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Sermon:  Politics and Religion and Senator Obama and Reverend Wright
Rabbi Jonathan Miller
Temple Emanu-El
Birmingham, Alabama
March 28, 2008—22 Adar II, 5768
 
It is reported in the Talmud, that Rabbi Yehuda haNassi wept when he learned this incontrovertible fact: while the righteous must work for seventy years to gain their Olam Haba, their portion in the World to Come, the wicked can gain their Olam Haba, their eternal portion in only a moment.
 
Is it really so?  Can a single moment of repentance by the wicked weigh the same on the divine scales of judgment as a lifetime of good deeds?  Well, yes, according to our sages, that is indeed the case.  That is why the famed and righteous rabbi wept.  But the contrary is true, also.  A moment of wickedness can destroy the accrued merit of a lifetime of good deeds.
 
As we watch this crazy campaign unfold for the President of the United States, we realize that Rabbi Yehudah haNassi’s maxim seems to hold greater truth for those candidates for public office than for us ordinary folks.  Who in their right mind would put themselves through this grueling ordeal?  A person can labor a lifetime for the public good, and a misstatement about the past, an error in judgment, a youthful indiscretion, or a misconstrued phrase can destroy a person’s work, a person’s dreams, and a person’s hopes.  We know God to be forgiving even as He is the master of judgment.  But the chatter class, the punditry—they are relentless.  They have no forgiveness.  They are only judgment.
 
This past week, it was Senator Obama’s turn before the glare of the lights of the “gotchya” crowd.  His association with Reverend Jeremiah Wright and his membership at the Trinity United Church of Christ was plastered all over America.  Only those hibernating did not see the continuous loop of Reverend Wrights intemperate and kooky comments.  And the chatter class brought Senator Obama to the precipice and asked him to dance a jig, hoping that he might make a misstep and fall off the cliff.  Instead, the Senator surprised them all by turning his political travail into a moment of thoughtful reflection for the nation at large.  He used the opportunity to reach out across the lines that divide us as Americans and gave an insightful and compelling speech.  He pulled himself back from the precipice by appealing to the truths about race relations in America.  Tonight, as I promised, I will comment on the speech.  But before I do, I want to make some important caveats.
 
I am here to teach Torah and you are here to learn Torah.  You have not come to the synagogue to here me opine about politics.  There is precious little that I can add to the non-stop 24 hour a day punditry that accosts us on the TV, radio, in the newspapers and on the internet.  I will not analyze who is up and who is down and who is going to win and who is going to loose and whether this is good or bad for our country for whatever the reasons.  And even though I said at the outset that Senator Obama’s speech was compelling, and I will share with you why it resonated with me, in no way do I want you to construe my comments tonight as an endorsement of his candidacy.  You get the same vote that I get, and I hope that you will make up your own minds on which candidate will be the best for our nation’s security, our economy, our health and our well-being.  You decide for yourselves.  Trust me, a good speech giver is not always the best policy maker.  But you know that too.
 
Tonight I am also going to break one of my cardinal rules about preaching.  I am going to tell you in advance exactly what I am going to talk about.  I hope to take the mystery out of these few minutes and give you a precise roadmap.  Reflecting on the Obama-Wright controversy, I will speak to you about four things:  being a religious leader, being a congregant, telling a story, and coming to a common understanding:
 
1.  BEING A RELIGIOUS LEADER:
 
It is not an easy job to be a preacher.  Every week, we are encouraged to come up with new messages on old themes.  My personal panic begins every Monday, “Uh oh, what am I doing this coming Shabbat?”  Sometimes our messages are inspired, sometimes they are tedious, and sometimes they are mundane, and sometimes, sometimes they are stupid.  I had never heard of Reverend Jeremiah Wright until this brouhaha began.  And I found that a lot of his words, which played over and over again, were either coated in anger or were simply stupid, and at times were even crazy.
 
