Justice and Righteousness - Kol Nidre 5778

The following sermon was given by Rabbi Steve I. Rein for Kol Nidre 5778
You can email Rabbi Rein at srein@agudasachim-va.org.

JUSTICE AND RIGHTEOUSNESS: WATCHWORDS FOR OUR DAY

In retrospect, he was probably right when he made the case for justice and righteousness, declaring that too much emphasis was being placed upon prosperity and peace. “This country of ours is heaving loose from its moorings,” he said. “We’re prosperity mad. I believe in prosperity, but prosperity should be the servant of righteousness, not its master. We’re kneeling down and worshipping prosperity. We’re talking and preaching peace – excellent. But our watchword should be justice, righteousness and peace, and if one of them must be given up for the others it should be peace. We want peace, but never at the expense of our self-respect, our ideals as Americans. There is an unsound rush for legislation to control every kind of misconduct, everything that goes wrong. You cannot legislate character into a [person]. You should never attempt to legislate against a state of mind. Instead we must build up the character and the stamina of the individual. We want citizens who do right when no one is looking, not those who do right only under the compulsion of the law” (NYT 26Jan27). These words, spoken 90 years ago, were the words of Colonel Theodore Roosevelt, the eldest son of our 26th President.

This vision of justice and righteousness did not begin with Roosevelt nor is the renewed interest in social justice a creation of modern liberalism. Rather these watchwords have been the core of who we are as Jews and who we aspire to be. On this, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar, our tradition demands proper alignment between a day of prayer and fasting and the ethical behavior that Jews are supposed to manifest throughout the year. In the prophetic words of Isaiah, read in the haftarah tomorrow morning: “This is the fast I desire: unlocking the chains of wickedness, loosening of exploitation, freeing of the oppressed, breaking the yoke of servitude. It is sharing of your bread with those who starve, bringing the wretched poor into your house, clothing someone you see who is naked, and not hiding from your fellow human being in their time of need” (Isaiah 58:6-7). If Teddy Jr. were alive today, if Isaiah were alive today, I suspect they would both be disappointed – not only have we not lived up to their vision but many no longer understand what their vision even is.
Just moments ago, in our private meditations, we recited: “vayigba Adonai tz’vaot ba’mishpat, v’ha-el hakadosh nikdash bi-tzedaka – God will be exalted through justice, the holy God sanctified through righteousness” (Liturgy). Justice and righteousness, at their core, are categories that generate a responsibility to other people. They obligates us. Yet, as a society we don’t want to talk about it. No matter the subject: race relations, economic disparity, refugees, disability awareness, gender equality, access to education, LGBT rights. These are issues that every liberal society has to question and struggle with. These issues are not only important for us as a nation they are important to us as Jews. On this Yom Kippur we must elevate once again the watchwords of the hour – tzedek u’mishpat – recommitting ourselves to pursuing justice and righteousness in the New Year ahead.

I would like to suggest that justice and righteousness is comprised of seven principles that together form a framework for making this value central to our lives. We begin with the definition of what it means to be a Jew found in Genesis 18. When God sets out to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah God says, “shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do…for I have singled him out, that he may instruct his children and his posterity to keep the way of the Lord by doing what is just and right” (Gen 18:17-19). From the beginning, we are chosen because we are a people that walk on the path of justice and righteousness. If you stray from this path you are walking outside of the Jewish conversation. We can’t say that about a lot of things. Can you have a Jewish conversation without God? Yes. Without kashrut? Yes. Without justice and righteousness? Probably not. Genesis 18 doesn’t say: “I have singled him out because he is going to walk in the way of the Lord by keeping kosher.” It’s explicit. This is a critical moment in our foundational narrative. God turns to the Jewish people and says “Ladies and Gentleman, I have chosen you because you will do what is just and right.” This is not only who we are, this is what God is. As the hazzan chants every week during kabbalat shabbat: tzedek u’mishpat machon kiso – righteousness and justice are the base of God’s throne (Psalm 97:2). God sits on righteousness and justice. You want to enter into this covenant? You want to be part of the Jewish people? You don’t enter it unless you walk on the path of justice and righteousness.

