A Legacy of Prophets

Posted by Rabbi Marla Feldman, Director of the
Commission on Social Action of Reform Judaism. This article originally appeared
in Ten Minutes of Torah.

This week,
we are particularly reminded of the legacy of our prophets, as both the secular
and Jewish calendars feature themes related to justice. Not only do we
commemorate the life and message of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., but we also
observe the yahrzeit
of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, who
inspired so many Jewish social justice activists. In describing how he felt
about marching with Dr. King in Selma,
Rabbi Heschel famously said that he felt as if his feet were praying. Social
action is the prayer that we offer with our hands and our feet; the prayers we
offer by rolling up our sleeves and working on behalf of the poor and needy, by
marching for justice and by speaking truth to power.

And
reinforcing these themes this week is our Torah portion, Parashat Shemot, which begins the saga of the Exodus — the tale of
redemption from slavery and the struggle for freedom and justice that defines
our people. We are introduced to Moses in this parashah. Moses, our greatest prophet, survives the cruelty of
Pharoah’s evil decree by the brave and righteous civil disobedience of the
midwives and the compassion and mercy of Pharoah’s own daughter.

But what is
perhaps most remarkable about the Torah’s depiction of our greatest leader is
that, unlike the myths of other civilizations, Moses is no super-hero. He is
neither god-like nor particularly brave or strong or wise. He stumbles, he makes
mistakes; he runs away from his problems and tries to avoid responsibility. Yet,
when he witnesses a slave in danger, he intercedes to save a life, risking his
own. He gallantly steps in to protect his future bride when other shepherds
prevented her from drawing water. And when he hears strange voices is the desert
night and he sees an impossible vision of a bush burning unconsumed, he
recognizes the power of God in his life.

Though he
demurs when called, doubting that anyone would listen to him, at the end of the
day Moses summons his courage and chokes down his fear in order to Speak Truth
to Power. Over and over Moses stands before Pharoah, facing the greatest power
on earth, to demand nothing less than freedom for his people.

Our story
is about a person just like us, who becomes a great leader because he recognizes
injustice and he has the courage to hear God’s voice and the fortitude to speak
up, despite his uncertainty and his fears.

Which, of
course, brings to mind the American hero we remember this week, the Reverend Dr.
Martin Luther King, Jr., who also brought a message of freedom for his people; a
modern-day prophet who spoke truths some did not want to hear, who risked his
life to preach that message nonetheless.

King’s
message was about more than civil rights… he was an ardent defender of
economic justice, bridging the dreadful gap between haves and have-nots, raising
up the poorest among us to reach the fullness of their potential. He was opposed
to war, not only because of the terrible death and destruction it brings, but
also because it deflects our efforts away from addressing the terrible ills of
society that exist in our own neighborhoods.

King’s
legacy continues to inspire us as Americans and as fellow travelers in the march
toward justice and peace. His dream… that one day all children will live in a
nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the
content of their character… remains a vision of what the future can be, but
not yet the reality for which we hope and pray.

The annual
commemoration of Dr. King’s life was instituted to serve as a reminder that his
work is not yet complete, and it is our task to carry his message into the 21st
Century.

And we certainly have our work cut out for us!

For many of
us, the recent hurricanes exposed the scope of poverty and injustice in this
country, and the message that we ought not continue business as usual. We can no
longer ignore the gross disparity between rich and poor or the implications of
race and bad public policy.

I recently
returned from New Orleans, and though I
was inspired by the resilience of those who have returned to rebuild their lives
and their community, I was profoundly disturbed to see how little progress has
been made. Four months after the hurricanes there is still no electricity in
some areas, there are only 2 of 9 hospitals operational; only one public school
has reopened; and 300,000 homes remain uninhabitable. The bankrupt city of New
Orleans has laid off 3,000 city employees — police, fire fighters, teachers,
medical personnel and city employees needed to provide inspections and permits
for those trying to rebuild, creating an impasse that has prevented most from
reclaiming their homes and their businesses. Four months before the next
hurricane season begins, the government has yet to rebuild the levies or
establish a rational urban plan that considers the need to restore wetlands and
flood planes to ameliorate the effects of future storms. The mismanagement of
this crisis is a reflection of the greater issue of economic justice with which
we, as a nation, must grapple.

Where are
today’s prophetic voices, challenging us to speak up in the face of injustice,
waking us from our comfortable indifference? Where are the visionaries to demand
a society in which the flood waters raise all of our boats, rather than drown
the poor and the weak? What would Dr. King or Rabbi Heschel or Moses do, if they
were with us today? Where would they lead us?

On this
Shabbat, let us be inspired by Moses, Rabbi Heschel and Dr. King — who, despite
their flaws, their doubts and insecurities, were unable to witness injustice and
do nothing; who found strength in moral indignation and who heard God’s call to
action. As Ruth Messinger, one of the honorees are our recent Biennial
convention said, it is time for us to become the leaders we are waiting for. Let
us have the audacity to be today’s prophets, to be true partners in our ancient
covenant with God L’taken et Haolam — to repair of our broken world. If not us, who? And
if not now,
when?