to reveal the crucial foundation of that point of view. It is my hope that it is a foundation we can share. If it is not, well, we may have to ask more questions about the basis of our beliefs.

All of these questions could be followed by “how does our current government and social structure connect to our discussion?” Perhaps you don’t want to go there. Perhaps you want to limit examples to those in fiction or from television situations. Perhaps the examples are purely hypothetical and we forbid the political.

1. Which of the ten commandments do you think is the most important? Which is the least? Why? Should any be disregarded completely? Are any in need of modernizing? Do we need to add some?

2. When thinking about important religious figures, what are their key messages? What did they stand for and how did their actions show this?

3. While most people would agree that minor white lies are okay under some circumstances (do you?), when or why is it okay to lie about important things? When families (societies) are making major decisions that have a significant effect, should all of the members of the family (society) be informed or included? Should information be fully shared? When or why should we have open information or hidden information? Is it okay for someone to ask or tell you to lie? Is it okay to lie to save face or reputation?

4. What is the value of trust in a relationship? What happens when trust is violated?

5. What does it mean to be fair? What is fairness? What is justice? What does it mean to be just?

6. What is respect? How does one show respect? Why is that important? How is respect connected to manners and being polite?

7. What is integrity? Is it something we value? How do you recognize a person of integrity? How does one repair his or her integrity?

8. What do we mean when we use the term virtue? What are virtuous characteristics? What are their opposites?

9. If you were hiring someone to care for your children, grandchildren, parents, or grandparents, what traits would you want in that person? If you were hiring someone to manage your financial affairs, what would you want? How are these similar or different?

10. What makes someone a role model? Beyond family members, who would you want your children to use as role models and why? What would make you concerned if your child picked a role model with whom you disapproved?

11. What is the meaning of duty? What is the meaning of obligation? What is the difference between them? How are they different than responsibility or loyalty? What duties, obligations, and responsibilities do we have (okay – you may not want to go here)?

12. Is it ever okay to hurt someone else? If no, why not?  If yes, why? Do your answers change if we talk about physical or emotional pain? What do we mean when we say, “hurt?”

13. What is the difference between fairness and equality? Did your parents treat you (and your siblings, if you have siblings) fairly or equally? How did you know? How did it make you feel? In a family or classroom (or country), how should people be treated? Fairly? Equally? A combination? What does that look like?

Certainly there are many more issues we could add to this list of questions. What would happen if we discussed the underlying values and beliefs before asking if we agree with specific politicians or policies? Perhaps we could open up the conversation. It might still be uncomfortable and difficult. But it might move us past partisan labels and make us see each other in more complex and meaningful ways. Maybe.

Keeping Passover Is More Than What We Do Not Eat

People ask me if I am keeping Passover. What they really want to know is if I am eating any bread products. My usual response is, as an ethical-moral vegetarian, my eating habits are always foremost on my mind and connected to my values every day. I don’t need a holiday to remind me of the power of my food choices. But is keeping Passover just about food? Is Passover a holiday about diet? 

Passover can be a personal holiday in which people reflect on what it would have been like to be freed from slavery in Egypt. Freedom and slavery sit at the center of this holiday. The rights of an oppressed population, the costs to the oppressor, and the sacrifices and struggles that the fight for freedom requires are key themes of Passover. Yet, when we celebrate, we focus on food. They are the main symbols and the focus of the seder, but Passover is far more than what we eat or don’t eat.

The holiday is not without its problems. It is a holiday that seems to celebrate the pain of innocents and the deaths of children. Its literal historicity has been the subject of debate as well. At least one west coast rabbi created a “furor” when he openly stated that the story was not factual. What does it mean to “keep” traditions that are associated with this kind of story?  

The holiday has changed throughout the centuries. Jews from different parts of the world celebrate in their own ways and even disagree about what foods are permitted.  Given the diversity of Jewish thought, experience, and practice, it should come as no surprise that there are many ways to approach Passover. There is no one correct way to keep the holiday.

My wonderful little Humanistic congregation, Kol Hadash, has a food donation drive prior to the start of Passover. While removing certain foods from our diets is one way to keep the holiday, another is to help those for whom every day is a fast day.

Unfortunately, slavery is still with us. CNN recently reported about how the Attorney General of Missouri is fighting for freedom. Each year, I look for organizations that strive to end slavery and human trafficking. This year, I am contributing to Polaris. Fighting the plague of slavery is another way to keep Passover.

