January 9th: Shemot
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
This week’s Torah portion holds perhaps the most frightening words in Jewish history:
“A new king arose over Egypt who knew not Joseph.” (Exodus 1.8)
In an act of conscious “forgetfulness,” the Egyptian leadership denies our constructive involvement in Egyptian society—pushing the Hebrews from “us” to “them.” It is a precursor to oppression and enslavement, and, unfortunately, it has not been the only time we have been “othered” and persecuted.
The line between “us” and “them” is subtle, but it can make all the difference in the world.
For American nurses in World War I, acceptance by the military was conditional and mixed. Women were not allowed in the Army, and, despite significant training, nurses were often denied the designation of medical professionals. Nonetheless, many patriotic women organized in the Red Cross and traveled to Europe, braving the dangers of the war. They also faced continuing discrimination by the Army, administrative disrespect that far too often made their life-saving work more difficult. Nonetheless, they treated many soldiers, saved many soldiers, and returned to America “inferior” still. They considered themselves part of “us” even though the official “we” did not treat them with respect or fairness.
The situation for Blacks was even more troublesome. Take the case of Dorie Miller, a black man from Waco, Texas, who served in the US Navy during World War II. On the battleship USS West Virginia, he was a mess attendant because Blacks were not considered good enough to be sailors. Nonetheless, when his ship was attacked at Pearl Harbor, he left the galley, took the place of a fallen sailor at an anti-aircraft gun, and—despite not being trained in gunnery—shot down several Japanese planes. He also carried several wounded sailors and officers to safety. Awarded the Navy Cross, his nomination for the Medal of Honor was rejected by Navy Secretary Frank Knox—who opposed Black sailors serving in any combat role. Who knows what kind of racial discrimination this hero would have faced when he returned home after the war, but he never made it back. Serving again in the galley—as a Cook Petty Officer, Third Class, he was lost when his ship, the escort carrier Liscome Bay, was sunk during the Battle of Makin in 1943. He was a patriot and a hero, but, for too many Americans, he was not one of “us.”
The same can be said of many groups who contributed to the war effort—among them the “Code-Talking” Navahos and the Nisei (children of Japanese immigrants) who served with distinction and valor. When it came to defending the United States, they felt that they were part of “us,” but too many others did not agree. For a poignant portrayal of this twisted dynamic, take a look at the 1955 film Bad Day at Black Rock. Who is included in “us,” and what does it take to be accepted?”
Such stories of our lack of inclusion and respect are a stain on our collective soul, but all is not bleak. Improvement is possible.
Often, the beginnings of inclusion and equality involve a focus on rights. “They” should be included and granted rights. However, a beautiful change occurs when, rather than thinking about “letting them in,” we begin to recognize the gifts that “they” bring to “us”—when “we” are enhanced by the particular contributions of each of our members. This has certainly happened in the inclusion of women in the Rabbinate. Though the initial discussion was in regard to equality, the fact is that the women have brought in sensibilities and approaches that have improved the Rabbinate and Judaism. The same can be said of Gerim/Converts. While much of the Gerut process involves admitting “them” to Judaism, there have been palpable contributions that the thousands of converts have brought to Judaism over the last fifty years. The seriousness with which they approach Judaism has inspired many, and the expectations of spirituality they bring have added to the spiritual development of our entire movement. When People of Color, or LGBT+ individuals, or disabled people, or any other marginalized groups join formerly closed polities, it is not only a question of “letting them in,” but also of appreciating the gifts they bring. Our belief in equality should not blind us to the cultural and psychological gifts that newcomers offer.
The hope, of course, is that “they” become part of “us,” but they are not objects to be accepted. They are new members who add to our communal blessings.
This has been the story of so many inclusions. Formerly different or unincluded people join organizations or societies and share. Back in the early 1900s, there were discussions about whether the ideal is a “melting pot”—in which everyone becomes part of a new American identity—or a stew or salad—where everyone retains independence while being part of something bigger, but both options involve inclusion and appreciation. The opposite is true when divisive forces seek to slice into our polities and cast out friends, neighbors, and colleagues. “A new king arose over Egypt who knew not Joseph.”
Let us beware such hateful forgetfulness, and let us beware drawing lines that do not have to be drawn. Though our ethnic and religious identities help to form us, we are more than the groups which sent us forth. Community inevitably involves the incorporation of many unique individuals, and our focus should be on the humanity each one manifests in the group.
Let me conclude with two quotations about acceptance and appreciation. First, there is Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s dream “that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” They are not “they.” They are “us.”
And second is President George Washington’s affirmation of the promise of America. Writing to the Hebrew Congregation of Newport, Rhode Island, he was both expansive and inclusive: “For happily the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens, in giving it on all occasions their effectual support….May the father of all mercies scatter light and not darkness in our paths, and make us all in our several vocations useful here, and in his own due time and way everlastingly happy.”
We are not “them.” We are “us.”