Our Ongoing Work of Redemption

Another Passover, aka the Feast of Freedom, and the week which follows thereafter which is the Festival of Unleavened Bread, have now passed once again. Annually, we take these 8 days to think about freedom and enslavement, and what we can do about it. In our ongoing Torah cycle, we have now once again crossed over the Sea, landing safely on the other side as our journey in freedom continues.

The entire saga revolves around the concept of redemption. However, unlike some religious concepts of redemption which has those who are redeemed as passive receptors, the Jewish concept is clear: every step of our process has been hard-fought, requiring a lot of effort and action on the part of every individual who crossed that Sea of Reeds.

Every Hebrew slave had to take certain steps, perform certain actions, many of which were a profound act of civil disobedience in the face of their oppressors, and once that domino fell, it was a chain of events from which there was no turning back, no "Oops! Slavery wasn't so bad after all!"

As Rabbi Jill Berkson Zimmerman has noted, "Our ancestors had to step out of the pain that they knew into a vast uncertainty. As poet Marge Piercy wrote, it takes '… courage to walk out of the pain that is known into the pain that cannot be imagined, mapless, walking into the wilderness, going barefoot with a canteen into the desert …'." Rabbi Zimmerman concludes, "This is how we must read the story of Passover — not as history, but for the deep spiritual truth that we must participate in our own redemption."

So why am I still talking about Passover thoughts when we are clearly out of that holiday and have moved into counting the Omer as we journey ever onwards towards Mt. Sinai? I do so because our participation in our redemption is an ongoing process. Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, a much loved and revered Jewish sage, said: “The Exodus from Egypt occurs in every human being, in every era, in every year and even on every day.”

While the day of Passover and the week of unleavened bread which follows focuses on the immediate experience of liberation––breaking the chains of enslavement and walking into freedom––now that we have arrived on a new shore, there is still work to be done. Our redemption must be nurtured, maintained, safeguarded.

How often have we seen this play out, especially in recent years, in our political climate? As a child growing up in the late 60's and early 70's, I thought basic civil rights was a settled matter. And yet, here we are today with so much undone and so much more yet to be done. Some days it seems as if for every three steps we took forward 5 decades ago, we have watched in horror as our country has shifted four gigantic leaps backwards.

For all the progress made in religious tolerance and liberty after the Shoah (Holocaust) in the 1940's, we find today a world-wide resurgence of antisemitism, even in this country. Christians slaughtered in Sri Lanka on their holy day of Easter because they are in the minority there. Racial, ethnic, and religious "cleansings" of all kinds all over the world.

I'll be honest; between Pittsburgh only 6 months ago and San Diego only a few days ago, I am afraid to do the work I had planned on doing in this area. I don't feel safe; I have too many strikes against me: Liberal, female, gay, Jewish, fat, disabled... yet, it's not my life I fear;  I fear those who might be harmed by association if I do something publicly advertised as a Rabbi here in this area. The brave Jewish martyr who lost her life a few days ago did so to protect her Rabbi, stepping in between the gunman and her Rabbi. Those in Pittsburgh lost their lives just because they had gathered to pray in a synagogue; they had associated with Jews and therefore were assumed to be Jews. The gunmen don't stop and ask if everyone there is a Jew; they assume and they shoot. And I just cannot bear the thought that my leading a prayer service as a Rabbi could result in others being harmed or even killed by simple association.

A few people have tried to tell me that this is not something that would happen here. And yet, who would expect such atrocities in Pittsburgh or San Diego? Or the too many school shootings in innocent, "safe" communities?

And so, here we are in our Torah story, on the other shore of the Sea, heading into vastly unknown territory, our minds still shaking off the shackles of enslavement which held us bound for too long. The road ahead is difficult, filled with perils. We have hope that it can and will be better, but there is still redemption work to do.

Even as our holiday which only just passed was a mark of joy, the realities of everyday life in this country has shattered all sense of utopia and brings us face to face with the stark reality of the challenges that lie ahead.

I close today's Ramble with a prayer (adapted from one written by Rabbi Yael Levy):

With hearts open to our brothers and sisters in San Diego, Sri Lanka and around the world, we pray that the weeks ahead strengthen our resolve not to let hatred and fear rule. May we continue to build bridges of connection, and act with love and compassion towards all people.

We offer prayers of comfort and love for all who mourn, and prayers of determination and courage as we act for healing, social equity, and peace, for the world needs our strength and compassion now more than ever.

With the Psalmist, we say, "May loving kindness and truth meet. May Justice and Peace embrace." (Psalm 85:12)

May we make it so. May we not tire of the journey ahead, for none of us are truly free until all of us are truly free. This is part of our ongoing work of redemption.