Fighting Against Jack-O-Lanterns

For the fourth year in a row, I have gone to rebuild New Orleans with a group of high school students.  It has been six years since Hurricane Katrina blew past New Orleans, six years since the devastation wrought by the flooding took place.  Each year brings a different experience, a different group of teens, a different perspective.  Yet each year has a stronger impact on me than the year before.

The first time I went was 2007.  Rabbi Andy Koren and I had been chatting that summer, and he brought up the idea that he wanted to bring a group of teens to clean up New Orleans.  He asked if I had any interest in a trip like that, and I responded resounding in the positive.  That was all we spoke of it until just after the school year started.  He called me and asked if I was still interested, because he needed a few more teens to make the trip viable.  If I could bring a few and he brought a few we could make it work together.  So we met in New Orleans that winter: 8 from Temple Sinai in Miami, FL, and 15 from Temple Emanuel in Greensboro, NC.  That was the foundation on which we have tried to build each consecutive year, and this year was our best trip yet with the highest number of teens participating: 11 from Miami, 15 from Greensboro, and 5 from Roanoke, VA (their first time).

It is an exhausting whirlwind adventure for teens and chaperones alike. We go on a tour of New Orleans.  We visit Tulane University. We work in a soup kitchen. We build homes. We do environmental repair. We join Congregation Gates of Prayer in Metairie for Kabbalat Shabbat. We go to Rock and Bowl on Saturday night.  We come home physically exhausted and spiritually inspired.

This year our first day was touring and touring.  We met our tour guide Julie for burgers, then toured through the streets of New Orleans.  Those of us who were veterans on the trip (three of the adults, four of the kids) recognized the flood sites, levies, and pumping stations.  We remembered the shore of Lake Pontchartrain, so beautiful and calm, and the stories about how high the waters get on a windy day, not to mention during a hurricane of any magnitude.  We also noticed how clean and pretty the city looks on the surface.  There are new houses, new businesses, new street signs, and many of the lots are cleaned out and ready for sale.  The problem is under the surface.  The locals call it the “Jack-O-Lantern Effect.”  It looks shiny at first glance, then you notice the holes.

A deeper look under the surface reveals the hollow insides from Katrina’s wrath that have not yet been healed.  The 9^th Ward has yet to have significant repair, save the homes Brad Pitt’s foundation “Make It Right,” and the tell-tale pastel painted homes built by Habitat for Humanity.  On the outside of broken-down buildings you can see spray-painted X’s with notes left by search crews numbering the survivors and bodies found after Katrina.  A large barn we saw was painted with the note, “We’ll be back. Do not tear down.” But 6 years later it looks like they’re still not back.  Other homes have been completely razed and the owners have simply walked away from their property and relocated.  Others still didn’t even bother with tearing down their destroyed homes.  They simply took whatever they could salvage from their flooded homes and walked away.  That’s the Jack-O-Lantern Effect.  New homes and rebuilding on the surface while the inside decays, just praying for groups of people to descend and make their mark toward healing the Big Easy.

Whenever I look at the overgrown or cleaned bare lots of the 9^th Ward, I wonder how much it would really take to rebuild this amazing city.  So I asked our tour guide, who told us that with the dwindling of tour groups over the last 6 years, if we keep coming in the same numbers as right now, we will be finished with the rebuild by the year 2036. 

One other site always stirs my emotions, no matter how many times I have seen it.  Congregation Beth Israel, an Orthodox synagogue on Canal Blvd. in Lakeview…or what’s left of it.  The doors are sealed, the disrepair is visible from the outside, and the letters above the sealed entrance doors are barely legible.  They say, va’asu li mikdash, v’shachanti b’tocham, “Make me a sanctuary and I will dwell among them” (Exod. 25:8).  The “them” referred to in the book of Exodus is the Israelites, and when we look at this sanctuary that was destroyed by an act of God, it begs the question: “Where was God dwelling during Hurricane Katrina?”  It is the answer to this question that makes me emotional.  You see, God was in the people of another congregation across the city.  Congregation Gates of Prayer, led by Rabbi Robert Loewy, one of the unsung heroes of the flood’s aftermath, opened its doors and hearts to Beth Israel.  This Reform congregation in Metairie invited their displaced brethren in, kashered their kitchen so it could be used by both communities, gave them a place to hold services, and even gave them a piece of land on which they would build their new building.  Rabbi Loewy has been a model of the Jewish value of hachnasat orchim (welcoming guests) and continues to be an exemplar of the Talmudic dictum, “all [Jews are] responsible for one another” (B. Shavuot 39a).  In the words of Rabbi Koren, “None of those lists of great rabbis are worth a thing until Rabbi Loewy tops them all.”

