In our time, right now as we sit in all our comforts, hundreds of
thousands of refugees are on the move.
Mainly from Syria and Iraq, Afghanistan and Eretria. Lands riven by civil war and insurgency. A flow of humanity is on the move. A human tsunami. Through Turkey and across the Aegean Sea to
Greece. Up the Balkan Peninsula. And, from the shores of Libya to Lampedusa
and other islands to Italy. In almost
all cases, their goal is the Heart of Europe.
Especially Germany, whose very welcome refugee policy is a legacy of its
role as occupier and conqueror in the last century.
Tempers are flaring all over. The refugees are themselves unruly. There have been documented cases of them
acting not like a tidal wave but as a mob.
They have destroyed food and water given to them by relief agencies,
because it wasn’t to their liking for one reason or another. The refugees fight one another, they fight
the authorities, and they refuse efforts to encamp them in an orderly
manner. They only want to reach the
countries of Northern Europe. The
countries with the strongest social safety nets. With the most benefits for refugees.
In those countries, including
Germany, Great Britain, and the Scandinavian lands, there is a rising tide of
sentiment against giving the refugees a home.
The numbers of overwhelming, to the point where they threaten to stretch
to the breaking point the very safety net that attracts them. Additionally, the refugees are Muslims. The presence of large numbers of Muslims in
these countries has changed societal dynamics.
And many veteran citizens believe, not for the better. The newcomers are deeply devoted to their
religion, which is seen as an alien force in these historically Christian, and
now almost entirely secular lands. There
have been outbreaks of violence by the Muslims as young people, unable or
unwilling to assimilate, fall prey to opportunistic jihadist factions. The Europeans already feel that they’ve lost
control of their destiny, and now a flooding tide of refugees threatens to
further overwhelm them.
The other night, Clara
and I were watching a television program on ABC, about the refugees in
Europe. It tried to put a good face on
the Germans. It showed how protesting
mobs are putting pressure on the Bundesrat to unseat Chancellor Angela Merkel
of Germany and her Christian Democratic Union, whose hold on the government a
few months ago was quite secure. And the
program also showed how everyday Germans are reaching out to the newcomers with
little acts of kindness.
Since I’ve gone on at considerable
length about the refugees in Europe, you’re probably guessing that I’m about to
make a statement of either solidarity or revulsion. With either the refugees themselves or the
Europeans. If so, I’m afraid that you’re
going to be disappointed if you were looking forward to hearing my stance. Or, relieved if you were dreading my
stance. Because I’m not a political
scientist. I’m a Rabbi. My expertise isn’t in judging the good or bad
in great movements of people. Rather,
it’s in the texts of classical Judaism.
And the lesson they come to teach.
One of those texts is the
Mishnah. Tractate Avot is arguably the
best-known part of the Mishnah.
Actually, it’s arguably one of the best-known classical Jewish texts, period. So in Avot, we find the following good
advice. במקום שאין
אנשים, תשתדל לצאת משם.
Translated loosely, it means: In
a place where there are no human beings, try to get the heck out of Dodge.
Okay, okay! I lied!
Actually, the Mishnah advises: במקום שאין אנשים תשתדל להיות איש. In a place where there are no human
beings, strive to be human. Although
it might not be clear from the Hebrew, ‘human beings’ in this context does not
mean simply units of the species homo sapiens. Rather, it means good people. People who act human: that is, in the way that a good person
acts. The Hebrew ish/person here
is used in the same that, in Yiddish, we use the word mentsch. Strictly speaking, it means a
person. But it has come to mean…a person.
So the Mishnah’s counsel is
clear. Whenever you find yourself in a
place where people are cruel and inhuman, the solution is to try ever harder to
act out of your own humanity. But human
history has taught us that sometimes, when we’re surrounded by inhumanity, we
cannot make a notable difference by working harder to act human. Take Lot, Abraham’s nephew.
In this week’s Torah portion, Vayeira,
we see Abraham arguing with G-d for the people of Sodom and Gemorrah. G-d has told him that he’s going to destroy
the cities, whose wickedness has come to G-d’s attention. Abraham argues, so to speak, with G-d against
destroying the good with the bad.
Abraham manages to get G-d to agree that, if ten righteous men can be
found amongst the inhabitants of the cities, He will spare the cities from
destruction for the sake of those ten.
After concluding this agreement, Abraham walks away, secure in the
belief that he has saved the cities. G-d
goes on to destroy the cities, secure in the knowledge that there are no ten
righteous men.
But there is Lot, Abraham’s
nephew. G-d doesn’t forget Lot. He sends His angels to Sodom to test Lot’s
righteousness against the wickedness of the place. Found to have merit, he is told to get the
heck out of Dodge.
Why do G-d’s angels give Lot the
opposite advice that the Mishnah gives? Because
there are limits to what one righteous man – or woman – can achieve in a place
where wickedness is so prevalent that ten righteous ones cannot be
found. The Mishnah’s counsel assumes
that one person’s attempts to transcend the un-righteousness of the place will
resonate against others. Will inspire them
to act more righteous. But the
behavior of the Sodomites, towards the angels who were clearly not recognizable
as other than normal travelers, proves that Lot could not even begin to make a
difference. Lot had clearly tried. He remained amongst the Sodomites in hopes of
bringing Goodness to the wicked. He was
clearly following the sage advice that was later published in the Mishnah, but
which is a cornerstone principle he would have known. But the angels’ mission was to show him the
futility of his quest. And escort him and
his family to safety.
In this context, we can understand the impetus
of many, to stay put and try to improve things when darkness descends over
their country. Who look out and see that
there are no human beings. Or perhaps,
there are people who are afraid to be human beings. And are waiting to be inspired by the one
person who is willing to stand up to tyranny.
And we can also understand why
others can’t see any alternative to getting the heck out of Dodge. Whose despair over surviving the tyranny that
surrounds them is too overwhelming. Who
pack up their meager belongings and hit the road.
We, the West, did not act to help
the Syrians and others to overcome and push back the darkness that had descended
upon their lands. Perhaps we didn’t
possess the means. Perhaps we didn’t
possess the will. Now, hundreds of
thousands of refugees are on the move. Another
mess in the world. More human
suffering. G-d, give us the wisdom to
react in ways that protect our own world. And which express our highest human
ideals. For the sake of Your world. For the sake off Your Name. Shabbat shalom.
No comments:
Post a Comment