I
wonder if you’ve ever heard of the city of McAllen, Texas? It’s a city of 133,000 souls. It’s situated at the eastern end of the Rio
Grande Valley. It’s close to where the
eponymous river debauches into the Gulf of Mexico. The River is anything but grand as it
passes to the south of McAllen. But the
Rio Grande, puny is it is, serves as a very significant boundary. Cultural and economic differences between
Mexico and the USA sharply differentiate many important facets of life north
and south of the border.
McAllen has experienced economic boom
times since 1994. In that year a treaty
known as NAFTA, short for North American Free Trade Agreement, went into
effect. It increased cross-border commerce
significantly. It did this by granting
protection from import duty for goods manufactured in Mexico and sold in the
USA. This, primarily because labour
costs in Mexico are significantly lower than in her neighbour to the north.
At the same time that cross-border
commerce has boomed, casual border crossings by US citizens across the border
to shop and dine has trickled into almost nothing. This is because of the co-incident rise of
narco-gangs on the Mexican side, which vie for turf and influence and create a
violent side to everyday life. Ordinary
Mexicans have found their lives often in peril, and visitors from the USA often
get caught in the crossfire. For all
you’ve heard about gun violence in the USA, you should know that Americans
justifiably feel far safer north of the US-Mexican border.
Americans in cities along the Rio Grande
such as McAllen consider the border to be an important and logical part of
their everyday lives, and they thank God that they live on its north side. The border represents the boundary between
relative safety and prosperity on the north, and relative anarchy and poverty
on the south. It is a boundary that is
important. And, at least to residents of
South Texas, it makes good sense.
Now I wonder if you’ve ever heard of the
town of Point Roberts, Washington? It is
a small and quiet town of about 1,300 inhabitants. It’s situated just south of Vancouver,
British Columbia. Being south of the 49th
parallel, it is in the United States in accordance with the Treaty of Paris of
1873. But it is connected by land only
to Canada. To travel to anyplace in the
USA other than by boat, residents must drive north across the border, around
the shore of Boundary Bay, and then re-enter the USA at another crossing. It’s no wonder that very few people live in
Point Roberts. If you look at its
satellite image on Google Earth, you’ll see that the town of Tsawassen Beach,
British Columbia, Point Roberts’ neighbour across the border to the north, is
far more densely populated. And that
makes sense, since Tsawassen Beach residents are not cut off by the
international border, from vital support services.
All that said, my guess is that the
residents of Point Roberts, assuming it were possible, would not vote for
secession from the USA to join with Canada.
Not that there is anything wrong with Canada…it’s a lovely country! But for a number of reasons, most American citizens
would not be interested in changing their citizenship to that of their northern
neighbours. Despite the border’s
inconvenience for the residents of Point Roberts, Washington, it is a boundary
that makes sense.
So
in at least two American municipalities, an international border is a part of
the residents’ everyday realities. In
one case, this boundary is useful and convenient. In the other case, the boundary is useful,
but not convenient. But in both cases,
the residents would likely not be interested in dis-establishing that boundary.
Generally, boundaries make sense even
when they are inconvenient. And I’m not
talking just about physical boundaries here.
I’m talking about the way that we differentiate between things, the way
that we classify them. As we go through
life, we tend to categorise all kinds of things according to various
boundaries. Those boundaries are
sometimes of our own making, and sometimes they are imposed upon us.
An example of the former might be that
we look for certain qualities when we are choosing friends. We might not do it consciously. But we do it.
I challenge you to make a mental list of all the people whom you
consider friends…and not just acquaintances.
Now ask yourselves: is there a
common thread between all these people?
Chances are that most of them look alike in some way. Chances are that they all look like you in some way! And I mean that in the broadest sense
possible: not that they must physically look like you, but that they
likely share some of your important life interests and aspects of your life
situation.
The very idea of classifying people and
things, or establishing and respecting boundaries, has gotten a bad rap in
recent years. There certainly are boundaries
that seem, if not arbitrary, then tyrannous.
For example, the boundary of socio-economic class. Sometimes wealthy people are criticised for tending
to choose their friends, and their spouses, from among those in their own
socio-economic class. In other words, by
limiting their voluntary social contacts to other wealthy people. That’s a preference that most of us feel free
to criticise.
But think about it. Wealthy people have far more discretionary
income than the rest of us. To them, a
good time might involve activities that are beyond my ability to pay for. So if a wealthy person wants to be my friend and enjoy the activities he likes, he
will probably be stuck paying my way as well.
If that’s his choice, and I’m willing to have a relationship that is not
absolutely reciprocal, then that’s fine.
But why should we criticise a wealthy person if he, by and large, ends
up choosing his friends from among others who are also wealthy. If he doesn’t happen to have friends who are
poor? Because it is probably natural for
him to choose other wealthy people for his friends. Look, I’m not advocating that wealthy people stick together and avoid us lower
class riff-raff! I’m just saying that I
have no right to criticise them if they do.