New Orleans is truly an amazing city.  The music is infectious, the food is incredible, and the people are the salt of the earth.  The Mississippi River and the Gulf of Mexico make for two gorgeous coasts, and even the swampy marshlands are beautiful and serene.  It’s hard to describe, but something about the Big Easy seeps into my soul and keeps me wanting to go back as soon as I leave.  After four years of running this trip, we have our habits and our favorite places to go.  Rabbi Koren and I are getting to know the area and some of the people.  We know the story of the weeks and months that followed Hurricane Katrina in 2005. Yet something struck me this time that has never happened before.  Or perhaps the reverse of that is true—something did not happen that has happened I the past.

This year there was a palpable lack of locals thanking us for being there.  Of course people thanked us.  The organizations we worked with (The New Orleans Mission, Common Ground, and Habitat for Humanity) clearly appreciate the work we do.  But they are immersed in the effort to rebuild New Orleans.  They are reminded every day of how important it is to be there building, cleaning, planting, and feeding those in need. 

The difference came from the people at restaurants, on the street, and in the hotel who ask what we are doing with all these teens.  In the past when we have explained what we are doing there with all those kids, the response has been effusive gratitude.  “Thank you so much for coming here to help our city.” “New Orleans really appreciates your help.” “The work y’all are doing is so important to us.” The comments from the typical native helped to drive home to our teenagers exactly what they were doing.  They weren’t just there to buy trinkets and t-shirts or ogle the drunken revelers (from whom we keep them away).  They were there to do something incredibly important to every person they passed on the street, and just about every person made a point to stop and tell us.

This year they didn’t do that.  When people asked what our trip was for and I explained, “We’re here to help with the post-Katrina rebuilding effort,” one person (with a New Orleans accent) actually asked me why!  I told him there is still a lot of damage that needs to be repaired, and he cocked his head and said, “Well, have fun, y’all!”

The first time someone genuinely thanked us was Saturday night, and I was the only person who heard it.  I explained to a woman why we were here, and she thanked us and explained to me that she runs a hotel downtown.  I asked where she was in 2005, and she said she got out and went to a cousin in Alabama.  She shouted a little of her story to me over the Beatles’ music at Rock N’ Bowl, then she went to her friends and I went back to the teens.

Once again the Jack-O-Lantern Effect was in action.  So much of the surface has been cleaned up that people don’t remember how important it is to fix the damage that is still left over.  The travel groups have slowed down—maybe they are helping in other places in the world in need of attention, but New Orleans still needs us.  That’s why Rabbi Koren and I try to bring so many kids year after year.  If they are aware for just a moment of how important it is to look beneath the surface, they will continue to strive to rebuild the world, to do acts of Tikkun Olam in New Orleans, wherever they live, whatever cities need them.

You can’t spell Tikkun Olam without “NOLA,” and when NOLA gets rebuilt, the good times will surely roll again.

Struggles, Problems, and Mistakes

           This week I have watched two on-line videos about the same thing, but expressed in different ways.  The first was from a company called Pinkbat on a web site called simple truths.  In it, Michael McMillan explains that a pink baseball bat from his youth changed his entire perception of reality.  He doesn’t tell the story, but through a series of eye-tricking pictures, he explains that any problem we have is simply an opportunity.  He gives the example of Alexander Fleming, a scientist who found his Petri dishes covered with mold after some time away.  Instead of trashing his data and viewing the mold as a problem, he instead studies it and discovers penicillin.

