I spoke openly and
often in that community about standing up to hatred by engendering
understanding between people of different faiths and backgrounds. Yes, it did work; yes, it was
possible. Yes, I could have a calm
discussion about Middle East politics with a local physician who headed the
Islamic center in town. Yes, my
Christian clergy colleagues and I could find common ground, from the most
conservative to the most liberal.
That happened after years of working together, talking with each other,
and building trust in general, even when our disagreements on certain issues
were as wide as the Grand Canyon.
I wonder
if Israel’s Sephardic Chief Rabbi Shlomo Amar would have made some of his
negative statements about Reform Jews this year if he had engaged in study, at
any time, with rabbis and scholars from a wide spectrum of approaches to
Judaism. Such ongoing
relationships might have prevented him from asserting that Conservative and
Reform Rabbis are “uprooters of Torah” who have to answer for the damage they
are doing to the Jewish world. He
might not have advised that it would be better for a secular Jew who was away
from home this year on Rosh Hashanah to pray by himself rather than pray in a
Reform congregation.
I can’t say that those words don’t hurt, but it is a position I expect. Still, I am not one to give up on developing
mutual respect or, at least, sharing a small slice of the truth. During
Passover in 1977, I accompanied a college friend on a trip organized by his
Yeshiva to a site in the Judean hills. I eventually told one of the American Yeshiva students
on that trip that I was a Reform rabbinic student living in Jerusalem that
year. He was puzzled, thinking I
believed in a different religion than he did. So he asked, “On Yom Kippur, I
fast and pray all day in synagogue in order to atone for my sins. What do you do on Yom Kippur?” I replied quickly – “I do the same
thing you do.” I would like
to think that I brought just a little light of understanding into his
world.
I still receive the
Kansas City Jewish Chronicle to maintain connections with the community that
raised me. This weekly newspaper,
during every election cycle, features op-ed articles and letters-to-the-editor
that urge people to vote for one candidate – or one party – or another. Sometimes the rhetoric gets testy, so
much so that it elicited this letter a few weeks ago: “When members of our
Jewish community write a letter to this newspaper to express a political
opinion, they should not be subjected to personal attacks. Is a reasoned
response, such as ‘I disagree with so and so’s opinion because…” too much to
ask, without resorting to name calling? It doesn’t matter what side of the
political aisle you’re on; it’s clear as day that some recent letters have
lowered the level of civil discourse in this community. Personal attacks by one
member of the community should be condemned by people of all political
persuasions. I’m not in favor of censorship, but for the sake of peace in the
community, this newspaper might want to refrain from publishing such letters in
the future.”
I have
seen newspapers in the communities in which I have lived print pointed
expressions from readers without hesitation. When I would write a letter in response to sentiments with
which I disagreed, I made sure that it was about the topic, not the person. I tried to couch my language in such a
way that people from a wide range of opinions could hear it and think about it.
In one case, I was involved in a series of back-and-forth letters-to-the-editor
about the right of a local pastor to pray in a way that was particularly
Christian in the state legislature (which I opposed). The other letter writer and I eventually had a face-to-face
meeting – he was a deacon at a local Church of God in Christ and came by his
view honestly. He spoke
intelligently and without hostility to me. At the end of our meeting, we were able to agree to disagree. This man became a regular participant
in an interfaith dialogue group where we continued to disagree agreeably and to
listen to and reflect on our respective views.
This is a night that
is about our actions but it is, especially, about our words. What we say can create or destroy a
world, where that world may be a relationship between two people or many
people. Words can create
expectations that may or may not be met.
Words can express the complexities of our thoughts and opinions on
crucial issues. They can also give
voice to personal passion for a particular perspective. Such passion is well placed as long as
it doesn’t prevent a person from hearing crucial information or another opinion
that might deserve consideration.
How we say what is on our
minds and in our hearts does matter. We do use our words to express our opinions but, also,
to promise to give or do something either for ourselves or for the benefit of
another person or an entire community. One aspect of human nature that hasn’t changed over
the centuries is that, sometimes, we can’t fulfill such promises. Other concerns and tasks may intervene
in a way we didn’t expect.
