"To be a teacher in the right sense is to be a learner.  I am not a teacher, only a fellow student."  (Soren Kierkegaard)

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A FEW PRE-SHABBAT WORDS FROM RABBI AARON

Unclean! Unclean! - Keep Your Distance!
The haunting cry of the leper, the hideous and twisted facial expression, the gnarled limbs, onlookers; frightened and still drawn to the spectacle, like moths to the flame. Others, scurrying away, repulsed and terrified.  

Twenty+ years ago, I remember walking in Manhattan, taking in the scene, homeless beggars, stricken with AIDS, passersby clearing a wide berth, avoiding eye contact. Fear of contagion connects to some deeply hard-wired avoidance responses. Throughout history: black plague, polio, AIDS, swine flu - to name a few.

Let's take a step back from the literal, and consider an abstract understanding of contagion. What makes a society marginalize a particular group, treating them as dangerous or suspect? Notice how demagogues can effectively push our FEAR buttons as they describe the undesirable group as unnatural, abnormal, predatory, vicious, animal, parasitic. 

From afar, we cringe at the brutality and violence that cut down Hutus and Tutsis, but something curious happens when we hear friends or acquaintances subconsciously marginalize  "the other" much closer to home. There's a change in the voice [tone, volume] or body language when the outside [different from us] individual or group is being described. 

Who is the "other"?
Sometimes it's a conversation about African Americans. You may recall the comedy performance "Jewtopia" performed several months ago at the JCC. Among the assorted jokes was a joke about "shvartzes" - I no longer can recall the words. But I can easily recall the vibe in the air, the nervous laughter, the split-second sensation of "where exactly is this thing going, and why are we laughing at this, and - what if some people in the audience tonight ARE African American...then what?"  It was a remarkable moment. It was quite shameful. Had the High Priest heard it, he might have cordoned off the room for a week at the very least.

Sometimes it's a conversation about Muslims, as in "bad Muslim, terrorist Arab, can't trust a single one"; as in, "you know their whole religion is just about hatred." Funny (not really) how those conversations sound like close cousins to words spouted by Jew-haters the world over.

Sometimes it's about gay people. Sometimes it's about Hispanic people. When people are angry and frustrated - and many Americans find themselves angry and frustrated - some people become unglued, and they lash out at those who are different from them. Sometimes it's (only) ugly words, and sometimes it's raw violence, the desire to hurt or to kill.

The surface reading of the Torah text is not easy in terms of finding cultural resonance, but if we take in the cultural big picture we might find ourselves uncomfortably familiar with the notion of cordoning off the alien [legal or otherwise]. Dig beneath the text, search beyond the details of skin eruptions and discoloration - there are serious questions we should ask - about who we push to the sidelines, and what drives us to erase the other. The sprinkling of holy water is not going to bring the cure. Some unflinching standing before the mirror would mark the start of a path toward shalom - wholeness.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Aaron