Talk at Rally on Washburn University Campus - May 5, 1992 (after Rodney King verdict)

Talk at Rally on Washburn University Campus 

May  5, 1992

Rabbi Lawrence P. Karol

      I was told that I was asked to speak here today as representative of the local clergy and faith community-yet I am not quite representative of the overwhelming majority of clergy who are pastors, ministers and priests in Topeka because no one calls me father, reverend or pastor. I have been Topeka's only rabbi for 8 years, serving Temple Beth Sholom and a Jewish community that is a nearly invisible but proud religious and ethnic group . I say nearly invisible because our numbers, less than 500 in our area and about 14 million worldwide, make it rare for people to even realize that Topeka has a Jewish community. I say proud because I represent a tradition that few people realize has developed over the last 2000 years into a rich heritage of celebrations that teaches values which many of us prize in our own way.

      It was just a coincidence that the Rodney King verdict was handed down last week on the day when Jews around the world were beginning to observe Yom Hashoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day, to honor the memory of victims and martyrs of the Holocaust who died at the hands of the Nazis 50 years ago. Some of you may know of the current attempts to deny that the Holocaust even happened--yet it did happen. and in the same way we cannot deny brutality we have seen with our own eyes, including the beating that led to the King case being brought to trial. The response of violence and looting in Los Angeles and other cities was a reflection of the frustration of the African-American and other minority communities in our country. In remembering these days, I would hope that history will focus not on tragic deaths and the beating of a number of people, including a white truck driver, but on the example set by the African-American woman who saved that truck driver and guided him to the hospital. That woman's act of courage and caring in the midst of an inferno of tension grew out of the same motivation for dialogue and reaching out to one another that has brought us together today. 

    This week, the portion of the Torah, the scroll of Genesis through Deuteronomy, that Jews around the world will read includes the statement in Leviticus Chapter 19, "Love your neighbor as yourself." These words can make a world of difference and a difference in our world if we understand them properly. This fundamental teaching of consideration for all people lies at the root of the religious faith that many of us espouse. This past Monday, I asked the board members of my congregation, Temple Beth Sholom, to define what is meant by love and neighbor in this teaching that is central to the Bible's message.   Love, they said, meant respect; concern; cooperation; acceptance of others as they are; and showing love through actions and outward behaviors. Neighbor, they said, meant everyone--from across the street to across the world--including people we know and others we may never meet, but always starting with our own community.

     I remember standing with hundreds, maybe thousands of people at Liberty Memorial in Kansas City on the Sunday after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in 1968. I was thirteen years old at the time. I felt privileged to be there among people of all backgrounds who had come to pay their respects to a great leader. My rabbi spoke along with clergy of various Christian denominations and other faith groups. Within 48 hours, that beautiful tapestry of unity was torn asunder by the riots that erupted all over the country. It was that same frustration that rose to the surface 24 years ago that we saw last week. There are many explanations for what has caused the racial tensions that have never subsided in our country for its entire 216 years of independence. Part of the answer is in a saying of a Jewish teacher named Shammai who lived 2000 years ago in Judea under the shadow of Roman oppression and tyranny. Shammai said, "Say little and do much.” If our leaders in the White House for the last 12 years as well as other public officials, would have followed these words, we would have seen laws, Supreme Court decisions, and government and community programs that engendered a sense of that all of us are equal as human beings and deserve equal opportunity. Instead, it appears that our presidents, judges and other leaders decided that the best course was "say much and do little." We know that actions speak louder than words--now is a time for positive action to make the vision of a society based on equality, acceptance and understanding a reality. 

    That vision will not be real until we are certain that all people have adopted the broadest definition of who is their neighbor. That vision will not be real until we are willing to speak to and listen to people from beyond our own class, gender, faith community or ethnic group. That vision will not be real as long as the words "kinder, gentler nation" are only lip service and not the expression of true intention. Some people who experience the worst discrimination may feel that they can rely only on themselves to make that vision real. I believe that this is not a journey to be made alone. Another teacher in Judea of 2000 years ago named Hillel said. "Do not separate yourself from your community." Community begins here and now--with the commitment to keep talking with each other. no matter what our differences might be; to celebrate our diversity and to share with others the best of our heritage; to build bridges. not barriers. so that we can journey towards that cherished vision of equality and understanding and make it real.  