McMillan explains the concept of perceptual blindness.  This is the idea that allows us to be confused by the picture of the candlestick that looks like silhouettes or the picture that might be and old woman looking forward or a young woman looking away.  We all have the tendency to filter out images and information that we do not want in our brains.  Once we realize the many different ways there are to distinguish things in this world, we become aware of the opportunities that exist if we could open up to them.

Watching videos on line and learning things from the internet can be an amazing experience.  We can learn new ideas and innovative thoughts that nobody has ever thought of before.  Or we can simply learn the lessons from Genesis in a new format. 

In the Torah portion we are reading this week, Jacob is confronted with a perceived problem.  He is on his way to meet his brother Esau.  The last time they saw each other was when Esau promised to kill Jacob, so you could say Jacob isn’t too thrilled about the upcoming meeting.  On the way to meet Esau, he spends the night alone on the bank of the Jabbok River.  He sends his family and servants and flocks and everything on ahead, and he is confronted by a “man,” with whom he wrestles for the entire night.  Now this seems like a big problem, but Jacob uses it as an opportunity.  They wrestle to a standstill, even after the man (who we know is an angel) wrenches Jacob’s hip at the thigh.

Jacob sees a problem, and he wrestles with it.  The word the Torah uses for wrestling is vaye’avek.  It is related to the very word for where he stands, Yabok, the Jabbok River.  He struggles all night, until he comes to a realization.  The angel asks to be let go, and Jacob asks for a blessing.  This is one of those strange moments in the Torah where it doesn’t seem to make sense.  When Jacob asks for a blessing, what should we expect the next words to be? Baruch atah, or may you be granted, something blessing-like.  Instead the angel says, “You will no longer be called jacob, but Israel, for you have struggled with beings divine and human and have prevailed.”

The angel teaches Jacob that in order to solve whatever he is struggling with, he needs a new perspective.  The angel lets him know that his struggle is actually a blessing.  It is a blessing that must be acknowledged with a change of name that embodies his new outlook.  Jacob, now Israel, takes this lesson and uses it on the Jabbok as well.  He changes the name from Yabok to Peniel.  Even the place of struggle becomes a place where God’s face can be seen.

The second video I saw was from the TED web site.  If you have never seen a TED video, they are absolutely worth your ten to fifteen minutes per viewing.  They are referred to as “riveting talks by remarkable people,” and there are over 1000 brief videos available for perusing for free.  One of the more recent conversations is by Stefon Harris, who plays a piece with his jazz quartet on the TED stage to prove a point. His thesis is, “There are no mistakes on the bandstand.”  He explains that the way jazz works is through syncopation and improvisation—the sense of rhythm that is unique to jazz, and the ability of the musicians to play off of one another.  It is the second aspect that allows for the idea that there are no mistakes on the bandstand.  If one of the musicians were to play a dissonant note, it could sound awkward and out of place, but only if the other musicians ignore it and play over it.  If instead the others pay attention to it and incorporate it into their own notes, they are turning a potential mistake into beautiful music.

He tells the TED audience that when, as a jazz musician, he hears someone play something different, his job is to “be patient, listen to what is going on, and pull from what is going on around me.  When you do that you inspire the other musicians and they give you more, and gradually it builds.”  In other words, allowing ourselves to work with the challenges life presents us is how we create something bigger than we originally intended.  We are all experts in our own fields.  We think we know everything about whatever it is that we do, and yet there is always someone from whom we can learn.  All we have to do is be in the moment, accept from one another, and let creativity flow.

Back to Jacob.  After his encounter with the angel he does meet his brother.  At first it looks like he is in for another wrestling match.  Esau runs at him, grabs him, falls on his neck and….kisses him, and they both cry.  I don’t believe Jacob could have allowed for his brother’s kiss if he had not encountered the angel first.  Imagine Jacob’s perspective.  He thought Esau wanted to kill him.  He sees Esau running, feels his brother grab hold of him and fall on his neck.  If he was not open to using his brother’s dissonance, he might only be willing to fight.  Instead Jacob and Esau cry in each other’s arms, apparently at peace with one another.  They later are able to bury their father Isaac together.

