Yom Kippur, 5779—September 18-19, 2018
Shanah
Tovah, everybody and a G’mar Tov—May we all finish the holiday season fully
sealed into the Book of Life and Health, Purpose and Meaning. And a Tzom Kal, an easy fast for us all!
Many
years ago, and now I’m talking maybe 30 years ago, I attended an interfaith
clergy conference on various contemporary issues facing the clergy. The
conference took place at Seton Hall University, a leading Catholic school of
higher learning located in South Orange, New Jersey. And as one of the initial
exercises, the clergy was asked to share what they perceived to be was the
greatest challenge in their ministry. One of the priests who held a senior
administrative position at the university asked those present for help in
dealing with priests who had crossed the line, who had violated their sacred
vows and, succumbing to their own weakness, had engaged in inappropriate, and
what we would most certainly regard today as abusive sexual encounters. Back
then, I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut, and being probably the youngest
clergy at the table and representing the other faith, I certainly was not going
to offer any perspectives that would be heard or welcomed. But I do distinctly
remember thinking that the problem was a religious regimen, namely life-long
celibacy, that was just too much for most men to abide by. And being unable to
abide by it, they sought release in all sorts of ways that were illegal, immoral,
unhealthy, and horribly damaging to who they represented within the church.
Observant Jews had their own religious regimens that limited their freedoms and
possibly their pleasures, but at least it wasn’t life-long celibacy. Jews had a
much more reasonable approach to sexuality. And that was what I was thinking
back then.
Fast
forward some 30 years, and not only are the Catholic clergy still in the news,
but thanks to the #MeToo movement, there are a whole lot of Jews in the news
whose alleged behaviors have given us a whole lot of unwelcomed publicity. Of
course, sexual harassment, abuse or assault is not a specifically Jewish
problem, but if nothing else, #MeToo has opened up a conversation in the nation
that is long overdue. This is an issue
about sin, confession, judgment, teshuvah, and the possibility of forgiveness.
#MeToo is Yom Kippur material.
The
#MeToo movement has a definitive beginning in recent history, but the problem
it addresses has been with us for centuries. The Bible itself records its own
#MeToo drama in the story of the beautiful maiden princess Tamar, daughter of
King David. Her half-brother, so this would be a son of King David, became
infatuated with her. His name was Amnon. He wasn’t the brightest torch in King
David’s palace and agonized for a long time over how he could seduce Tamar. He
consults with his cousin who recommends that he feign illness, ask King David whether
Tamar could attend to him in his illness, and in that way get his way with her.
The plan works. King David consents to have Tamar serve Amnon, she does just
that, bakes bread for him, and then when he is alone with her, forces himself
upon her. She protests and even shouts:
Such things are not done in Israel (II Samuel 13:12)
Amnon rapes her and then loathes her, throwing
her out of his room. She is beside herself, screaming, and encounters another one
of her brothers who seeks to find out what happened and she tells him
everything. The rape was no secret in the palace, and the news eventually
reaches King David, and though greatly distressed, he takes no action to either
reprimand or punish his wayward son. Two years pass. Tamar’s brother, his name
was Avshalom, was seething with anger over the assault of his sister. At when
time came to have his sheep sheared, which apparently also entailed partying
when the day’s work was done, he invites all his brothers and King David to
attend the festivities. David declines, fearing he may be a burden (he’s on in
years by then). So Avshalom counters and requests that Amnon would surely be a
proper substitute in the absence of his father, the king. To this David consents.
Amnon went out to the sheep-shearing festival, and when he was good and drunk,
Avshalom’s men, following Avshalom’s directive, murder him—and that was the end
of Amnon.
