“Kol HaOlam Kulo, Gesher Tzar Me’od: All the world is a very narrow bridge – the most important thing is not to be afraid.” These are the words of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov.
Jewish leaders, throughout our civilization, have always found inspiration and insight in our textual tradition. And it is Rabbi Nachman’s words that seem appropriately fitting for me, and for us, in this moment of American [and more specifically, American Jewish] life.
The polarization and divisiveness that has plagued our political and social discourse has impacted ALL OF US in some way. Additionally, the intersection of Israel’s increasing alienation across the global community with the volatility of the U.S. presidential election generated a perfect storm of discord throughout the American Jewish landscape, even pitting loved ones against each other.
The narrow bridge, in which Rabbi Nachman speaks of, can challenge us. Yet, it can also serve as a motivator in which we cannot, and should not fear.
So, on this inauguration day, as we usher in a new chapter of political leadership, I look to Torah as my inspiration and motivation. And perhaps, in some Divine way, we begin reading the chapters of the Exodus narrative this week: the story of an enslaved people, exiting the bonds of slavery, and journeying into the wilderness; embracing, and often, challenging the unknowns/unchartered waters.
Through the retelling of this journey, we should be encouraged by the words of Moses to Joshua toward the end of the journey: Chazak v’ematz – to be strong and of good courage; yet toward the beginning we are first reminded of “a new king, who did not know about Joseph, came to power over Egypt.” (Ex. 1:8)
The new king’s ascension to the top office in the land did not in any way indicate a change in the very nature of that land. In fact, Egypt was still the same Egypt. The Egyptians did not need to let the fears and insecurities of their new leader influence them to change their thinking, priorities, and ideals, such that the worst of the human condition was put on display. Several times in the book of Genesis, Egypt had in fact welcomed the tired, poor, huddled masses of the children of Israel so that they could flee famine. THIS was the ideal Egypt. Yet, in one generation, in one verse of Torah, Egypt became a nation that would enslave the Israelites for 400 years, due to the unwarranted fears of its new leader.
In today’s inaugural speech, President Trump noted that a nation exists to serve its citizens and that we share one heart, one home, and one glorious destiny.
I want to agree with these sentiments as well, but feel challenged today with our nation’s current reality. Recent weeks have brought difficult conversations and more to our family. And most recently, these past days, in our local school community as well. Swastikas were painted and carved into trees on two of our local school campuses; another at the seminary where I (and your other two rabbis) studied to be a rabbi.
My children may not yet be thinking actively about these incidents, or what’s in store for them and their futures – but I have no doubt, they have and continue to absorb the energy of the pains of our fractured world, and the questionable safety they now face as Jews in America.
On this Shabbat, as we reflect on today’s transfer of power, in concert with the ascension of a new pharaoh in this week’s portion, we must ask ourselves: how do we protect against allowing fear, our own and that of others to dominate our decision making? How do we fight anti-Semitism against us while simultaneously resisting our own inclinations to stereotype others? I believe, as Americans, and especially as a Jewish people, we must balance communal inclusivity with ideological integrity, balancing politics with the fearless hunger and timeless values of our tradition.
As an antidote to the fractures and narrow bridges we see and face, Nicole and I have noted at times around our dinner table, that our tradition commands: “You are not required to finish the task, but neither are you free to desist from it” (Pirkei Avot 2:21).
Indeed, each of us must do our part to protect the most vulnerable among us, and advance the progress in policies we wish to champion.
So tomorrow morning, our children will watch their mother and safta (along with countless others from our community) head down to march in the Women’s March on Washington,not in protest, but in solidarity – with those who identify as women, along with allies of all races, ethnicities, and religions –united in support of women’s equality in our coutry. I am so very proud of them for standing up for themselves and what they believe, and for refusing to shy away from the difficult task of moving forward in this new and challenging time.
On this inauguration day, I want my children to know enough about themselves, who they are and what THEY stand for; and unlike many of the Israelites at the beginning of their journey –feel free to be curious and not fearful of the differences or challenges that might lie ahead. They can, and should be part of the civil discourse, and in fact, our tradition mandates such.
As we move into this Shabbat, on the dawn of new political leadership, confronting the unknowns by walking the narrow bridge, what I have come to learn is that it was never about the new King who knew not Joseph. Rather, it was the fear that seemingly paralyzed the Egyptian Community. Today for me is about opportunity; it is about our personal and communal potential; it is about challenging ourselves to walk a path, no matter how narrow, that models the best within us, in order to champion our greatest love and potential as individuals who belong to something even greater.
Two of my colleagues, Rabbis Mona Alfi and Nancy Wechsler, created the following prayer, which beautifully expresses a prayer for a unifying vision based on the Declaration of Independence.
“Mi she’berach Avoteinu v’Imoteinu – May the One who blessed our founding fathers and mothers bless us as well, with comfort and inspiration as we begin this new year. We believe that some truths are self-evident, all people, in our many glorious manifestations, are created equal. We are all endowed by our Creator with certain unalienable Rights, Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
The burden upon our shoulders to remember the wisdom and courage of those who came before us, who dared to dream of a better future. Yet, to remember is not enough. In each generation we are called to take action, to preserve and protect the fragile dreams upon which our nation was founded.
In seasons of turbulence,
we pray for a steady hand to guide our ship.
As storms of anger rage, we pray for sanctuary.
As fists clench, we pray for open hearts.
When sharp words slash like swords,
we pray to transform them into plowshares
to sow seeds of understanding and respect.
Now is not the time to avert our gaze
from what troubles our hearts.
Now is the time to build friendships.
Now is the time to fiercely protect the earth that sustains us.
Now is the time to honor with our words, and with our actions,
the spark of holiness that resides in every human being.
And by so doing, we honor our country, our children and our