JRLC Keynote Address 3-13-2018

Let me begin by thanking Anne [Krisnik] and the Joint Religious Legislative Coalition for inviting me to be here with you all this morning.  As I speak with colleagues throughout the country, it is clear to me that the JRLC is unique.  The JRLC affords us an opportunity to come together in a very special way and I feel quite honored to be a part of it.     

Our theme today, or mantra if you will, is “if not now, when?”  I’d like for us to consider for a few minutes together, when that now might have been…and what its reality is.  Or was.  Imagine for a moment:

A time of political uncertainty.  A time of rival factions among the great leaders of the world.  A difficult political atmosphere and those in positions of power going to great lengths to consolidate that power between family members, friends and hopeful allies.  The enemy of my enemy is my friend.  The center of gravity of world power seems to be shifting.  Wealth is increasingly and alarmingly consolidated among the wealthiest people.  The lower classes pay more in taxes and receive less and less in return.  Millions of people in the world live in squalor…many have only known harsh conditions from birth on.  Laws seem to advantage the upper classes of free men.  Everything that is known about the world is called into question in an existential way.  Some feel as if there is a seismic shift in history occurring.

 It is tempting to think that I am describing the world as we know it today.  And there may be some parallels.  But, the time I was describing was the world two millennia ago during the life of the great Rabbinic Sage Hillel; sometimes called Hillel, the Elder.  It was Hillel who said those famous words that frame our time together today. “If not now, when?”  In his time, the “when” was the present…the reality in which he lived.  In our time, too, the “when” is our present…the reality in which we live.  The when is now.

We do not know many details about Hillel’s life.  But rabbinic tradition, from today dating all the way back to the days of Hillel, is a tradition that derives great meaning from the tiniest of clues… and those clues are details hidden within stories.  And everything we know about Hillel comes from our Rabbinic Texts that date back almost 2000 years.  From those stories a picture begins to emerge of someone quite impressive…perhaps someone to emulate today in our now.  

That rabbinic tradition teaches us that Hillel was born in Babylon about 75 years before the Common Era.  On his father’s side he was a member of the Tribe of Benjamin.  His mother was a descendant of King David.   At some point, Hillel immigrated to Jerusalem so that he could study under the sages there.  One Great Sage of that time, named Shemaya, who likely had a great impact on Hillel, is quoted in the Mishnah similarly to the tone in some of Hillel’s statements.  He said, "Love work. Hate authority. Don't get overly familiar with the government." (Avoth 1:10).  These were not anarchists.  But perhaps their literary legacy taken together, along with others and what we know of the turmoil in that period describes a world full of misery.  A world that needed “when” to be now.  

Hillel was known to have lived in dire poverty.  One rabbinic anecdote tells us that when a poor person reaches the gates of the world to come, they will be brought before a heavenly tribunal and they will be asked, “Why have you not occupied your time with the study of the Law?”  If they reply that it is because they barely had enough money even to eat, let alone study, the court will say, “But, were you poorer than Hillel?”  

Hillel supported himself through hard labor.  He was a wood cutter.  That is tough work and was not a high earning job.  Once when Hillel was not able to find work and could not pay the entrance fee to the guard at the House of Study, he purportedly climbed up to the roof of the House of Study so that he could at least listen from up there to the lessons he couldn’t afford to attend.  And once when he was up there it started to snow and he suffered terribly from the cold.  Luckily for Hillel, the other students saw him up there and saved him.  They brought him down and revived him by the fire.  It is said that because of Hillel’s merit, they eventually abolished the entrance fee so that all people, rich and poor could come and learn.  

As Hillel grew older, his prominence grew too.  He was known to debate with another student of great repute.  His name was Shamai.  In the Talmud we can find hundreds of disputes recorded between these two.  But Jewish law today almost exclusively follows Hillel’s opinions…not Shammai’s.  And the reason is pretty clearly expressed.  Hillel was known to be patient and kind.  In each story or anecdote that describes him, he is gentle.  Hillel also expressed a more liberal and inclusive approach to the law.  Shammai on the other hand was strict and narrow in the way he thought and interpreted.  And when we see his personality come through in these stories…he was pretty mean.  

When we parallel these stories with what we know of that historical period…we start to see a clearer picture of Hillel and why his “when” was now.  