The
story should have an eerily alarming ring to it. There is something clearly
immoral going on in the palace or let’s say the corporation; the details, more
or less, are common knowledge among the royal family or let’s say the employees;
the king, or let’s say upper management,
does nothing to reprimand or stop the culprits; and finally, the outrage
over the injustice of the whole thing boils over and someone ends up dead. I
would say that this last development in the biblical story does not necessarily
have a parallel in our contemporary world, but for the fact that 1) clearly many
of the alleged perpetrators these days have had their careers ended, which is a
kind of mini-death; and 2) the public shaming that comes with the outing of the
alleged culprit is pretty brutal. And as the rabbis taught:
Whoever embarrasses his fellow in public
Is as one who has committed murder (Baba Metzia 58b)
And there you have it, we can even say that the
sordid details of our contemporary stories of sexual abuse, along with the
public outing of the abusers, end many times with their own metaphorical murder,
the alleged culprits publicly humiliated and shamed by secrets now exposed.
Amnon
did not have to die. But in order for him to have lived, the story had to
include a couple other episodes. Amon would have had to confess his sin and
express his regret. He never did. Or his father, King David, had to act to punish
his son for his crime, but King David never did. And that, too, seems to be a
common motif in our contemporary tales where women have gone to HR departments
or to the police or to people in positions of authority and their demand for
action or just even their stories went unheeded, or were poo-pooed, or they
were not taken seriously. #MeToo, I believe, is a reaction to that injustice. Since
the internal departments of corporate justice or even our own judicial system
routinely and consistently ignored the hurt of and assault on women, what
happens? Cases that could have been prosecuted in accordance with the rules of
litigation and due process, instead are tried in the worst court humanity has
ever produced, and that is the court of public opinion, which has no rules of
procedure, engagement or due process. And we should all be very mindful of that,
because the Kangaroo Courts of this world rarely end with just acquittals or just
convictions. It is almost certain that there are people who have been accused
and convicted unjustly in that court of public opinion. But right now, I’m
depending on the words of Matt Lauer, who issued an apology following
accusations levelled against him, which read in part: “Some of what is being
said about me is untrue or mischaracterized, but there is enough truth in these
stories to make me feel embarrassed and ashamed,” (Matt Lauer, Statement of
Apology, NBC, Nov. 30, 2017). I think Matt Lauer sort of summed it up
perfectly. Given all the tales of sexual misconduct that are now in
circulation, there is enough truth in all of them, for all of us to question
how we go about navigating a very natural, a very human need, and that is the
need for physical intimacy.
Many
years ago, while a rabbi in New Jersey, our school depended to some extent on
the teachers we could secure from the Orthodox community. And they were lovely,
competent teachers who helped staff our faculty. One day I walked into a
classroom, just to see how the class was operating, the Orthodox teacher looks
at me and then at the children and says, “Yeladim (Children). The rabbi is here.
We rise.” So all these pitzalach—they were third or fourth graders—they all
stood up and looked at me. I was so taken by surprise that I literally turned
around to see what rabbi had entered the classroom, until it dawned on me that
she was referring to me. So then I said something like “Uhmm, you guys can sit
down.” After class, the teacher approached me, having sensed that I was a little
uncomfortable with what had transpired, and asked if she had made a mistake in
asking the children to rise. So I told her—No mistake, but really, we just
don’t do that around here. In Passaic, in the Orthodox synagogue, I suppose
when the rabbi walks in, everybody rises, but in Springfield, NJ, in the
Conservative synagogue, it just doesn’t happen, and it never did again after
that particular incident.
The
fact of the matter is that our world often does not treat authority with the
honor it deserves. But the flip side of that is much worse. It is people of authority
who exploit their authority, and use it for personal gain or profit, motivated
by their own selfish interests. The #MeToo stories are very often stories of
this type of abuse, the abuse of personal authority. So a person in a position
of power—the head of a movie studio, a network news anchor, a politician, a
CEO, a clergy person, even a popular stand-up comedian, uses their own special
authority, that power, over someone of lesser or subordinate power or authority
for sexual favors. One could say that the person of lesser power or authority
should have the presence of mind or self-will to resist, and there is some
truth to that, but it’s not always possible physically, because that person in
power may literally be overpowering, and it’s not always possible to think of an
exit plan when taken by surprise.