     As we have joined our hearts and minds today in common cause. may we now unite ourselves in spirit. I delivered these words to the State House of Representatives this morning--and I offer them here with hopes for the better days to come: 

“Creator of the Universe, God of all humanity, we know, especially from the events of recent days, that many of our brothers and sisters feel tired and isolated, abandoned and lonely; teach us to be their friends. Many are anxious and afraid-help us to calm their fears. Some are tortured in body and mind; imbue them with courage and strength. Others in their emptiness seek only wealth, fame or power; teach them to value the many other gifts that life can hold for them. Some are drained of faith; they are cynical, bored or despairing; let our confidence and vitality shine forth for them to see the many opportunities around them for personal creativity and human progress. And some live with death in their souls; they are stunned, violent, and filled with hate: Give us the wisdom to save them from the wastelands of the spirit. And teach us to show our love; let our compassion and knowledge flow forth from within us and direct us to seek the welfare, dignity and vigor of everyone. May we join together in our efforts to engender warmth and fellowship throughout the human family so that all may know they are not alone. Amen.”

The Rhythm of Jewish Life - Even Now, Even Virtual - August 18, 2020

The Rhythm of Jewish Life...Even Now, Even Virtual

A Purim Carnival and Spiel

A postponed naming for our smiley granddaughter 

many miles away 

A Bat Mitzvah

A Wedding 

And then....

PANDEMIC

The closings began 

Facebook live services

Morning Prayers, Blessings and a Psalm

Torah Study on Zoom

And since that worked...all this on Zoom: 

Weekly Tanakh Study

Religious School gatherings

Board meetings 

A Community Passover Seder recorded with local rabbis 

A Virtual Congregational Second Night Passover Seder 

Passover services 

An Adult Bar/Bat Mitzvah on its planned day, with a Torah scroll nearby 

Last Day of Religious School with a Drive-by thank you

The Temple Annual Meeting 

Friday night services with multiple readers

Erev Shavuot study 

Shavuot Yizkor service 

A baby naming for our smiley granddaughter from a distance

Two conversions

A Grand retirement event

One socially-distanced outdoor memorial gathering 

And, behind the scenes: 

A variety of webinars and classes in April, May and June

NewCAJE through all of July, with weekly Kumsitz sing-alongs

West-Coast Saturday sing-alongs once a month

This has been about 

Keeping our rhythm 

Of holidays, conferences, learning, and connection 

What will happen 

as the High Holy Days approach

As the time for the holidays of Sukkot and Simchat Torah draw near? 

We will respond

With creativity 

That will modify or replace the old mold

To fashion a new approach 

That will serve 

To unify

To inspire 

To lead us through 

With joy

With hope

And with the knowledge

That we are not alone.

A Nation of Miracles? The Miracles I want to see come to pass - August 28, 2020

If we are citizens in a nation of miracles, perhaps these are miracles some people would like to see:

*An end to racism, prejudice, hatred and discrimation of all kinds, which would take a sea change in how we view inside what and whom we see on the outside, and where the immediate response would not be fear, but an attempt to understand and repair what needs fixing for those who are victims of discrmination, prejudice, racism and hatred. 

*Respect for workers in all types of jobs on the part of customers, employers, and heads of corporations, enough to provide them with a living wage, health care/health insurance, and a secure pension.  

*People viewing responsibility as equal to rights, rather than seeing rights as the only thing that’s important, especially when we need, more than ever, to care about each other’s health and well being. 

*The creation of a truth serum that would be given to all candidates for public office that they would have to take before they speak (I know, this might cause problems, but it could be better than what we have now). 

*Education for children and adults that enables people to think for themselves, to help them understand their place in the economy, in society, and in the world. 

*The fulfillment of a rabbinic story in which God tells the first couple that this world has been created for us, and that we should not destroy it. 

*A world where love, compassion and cooperation overcome the thirst for power and the need to compete, all of which would lead us to peace.  

On this anniversary of the 1963 March on Washington, it appears that I have a few dreams.  They may not be realized soon, but I, for one, won’t stop dreaming.

Reflections on the day - August 28, 2020 (From a retired rabbi looking at past, present and future)

Standing behind the curtain of community

I can hear words

Melodies 

that are still very much a part of me

Others have stepped into a space of duty

And responsibility

While I look back

Far back

To expressions of my mind and heart and soul

Infused into public spaces 

To call upon the Oneness 

That can inspire us to do good for one another. 

