Erev Tish’a B’Av 5776
I am a lawyer, a public
defender. We have a temple in Washington, D.C. Standing on the steps of the Supreme Court,
one is dwarfed by the towering marble façade. It proclaims: “Equal Justice
Under Law.” It is majestic. I wish it were true. Although this temple still
stands, we know that the promise of equal justice under law, a promise born in
Philadelphia, is unfulfilled.
When we are, as on most days,
at home, we look around our neighborhood, our city, our country, and we see
that we have failed to create a society that lives up to our constitutional
ideals. Our failures to ensure equal justice are staggering. We may not mourn
those ideals in the same way we mourn the destructions of Jerusalem, perhaps
because our communal failures to protect our ideals are not as identifiable as
those moments of destruction, dates marked on the calendar. But the violence,
the loss of life, and the ruptures in sacred human community are no less real;
and for some of us, they are far more immediate.
This summer, for me, those
ruptures feel wider and more urgent than ever: our country’s legacy of slavery
and racial violence; our adoption of mass incarceration as a substitute for
meaningful solutions to homelessness, education funding, unemployment, mental
illness, and substance abuse; and the disproportionate impact on the poor of
chronic disease, inadequate schools, gun violence and environmental
contamination.
I was invited to share
tonight some thoughts about how we might respond to the overwhelming tragedies
and trauma we find all around us, here in our beloved home. I’ve been exploring
this in my own work, because as someone who came to her career before she came
to Judaism, I’ve been able to observe my view shift as I begin to see from a
Jewish perspective. This is an evolving project. Thank you for letting me
attempt to sort it out here.
The Torah teaches us, over
and over, that we shall not wrong a stranger, because we were strangers in
Egypt. We are taught from the outset that God brought us forth from Egypt, from
bondage. This identification of our own story of redemption with the oppression
of strangers among us speaks directly to my work as a public defender. I try to
release people from bondage. It doesn’t even require a metaphor.
The rest of Maria's power teaching is posted here.
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