Dvar Torah: Va'era - "Let My People God", Celebrating the Life and Legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Parshat Va’era

5775/2015

In 1963, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC, Martin Luther King, Jr. said

But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

Meet physical force with soul force.

Meet the sword with the pen.

Meet the police baton with courage, the water hoses with silent and impassive presence.

It is just this approach that God takes through Moses when Moses and Aaron confront Pharaoh for the first time.

Martin Luther King and civil rights leaders confronted public officials who did not recognize their authority nor did they wish to make changes in laws pertaining to segregation. 

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and others sought to establish themselves as spokespeople for civil rights in the same way that God seeks to give Moses and Aaron authority in the face of Pharaoh.

Seforno explains that the first sign, changing the stick into a snake, is a wonder that is designed to show the stature of God’s servant Moses, that it would be wise for Pharaoh to listen to him.  This and the other signs and wonders also convinced the Israelites of Moses’ power to represent God.  Pharaoh claims he does not know of the God of Israel, and so he questions not only the servant but also the God who sent him.

While the Egyptian magicians are able to replicate the first two plagues, blood and frogs, they cannot produce the third plague of lice. 

Pharaoh’s heart grows tougher and colder.  He fears the loss of his precious Israelite slaves.

The hearts of the authorities and police in Selma also grew tougher and colder.  50 years ago, March 7, 1965, a day called Bloody Sunday, was the first Selma to Montgomery march, a day the police clubbed and beat the marches, and that evening a white group beat and murdered Minister James Reeb, a clergyman from Boston who had come for the second planned march.

And still they marched on.

And still the segregationists held fast.

We know that in the end the soul force was successful.  It sent a message as strong as the plagues that humble the mighty Egyptian empire.  It sent a message that there can be dignity in conflict, that violence in the end is self-destructive – it turns around and hits the perpetrators back, and it helps convince those on the sidelines of the grace and truth of the message. 

What then do we do in the face of rampant violence in the Middle East, a place where people who do humanitarian work, who use soul force, often end up victims of violence?

We lament that it took the death of 14 to bring people out to the streets in Paris in protests against terrorism, and those who attack the freedom of the press and freedom of expression.

Is it possible to hold onto a forceful deterrent while trying our best to offer peaceful protests, as Theodore Roosevelt said, “Speak softly, but carry a big stick.”?

We need to build strength from within.  Only well trained young people were able to conduct sit ins during the civil rights movement, people who role played what it would be like to have people push and browbeat them. 

We also need to first feel bothered by inequality and injustice.  We need to feel angry at those who take away freedom from others.

Soul force is only successful when we prepare the soul to meet the opposition.  As much as Shabbat is a time of rest, it is also a time to build up reserves of strength, time to consider both the beauty of creation and the places within creation that are painful and broken.  It’s a time to gird ourselves for being agents of justice in the world.

Join us for the annual march in Van Neste Square on Monday, it’s one way to practice, to show that despite the cold, despite the fact that it’s a small group of marchers with a much larger group of onlookers and others who continue with business as usual, that on this one day we stop traffic not for a musical parade and for cheering, but for sending a message that we are ready to take on the challenges to justice that we still face here in this country, 52 years after I have a dream, 50 years after Selma, 50 years after the voting rights act, at a time when relationships between police forces and minority groups are tense, there is still work to do to make Dr. King’s dream a reality.