It would seem that Hillel was a poor immigrant, working just to scrape by so he could feed his family and so that he could study the sacred teachings to learn and teach to live in such a way that might hasten the perfection of the world.   He lived in a world that was war torn and fatigued. A world where there was a great ideological division between people…a world with great economic division between people.  A cynical world.  

We do not know enough about him to know if he was someone who was driven by acts of loving kindness…did he spend his life trying to better the existence of others?…or was he one who simply waxed philosophical in the house of study?  We can’t know, but his philosophy has endured to this day.  “If not now, when?”  These words have been considered by every great commentator through the ages.  Each sought to understand what was intended by the Great Sage.

Moses Maimonides who lived almost 900 years ago understood that the urgency of now is because the longer we wait; our actions will be less likely to help anyone.  And not only that according to Maimonides, the longer we wait, the less likely we will actually be stirred to action.  He wrote in explanation of Hillel’s thoughts, "If I do not acquire these traits now in the days of my youth, when will I acquire them? Not in the days of old age when one’s traits have hardened and settled."  He was speaking of age…that often the young are more likely to speak out.  We are seeing this all over our country right now with regard to our national plague of gun violence.  As it is said in the Book of Joel, “The old shall dream dreams and the youth shall see visions.”  

Most of us in this room are not the kind of young that Maimonides spoke of.  We have passed that impressionable part of life.  But we are here, either because we have been here since we were young, or because in more recent experiences, we have broken our molds.  We simply couldn’t wait any longer.  We are here united by our passion to make Minnesota better.  We are here to make our world better through Interfaith Advocacy for Social Action.  

We’d like to think that in the 2000 years since Hillel lived, humanity has grown and evolved and our world has gotten better.  And no doubt, we have, and it has.  The general condition for great numbers of the citizens of the world has gotten better.  At the same time we can all imagine being Hillel…demanding that things need to be better.  But there is so much more to do. Demanding that those who are in a position of power and control act with that power and control to make the world better.  And that is one of the reasons we come together today…to make that demand.  

And what brings us together is our faith and values.  We come here with a unique moral authority.  To some, that claim may seem lofty…it may sound arrogant.  But we here in this room are bound together with a moral clarity which truly is moral authority.

Each of us experiences our faith in a personal and unique way.  My tradition guides me in the flow of life as I live it and experience it with others.  Judaism gives me guidance to navigate difficult times…losses…and it also helps me celebrate the high times.  There is literally nothing one experiences from the time they are born until they close their eyes for the final time that Judaism doesn’t have something to say about it.  The Torah, the Five Books of Moses contains 613 commandments.  And when you consider the layers of laws that the rabbis have added over hundreds of generations in building a protective fence around the law, there are literally thousands of rules.  But they aren’t there to make life more difficult. In fact the opposite is true.  Our tradition is rooted in making life meaningful.  Its intention is to impart a blessed existence…an existence that is achieved through following the rules and customs.  

And I know that the same is true for every religious tradition represented in this room today.  Our sacred traditions provide us with the wisdom, collective experience, and self-discipline to balance our personal needs with larger societal ones. When we come together like this, our traditions guide our personal behaviors in the direction of just progress. We hold in our hands the great tools of justice that have been handed down to us through the generations of humanity…the tools we need to make that just progress.  

And as we emanate forth from those whose shoulders we stand on, through those generations who persisted before us, through our texts, through our customs, and rituals, and through our cherished music and symbols, we are each called upon to take all of this which informs who I am…who each of you are…to take it and turn it into action.

The Hebrew Bible is pretty explicit about this action.  Religion isn’t just about benefitting the practitioner.  Religion creates a whole framework for making the world once again like the Garden of Eden.  Isn’t that what we all want?  To have a taste of that paradise…a paradise defined by having everyone’s human needs being met.

These ideas of living this way…they aren’t suggestions.  These are commandments.  I only speak for Judaism, but I imagine no one here has a sense that their tradition is just saying, “hey it would be nice if you…or why don’t you do that thing if you get around to it…”  We are commanded to live in this way.   

