Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Reasons for My Involvement in the Peace Movement
The more deeply immersed I became in the thinking of the prophets, the more powerfully it became clear to me what the lives of the prophets sought to convey: that morally speaking there is no limit to the concern one must feel for the suffering of human beings. It also became clear to me that in regard to cruelties committed in the name of a free society, some are guilty, while all are responsible. I did not feel guilty as an individual American for the bloodshed in Vietnam, but I felt deeply responsible. "Thou shalt not stand idly by the blood of they neighbor" (Leviticus 19:15). This is not a recommendation but an imperative, a supreme commandment. And so I decided to change my mode of living and to become active in the cause of peace in Vietnam.
Questions for Reflection
1. What does it mean to erase the limits of compassion? Do you agree with Rabbi Heschel's statement, or are there nuances to this belief?
2. Do you see the statement that "few are guilty but all are responsible" as a call to action or as a roadblock to action? Does this apply to every injustice in the world?
3. How does the verse from Leviticus and Rabbi Heschel's interpretation of it sit with your personal view on caring for your neighbor? How should we challenge ourselves to read that verse and others like it throughout the Torah?
Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Public Address
In order to truly influence a fellow, we must devote ourselves to him or her without regard to whether s/he will be influenced or not. He is a fellow human being who needs your help. So help him. If she lacks something material, help her. If she is spiritually lost, help her. Many see the point of influencing a fellow Jew to do a good deed, a mitzvah -- to put on tefillin, to perform a single act of charity, to avoid a moral transgression -- if this leads to a greater involvement, and ultimately, a complete transformation. But when confronted with a "lost case" they feel it's a waste of time. Why bother? Why bother? Because you care about him, not only about what he ought to be, what he will be, or what you see in him. He lacks something now, and you are privileged to be of assistance. If you care for him because you expect to influence him, then chances are he won't respond. But if you care for him whether he responds or not, then he will respond.
Questions for Reflection
1. What is the takeaway from the Rebbe's statement? What are some examples outside of tefillin or tzedakah that illustrate this point (personal or hypothetical)?
2. There are some who wince when they see the word "privilege." Let's wrestle with that discomfort. What does privilege mean in this case? Why it a word that triggers such a visceral reaction in people? How can we change the reaction so that we can get to the essence of this message without feeling misunderstood or bogged down in politics rather than action?
Rabbi Sharon Brous, Poor People's Campaign Remarks
The oldest and boldest formula for economic justice comes from the Hebrew Bible (Leviticus 25:10). In the 50th year, the Jubilee, the great shofar is sounded. All slaves are freed and all property reverts to its original owners. A holy RESET button is pressed. This is a sweeping and revolutionary act of economic redress rooted in the assumption that in a just society, there can be no permanent class of poor.
The destitute, the exploited, the downtrodden must be given a fair shot and a fair share. Most astonishingly, we’re taught that overturning economic systems benefits not only the enslaved and the poor. It keeps the whole society from breaking: “Proclaim liberty throughout the land, for all its inhabitants.” (Leviticus 25:10)
Think of it: the liberation of the poor is a prerequisite for the liberation of all people! I don’t care what zip code you live in, how many graduate degrees you hold, how secure your pension. Your liberation is tied up in the liberation of every person who must choose between prescription drugs and groceries, who worries if the water she serves her thirsty children is tainted with lead. It is simply inconceivable that I could live freely while my neighbor lives in perpetual anxiety over whether she, or her loved ones, will be one of the thousands to die this year from poverty.
The Torah is desperate for us to learn the great secret of human existence: We are all bound up in one another. Solidarity is not a choice to opt into or out of: our shared humanity links our destinies to one another. My liberation is contingent on yours; and yours, on mine. This movement, rooted in the understanding of interlocking injustices, insists: we cannot fight systemic poverty while ignoring white supremacy and patriarchy. And we cannot fight racism without also fighting antisemitism, Islamophobia, homo- and transphobia, xenophobia. This movement—dedicated to lifting up the widow, the orphan and the stranger—depends on all of us, and will free us all.
Questions for Reflection
1. While we are quick to seize on mitzvot that have a physical or ritualistic element to them, commandments like economic equality and debt forgiveness are rarely discussed. Why are financial mitzvot more difficult for us?
2. How can we embrace our country's economic decision making while simultaneously adhering to a Jewish idea of economics? Is there any dissonance here or are we just not having the conversation?
3. Rabbi Brous makes a bold statement that the Torah rejects isolationism and self separation. How does that play out in her statement? Do you agree or disagree with the message?
4. Do you think it's hypocritical of us to fight a thread of a systemic issue and ignore the leviathan behind it? For example, is it hypocritical or wrong in some way to fight against anti-semitism but say nothing when we see islamaphobia or any other form of racism?
Reb Zalman Schachter-Shlomi, The First Step: A Guide for the New Jewish Spirit
Eggs are generally considered kosher, but what about eggs from chickens who spend their entire lives imprisoned in a cage one cubic foot in size? Food pellets are brought to them on one conveyor belt; their droppings and eggs are taken away on another. The Bible forbids us to torment animals or cause them any unnecessary grief. Raising chickens who can go out sometimes and see the sky or eat a worm or blade of grass is one thing, but manufacturing them in the concentration camp conditions of contemporary "poultry ranches" is quite another.
Questions for Reflection
1. Kashrut in general and shechting in particular are meant to prevent the suffering of an animal. What challenges do we run into in today's food systems while trying to preserve the ikar of keeping kosher?
2. How can we use our Judaism to be more mindful of our food sources and the treatment of the animals who die to give us sustenance?
3. Extending beyond food, how do we see the treatment of animals in the world around us, and what is the Jewish response to this treatment? What are some examples we can rally behind?
Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, To Heal a Fractured World
The beauty of justice is that it belongs to a world of order constructed out of universal rules through which each of us stands equally before the law. Hessed, by contrast, is intrinsically personal. We cannot care for the sick, bring comfort to the distressed or welcome a visitor impersonally. If we do so, it merely shows that we have not understood what these activities are. Justice demands disengagement… Hessed is an act of engagement. Justice is best administered without emotion. Hessed exists only in virtue of emotion, empathy and sympathy, feeling-with and feeling-for. We act with kindness because we know what it feels like to be in need of kindness. We comfort the mourners because we know what it is to mourn. Hessed requires not detached rationality but emotional intelligence.
Questions for Reflection
1. What, according to Rabbi Sacks, is the difference between justice and chessed?
2. Which comes easier for us? Is there any room for overlap? Why or why not?
3. What is the standard of justice? If it is separated from the heart and from the personal, then how do we determine what is just and what is unjust?
4. Similarly, if chessed is based on personal experience and the emotion of understanding human pain, how do we exercise compassion to those whose experiences are so different than our own?
Concluding Questions
1. Tikkun Olam and Social Justice have become contentious concepts in our tradition. How do we get past the debate of "Jewish" justice so that we can help make the world better?
2. What confuses or frustrates you about Jewish responses to local, national, or global issues? What would help make the conversation less loaded?
3. Do you have any ritual or Jewish mindfulness that goes into your own tzedakah, tikkun, and / or chessed? If so, what is it / are they? If not, what would you like to see? Let's workshop some ideas together!