Bringing a Light to Our Nation

Light. It’s all about light at this time of year in the northern hemisphere. Our hours of daylight are fewer and fewer. We can well understand why our ancient ancestors might have been terrified that the light would never return and devised rituals to appease the angry gods. I grew up halfway between the Equator and the North Pole (the 45-degree north latitude line cuts right through my home town), where we had as little as 8 ½ hours of daylight in a 24-hour period at this time of year.

It is no surprise that the holidays of our western religions involve a lot of light. Christmas trees and Christian homes were formerly decorated with candles, although these have largely been replaced by electric lights in today’s world. The special Chanukah candelabra, the chanukiah, displays its lights proudly in the window as they are kindled each night. This year, that holiday begins on Thursday night.

I start with the thought that the chanukiah is supposed to be visible to all who pass by the house, standing prominently in a window facing the front. This calls to my mind Isaiah’s words (42:6):

וְאֶתֶּנְךָ֛ לִבְרִ֥ית עָ֖ם לְא֥וֹר גּוֹיִֽם

I appointed you a covenanted people, a light to the nations.

The Jewish people were tasked with bringing light to the world, which historically was associated with ethical monotheism: A strong moral and ethical code in a communal framework centered on the worship of one God.

I have been doing a tremendous amount of reading and taking far too many courses these past few months, with little else available to do during this interminable pandemic. Book after book and course after course is expounding on the same theme: Jewish values are something that we need to bring to the larger world in order to start a healing process, restore civility, remind us that we are all citizens of the same country (whichever country it might be), even if we happen to vote differently or hold different beliefs from one another.

In the United States, there is particular emphasis given to individualism. “This is a free country,” you hear people say, “and so I can do as I choose as long as it doesn’t infringe on the rights of anybody else.” My liberty, my rights, my entitlements, the protections that enable me to live according to my own choices, are all paramount in the American consciousness.

Judaism emphasizes something very different. The entire religion is predicated on community. Until the Enlightenment, people thought of themselves as Jewish by nationality, with Judaism being the shared faith of the Jewish people. The focus was on the community. The Enlightenment, including the Emancipation of the Jewish population, changed this, so that people would now become citizens of France or Germany and would be considered Jewish merely as their religion, but the emphasis on the community has never vanished and is particular pronounced in movements such as Reconstructing Judaism, which puts the Jewish people front and center and views the religion itself as a faith they share; but the peoplehood is what matters most.

Consider the difference in these two perspectives:

· I have personal liberty and can assert my rights under the laws of our land;

· I have obligations to my community, responsibilities that come along with living together with others in this country.

The second outlook is not necessarily shared by all of our fellow citizens. Think about wearing a mask when you go out in public, for instance. Many people push back and insist that it’s a free country and nobody can force them to wear a mask if they find it uncomfortable. The function of a mask is to protect YOU against ME, so it is an ultimate gesture of shared responsibility for me to wear one. But people who feel that their personal freedom is being eroded are often opposed even to mandatory wearing of motorcycle helmets or seatbelts, which are purely for MY protection.

In a climate where what matters most is what I’m entitled to as a citizen of this country, it becomes easier to start becoming suspicious of the other. That group of people is threatening to change the whole foundation of the country I grew up in, right underneath me. They hold dangerously evil opinions and vote for people who will tear up our system and replace it with something I can’t tolerate. They are not just different from me – they are lesser, evil. And note that either side could use all of this rhetoric against the other! I was very careful not to specify anything that would pin it to one specific faction.

We can bring a beacon of light to such a world. And PLEASE, do not think for a minute that I believe that a sense of community responsibility is limited to Jewish people! Nearly everybody I know is caring, compassionate, would do anything for anybody in need, and is personally sincere in their interactions with others.

When I broke my arm, friends brought me prepared meals and took turns helping me to wash my hair. When my husband was terminally ill, neighbors would shovel their sidewalks and driveways and then come over and do ours. People invited me to go out to eat with them, go to movies, etc, when my first marriage was breaking up, so that I wouldn’t feel alone. Friends now call all the time just to check in and invite me to join them on distanced walks. If you have any need at all, people will come through in the most heartwarming ways.

But now I’m speaking as a rabbi, to my fellow Jews, using the platform that I happen to have. I believe that we bring the light to the world by modeling what John F. Kennedy said 60 years ago and is still so true: “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.” How do we pitch in and help others in need? And oh, there is such dire need in these dark days of the pandemic.

I firmly believe that the most effective movements start with ordinary people, at the grass roots level, and not with our elected officials. Neighbors helping neighbors, working together in their communities, eventually spreading these actions in a broader and broader way as more people gather together to turn things around. The pendulum has swung too far in one direction, and it’s time for us to give it a little push in the direction of kindness and mutual respect. As we light our lights in our homes to bring a little cheer to these dark days, no matter which holiday we are about to observe, let us remember to shine some of that light outward into our community.