I have touched remnants of moments 

When the wisdom and knowledge of others

Deepened my own understanding 

Of the world around me

And enhanced my own foundation 

Of knowledge, of values, of a desire to serve 

That was created so long ago. 

Settings for leadership may change

Contexts for conversation will turn to new, smaller vistas

Yet, there is too much happening

That threatens to destroy the very principles

that have guided me and many others

For me to be silent 

Or afraid. 

The Oneness 

Senses our essential holiness

Through coverings that keep us safe

And through isolation that does not disconnect us 

One from another 

For it is in our oneness

fashioned and strengthened by acts of kindness and compassion

That the Oneness will enter

And walk with us along this journey

And bind us together 

And never permit us, ever, to feel alone

 

Unexpected Counsel (A Midrash on Retirement) - for Parashat Shoftim - August 16, 2020

    “You shall appoint magistrates and officials for your tribes.”

      I heard Moses announce that to all the people.  

    “Justice!  Justice shall you pursue!” 

     I heard him say that as well. 

     I was one of those magistrates appointed 39 years ago, when Moses’ father-in-law Jethro paid a visit and recommended that he delegate his exhausting caseload of hearing disputes between one Israelite and another to people “who were trustworthy, who spurned ill-gotten gain.”   

     That was when I started hearing cases.  

    It was difficult.  We were in the wilderness.  There were few boundaries between people as we traveled from one place to another and encamped for a short time in each location. 

    “They shall govern the people with due justice. You shall not judge unfairly: you shall show no partiality.” 

     That is what Moses just proclaimed to the Israelites.  He told us that, too, way back when we started.  

      Showing no partiality was not the hard part.   The reactions of the people between whom we judged was difficult.   

    Some would accuse me and my fellow magistrates of being unfair, even when they knew they were clearly in the wrong.   

     Others would praise us for our efforts to view everyone with a lens of equality, even when the decision did not go their way 

      Did I make mistakes?  Yes.   Did I try to rectify them?  Yes, I did, whenever possible.   I know I am created in the image of God, as my parents taught me from when I was young.  I know all of us among this wandering community are intricately connected, one with another.   That is why I tried to be fair. 

     “You shall not take bribes, for bribes blind the eyes of the discerning and upset the plea of the just.”  

      Moses needed to say this again and again.  Did people try to influence me and my colleagues through bribery?  They did, but, fortunately, not often.  We immediately rebuked those who did (as far as I know).    We knew how important it was to be trustworthy throughout our careers. 

     At that point, my time of serving as a magistrate was over.  We had trained a new generation of judges over these years.  Moses’ declaration for officials to pursue justice was the culmination of all of our teaching. 

      I was wondering what I should do, as a rank-and-file Israelite.   

     I stepped away from the people for a few hours.  Then, I saw a figure approaching.    

      It was Moses, who was preparing to deliver the next part of his farewell address.   

      “Peretz, is that you?”  

    “Yes, my teacher Moses!  It is. You remembered! I came here to think about what I should do next.” 

      Moses looked at me with concern. “Peretz, why would you wonder what you should do?  You have been one of my most reliable and consistent magistrates.   People appreciated your thoughtfulness in your decision-making, and how you helped them grow in character as you announced your judgments.  You should rest.”  

     I was grateful for the guidance, but I was still was unsure of my next steps.  “Moses, I know that your time as leader is coming to a close, and that you will soon be succeeded by Joshua as you remain on this side of the Jordan.   I will be crossing with the Israelites into the land which we have been waiting for so long to enter.   What can I do?”

     Moses didn’t hesitate to answer.  “Peretz, you know so much from your many years as magistrate.   Continue to teach.  Impart your wisdom.  Reveal to the new generation of judges how to truly be impartial.  And, more than that, go among the people and teach them how to be fair with one another and to how treat each other with a sense of respect and decency in their daily lives.   Living in the land might provide a sense of security to every Israelite, but the nature of relationships will not change.   There will be misunderstanding, impatience, cruelty, and a lack of hope.  You can help people to treat one another with compassion, and even love.” 

     I had listened intently.  Moses’ words overwhelmed me. “That all sounds like more than I did when I served as magistrate, Moses!  How can I make all of that happen?” 

    Moses reassured me.  “You don’t have to do it all at once, Peretz.  You saw how we moved in the wilderness from one place to another, step-by-step, learning along the way how to be a people.   Establish one goal for yourself every day.   It doesn’t take being a person with a formal position to make a difference in this world!” 

