Parshat Chukat - Solidarity Shabbat: Reflections on the Tragedy in Charleston

Whether from the pulpit at a church in our area, at the vigil for unity this past Monday in Hackensack, from the pulpit at Emanuel AME in Charleston, and from the families of the victims – we have heard expressions of forgiveness to the alleged shooter Dylan Roof.  We have heard people pray for him and for his family.

I am curious how these sound to Jewish ears.  I personally feel ambivalent about them.  After centuries of blood libels, Crusades, expulsions, massacres, the Holocaust and other violence against Jews whether by physical force or through force of words, the idea that I would forgive someone who murdered my loved one or that I would pray for that person or his family, would be as shocking and inconceivable as forgiving or praying for an SS Commander or a Hamas terrorist.

We can read forgiveness in this case, as in others – like the way Pope John Paul the 2^nd forgave and prayed for the family of Mehmet Ali Agca, as something different from saying, “I absolve you of guilt”.  This is my read on it – I imagine the late Pope would debate me on this.  A wise person once said, “All forgiveness is self-forgiveness.”  This to me is the only acceptable form of forgiveness in such an egregious case.  Jewish tradition teaches us not to bear grudges, not to mistreat our enemy’s property, and not to hate a fellow human being in our hearts.  But ironically, it is Moses himself who bears a grudge against the people for the way God punishes him in this week’s parsha, the way God prohibits him from crossing into the Promised Land.  Moses both blames the nation for his punishment and does not forgive them, later he says, “God got angry with me because of you and said ‘You will also not go there.’”  He says that when at the time of the punishment God clearly places the onus on him, and on Aaron, for their lack of faith!

Moses blames others and holds a grudge.   Forgiving the alleged perpetrator of the Charleston Church shootings does not suggest that the shooter not go through due process of law, rather, that individuals, and the community as a whole, should not be burdened with anger, frustration, and fall into inertia.  The Rabbis teach that anger is avodah zarah, idol worship – in anger we grip our personal agenda and feelings so tight that we are the center of the world, as opposed to God. 

Interim pastor Norvel Goff sees other grim possibilities of what could happen if anger boils in the community – A lot of people expected us to do something strange and to break out in a riot," said Goff "Well, they just don't know us. We are people of faith."

People of faith, like Moses after his punishment, know that lying down and turning the other cheek do not lead to justice, or to greater faith or community building, and they also know that violence does not solve problems, it only creates new ones.  And this is one way the Rabbis make sense of Moses’ punishment, if the people would see Moses and Aaron just speak to the rock, and not hit it, they would say, “This rock that cannot speak nor hear and does not require sustenance can fulfill God’s word, so much the more so can we.”  Hitting the rock is, in this case, a violent act, despite the fact that Moses once struck a rock for water with no adverse reaction.

On this Shabbat of solidarity with our African American brothers and sisters, and brothers and sisters of all religions and colors of the rainbow, we recognize how meaningful but how incredibly difficult it must be for the families of victims to forgive themselves enough to let go of emotions that might prevent them from living meaningful lives even as they mourn the loss of loved ones, loved ones who are gone forever.  And let’s recommit ourselves to the unity, to the solidarity that is the spirit of this, and really every Shabbat – each Shabbat remembers creation, and the Torah teaches that the entire world is a tree of life, a family that grows from common ancestors.  Even in bucolic and generally peaceful Glen Rock and other towns where we live, we can attend services at another house of worship, meet the people, share in their joy and prayers.  As Mark Gewirtz wrote in a recent piece, we can ourselves and with our children and students, talk about our fears, explore what are the invisible walls that separate us from others and begin to break through them.  Pastor Thomas Johnson in his sermon this past Sunday said we should do this, the same way President Reagen said to Premier Mikhael Gorbachev 28 years ago, “Tear down this wall!”

And although we always hope for unity without a crisis, people of faith also know that our tradition and our community helps us to weather a crisis by reminding us we are not alone, providing structure when the world feels like it’s falling apart.  Boston Marathon bomber Dzokar Tzarnaev made an apology in court, and one of the victims, an amputee named Rebekah Gregory said in this spirit, “Your intent was to destroy America.  You have actually unified us.” 

We cannot be satisfied with speaking unity, or singing it, we cannot be comfortable with living near each other, we need to reach out, we need to introduce ourselves, have the courage open up to those around us whom we don’t know yet and along the way practice thoughtful self-forgiveness so that our burdens don’t break our will, our backs, or our faith.

Shabbat Shalom.