So whether we learn from Genesis or from the internet, the message still holds.  Throughout life we are presented with struggles.  When we encounter something difficult we have two choices.  We can see it as a problem, as a mistake, and fight against it, or we can pay attention to the possibilities it presents.  We can open ourselves up to new possibilities, and make beautiful music and engender strong connections with others.

CHAI ON CHANUKAH

New app available from the Apple App Store: Chai On Chanukah.  It's an interactive holiday app for kids (with some fun stuff for parents looking over the shoulders of their children).

Check it out, and write good reviews, because Martha Stewart's people are reviewing it too, and the more reviews it gets the more likely she will mention it on her site! Boo yah!!

http://itunes.apple.com/us/app/chai-on-chanukah/id482830803?ls=1&mt=8

Valarmabash!

Very excited to announce that an app I helped with is now out.  The info is here: http://www.fullrelease.us/ and the app (Shofar 4 Kidz) is download-able at the App Store for your iPhone or iPad.

Have fun!

The Conflict in Israel According to Peter Griffin

In an episode of “The Family Guy,” called “E. Peterbus Unum,” Peter is frustrated about not getting a tax refund.  So he declares his home and property a sovereign nation: Petoria.  In reaction, the US government surrounds his home with military forces and cuts off the power to Peter’s home.  His children can’t go to school, his wife can’t leave to buy groceries, and eventually he asks permission to return to the United States.

This Tuesday, September 20, the UN General Assembly will meet in New York City.  The General Assembly was established in 1945 and serves as the main deliberative, policy-making, and representative arm of the United Nations.  All 193 member countries of the UN are represented in the GA, and whenever a decision is to be made, each country gets one vote.  This coming Tuesday, the world expects at least 140 of these nations to approve a resolution put forward by the Palestinian Authority in which it will ask for the UN to recognize its sovereignty.

As far as I know, there are limited ways to become a recognized nation.  A sovereign state must have defined borders with a permanent population and government.  It must also be recognized by other autonomous nations.  To be granted independence, there cannot be any dependence on other nations for power or support.

Nevertheless, the Palestinian Authority intends to skip all the diplomatic hassle of coming to agreements with other nations.  They plan on subverting the normal order and seeking independence through the United Nations.  To be clear, the actual language of this resolution has not been made public.  We do not know what exactly they will ask for.  Common wisdom suggests that the PA will seek statehood within the pre-1967 borders with Fatah and Hamas as partners controlling the government.

This resolution is problematic on several levels.  First, it contradicts previous agreements between the Israeli and Palestinian governments that reject unilateral action by either party.  Second, in Oslo in 1993 both sides agreed that solutions to the conflict would only be determined through face-to-face bilateral negotiations between Israel and the Palestinians.  Third, it does not address the four main issues of the peace process up to this point—Jerusalem, refugees, borders, and settlements.    In other words, the idea of submitting a resolution to the United Nations for a sovereign Palestinian Authority is about as well thought out as the nation of Petoria.

Furthermore, there are several potential problems this resolution, should it pass, could create.  UN Resolution  #181 and others like it, calling for peaceful resolution to the dispute in Israel, might be abrogated under this new resolution.  Members of the US Congress have put forth legislation that would cancel funds to the PA as a result of this resolution passing.  As an Observer State, a non-voting UN member with certain special privileges, the Palestinian Authority could have access to the international court system to attempt to bring Israel to trial.  Israel as a sovereign nation could be delegitimized by the passage of this bill.

So why would the Palestinian Authority want to make such a foolish move?  PA President Mahmoud Abbas has said that any form of UN recognition, however symbolic, will increase their leverage over Israel.  He is treating this as a game in which he plays the United Nations against the peace process.  The United Nations, whose goals include international law, security, and peace, will be used to subvert the very peace it was founded to uphold.

Isaac Herzog, a former Israeli cabinet minister, and member of the Foreign and Defense Committee, wrote a pretty amazing article in which he suggests that Israel—a valid and recognized member of the United Nations—actually vote for Palestinian Autonomy on conditions.  In his words:

Israel should announce its support for the UN resolution on the condition that the Palestinians agree to return to the table as soon as possible and without preconditions, fully backed and supported by the international community, and to determine the final settlement through bilateral negotiations. The UN resolution must reflect this aspiration and include Israel’s perspective as well. In addition, the two parties must agree to a framework for an interim process that will allow for negotiations based on Israel’s recognition of a Palestinian state.