One of the problems in the Jewish tradition is we talk so much about having 613 commandments. Who can name more than 50? That’s why the convert comes to Hillel and says convert me while I stand on one foot. There’s too much stuff here. Ok, you’re going to keep me busy for the rest of my life. But could you just tell me, what is this! What is this thing called Judaism? It can’t be that to be Jewish is to be busy. Isn’t there more than that? Hence Hillel responds by saying “what is hateful to you do not do unto another…that’s the whole Torah.” While Hillel doesn’t use the term justice and righteousness, his words reflect it. The first principle of justice and righteousness in the Jewish tradition is to understand that this is not one value among many; it is the foundation of God’s throne. And it is the foundation of being part of this covenant.

Principle number two. What is justice and righteousness? How do you do justice and righteousness? Let’s go back to Genesis. Why does God turn to Abraham and tell him what God is about to do? Because God knows that Abraham is someone who cares. The core of this conversation is the antithesis to Cain. God says to Cain, “where is your brother?” What’s Cain’s answer? “Am I my brother’s keeper?” A Jewish response to justice and righteousness starts by saying: Ab-so-lute-ly! Abraham could have said to God: “Ok, have a good time. Knock yourself out. You do floods sometimes. I’m not getting involved. You’re God after all…who am I?” Instead, Abraham stands up and says hineni – here I am – I’m invested in what happens in this world.

This notion is further explained when the Torah outlines the laws of lost animals. “If you see your fellow’s ox or sheep gone astray, do not ignore it” (Deut 22:1). Don’t say, “ach, something is walking in the street; frankly, I’m busy.” Who’s not busy? Do you know how many things I would rather be doing right now? You want me to take care of a donkey? Ach, I didn’t really see it. What should you do? The Torah tells us: “You must take it back to your fellow…and so too shall you do with anything that your fellow loses and you find: you must not remain indifferent” (Deut 22:1-3). When your brother or sister is in need, your first responsibility is to be someone who sees their pain.
It’s very natural to say, “I didn’t do it…it’s not my fault…they didn’t invest their money well…they didn’t work hard enough…” As a result, our sages teach us that we must build our cities and our society in such a way that indifference is impossible. Our homes are not places to seek refuge from the needs of others. On the contrary. Justice and righteousness has to be part of our architecture so that we can see the plight of the indigent in our midst. If those in need are crying, “I need help,” and you can’t hear, you have not created a Jewish home. You want God to dwell in your home? Build a home that allows you to see and hear the suffering of others. Remember, God’s throne sits on justice and righteousness. We cannot allow our physical space, our theological space, or our political and economic arguments to allow us to be indifferent. This is the second principle of justice and righteousness: you shall not remain indifferent to the world in which you live.

Principle number three. One of the most important passages from the Jerusalem Talmud – a passage that I try to teach at least several times a year – tells the story of Shimon ben Shetah. One day he was busy at work preparing flax. His students said to him, “Rabbi, stop. We will buy you a donkey, and you won’t have to work so hard.” They went and bought a donkey from a heathen, and discovered a precious stone around its neck. They reported the news to their beloved teacher, reveling in the good fortune that he would never have to labor again. Shimon ben Shetah then said to them, “Is the owner aware that one of his precious stones was connected to the donkey?” The students answer that he was not. “Then go and return it,” he instructs them. “But,” they argued, “there is no legal obligation to return an idolater’s lost property.” Shimon ben Shetah replied: “What do you think I am…a barbarian? (JT Baba Metzia 2:5). For Shimon ben Shetah, to walk in the path of righteousness and justice means treating Jew and non-Jew alike. Remember, who does Abraham stand up to save? The non-Jewish city of Sodom. The first act of justice and righteousness in the Torah was simply an act towards other human beings. If someone is in need, it doesn’t matter who they are. This is our third principle. Our understanding of justice and righteousness applies equally to all humanity.

The fourth principle comes from the famous conversation that Abraham had with God. “Abraham came forward and said, ‘What if there should be fifty innocent within the city…Far be it from You…to bring death upon the innocent as well as the guilty…Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?’” (Gen 18:23-25). This is an incredible moment. Abraham turns to God and expects God to live up to the same standard of justice and righteousness that Abraham already knows. We learn from Abraham that the essence of justice and righteousness is turning to people and saying: access your core moral intuition as human beings qua human beings. You know what it is. It is a universal moral category that transcends God and Torah. Judaism doesn’t come to teach us ethics, it comes to give us the structure to live an ethical life and a calendar that challenges us to remember. Justice and righteousness does not grow from within a tradition, they are derived from our moral conscience. You have it in you! That’s the fourth principle of justice and righteousness.