The rabbis acknowledged this reality, but as much as they discouraged
people from making promises they couldn’t keep, their community members did so
anyway. A prayer very similar to
KOL NIDREI became popular because people wanted to be unburdened of the guilt
of past unfulfilled promises so that they could feel that they were truly
forgiven. The original prayer that annulled vows of the previous year was a
problem for some rabbis, who felt that we still needed to be bound by the words
we spoke in some significant
way. About
1000 years ago, Rabbi Meir ben Samuel, the son-in-law of the great sage Rashi,
proposed that the KOL NIDREI prayer be modified to annul in advance any vows
people might make in the coming 12 months, from this Yom Kippur to the
next. That is the wording that we
chanted during tonight’s service.
Admitting that we might, in the future, make a promise we can’t keep,
could make us think before we speak so that others will be able to trust what
we say. There is a large dose of
forgiveness for our humanity built into this prayer. We make mistakes.
We try to use our words wisely, but we don’t always succeed. Sometimes we just need a break. KOL
NIDREI takes away the feeling that we have to be perfect. It allows us to be who we are: human beings
striving to get as close to perfection as possible.
Rabbi Lawrence Hoffman compiled
a wide variety of reflections on the Kol Nidre prayer in his book, ALL THESE
VOWS. In one chapter of this
anthology, Rabbi and Psychologist Ruth Durchslag specifically addressed the
power of words. She began her
chapter in the book with this declaration: “In my life as a psychologist I rely
on words to heal. In my work as a
rabbi I rely on words to inspire.
When I write, I rely on words to communicate. As a mediator, I have learned that words mean nothing at
all.” She noted that KOL NIDREI,
on one level, suggests that words don’t really count. Then she noted that words do count. In the Torah, God used speech – words –
to begin creation by saying “LET THERE BE LIGHT!” The Torah says that God
didn’t just write the Ten Commandments on stone, God spoke those words. Rabbi Durchslag explained that
when we recite a blessing, the words we have spoken change our way of being in
the world. She noted how
silence, the absence of the spoken word, can also create something new. Silent reflection on a difficult
situation can change a “no” to a “yes” once we have deeply pondered our own
feelings and values. In our
silence, we might hear the words we have spoken in the past as harsh or
meaningless. From a place of no
words, we may feel a desire to take back some of what we have said. A moment of meditation or introspection
may allow us to better understand how to carefully craft our words so that they
will be meaningful and affirming.
The Kol Nidrei prayer gives us permission to feel regret, even in advance,
for words indelicately spoken. It
reminds us to speak as though even one phrase or one word can change the state
of the universe and the course of history.
At most any
time in public life, words are flying in countless directions, whether from
leaders or news commentators, or proponents of one ideology or another. Parker Palmer, author of Healing the Heart of Democracy: The Courage to
Create a Politics Worthy of the Human Spirit, lamented the state of public discourse in a Huffington
Post article with this statement: “Want to undermine American democracy? Start
by making citizens so distrustful and dismissive of each other -- especially of
those who are "different" in their political/religious/philosophical
convictions or their sexual orientation/ethnicity/race -- that the power of
"We the People" dissipates as we tear each other apart….Political civility is not about being polite to each
other. It's about reclaiming the power of ‘We the People’ to come together,
debate the common good and call American democracy back to its highest values
amid our differences. The civility we need will come not from watching our
tongues, but from valuing our differences
and the creativity that can come when we hold them well.”
In his book, The Third
Alternative, Stephen
Covey suggested a path that can effectively lead individuals or groups in
conflict to a peaceful and productive resolution. Covey directs people to seek out those who espouse an
opposing position and truly listen to their viewpoint. Listening means to hear clearly what
the other person is saying, all the while remembering that he or she is not an
enemy, but a human being who deserves respect. The goal of conflict resolution is not victory for one
position or another, but transformation for both sides, so that they can
ultimately see that they are really on the same side, bound together as members
of a community.