Herzog suggests that such a proposal would prevent a violent confrontation, give the Palestinians the dignity they seek, allow the parties to relaunch negotiations, and win Israel international favor while preserving its security needs.

The Reform Movement has long supported a two-state solution, and so do most Israelis.  The solution we envision, however, is one where both parties agree to the terms, rather than slamming the doors shut on the peace process just to sneak in through a window.  The Israeli government has repeatedly called on the Palestinians to return to the negotiating table with no preconditions, and allow this process to continue toward peace.

For now, American Jews must remain vigilant.  There are petitions going around on the internet for us to sign through ARZA, the URJ, JCRC, and more.  Google "Palestinian Authority UN Resolution" and you will probably find one.  Sign as many as you can.  As I have said before, call your government representatives: If you want their phone numbers, just ask.  I have them programmed in my cell phone, and you should too.

Most importantly, we must continue to pray for the day when all nations will be one and at peace.

The Four Hour Funeral

It all started after the food trucks.

On the way home, I notice what I thought was smoke pouring out of the side of my hood. I pull over and call AAA. Then I open my hood to see tons of steam, and what looks like melted plastic. So I wait for the tow truck to take me home, and as we drive I call for a rental car to be ready at 8am so I can get the car and be at work on time for the 10am meeting I have scheduled. Seems like it will be an expensive but uneventful morning.

Then morning came.

It was a pretty typical beginning, which means absolutely insane. The boys are getting ready at a snail's pace, they don't like breakfast (even though I made what they asked for), they don't want to brush their teeth, they don't want to wear swimsuits because they're not going swimming (even though they go swimming every day and love it), and Natalie is sleeping through most of this because they kept her up at all hours the night before. Finally it's my turn to get ready, and I ask Natalie if she can drop me off at the rental place as soon as the kids get picked up at 8. She says yes, then 8 comes and goes. The kids leave with their nanny, I'm ready to go, but she wants another cup of coffee. Then she wants breakfast. Next thing I know it's 8:50. I call the rental place and ask if they have my car and if they can pick me up.

"Sure," the guy assures me. "I will leave in a minute, as soon as I Mapquest your address. I'll call before I leave."

So I do a mad dash for the shower, shave, dress, and grab my phone. At 9:05 I call the place again.

"Hi, just wondering if you're on your way, it has been 15 minutes since he said he would Mapquest and leave, and I live 2 minutes from you."

"Oh, I'm sorry, we're waiting for more cars. We'll call you when we get one."

"Let me understand. You're waiting for more cars to come get me or more cars to rent?"

"To rent. We're out of cars. We'll call you when someone turns one in. It won't be more than an hour."

I look at the clock. It's 9:20. If I leave in 10 minutes I'll barely make it to work on time. Just then, the nanny comes back and says I can use her car for the day, as long as I get it back on time for her to pick up the kids at camp by 3:45. No problem, I think. I have a funeral that starts at 11:30, and I should be done by 1:30, home by 2:15. Piece of cake.

Famous last thoughts, but I did make it to my 10am meeting on time.

The family had asked that I show up to the funeral home at 11:00 in case anybody wanted to share any last minute thoughts. I told them that was a little early, but they seemed to need it. So I left the synagogue at 11--the funeral home is two minutes away. I sauntered in a little after 11, to warm greetings by the mourners. The entire funeral attendance consisted of the deceased woman's son and daughter-in-law, two of the three granddaughters with their husbands, and all three great-grandchildren, age 6 and below. The 99-year-old deceased woman lived a great life and enjoyed time with her three grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. Her death was sad but not tragic. I had explained to them several time that the service would be very brief. A few psalms, some words of memory, some words of blessing, then we would head to the cemetery. At this point, I was right. We left the funeral home in North Miami Beach at about noon for the hour-long slow drive to Doral.