The Passover tradition is to keep the front door open, and include a glass of wine for the prophet Elijah. It is also customary to invite guests to our seder and welcome those who have no place to celebrate. In a time when national walls are rising, Passover’s story of a refugee people runs contrary to the current political mood. Do we want to lock Elijah out? Working to keep our national doors open is another way to keep the holiday.

Let us not slip into the easy answer that all Passover asks of us is the elimination of dietary fiber (which may be why the main phrase of this holiday is, “let my people GO!”).

Passover asks us for empathy. Passover asks us to repair the world. Passover asks us to include the stranger at our table. It is a powerful holiday that celebrates far more than what we do or do not eat.

Fear Is The Value Killer

When we are comfortable, well fed, and secure, we say nice things. When we feel frightened or in pain, those nice things are often forgotten. Why do we let negativity steal the essence of who we are? Why does fear so often harden into hate? Why are we so willing to dump our integrity when things get rough? Why do we fail the difficult tests over and over? 

The values that make us a free and civilized nation, the ones many good people have given their lives to protect, are the very things we are willing to trade when we think we are threatened. To misquote Frank Herbert, fear is the value killer.

The first value that we forget is: thou shalt not kill. Why are we obsessed with guns and violence? Why is the answer to violence always more violence? If something is dangerous, the answer is to create more danger? We do not flinch when we discuss mixing our most precious and vulnerable population, our children, with weapons. In fact, there is all too frequent talk that such a mix is a good thing. Do we want our children to kill? Is it okay to kill? Okay sometimes? Okay under certain circumstances? What happened to that simple value? What happened to the clear and unequivocal statement?  It is wrong to kill. Violence is never the solution – it is the problem! Once in a while, violence may appear to bring short-term gains, but it always creates long-term chaos. All of our religions and philosophies are clear about this. Why are we so quick to forget it? 

How do we deal with conflict and violence? A famous and well-regarded religious figure once prescribed turning the other cheek. Many revered voices have been very clear that answering violence with violence is the opposite of what we should do. But we know better. 

Which leads to the most important statement made by almost every religion and philosophy: Love thy neighbor. The ideas of love, charity, and kindness sit at the pinnacle of civilization and communal value. Why do we forget them so quickly? 

There are those who make their livelihood by promoting fear. They know that, if they threaten and frighten, they can manipulate people because people’s worst nature will override their higher values. They trigger our primal fears and then exploit them. They are the real enemy.

We must have the internal debate and win. Then, to those who would profit from our fears, we must say, “there is cause for concern, but I am the kind of person - and we are the kind of people - who will not kill, will not create violent chaos, will love rather than hate, and will champion the cause of those who have been oppressed, abused, and need our voices and actions.”

What is wrong with helping the poor, healing the sick, and clothing the naked? Some will scoff and say, "Not with my dollar! Let them help, heal and clothe themselves, like I did!" To think that we got where we are without the aid of others is a delusion. Do we want to be the people who turn the needy away from our door? Do we want to be the people who foster violence as the solution to problems? Do we want to be a nation of hate? 

There is nothing wrong (and everything right) with affirming that Black lives matter and addressing the gross inequities in our society. Some will defect the issue by saying that “all lives matter” or “what about Black on Black violence.” That is our fear talking again.  We can use any number of rationalizations to avoid the issue. We must own it. We must then work to create a just society. Do we want a world where anyone’s loved ones can be executed at a traffic stop?

What would that make us? Is that the world we dream for our children? 

The war is not on Christmas or Christianity. The war is on integrity. The war is on values. The war is on equality. The war is on justice. The war is on goodness and humane behavior. 

No one should need a gun. Everyone should be able to see a doctor. No one should go hungry. Everyone should be able to support him or herself through honest labor. And it is the community's responsibility to make this happen. It is my responsibility and your responsibility. No one fends for him or herself unless he or she is a hermit! We didn't pave the streets. We didn't choose our parents. We can't take credit for rolls of the dice that put us where we are.

Taking out our fears on people running from their homes, poor people who can't make ends meet, or people who differ from us in any way sacrifices the most critical values upon which our nation, and all of civilization rests. 

The fate of the world is in our hands, heads, and hearts.

Thou shalt not kill. Seek just. Violence is not an answer to violence. Help the poor and needy. Love thy neighbor as thyself. 

We are all neighbors.