In
the Greek and Roman world of antiquity, this sort of power or authority
asymmetry in sexual relationships was a social norm. It was not uncommon for
the actors in an intimate duo to be a master and a slave or a mentor and his
student. The Judeo-Christian world largely rejected that type of intimacy and
the wisdom of that position has been made manifest via the #MeToo movement as
so many of the stories are stories between people of unequal power where the
sexual overtures were unwelcomed and the subordinate actor in that duo felt trapped,
and in the end, violated.
The
sexual harassment laws in New York are very broad. Almost anything said of a
remotely sexual nature, if it makes a fellow employee uncomfortable, can be
viewed as a violation of those
standards. I’m not necessarily talking about those incidents. People say stupid
things all the time. They probably live their lives with little discretion or a
deficit of tact. Government will never be able to legislate stupidity out of
the human race, try as it may. But what I am talking about is a more fundamental
aspect of our humanity, our sexuality, and how we go about the business of
establishing an intimate relationship. And regardless of what the sexual
revolution might say about who we are as sexual beings, creating proper physical
intimacy has always been and always will be an exercise in morality. It is with
considerable forethought and insight that within the confessional we recite
repeatedly throughout this Yom Kippur, we will say—Al het shehatanu, We have
sinned against You through sexual immorality.
The
sexual revolution of the 60’s was a sort of double-edged sword. It definitely
brought a kind of freedom or openness to human intimacy, welcomed by many, but
it also advocated the the release of sexuality from its traditional mooring in
a loving monogamous relationship. The distance between that conception of
sexual freedom and monogamous partnership is a few football fields and their
parking lots. I’m not that naïve as to think that intimacy in this world will
always and only take place within loving, monogamous relationships, but if I
were to frame a rule here, I’d say that the casual relationship, that is not a
consensual relationship, is also not a kosher relationship. I don’t like
coercion in virtually any context, but coercion in a sexual relationship is a
violation of a person’s humanity. It is really low. When we hear the slogan, as
we sometimes do, that No means No, it is a piece of wisdom formulated by the
rabbis some 2000 year ago who said:
Your “yes” should be genuine and your “no” should be genuine (Baba
Metiza 49a)
That means that we have to speak truthfully
but we also have to listen respectfully. No really does mean no.
The
#MeToo movement may be a transition into a new awareness of sexuality or just a
temporary eruption of anger that will subside and people will go back to the
same sordid interactions, authorities subduing subordinates, men taking
advantage of women, and nothing will change. But for argument’s sake, let’s
assume the best. Let’s say that yes—this is a moment of extraordinary transition
where everything is going to change. What exactly is it that has to change?
When
the Torah describes the first sexual encounter, which as you may well imagine
was that between Adam and Eve, the Torah reads:
And Adam knew his wife, Eve (Genesis 4:1)
The
verb “know” in this case is a euphemism for sexual intimacy. But the Hebrew
root from which it emanates, yod-dalet-ayin, is a root that suggests a deep
appreciation or love of someone. So, for example, when God is unable to keep
from Abraham the imminent destruction of two wicked cities, Sodom and Gomorrah,
God declares:
Because I know him… (Genesis 18:19)
I know this Abraham character—how he
interacts with his children and teaches them about love and how he is really
concerned with what is just and right. God knows Abraham but even more deeply
appreciates him for who he is. The Hebrew verb used for God’s knowing of
Abraham is the same Hebrew verb used for the sexual intimacy between Adam and
Eve. In other words, the Torah perceives of physical intimacy, certainly of
that between the first man and woman, as something greater than a biological
act. It would be a sort of culmination of profound appreciation and love for
one’s partner. Sexual encounters that are acts of domination—assault, rape, anything
of a coercive, non-consensual nature—would be the very opposite of that knowing,
that paradigm. It would be a willful act of ignoring another person and
treating them as a means toward one’s own selfish ends.