I made phone calls and marveled at how much nicer the nanny's car is than mine. One of the calls was to the rental place. They still did not have a car for me and would call when they got one. Hopefully within the next hour.

When we got to the graveside, we all pulled over and I got the family settled under the shelter they set up. The funeral director was helping the grave diggers pull the casket out of the hearse, and I walked over to let them know that we would be lowering the casket immediately. I wanted to save a little time and get out of there as fast as I could. After all, I had to return the nanny's car and try to get my rental (even thought the rental place still had not called) or try to get my car fixed.

As I approach the funeral director says, "Did they tell you about our little snag?"

"No," I say as the first drops of worry enter my mind, "what little snag?"

"Well, it seems we have the wrong size casket to fit in the vault."

(A vault is a concrete box that they put at the bottom of a grave to weigh down the casket if the water level rises too much. It is a state law that graves have these vaults. This particular vault is 26 1/2" wide. The casket is 28" wide, plus it had handles.)

Trying not to panic, I ask, "What do we do?"

So the funeral director, the grave diggers, the cemetery director, and I sort of huddle around the grave, looking down at the vault with our backs to the mourners. Occasionally we turn around and smile at them to assure them that everything is going to be all right. There is a great deal of finger-pointing at our huddle between the two directors, and finally they get on the phone to their managers. It turns out that the cemetery only has this size vault, and they tell all the funeral homes that they cannot bury larger caskets in the ground. So the body has to be brought back to North Miami Beach, transferred to another casket, and returned again to Doral. The drive alone should take 90 minutes. I look at a clock. It's already 1:30. I am not going to get home on time.

After frantic calls and texts to my wife and to my assistant, I get all my appointments cancelled, we find a way to get the kids, and I sit down with the mourners. There is no way I am going to get anywhere on time, so I might as well just focus on them. As it turns out, they are really fascinating people. The son is a Hollywood producer. Nothing huge, no blockbusters, but a lot of films I've seen. Very cool stuff. The granddaughters are lawyers, and they do a lot of work for disadvantaged clients on behalf of the state. Even the great-granddaughter had a cool story about her first few days at "clown camp" in the Boston area. We chatted about movies, horses and donkeys, Florida versus Jewish burial law, and the weather (which had gone from thunderstorm to bright shiny day in a matter of minutes--it's Florida). We repeatedly commented that we had never experienced nor heard of anything like this happening before. Oh, and the rental place called to tell me they had a car, but I had to get there fast because there was a line. I asked if they would hold it for me until 4.

At 3:04 the hearse returns with the new casket (a very nice one, I might add). The burial ceremony continues, and by 3:15 we are shoveling dirt graveside. We all waited as the lid was placed on the vault, and then the mourners left. So I followed suit. I went to shake hands with the son, the new eldest of the family. He ignored my hand, opened his arms, and took me in to a huge hug. Not a slap-the-back hug either, but a real, warm hug. It spoke greater volumes to me than the conversations we had as we waited, and meant much more.

I got in the nanny's car at 3:35, after four and a half hours with this family. I was tired and hungry, but at the same time felt like I had made a connection with nine really cool people. It was an interesting afternoon, to say the least.

As for my car, it needs a new engine. The melted plastic apparently used to be something pretty important. As important as the indicator that tells you if your engine is heating up, it would seem.

One of our fourth grade students here at Temple Sinai said last weekend was like a fairy tale. The prince and the princess were married, and the good guys got the bad guy…and I hear that a mega-wealthy Duke who wants to be king has requested to see the death certificate.

It certainly felt like I was living in a fairy tale when I heard that Rush Limbaugh even uttered the phrase, “God bless President Obama.” Of course, it turns out that he was being sarcastic, criticizing the president for taking too much credit for the raid he directed. But at least partisan pot-shots bring us back to reality. The reality is that on Sunday evening in Abbottabad, Pakistan, a team of Navy Seals found Osama Bin Laden. After being dropped by helicopter into his compound and enduring a 40-minute fire fight, Bin Laden was identified, shot, and killed.