Principle number five. Another Talmudic passage that I love to teach tells the story of two individuals traveling on a journey far from civilization. One of them has a pitcher of water and one does not. If they both drink, they will both die. If one drinks, that one will be able to reach civilization and live. What do you do? One rabbi said: it’s better that both should drink and die. Perhaps justice and righteousness requires that you not give primacy to yourself or take away from someone that which is theirs. The gravity of justice and righteousness makes this plausible. For a moment. Then the great sage Rabbi Akiva says: your life takes precedence over your fellow’s life (BT Bava Metzia 62a). Justice and righteousness are not only moral obligations that you have towards someone else; they are also moral obligations that you have toward yourself. If you own the jug of water, drink it. Your life takes precedence. There is, however, a caveat. Our tradition also teaches that if someone says, “kill so-and-so or I’ll kill you,” you must allow yourself to be killed. After all, who said your blood is redder? In other words, if you believe that your life takes precedent because your life has more value…think again. There is nothing wrong with creating an order for justice based on relative closeness – ourselves, our family, our community, our nation – but the moment that order is based on relative worth and importance, justice ceases to exist. The fifth principle of a Jewish conversation on justice and righteousness is learning how to prioritize. Our challenge is balancing our actions in a way that correctly prioritizes those closest to us without assigning values to the lives of others.

Principle number six. Our tradition teaches: whoever arbitrates a case is a sinner, whoever praises the arbitrator curses God. Rather, the law should pierce the mountain. Whatever justice requires, whatever the law requires, that is what you must give to the other person. Don’t try to compromise. You can’t compromise over justice. But then one of our sages says: No, it is a religious duty to arbitrate and compromise, as the prophet Zechariah said: “execute the judgement of truth and peace in your gates” (Tosefta Sanhedrin 1). Elsewhere our sages teach: if two people find a garment while walking in the street and one says, “I saw it first,” and the other says, “No! I saw it first!” What does justice require? One person is lying. One person did in fact see it first. What do you do? Divide it. Without compromise they would still be holding on to the garment, shouting at each other. We see this all the time in our world. Often we think to ourselves, “really??” That’s what you are still fighting about? Justice is very often a motivator for moral responsibility but at times creates a world in which human beings cannot live, and certainly not with each other. When you have one value that is not mediated by others, that value, instead of being a force for decency, can be a force for destruction. We want and need a balance. We need justice, but we need justice sprinkled with righteousness. They must complement each other. Don’t sacrifice justice on the altar of justice. That is the sixth principle.

The seventh and final principle is found back in Genesis. After Abraham challenges God, God responds: “If I find within the city of Sodom fifty innocent ones, I will forgive the whole place for their sake” (Gen 18:26). The chapter could have ended here. Done. Abraham had chutzpah. He spoke to God. He checked it out. “Ok, thanks for sharing. Have a great day God.” But then Abraham does something remarkable. He doesn’t stop. “Abraham spoke up, saying, “What if the fifty innocent should lack five? Will You destroy the whole city for want of five?”

And God answered, “I will not destroy if I find forty-five there.” But Abraham responds: “What about 40, 30, 20, 10.”

Abraham is not content with God’s first offer. He doesn’t say: I tried, it’s their fault. Likewise, our requirement to justice and righteousness is not fulfilled with one attempt. If justice and righteousness defines what it means to be a Jew, then we must constantly search for ways to implement our values. If it’s the foundation of our covenant, we cannot say “I tried, I did my share.” Rather, every day we have to wake up and ask “is there something that I can do? Is there something that I didn’t do? Is there something that I could try again?” If justice and righteousness doesn’t challenge you to elevate your way of living, if it doesn’t cause you to look at yourself and question whether you are doing enough, if there is anyone who believes that you are beyond criticism, perhaps you need to rethink your values.
For 2000 years the Jewish people said next year in Jerusalem. We didn’t let the world break our spirit. We didn’t give up on our values and aspirations. Not one of us would be here today if our ancestors gave up. If our grandparents who came out of Auschwitz said: “this world stinks, I’m out of here.” Not one of us would be here. Not one of us would be here if the founders of this country said: “ach, it’s a little too difficult. I’m done, it’s not worth it.” History doesn’t change us. We change history. That’s who we are. We are a stiff necked people who aggravated God to no end. But we are also a people who aggravate the world and ourselves. Once something enters into our value system, we do not let it go.

