The Burden of Hatred: a Message about Minneapolis

These past weeks have been heavy on my heart as we have watched news of violence in Minnesota involving federal immigration enforcement agents and members of the community. In that time, two U.S. citizens were shot and killed during the surge of immigration enforcement activity in Minneapolis, and these events have sparked sorrow, outrage, and deep concern across the nation.

My namesake, Aaron the High Priest, teaches us to sanctify with love every human life. Aaron further teaches us “to love peace and pursue it” — especially in moments when violence and fear threaten the cohesion of our communities. Therefore, we must condemn unnecessary force and the loss of life, and join the voices calling for accountability, justice, and peace.

At the same time, I recognize that within our congregation there may be a diversity of views about immigration policy, federal enforcement, and the complex challenges facing our nation. Some may correctly point out that we Jews have benefited historically from open policies towards immigration. They may feel deeply the Torah’s call to welcome the stranger as paramount in today’s American politics. At the same time, I have no doubts that there are members of our congregation who are drawn to teachings such as those which tell us that without government and the rule of law, human nature would lead to anarchy – also a message endorsed by our tradition. These perspectives and others matter in how we engage with each other respectfully and thoughtfully.

They also point to the complexity of this situation. For that, I share a teaching on which all must agree that it applies today. The Torah commands: “If you see the donkey of one who hates you lying under its burden, and would refrain from raising it, you shall surely help him with it.” (Exodus 23:5).

On the surface, this law teaches us to overcome our natural inclination to assist even those we might otherwise avoid. The Talmud goes further, elaborating for us (Bava Metzia 32b): “If one encounters a friend whose animal collapsed and needs its burden unloaded and also encounters one who hates you who needs assistance to load a burden onto his animal, the mitzvah is to assist the one who hates you, in order to subjugate one’s evil inclination. And even if preventing suffering to animals is itself a Torah obligation, helping the one who hates you is considered the higher path because it disciplines our own hearts toward compassion over enmity.”

This teaching invites us to look inward — to examine how we respond to suffering and injustice, not simply that we respond. It challenges us to resist the easy comforts of partisanship and to ask instead: Are we acting out of empathy, humility, and a desire to heal? Are we following the imperative to kovesh et ha-yetzer, to subjugate the easy inclination toward anger, fear, or contempt for those who differ from and disagree with us in favor of mercy and justice?

These are not easy questions, and they do not yield simple answers — but they do guide us toward an ethical stance that values life and dignity for every human being.

As a community — bound by shared values and distinguished by the richness of our many voices — let us mourn lives cut short, pray for the de-escalation of violence, and advocate for policies and practices that reflect both justice and compassion. Let us continue to listen to one another, even where we disagree, and seek paths forward grounded in the deepest values of our tradition.

May we be strengthened to act with courage and wisdom. May we act with love for our fellow human beings, whoever they are, may we love peace, seek peace, and find it.

 

Rabbi Aaron Benson

The Jewish Lesson of Greenland

Jewish version of Greenland's flag.

The stereotype is a rabbi takes something from the weekly Torah portion and somehow applies it to currenet events.  This week, though, I thought I might share a Jewish message we can learn from the news instead.  

Without getting political, Greenland has taken center stage, we can all agree.  What is the Jewish connection to Greenland?  Surely, some enterprising or unlucky, or maybe a bit of both, member of the tribe has links to the world's biggest island?

In fact, I am pleased to say, Jews have been connected to Greenland since at least the 16th or 17th centuries.  Dutch whalers hunted off the coasts of Greenland and there were Dutch Jews who were whalers, so it seems likely there were Dutch Jews who plied their trade around Greenland.

In the early 20th century, a Jewish meterologist who was part of a polar expedition had to have his toes amputated with scissors on account of frostbite.  Seems like they could have been a little better prepared for that possibility.  