For some of us it feels like the dragon that has been terrorizing our village for the past decade will never again harm us. For others it opens a dialogue of doubt and mistrust. For others it is an opportunity to forward internet memes.

I was in Israel 10 years ago on September 11, and I vividly remember watching the television for three days straight as we wondered what was going to happen to us as Americans in the Middle East. I remember the moment in time when many of us thought that retaliation was the only possible solution. I remember watching news clip after news clip of Al-Qaida supporters dancing in the streets and celebrating at our loss. It made us angry. So angry their leaders told them to stop for fear of what Americans might do.

When I first learned that Bin Laden had been killed, my initial reaction was relief—even joy. I was glad he was gone, and relieved that the head of the beast had been cut off. Then the tweets and texts started pouring in. People were rejoicing in a way that reminded me of those clips 10 years ago.

Looking at our sacred texts, however, teaches us a different message. The book of Proverbs says, “When your enemy falls do not celebrate, and when he stumbles do not rejoice” (24:17). This line comes right after the Proverb tells us that those who do not follow God’s ways are guaranteed to fall. Yet we are not supposed to rejoice when they do. When they die, all opportunity is lost. What miniscule chance there may have been for them to repent is gone. As the book of Ezekiel teaches us, God does not desire the death of the wicked, but that they turn from their ways and live (18:23).

A 13th century collection of Midrash called Yalkut Shimoni comments on the song at the sea, the poem the Israelites sing after they are saved from the Egyptian Army. God makes the Red Sea part for the Israelites, and they cross on dry land. The Egyptians follow close behind, but as soon as the Israelites are safely across, the sea closes and the Egyptians drown. Moses and Miriam lead the Israelites in song praising God, and up above the angels are watching. When the angels begin to sing, God scolds them, “You want to sing while my children are drowning?” We are reminded that all human beings are created in the image of God. Not all the good ones or all with exception. Every human being is in the image of God. Even those who might do us harm.

There are teachings in our tradition that seem to contradict this notion. The Parashah we read this week gives us a review of the law of retaliation. Near the end of Parashat Emor, we read:

If a man maims another, as he has done so shall it be done to him: break for break, eye for eye, tooth for tooth. The injury he inflicted on another shall be inflicted on him. One who kills a beast shall make restitution for it; but one who kills a human being shall be put to death. You shall have one standard for stranger and citizen alike: for I Adonai am your God.

The rabbis jump all over this verse. 11th century French commentator Rashi says that it should not be translated as inflicted, but as rendered, which implies commerce. Therefore, the comparison is not a physical one but a financial one. A man who loses an eye must be paid restitution for that eye, for example. In the early 12th century, Spanish Rabbi Abraham ibn Ezra points out that there is no way to possible exact such a punishment physically. In the case of a break for a break, how could the break be made in exactly the same location? Even more so for an eye. Say a one-eyed man causes another man’s eye to be lost. Is it fair, ibn Ezra asks, to make one man go blind in exchange for taking half of the vision of another? So even in the case of lex talionis, we are not commanded to literally injure someone who injures us or even murder a murderer. Instead we are to seek justice. Punish them, but do not allow violence to beget violence.

Simply striking back when our enemies strike us would be giving in to our animal instincts. When the Israelites are saved at the Red Sea at the expense of the Egyptians, God lets them sing. They have just been freed from Egypt. They are confused, tired, and scared. They know they are no longer slaves to Egyptian rule, but they do not know what lies ahead of them. They are in limbo, in between freedom and redemption. When they leave Egypt their bodies are saved, but when they receive Torah they have the ability to free their minds.

The same is true for America. For the past decade we have focused on a scary monster dubbed “Terror.” We have been afraid for ten years to travel; we have allowed prejudice and bigotry to take over our political discourse; we have looked into the eyes of God’s creations and seen only that which is, “other.” Last weekend our Navy Seals took down a symbol of that monster’s power. Our struggle is not over. We will have more monsters to fight, more dragons to slay. We are free but not yet redeemed. We still have to free our minds. As a nation we must come to the realization that we must treat all human beings—even those who would do us harm—as they are: created in the image of God. Then we will be working toward the day when God will be one and God’s name will be one.