Yom Kippur

    Good Yontif. We gather here once a year to fast and pray and beat our chests and stand as a community to cleanse our souls. We stand as our ancestors stood at Sinai, and as they stood before Moses throughout much of the rest of the Torah and their wandering through the wilderness. The words I read from the Torah today, “Atem Nitzavim Hayom Kulchem” translate to, “You are all standing here today,” and then Moses goes on to explain to all the people of Israel how they are equal in access and in responsibility. The Torah belongs to all of them, to cherish and to guide their lives, and for them to care for and obey. All stood together to receive it, and now they all stand together to embrace it as they are about to enter the Promised Land.

    The word “nitzavim,” however is not the usual Hebrew word for standing. The common word is Omed or you may recognize the variation Amidah, as we sometimes call the core set of blessings we stand through. So why “nitzavim” here? Rabbi Nelly Altenburger suggests that where Omed has the connotation of standing casually, implied to move at any moment, nitzavim means to stand firm or to be stuck in one spot. Standing firm could be a good thing. It is important to stand by one’s principles. But to be stuck in one spot is another thing entirely. Sometimes we get rooted to a spot, and stick firm to it simply because change is scary. If we are nitzavim, are we ready to do teshuvah, to return? Returning requires movement, and a swallowing of the pride and fear that has led us astray in the first place. But the root for teshuvah, “shuv,” returning, appears in the Parashat Nitzavim 7 times, which allows us to have hope that even when we feel rooted, we are able to make necessary changes. After all, trees are rooted, and they are able to bend and sway in the wind. To withstand this world, that’s what it takes.

    Altenburger then offers three obstacles or excuses that often stand in the way of doing teshuvah to those that are nitzavim: “This is who I am”, “I was raised this way,” and “Change is too much work.” Our great rabbi of the 12 century, Maimonides, tells us that certain personality traits are innate, while others are learned. He also hints at the idea the the Musar teachers I spoke about on Rosh HaShanah took a bit further: that every disposition has an equal and opposite disposition, and none of us are very good at holding moderate or balanced traits. He does suggest, however, that we can temper these traits through careful self-reflection and hard work. In his own way, Maimonides taught the path to the Middle Way, as the Buddha would call it. That it is possible to train one’s body to only desire what it truly needs, to study and meditate and look inward to find true meaning and spiritual sustenance, and in doing so we can find the equilibrium in our temperaments in order to ease the difficulties of change. Though this in itself requires change, and is difficult, it is the most important first step to learning to avoid other missteps that will cause real harm to ourselves or others. As will all things we confess to on Yom Kippur, these truths can apply on a personal scale, a communal scale, and a worldwide scale.

This year, the U.S. has accepted the lowest number of refugees than it has in 40 years. According to the UN, there are more than 65 million refugees in the world, fleeing from war, famine, drought, other natural disasters, and genocide. Historically, the U.S. has had the highest rates of refugee resettlement in the world, and I know many of us in this room would not be here if our parents, grandparents, or great-grandparents were not granted asylum here when fleeing from the pogroms or the Holocaust or any other number of events in history that created Jewish refugees. Now, as the cap is cut by more than half, it remains to be seen if we can wear that badge of honor this year.

    There may be many reasons not to accept refugees, reflecting Altenburger’s boulders to change

“This is who I am” - this first boulder does not have to be true, but it’s certainly not untrue. Accepting refugees has been a part of who America was at times in history, and turning them away to almost certain death has also been who America was at times. This was who America was when the Asiatic Barred Zone Act prohibited any and all immigration from the entire Asian continent, including the Middle East, India, and many of the Pacific Islands. This was who America was when it turned back the St. Louis. But it's not who America was when it let in my great-grandparents fleeing from the czar and it’s not who it was even last year, when it allowed nearly four times as many refugees as the next leading countries.  

“This is how I was raised” - this is very similar to the first boulder. The founding of this nation was very much built on exclusionary practices, limiting or controlling the immigrations and settlements of certain populations, only allowing rights to certain types of people. But again, this has not always been who we are and it doesn’t have to be who we are in the future. The founders were also seeking religious and financial freedom, and established a set of law that allowed itself to be amended to the changing times in which we live. That is what has enabled us to be the light of peace to so many refugees in recent years. These limitations may be reflective of certain points of our history, but they don’t have to be the embodiment of American values.

“Change is hard”  - any and all change is hard. The more diverse America becomes, the more new customs people have to adapt to. The more crowded our cities get, the more certain other populations see displacement. Resettlement of populations is expensive and complicated and takes a lot of work from a lot of people, including but not limited to those seeking new lives. But this is all also true of young white middle class professionals moving into Flatbush and Oakland and Anacostia. People move. Populations integrate. This has been true since the first homo sapiens and the neanderthals interacted and has continued to be true through every epoch in history, though the ease of and reasons for migration of course have been varied greatly in each period and for each population.

And of course, none of these standard obstacles to change actually address the main reason for limiting refugees and immigrants: fear. Whether caused by xenophobia or serious concerns for security, there is a lot of fear around letting in masses of new people. But the reality is that refugees are the most vetted people in the country. Obviously more so than those born and raised here, and often more so than than even other immigrants or visitors. They are thoroughly screened before being resettled into new places and only allowed in if they can be determined to pose no danger. Though fear is legitimate feeling and cannot simply be brushed off, the reality is, refugees are really not a threat to us. Barring them is a threat to our values. This is why organizations like HIAS exist. HIAS used to be known as the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society and had been known for a tagline, “We used to help refugees because they were Jews. Now we do it because we are Jews.” Since they now work with so many immigrants and refugees who are not “Hebrews”, they exclusively go by their acronym these days. Their current mission statement is “Guided by Jewish values and experience, HIAS is working to address the global refugee crisis.  We protect refugees and displaced persons throughout the world, helping them to build new lives in safety and with dignity. Why? Because as long as there are still places where it is a crime to be who you are, we have a mandate to be who we are.” They help provide information for people and communities who are unsure of where to stand on the refugee crises and they offer material aid to the refugees seeking asylum through resettlement help here in this country, legal assistance and care for those awaiting admittance into the country from international refugee camps, and they provide tools for advocacy and policy changes to help keep the U.S. refugee-friendly.

We as American Jews who know what it is to be kicked out of nearly every country and who have found safe haven in the U.S. can be among the nitzavim - standing firm in our values for equality, for welcoming the stranger, for seeing their inherent value in every human life. We can also be fomed - on our feet ready to move for practical changes that allow for us to better live out our Jewish values.

This Yom Kippur, as we cleanse our souls, forgive those who trespass against us and hope they do the same for us, let us open our doors and our hearts further to others. May this be a year of health and safety, freedom and dignity to all people, in our community, in our country, in our world. Amen and g’mar chatimah tovah.