|
|
April 6, 2001/Nisan 13, 5761, Vol. 53, No.27
Helping others, we strengthen ourselves
JACOB SCHREIBER
Atlanta Jewish Times
For over 2,000 years the Jewish people experienced the pain and humiliation of being exiled from our land, living in the Diaspora and being treated as strangers - as the "other." Routinely subjected to poverty, powerlessness, discrimination, fear and pogroms, our grandparents often lived little better than the Hebrews did when they were slaves in Egypt.
How times have changed over the past 50 years. While Diaspora Jews still face serious challenges, no community is in immediate danger of widespread physical harm. In America, Jews are experiencing unprecedented levels of acceptance, security, wealth, participation and power.
But this golden age brings with it a new set of responsibilities, ones that we should explore as we gather around our seder tables to retell the story of our people's Exodus from Egypt and celebrate the gifts of freedom.
As we ceremonially invite the poor to join our tables, we may want to ask ourselves the following questions:
- How must we amend our political and philanthropic behavior now that we're not a tenuous minority but part of the business and cultural elite?
- How do we go from always looking over our shoulders to focusing our attention on those populations really at risk?
- What in our Jewish heritage guides us so that we may sufficiently aid the powerless? "You shall not oppress a stranger for you know the feelings of a stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt" (Exodus 23:9).
Stated 36 times in various forms in the Torah, this mitzvah is the most repeated directive in the Five Books of Moses. At times, it is coupled with the mitzvah of being kind to the widow and orphan - or in other words, society's powerless populations.
The message is clear: Because the Jewish people long endured being powerless and persecuted, we are obligated to insure that others don't similarly suffer.
For all its prosperity, the United States does not lack for "strangers" living among us. They are the migrant worker, the homeless, the handicapped, the aged, the poor. They are the people with no voice, who are seen but not heard, alive but dying inside. They are both individuals and large groups, surviving on the margins of society - all human beings in need of powerful champions.
The American Jewish community is wonderfully charitable and filled with individuals and organizations that fight for these people. But we're not sure our community, which for good reasons places atop our agenda the need to bolster our own spiritual and numerical continuity, has fully grasped the nature of our transformation from outsider to insider, from the powerless to the powerful.
While we speak to our lawmakers about homelessness and hate crimes, we don't make lobbying for them a priority. While some bemoan the fact that 30 million people in this richest country in the world are without health insurance, our organized community is nowhere to be found in the fight to correct this injustice.
Individually, many of us participate in our synagogue tikkun olam (healing the world) projects, but have we made it a family priority to go to a soup kitchen, women's shelter, old age home, hospital or group home regularly?
Though one of the first things we do at the seder is open our doors and say, "Let those who are hungry enter and eat," how many of us actually invited a needy or lonely person to join our seder this year? Alternatively, how many of us heeded the calls of Mazon: The Jewish Response to Hunger, to donate the amount it would have cost if we had invited a hungry mouth to homes?
This kind of activism and philanthropy does not take away from the Jewish community's drive to build continuity. It enhances it. Those who worry about diverting resources away from community projects don't realize that helping the powerless "stranger" is a community project - is a biblical and religious priority - that strengthens us as just, moral, vibrant 21st century Jews.
Enacting this type of change in our collective mindset is not easy or natural. Our people have not operated from such positions of strength in 2,000 years, and our instincts haven't been honed to lead the way; they've been conditioned to adapt, to circle the wagons, to survive.
This Passover, as we place ourselves in our ancestors' sandals in Egypt, we may also try to place ourselves in the shoes of today's populations of powerless strangers. And as we recline to drink our wine and celebrate our blessed freedom, we may want to explore the true meaning of modern freedom - and its attendant responsibilities.
|