There are dozens of examples, but in the book of Proverbs we are commanded to not just give to the poor among us...we have to do more.  It says,  

פְּתַח־פִּ֥יךָ שְׁפָט־צֶ֑דֶק וְ֝דִ֗ין עָנִ֥י וְאֶבְיֽוֹן:

Which literally translates as “Open your mouths! Judge justly, champion the poor and the needy.”   We are called upon to advocate for those who can’t do so for themselves.  And that word tzedek…it is the same word in Hebrew as tzedakah which refers to our religious obligation to help fellow human beings in need.

Many translate tzedakah as charity, but that isn’t a complete translation.  The English word charity comes from the Latin word caritas which means benevolence, good will, and help that is extended to the poor and needy. Charity suggests the image of a person who is on a higher rung of the economic ladder giving to one who is on a lower one.  The idea of tzedakah commands us to treat others as if we all are standing on the same rung…to see each other as people and to provide for what others themselves cannot.  It is an expression of responsibility, of righteousness, and of justice.  It is a moral imperative.

The part of the Book of Leviticus we refer to as the, “Holiness Code,” chapter 19 prescribes: “You shall not render an unfair decision: do not favor the poor or show deference to the rich; judge your kinsman fairly.” The poor and rich are treated the same.  They are equal. Circumstances can change so easily and quickly.  One who has little can quickly gain fame and fortune.  And just as quickly, we can be lowered to sickness, poverty, and oblivion.  We are all the same.  We all deserve the same.

That same chapter, Leviticus 19 commands us to leave the corners of our fields un-harvested and not to pick our vineyards clean…we must leave the gleanings of our harvest to the poor (Leviticus 19:9). Later during Talmudic times, much of the tzedakah system was handled though communal funding and community-run programs that provided to the poor, the hungry, the ill, and the children.  

Each of our traditions has something to say about how we might take care of the more than 500,000 Minnesotans who live below the Federal Poverty line.  What the JRLC Poverty Progress Report that was just released and that we will for sure hear about this morning…what it teaches us is that regardless of how you understand your obligation to the poor…we have a lot more work to do.  Every single person has work to do.  It just isn’t acceptable that 161,000 children in our state live below that line. 

If not now, when?

Hillel the Elder was known for other important statements as well.  He once said, 

אַל תִּפְרֹשׁ מִן הַצִּבּוּר

Do not separate yourself from the community.

We each are part of many communities…we move through groups in different parts of our day and routine…our work community, neighborhood community, synagogue, church, mosque, temple.  Some intersect…many do not.  But we all live here together in this State of Minnesota.  And this is our community.  There are people who live in every part of Minnesota who need to be advocated for.  We cannot separate ourselves from them.  

In the portion of the Torah, the Five Books of Moses, which we just read this last Sabbath, the Israelites complete the building of the ancient Tabernacle…the desert sanctuary.  Sometimes it was called The Tent of Meeting.  Right as they complete the work, is says that the Kavod Adonai, the presence of God descended and filled the tent.  The Israelites, united under a common purpose of raising up their renewed relationship with God…they existed in the desert together in such a way as to bring God’s presence to rest in their midst…that tent filled with that holiness at the center of their camp was like a beating heart.

3000 years later, Martin Buber, one of the great Jewish philosophers of the last century, would suggest something similar in how we experience that Divine Presence.  I can’t do his theory justice in just a few sentences, but he essentially suggested that how we exist in the world either repels God’s presence, or strengthens it.  It is only through relating in mutuality…in recognizing that my needs and your needs need to be met that we strengthen God’s presence among us.  What Buber called I – IT, verses I-Thou is the difference between our bringing holiness into the world, or pushing it away.    

We have gathered here today to do what all of our sacred scriptures have commanded us to do.  To do, as Martin Buber described, relate to others with mutuality and strengthen the presence of the Divine here in Minnesota.  We are here to stand on Hillel’s shoulders and to act now.  And it is my prayer that each of us will go forth from here and speak authentically and convincingly and respectfully with our legislators.  And it is my sincere prayer that they will listen and they will use their station in life to help make a real difference.  But my prayer continues…because “when” doesn’t end “now.”  “When continues.”  We are not commanded to live in this way only on certain days.  We are commanded to live this way every day.  So as this day fades into a new one.  May we each be inspired to search out opportunities to truly make our State a little bit more like the Garden of Eden with each passing day.

Thank you for taking time today to join me on this sacred journey.