During World War II with the establishment of an American military presence on Greenland, the Jewish population increased signficantly and there were at times more than fifty Jews living.  Chaplains who visisted conducted services as the "northernmost minyan in the world."

It was at the same time the first known Jewish resident of Greenland came to live there.  Rita Sheftelowitz was a Danish Jew who had escaped to Sweden during the war.  She became a nurse and lived on Greenland for a couple years in the 1950s before making aliyah and then eventually returning to Denmark in her later years.  

At present, the "permanent" Jewish community of Greenland is just one person, Paul Cohen, a Wisconsin native who works as a translator and with his wife also runs a bed and breakfast.  He was interviewed in several outlets in early 2023 and spoke abou this love and appreciation for the natural beauty of Greenland, the home he has made, and that while not especially religious, how his status as the entire Greenlandic Jewish community himself, he takes great pride in sharing about his culture with locals as well as Jewish tourists who always seem to find him.  

What a wonderful lesson for us.  Paul's story is so much the story of Jews everywhere in the diaspora.  Whether we are one in 57,000 or one of many, whether or not we are so observant or so knowledgable, each of us can be proud ambassadors of Judaism wherever we live.  And also like Paul, we can cultivate gratitude for God's blessings around us, whether natural, communal, or otherwise, and live our lives inspired to share our thankfulness and our Jewish pride with others.  

Moses, Minneapolis, and Facing the Truth

 

I feel like Moses this week.  In Parshat Shemot, at seeing the strange bush on fire but not burning and then hearing and feeling the presence of God, the Torah tells us, “At this, Moses hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God.”

Usually, the endless stream of videos showing violence and unrest of all sorts do not make the impression on me that the multiple angles of the shooting of Renee Nicole Good have had.  It is a brutal reminder that terrible and tragic things can happen in an instant on an average-looking street in the middle of the day, right outside your house. 

But what makes me angry and makes me hope I can be even more like Moses, and that other Americans will join me in emulating him, is the response of so many of our national leaders and officials, who seem unwilling or unable to acknowledge that whether or not the incident proves to be illegal, unjust, or evil, how can we not all agree that the scene is terrible, is horrible and heartbreaking? 

I’m inclined at this point to believe it was an unjust and unwarranted act by the agent.  But I don’t know that for sure.  I support law enforcement, I am a police chaplain even, but never would it occur to me that after seeing that video that there needs to be at least an investigation to know the truth about a chaotic and disturbing-looking interaction between a government agent and a member of the public.  How have we gotten to the point that saying that is controversial?

And while I doubt it will be the case, if it turns out that Good had looked at the agent, declared she was going to kill him by running him over with his car, and that he was in the way, that somehow it turns out that the action was justified, I am saddened to think that those who are outraged now will be unable to accept that truth – that they will be unable to accept that even though doing so needn’t mean their other objections to the actions of Immigration and Customs Enforcement can still be legitimate. 

Moses, after being so afraid that he hides, somehow turns it around.  So much so that he goes on to argue with God about the mission Moses is being given to lead the Jews from slavery to freedom.  He argues, he wants to understand the details, the nuance.  Is he going to have help?  What is God going to do?  What about his own limitations? 

I believe, whether Moses was afraid or not, his arguing, his wanting to know more, his investigation into what the Creator of the Universe tells him to do is precisely why Moses was the right one for the job.

If we Americans, no, if we humans, are going to fight for what is right, even when we are afraid, that we must be informed.  We must be willing to accept the truth.  We have to accept that we won’t always know all the answers.  And most of all, when we or others make mistakes, or even do the wrong thing, we must admit it.  Because if we do not, then our cause, please God it is the right cause, is never, ever, strengthened, not in the long run, by denying it.

It took Moses forty years to complete the plan God gave him.  I’m glad Moses asked a lot of questions about what he had to do.  I hope and pray I will be able to do the same when moral quandaries confront me.  And I pray that all others in our country will do the same.  It is long path to take, but the only one, that leads to the Promised Land.