blogs/rabbi-huberman

An incident that occurred about three years ago, while Patte and I were on vacation, continues to haunt me.

I may have shared it with you.

One evening, we decided to take in some local music at an outdoor bar. The evening air was cool, and from the treetops, birds were chirping with the musicians.

It was a relaxed setting, and all seemed normal as two women sat themselves down at our raised bar table.

“What church do you go to?” asked one in a slow Mississippi drawl.

“We don’t go to a church,” I replied adjusting my ball cap. “We attend synagogue.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” the woman replied. And then matters took an unexpected turn.

The second woman sitting opposite us extended her index finger and pointed it about three inches in front of my nose.

“It’s your fault,” she said. “You and your tribe.”

And what ensued was an assault on Jewish people, their alleged control of the media and their corruption of "true American values."

My blood began to boil. Patte poked me as she overheard, and cautioned me from further engaging in a seemingly pointless conversation. “Don’t, don’t, don’t…,” she warned. "You are not going to change her mind—and besides we are on holidays."

But I did—in part.

“That is a racist comment,” I retorted.

But she continued. “You can look it up on the Internet. You and your tribe are responsible for the problems in the country.

“And besides, are you calling me racist because I’m from Mississippi?

But before I could dispel her stereotypes, my wife turned to our server and uttered two very wise and timely words.

“Check please.”

And we left, admittedly a bit unsettled that we had encountered anti-Semitism first hand.

I’ve thought about that brief encounter a few times since then.

We live in a world, where, increasingly, too many claim to occupy the inside track when depicting or defining others.

Pollsters so often paint in broad strokes Jews, African Americans, Hispanic Americans, women, men and so many other measurable demographic groups.

And in so doing, they rob us of our individuality.

About 20 years ago, I played a very minor role in an incredible project spearheaded by my late mentor, Rabbi Joseph Ehrenkranz.

After retiring as a pulpit rabbi, Rabbi Ehrenkranz accepted the position as Executive Director of the Center for Christian-Jewish Understanding at Sacred Heart University.

Soon after, he held a series of conversations with Christian, Muslim and Jewish leaders, and expressed his amazement at how little each really knew about those who worshipped in a different manner.

Worse than that, he was disturbed by a number of “misconceptions,” when those of one religion described the character and practices of the other.

And so, he embarked on a project involving mini-conferences held in the large religious hubs of Rome and Jerusalem and within smaller centers, such as Edmonton, Fairfield and Bamberg, Germany.

His effort resulted in a book released in 2006: What Do We Want the Other to Teach About Us?

The dialogues captured in the book are fascinating, but you can’t help reaching two conclusions:

We are too quick to judge others, and there is much we can learn from each other when we “honor our neighbor as ourselves.”

I thought about the Ehrenkranz project earlier this week as I reviewed this week’s Torah portion titled Judges (Shoftim).

It begins by instructing magistrates to remain impartial, laying down God’s law” about not accepting bribes or engaging in any activity that may be perceived—accurately or not—at biasing their decisions.

And then, the Torah shares a single phrase that can often be found on the walls of lawyers, judges and even some courtrooms.

“Justice, justice shall you pursue.” (Deuteronomy 16:20)

Over time, our Sages have discussed, “Why does the Torah repeat the word justice?”

And many have answered that according to God, the integrity of the justice system much be scrupulously protected.

The Torah recognizes that judges, being mortal, can easy be swayed by biases, stereotypes and—yes—even bribes.

Therefore, they say, the Torah actually commands us to take a second look at every judgement we render.

A few days before I left home for college my grandfather, Zaidie Dudie, took me aside and shared with me this piece of wisdom: “Think twice, do once.”

That advice has served me well.

These days, we as individuals—and as a society—face many challenges. It is easy to group liberals, conservatives, southerners, northerners, African Americans, Jews, Hispanics, veterans, newcomers and others into simple monolithic categories.

As well, as individuals, how often do we meet someone and—based on a first impression, their place of birth or economic status—judge their integrity, motivations and even their political sway?

The Torah offers some invaluable advice in this week’s parashah.

Whether on a national, communal or individual level, we must refrain from making quick and easy judgements. We must not let cynicism, blame, “otherism,” and even our own economic interests sully our judgements.

In essence, we must consider twice before we judge once.

Most importantly, we must imbue our children and grandchildren with the ability and willingness to assess others on an individual basis.

Many years ago, in high school, one of our daughters went on a date with a fellow of Caribbean descent. 

“Mom,” I recall her sharing with Patte. “There’s something very unique about him.

I waited for some comment about his Caribbean roots as our daughter continued.

“He’s a twin.”

And my wife and I smiled, admittedly with some sense of pride.

This week’s Torah portion reminds us to consider—no matter how a person worships or loves, no matter what their background—that each of us is an individual with the same hopes, fears, aspirations and rights.

This week’s parashah reminds us that when assessing others, every conclusion should be carefully considered—and then double checked.

Based on this, my Zaidie Dudie taught me—as a young man in a hurry—to think twice before drawing conclusions.

How right Zaidie was.

How the world and each of us these days can benefit from these wise and timely words from the Torah:

“Justice, justice, shall you pursue.”

Shabbat shalom, v’kol tuv.

Rabbi Irwin Huberman