     “Thank you, Moses.   I know what I have to do, and we know that all of us must emulate your humility and your special spirit.    I will do my best.”  

     “I know you will, my son.  I must return to the people now to continue imparting my teaching.  Can you help me walk back to the place where I need to stand?”  

     “Yes, of course, my teacher.” 

      I knew that I was about to perform an act of kindness and support as a “regular Israelite” that I would long remember. 

       Many more would follow. 

  

    

The Urgency of Generosity - Parashat Re’eh - August 14, 2020

Thinking about Re’eh - A D’var Torah for our time

(I wrote most of this commentary in 2007, as the 2008 campaign was in full swing - in the 30 days that followed after this interpretation first appeared, I attended events for Senator Barack Obama and Senator Sam Brownback.  Now, its basic message - with some updates- becomes even more poignant)

The COVID-19 pandemic has created an economic situation that is difficult in the extreme.   The question of opening up our communities — or not opening up—can be left for others to discuss, debate and decide.   

    The question in my mind is how to deal with people who are now unable to pay for their mortgages or rent, or for food, will be able to survive.   There are many sources of assistance coming from communities in a voluntary way.  The possibility of the continuation of government support is dim at the moment. The goal, under these unusual circumstances, should be to support people who would normally be supporting themselves through their employment, with, perhaps, some extra help.     

     The idea of providing a safety net for those who have the greatest need at any time finds expression in this week’s Torah reading.   Deuteronomy, Chapter 15 (Re’eh) states both ideal and down-to-earth suggestions for how to  deal with the continuing challenge of alleviating Vpoverty. Verse 4 of Chapter 15 declares, “There will be no needy among you if only you listen to 

your Eternal God.” Verses 7 through 11 then present the realistic perspective: “If there is a needy person among you….do not harden your 

heart or shut your hand. Give to a person in need readily and without regrets, for in return your Eternal God will bless you in all your undertakings. For there will never cease to be needy ones in your land…open your hand to the poor and needy in your land.” 

    This passage seems to contradict itself, but it did, quite simply, offer a prescription after setting the ultimate goal. In other words, this passage might be understood in this way:   “Listen to the teaching that says that people should not harden their hearts towards those in need but, instead, they should open their hand and give without regret…THEN there will be no 

people in need, trapped in poverty.”

 Perhaps this paragraph from the Torah can guide us as we listen to candidates and leaders, especially now,  speak about the solutions they propose to enable people to continue to acquire what they need for  food, shelter and a measure of comfort during our current situation and in its aftermath.   Maybe it can spur some of those leaders to move beyond their current inaction. 

   Let us hope that our communities and nation still have the ability to provide for people in need with openness, concern and generosity.

God’s face...and our faces - August 9, 2020

I led a memorial gathering tonight at the local outdoor downtown plaza.  Everyone was wearing a mask.  There was mostly adequate social distancing between people from different households.    Sound equipment was sanitized between people who came up to speak.   

      As people talked about the congregant and community member to whom we were offering a memorial tribute, it occurred to me that people who have been saying lately, “God created me without a mask, so I am not going to wear one” might not be approaching the biblical statements about “faces” quite right.  

     Biblical passages portray God’s face as shining on us and being lifted towards us, both being signs of favor and kindness.   Other biblical verses speak of God hiding the divine face from us, indicating a separation, a gulf that we might want to close as much as we can by performing acts reflecting kindness, goodness, and reverence for all creation.      

     Of course, saying that God has a face is an anthropomorphic statement.  Many people of faith don’t mean it literally, even when sacred texts talk about God’s eyes, nose, mouth, ears, and hands.  Face can mean a sacred presence and spirit, a Oneness that connects us all and pervades the entire universe. 

       The face, that is, the presence and spirit, of our friend and family member who recently died was very much felt during the memorial service.   And while our faces were covered, our masks could not conceal the love, appreciation, and gratitude that was expressed in recollections that were shared.    We were able to recognize each other as a community that had gathered for a loving remembrance, even while wearing masks that were intended to bring the best possible preservation of our health.  

      Our collective “face” transcended our individual physical appearance.  We were one community, hearing some stories for the first time and learning lessons from a life well lived that will lead us to do good works in the community.    

     It’s the intangible and unseen face that represents our character and our soul that will guide us to reach out to one another in love and support to bring healing  and hope.