For Parker Palmer and Stephen
Covey, and for us, words can and do create worlds. The words shared by many of you with me about creating a
civil society offer a meaningful guide to how we can say what we need to say in
the best way possible. How can we state our perspectives in such a way that
they will be heard and understood, as if we are members of the same team? Listen now to your wisdom and
counsel:
· Listening and caring matter, being aware
that we all make mistakes and can unconsciously hurt others perhaps
because we ourselves are hurting...and the words "I'm sorry" should
be enough ...it matters that we accept each person for who they are and don't
try to mold them into what or who we think they should be, but rather celebrate
the fact that we are all individuals.
· Dismissing another’s ideas to promote your
own is not a way to discuss issues.
· Before I judge another's
words or behavior, I think about myself on the worst day of my life and try to
give that person the break that I needed on that particular day.
· To have meaningful,
collaborative relationships with others you need to think about what you say in
the context of the audience you address. This is true with an audience of
thousands or an audience of one.
· Remind yourself: You Want To Continue A
Relationship With This Person Beyond This Conversation: think about maintaining
ties, not scoring points or dismissing someone with views that differ from your
own. It is possible to have respectful, educated disagreement. It's important
that we not view a difference of opinion as inherently problematic!
·
Within the Jewish community, acknowledge
and respect that the Torah and Jewish law are open to many interpretations that
affirm a wide range of views on tough subjects.
· Actively listen
to what another person has to say. Even if you disagree with it, make sure you
understand the meaning before expressing your own ideas, and use that
understanding to emphasize common ground.
· Listen carefully to what is being
said. Don't argue. Rather, pause before answering and answer
softly, sincerely, and succinctly.
· By completely focusing on notions that
make a lot of sense to you, making no attempt to see the other person's
point-of-view, that's how evil comes about.
· Respect others--their values,
viewpoints, and overall importance as human beings. All discussions should be
at a conversational, low-decibel auditory level. Ask : What do you
think/What is your opinion?", do
not interrupt as you listen to the
answer, and then say "Thank you".
· Always consider this question when
speaking to another person: “How would I feel if you said to me what I'm about
to say to you?”
· Message content aside, never engage
another person using a mean-spirited, hateful tone or abusive language to which
you yourself would not favorably respond.
· Reasoned dialog between disagreeing
persons is possible if the discussion is tempered with the realization
that unfettered emotions tied to a certain point of view will
distort facts and lead to false accusations and name calling,
resulting in a shouting match. Perhaps enforce the
simple principle of waiting your turn to speak, and speak with respect.
· One person is not superior to another and
each deserves equal respect. Where there are ears that truly listen and
hearts that truly hear, there is hope for a civil society.
Through what we
say and how we say it, we can hold out hope for reaching true understanding.
The KOL NIDREI prayer reminds us to make our words count before we even say
them. Before the T’FILAH, we
pray a verse from PSALM 51, “ADONAI S’FATAI TIF’TACH UFI YAGID T’HILATECHA,
Eternal One, open my lips, that my mouth may declare Your praise.” We need to remember that when we speak
to any person, he or she is created in the divine image. We are part of the same family. No
disagreement or difference can change that, because diversity is built into the
human condition.
The Talmud tells of
how the schools of the great sages Hillel and Shammai were in regular
conflict. In one instance, the
debate became so heated that only a heavenly voice could stop their verbal
confrontations. The voice declared, “Both of your positions are the words of
the living God – both are valid – EILU V’EILU DIVREI ELOHIM CHAYIM – but the
law is in agreement with the students of Hillel.” “Why one side and not the other?” the Talmud asked. The passage explained that the students
of Hillel were kind and modest, they studied their own rulings and those of
their opponents, and they were so humble that they would mention the opinions
of Shammai before stating their own views.
And so, in the coming
year, from this Yom Kippur to the next, may we speak with humility, with
honesty and with respect. May the
still small voice inside of us guide our speech so that what we say will bring
us closer together, giving meaning not only to the words “We the People,” but
also to one simple expression of unity - “WE.” So may it be - and let us say AMEN.
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