Our challenge today is to bring back the consciousness of unfulfilled values. There is no simple answer on how to create a just and fair society. What are we supposed to do about economic disparity, healthcare, gun violence, immigration, refugees, race relations, unemployment, national security. I don’t know. I don’t have a clue. But can we find ways to keep our values on the table even if we don’t know how to implement them? The Jewish story is not a story about results. It’s about the values that we aspire towards. This seventh principle of justice and righteousness, one that makes it all possible, is that we don’t give up.

If you read the newspaper, you have probably noticed that there isn’t a lot of justice and righteousness going around. There are a lot of flaws – both in our nation and around the globe. But who said we always live up to our values. Who here is so spectacular in living up to the ideals of justice and righteousness? Who thinks they can afford to skip the rest of Yom Kippur? If you think you can, you are free to leave now. We’ll refund your High Holiday tickets. The great challenge of human kind is not ‘knowing the good,’ it’s ‘doing the good.’ We really know. It’s just hard to do it. We are underachieving all the time. I am not describing the world in which we live. I am describing the world in which we aspire to live. I know we are not there yet. But in our tradition aspiration and learning leads to action.

Every moment of our lives we are challenged by moral responsibility. We are called upon to extend the boundaries of righteousness and justice. Most people choose to look the other way. The slave needs us to stop the hand of the taskmaster. The poor person needs us to find him or her a job. The stranger needs us as an ally to overcome the outcast status to which she or he has been consigned. The weak and oppressed need prophetic voices to speak truth to power. We assume, or hope, that someone else will intercede so as to absolve us of responsibility. But Judaism says that we cannot look the other way. As our sages teach: “In a place where there is no one of moral courage, strive to be courageous.” Judaism calls upon Jews to stand up for what is right and to act with moral courage in a world that desperately needs it.

If Yom Kippur serves as a reminder of who we are supposed to be, let’s grab onto the mantle and fulfill our destiny. We can all heed Isaiah’s aspirational calling by joining the efforts of our Social Action committee. You can find dates and programs in your greeting booklet and on our website. This coming year will focus on Safe Spaces – addressing many of the most vexing issues of the day. Get involved and make a difference. Build connections! Feed the Hungry! Help the less fortunate! Take Action! Better yet, commit on this Yom Kippur to living a life guided by justice and righteousness. Follow these seven principles: 1) justice and righteousness is the foundation of Jewish identity; 2) do not be indifferent; 3) extend justice and righteousness equally to all humanity; 4) the source of justice and righteousness is within you; 5) learn how to prioritize justly; 6) compromise – don’t sacrifice justice on the altar of justice; and 7) never give up – keep on trying.
I know – we all know – that after the High Holidays, we will have our work cut out for us. We have to go out into the world and make a difference. And we are going to do the best we can. To walk in the way of God is not merely to do justice and righteousness. To walk in the way of God is to hold it, to have it there all the time, and to know that the more we have it and the more we hold it the closer we come to fulfilling our Jewish identity.

One hundred and seventeen years ago, a different Roosevelt raised his voice on the international stage. Speaking on the occasion of receiving the Nobel Peace Prize, President Theodore Roosevelt said: “We must ever bear in mind that the great end in view is righteousness, justice as between man and man, nation and nation, the chance to lead our lives on a somewhat higher level, with a broader spirit of brotherly goodwill one for another. Peace is generally good in itself, but it is never the highest good unless it comes as the handmaid of righteousness” (Nobel Lecture, 1910). “Vayigba Adonai tz’vaot ba’mishpat, v’ha-el hakadosh nikdash bi-tzedaka – God will be exalted through justice, the holy God sanctified through righteousness.” Tzedek u’mishpat – justice and righteousness – the watchwords of our day. It is
not merely a value among others; it is the value upon which the basis of our covenant was established. May we forever aspire towards acts of justice and righteousness, as individuals, as a people, and as part of humanity.