I am searching for the right tone, if not the right words to describe this whirlwind of a weekend for us as Jews, for us as Americans, and for us as citizens of the earth.. Perhaps primary for me as a Rabbi and as a Jew is the aftermath of emotion following the event at Congregation Beth Israel in Colleyville. While, to my knowledge, I am just as safe today as I was last Friday night when I lit Shabbat candles, I am once again reminded - though not shattered - that our life’s path can take a turn at any moment, even when we are doing something good.  Their synagogue was secure, they were well trained in active shooter situations, and at the same time they lived their Jewish values. Rabbi Charlie invited a cold soul into this house of Judaism for a cup of tea. He practiced the deeply felt Jewish value, hachnasat orchim, welcoming a guest. We recite this value at the beginning of every Passover Seder, “Let all who are hungry come and eat…” How can our welcoming words hold value if we only welcome in people we know? It can be risky to act on our beliefs. When asked if he would do it again, Rabbi Charlie reiterated the value of welcoming and of tikkun olam. As I light my candles this Shabbat, I will think harder about my own core values and the risks I take, and might consider taking, to defend them. While I may not always be able to practice what I preach, I would hope that fear would not deter me from performing a mitzvah.

Curiously, the events in Texas happened on the weekend that we celebrated the life and courageous acts of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, a man who did lose his life standing up for the core value of equality. While it would be ridiculous to equate my white Jewish American experience to the African American experience, the convergence of these two events have caused me to think. They have not only challenged me to explore the risks I may take to do what I believe to be good, but they have also caused me to ponder the dangers of being “other,” i.e. the ‘other’ religion, the ‘other’ color, the ‘other’ gender, the ‘other’ nationality, any kind of ‘other.’ How easy is it for humans to demonize the ‘other’? In the case of the Texas synagogue, it would have been easy to see a person who did not look like the usual congregants and deny him entry. On the other hand,the alleged hostage-taker saw a group of Jews against whom he railed, ranting at times about “Jewish power.” All Jews to him and to other antisemites were no longer people, but a faceless, powerful enemy. Racism, antisemitism, sexism, in fact all biases, dehumanize people. And once the humanity of a person can be erased, all sorts of heinous acts are possible. The Civil Rights movement spoke to the humanity of all people, no matter their color or religion. For me, it was their resolve against bias and injustice in combination with their faith in humanity, that taught us to sing- and to believe - that “we shall overcome someday. In fact, the words were changed to say “we shall overcome today. It seemed possible at the time.  ”Today, though, I am a little older, a little more cynical, and a little more realistic as I see civil rights moving two steps backward and one step forward.  But Dr. King and others were right.  They gave us conviction, courage and hope. The change didn’t happen in his lifetime and it may not happen in mine, but I have some faith, if we don’t destroy ourselves first, that humanity will rise above it’s prejudices, and we will see each other as humans, not as enemies. The confluence of these two events, MLK weekend and Shabbat in Colleyville bring me back to reality, but don’t make me want to give in. We can’t give up, we can’t sequester ourselves in our secure bubbles avoiding strangers and people with whom we might not agree. But, like Dr. King, and like Rabbi Cytron-Walker, we must act out our values despite the perceived danger with the faith that we all can do better.

Finally this weekend, we celebrated Tu B’Shevat, the holiday of the trees. One way to think about Tu B’Shevat is as an affirmation of life. Not in Maine, but in the Middle East, around the 15th day of the month of Shevat, the sap in the trees begins running and new growth becomes possible. The almond trees blossom. A new cycle of life begins. Spring always comes, Passover always comes. As long as we honor and respect nature the sap will always rise. And this is what gives me the courage to believe that as long as we honor and respect one another, we shall overcome fear, destruction, abuse of power, bias, distrust, etc. someday. There will always be someone or something that will try to destroy the pattern, but we must trust that we can overcome them.

Some of the emotions I experienced this weekend, you may have experienced as well: fear, sadness, concern, vulnerability, anger, powerlessness. Also inspiration and hope. It is not surprising that keeping up with the news and living under the cloud of Covid can make us anxious and focused on the dangerous situations about which we read. My unsolicited advice is to watch the news, but to keep it in perspective; to be angry and active, but not defeated by the injustices in the world; and to believe that the sap will rise, that life will persist; that it is not only as safe as we can make it to come to the synagogue (vaccinated and masked), but it is an act of faith, and defiance, that when we are together, we shall overcome….. someday.