Now the problem with boundaries is when
we use them to assume negative characteristics of someone because they’re on a
particular side of a boundary. For
example, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with automatically classifying people
by skin colour, height, hair texture or some other superficial measure. But to ascribe to them some specific
characteristic because of that superficial classification is not very
fair. Not to the person in question, and
not to yourself either. Let me explain.
If you assume that people with kinky
hair, for example are not very bright, then you are likely to allow the genius
of an Einstein escape you. Einstein had
kinky hair. So if you avoided people
with kinky hair because you think they’re not bright, you may be mid-judging a
kinky haired person and also denying yourself to counsel of a very intelligent
person.
Among the boundaries that are imposed
from without, many originate in our religious traditions. I’ve said before that the Torah is all about boundaries. Between Israel and the nations. Between sacred and profane, or ordinary. Between male and female. Between that which is allowed and sanctioned,
and that which is prohibited. The Torah,
throughout its length, is constantly classifying things, drawing boundaries.
My premise is that we might feel as if
we want to rebel against any particular boundary if it is in some way
inconvenient for us. But even so, if we’re
honest, we can probably see where that boundary makes sense on some level.
Perhaps a good example of the latter is
the taboo against out-marriage. Many of
us at some point in our lives have felt this was an unnecessary restraint. And many of us have transgressed it. It would have limited us in the potential
partners, from whom we could choose. It would
have denied us the companionship of someone we desired or loved. If at the time, someone suggested to us that
the boundary made good sense and wasn’t intended to deny us happiness, we probably
responded by taking offense. But if we
were honest with ourselves then – if we’re honest with ourselves now – we can
see the wisdom of counselling Jews to search for their life partners among
other Jews. It is difficult enough for
two individuals in this day and age to find enough common ground to forge an
enduring partnership. Isn’t it logical
to make it easier by seeking out a partner with whom one shares as much as
possible? Of course, both parties to a marriage being Jews doesn’t guarantee
the success of that marriage. But it
eliminates one thing that, for so many out-married Jews, ends up being a
flashpoint of tension.
This week’s Torah reading draws some
boundaries for us. For example, it tells
us that men shouldn’t wear women’s clothing or vice versa. Many of the senior women in this room have
been told, at some time or another that for them to wear pants of any kind is
tantamount to a transgression of this dictate.
But somehow, I don’t think that pants on women, or skirts on men were
what the Torah had in mind. Presumably,
at the time of the wandering in the wilderness, both sexes wore clothing somewhat
resembling the robes or coverings that Bedouin Arabs wear today. Probably, neither men nor women would have
worn pants as a habit. So to read this
verse as requiring women to wear dresses at all times, is probably
disingenuous.
The traditional commentators actually can’t
agree on how to read this verse. Some
read it as prohibiting men and women from socialising together freely as it
might encourage casual and forbidden sexual liaisons. Some read it as prohibiting transvestism. Others read it as prohibiting women from
using ‘male’ religious articles such as tefillin and tallit. I think that they’re all grasping for some
element of truth but are all somewhat off base.
I think the point of this verse is that
we should be forthright about who we are.
We should not use the way we present ourselves, including the way we look
and dress, to misrepresent who and what we are.
It doesn’t mean that we should consider it prohibited to attend a drag
queen show, for example. When you go to
a drag queen show, the point is that you know
those good-looking women on stage are really men. If you find that entertaining, then please do
not consider it in any way a forbidden fruit.
Go, and enjoy. I’m told that’s a
very common form of entertainment in Thailand.
I’ve sat with people who have attended such shows who felt no constraint
in telling me, a rabbi, in graphic detail about their experience. Now I don’t find the idea of a drag queen
show especially appealing. And I can’t
imagine spending my hard-earned money to attend one…in Thailand or
elsewhere. But it doesn’t bother me that
others find it appealing. I just,
personally, don’t get it. But I don’t
get a lot of things!
If you take the broader view of this
verse as I’ve suggested, then you can see a logic in it. Even for encounters that are not especially
sexual, the sex of the other has a way of colouring the encounter. That’s why people often feel uncomfortable if
they do not correctly identify the sex of the person they’ve encountered. And why they may resent it if they feel the
person has in any way mis-represented him or her-self. We have been generally conditioned to see the
setting of boundaries as, at the very least, an unnecessary evil. But if we’re honest, we have a very basic
need to know the sex of any given person we encounter, no matter how
superficial that encounter.
So
let’s not automatically condemn boundaries.
Or those who create or honour them.
Boundaries are an important tool.
Even when they’re inconvenient.
Even when they might seem tyrannous.
If they do, then perhaps it’s not the boundary itself but what we’re
making it mean. But just to recognise
differences between people or things, and to classify them according to these differences,
is not in and of itself bad.
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