11.5 C
New York
Sunday, November 24, 2024

You hate the one you do not know: Rabbi Robert Nosanchuk

You hate the one you do not know: Rabbi Robert Nosanchuk

Guest columnist Robert Nosanchuk is inaugural senior rabbi and the Will & Jan Sukenik Chair in Rabbinics at Congregation Mishkan Or, a dynamic new Reform Jewish synagogue in Beachwood. For more information, see http://mishkanor.org.

Whatever I know little about, I fill in the details with suspicion. It’s human. But it abrogates my Jewish faith that calls on me to be humane and not just human.

Still, fear of the “other” seems to be winning. Millions have stood behind authoritarian leaders admiring their abuses of power and flagrant animus against the stranger.

It’s a hard battle to fight. As a rabbi, I’m strengthened by the 36 times in Torah we’re taught to address strangers with decency. This happens not just by restraining from oppression against the defenseless. Rather, scripture demands that we approach the stranger with love!

My synagogue, Congregation Mishkan Or in Beachwood, was formed this year by two predecessor communities, who each had separately manifested love for the stranger for decades after their founding in the early and mid-19th century.

Our original temples — Tifereth Israel and Anshe Chesed — were founded generations before the fascism of Hitler constructed and carried out plans for actual genocide upon Jews and all “undesirables” of Europe.

Over 100 years ago, our communities’ most iconic rabbis, Abba Hillel Silver and Barnett Brickner, recognized that Jews would need to fulfill dreams of their own state in Zion to achieve self-determination and peace.

There, we could strive for peace and righteousness. There, in Israel, we could defend ourselves from harm that has long made us the world’s most-targeted strangers, tethered to deeply rooted suspicion.

Growing up in Judaism, my own rabbi taught me twin lessons regarding the faith needed to avoid living in a long-lamented state rather than as active examples of rodfei-tzedek — pursuers of justice and righteousness.

The first lesson was that the bounty of our harvest in Zion was always meant to be shared with vulnerable populations. This continues to make it imperative to pursue peace – even with partners who frighten us.

The second lesson is that Judaism demands action rather than indifference to blood being spilled where we bear witness. This is undergirded by the Jewish belief in the infinite worth of every human being, however counter that ideal runs to surrounding culture.

Let’s face it. In most settings, people offer lame excuses to defend ugly conduct that degrades the stranger. Racial minorities, immigrants, addicts and the formerly incarcerated are too often feared rather than loved!

In my own upbringing, the potency of lies about such populations made a more memorable impact than observable facts. It is just plain easier to ascribe ill intent to someone you barely know than to the curiosity and complexity their heart actually holds.

I hate how relevant this remains in 2024. I know how lack of knowing the “other” exacerbates and has further enmeshed U.S. in war.

As Thanksgiving approaches, I’m reinvigorating my effort to impact our world through increased human contact rather than isolation and disdain.

Are you with me? Join me. Use November 2024 to catalyze your resistance against powers intending to render others vulnerable to impress us. Act on love and knowledge in a world needing both!

Readers are invited to submit Opinion page essays on topics of regional or general interest. Send your 500-word essay for consideration to Ann Norman at [email protected]. Essays must include a brief bio and headshot of the writer. Essays rebutting today’s topics are also welcome.

Source link

Stay Connected

0FansLike
0FollowersFollow
0SubscribersSubscribe

Latest Articles