It
doesn’t take a whole lot to be a Jew. If your mother is a Jew, then you are a
Jew. But to be a repentant Jew, to be a Jew who is impacted by a 3500 year old
tradition, that already takes a willingness and an openness to seeing humans in
a special way. They are not merely the upper tier in the pyramid of animal
evolution, they are not to be viewed as units of labor, they are not nameless,
they are not singularities disconnected from family or cultures, and they are
not play things to be used for anyone’s personal pleasure. We are, each of us,
reflections of a greater energy, and fragments of that greater power, and
within each of us burns a flame of godliness that makes each and everyone of us
beyond precious, and sacred. And yes—in that sacred mixture are problems, shortcomings, and failures. Actually, our problems and
shortcomings and failures are part of our humanity and we had better understand
that from the start and respect it, for there is no other way for any of us to
appreciate each other without an acceptance of the totality of our humanity, which
is a complicated composition.
To
manipulate a person emotionally is a sin. To defraud a person financially is a
sin. And to exploit a person sexually is a sin. All those crimes take place
when people view the other as a commodity to be used and not an organic,
evolving, creation of God to be cherished. It all begins with the delusion that
the world exists in order to satisfy our personal cravings. It doesn’t.
If
there is to be teshuvah, if there is to be repentance, there has to be some realization
that the person manipulated, defrauded, exploited, raped—that was someone’s
daughter, that was someone’s sister, that was possibly someone’s mother. The
hurt will end when we begin to see others in the fullness of who they are, and
not in the narrowness of what we want them to be, in the moment. To achieve
repentance, you have to really believe that you have been created b’tzelem
Elohim, in the image of God, and that so has everyone else. And I don’t think we
can force anyone to believe that because it’s a sacred myth of the Jewish
people, it’s a conception of humanity that guides us in how we treat each
other, it is a question of faith.
And
you may say—Wait, rabbi, people of faith have also abused others sexually in
profoundly offensive ways. And you’re sort of right. But I’m telling you now—they’re
fakin’ it! No one of genuine faith can abuse a child of God, and we are all
children of God.
And
then there’s something else we can’t force—forgiveness. I can tell you that
forgiveness is a Jewish value and when one can reach that space that we call
forgiveness, that is a special place of kedushah, of holiness. But like a whole
lot of other things in life, I don’t think we can coerce or guilt anyone into that
space. Reaching that space is a personal venture, it depends on the character
of they who have been wounded, and the repentance of they who have inflicted
the wounds. But wouldn’t it be nice to live in a world where in fact the
culprits could admit guilt and repent, and where the victims could prevail upon
their past and forgive?
Ours
is a tradition that is very optimistic. In Psalm 92 we read that the wicked of
the world are numerous, proliferating like grass, but like grass they
eventually wither and remain destroyed forever. On the other hand, the
righteous shall blossom like the date palm. If you’ve ever seen a cluster of
dates on a date palm, you know how numerous they can be. A mature date palm can
produce between 150-300 pounds of dates per harvest. That’s a lot of dates. The
righteous shall blossom like a date palm. The word for date in Hebrew is Tamar,
just like King David’s daughter.
Tzadik kaTamar yifrah!
The righteous shall flourish like Tamar (Psalm 92:13)
Tamar was so shocked when Amnon attacked her:
Such things are not done in Israel (II Samuel 13:12)
Tamar
got that a little wrong. Such things are sadly and tragically done in Israel,
that is among Jews. What Tamar should have said is that such things should
never be done in Israel. Let’s hope and pray that the Tamars of this world
secure the justice they deserve, and that people will recognize the
righteousness of their cause. Justice delayed is justice denied and in this
case, justice has been delayed and denied for far too long.
Ge’mar
Hatimah Tovah—May all be sealed into the Book of a good and
a just Life.