We preachers can be an impassioned bunch.  Sometimes our passions obscure our abilities to think clearly.  We preachers are prone to exaggeration and bombast to make our points.  If I were given the opportunity, I would love to have the ability to take back, or redo, or restate so many of the things I have said on this pulpit.  I would hate to have a record of everything I said shown to me months and years later.  So often, when I look back on my past messages, I say, “What could I have possibly been thinking when I said that dumb thing?”  And this has to be particularly true in the African American preaching tradition, with the call and response freewheeling non scripted spiritual messages that emanate from their pulpits.  Sometimes the preachers can get carried away by their crowd.
 
And my friends, you are human too.  Are there not things that you have said or wrote at some times in your life that you wish you could take back?  Are there not things that may have had an element of truth in them, but when they left your mouths, you realize that you made a mistake?  Have strangers not heard your words and taken them out of context?  Have loved ones not heard your words and misconstrued your meaning?  Are there not words and thoughts and deeds too, that you wish you could redo because you spoke with too much certainty or too much passion or too much anger?  I have never met Reverend Wright or read anything about him beyond what is known in recent days.  He is not my cup of tea, and I myself disagree with those words that have been played over and over again.  But I believe the man is more than the eight-second continuous loop we hear on CNN or Fox news.  Lord knows, he is certainly not my favorite guy, but he is certainly more complex than what we have been shown.  And Lord knows, we too are all more complex than the way people see us, particularly if they measured us in ten second sound bites.
 
2.  BEING A CONGREGANT
 
It is fascinating to learn why people belong to congregations.  The latest studies by the Union for Reform Judaism show that most people belong to congregations because of the congregants and the community it offers.  People come to worship and they come to study and they come to do mitzvoth and they come to be with each other.  The rabbis and the cantors and the educators are all important.  But rarely, rarely do people ever leave congregations because of their clergy.  To expect Barack Obama and his family to leave Trinity United Church of Christ because he sometimes disagrees with his pastor and finds his language intemperate and sometimes even repulsive is, believe it or not, expecting a lot.
 
About ten years ago, I delivered a sermon on Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky.  I don’t remember what I said.  Standing in the receiving line, a long time Temple member came to me and said, “That was the most ridiculous sermon I have ever heard.”  I responded smartly, “If you think that is ridiculous, you should come to shul more often.”  Still, even though I was thought ridiculous, he hasn’t quit the Temple.  Why?  Because I have married and buried and counseled members of his family, and perhaps inspired him at other times.
 
My father, of blessed memory, was on the cutting edge of so many social issues.  During the ‘60s, he, without exaggeration, put his life on the line for civil rights in Mississippi and Alabama.   He spoke out for integrated schools and neighborhoods.  He was among the first to rail against the Vietnam War.  He took on the economic interests that oppressed the farm laborers and supported gays and lesbians long before it was acceptable to do so.  He was a firebrand.  And almost never did anyone drop out of the synagogues he served because they disagreed with him.  I would hear the moans and groans from the people who disagreed with my Dad, which was easy enough to do.  “Oh rabbi, there he goes again!”  But he was their rabbi.  They loved him and supported him, even if they thought him to be a little mishuga.
 
My father, of blessed memory, used to say to me, “Jonny, if you bury them and marry them and counsel them and teach them Torah, they will forgive almost anything you will say from the pulpit.  They will forgive bad preaching and they will forgive your occasionally nutty ideas.”  Why?  Because being a religious leader in a congregation is more about the relationship with the rabbi or priest or pastor than it is about the content of what is said on the pulpit.  So I am proud that the Senator did not quit his church, even though he repudiated his minister’s words.  I hope y’all would be as charitable to me, and to each other.
 
You know, we don’t walk out on our spouses when they say the occasional stupid thing.  We cut them some slack.  And they don’t walk out on us when we ourselves are moronic, or off our game.
 
3.  ABOUT TELLING A STORY
 
I found the most compelling part of Senator Obama’s speech to be when he told the narrative of the black men and women of my parents’ generation; how they grew up under Jim Crow segregation and how they suffered indignities and how the doors of opportunity were shut to them.  He told their story to explain the way many African Americans see their history in light of their unique American experience.  He didn’t attempt to make excuses or claim victimhood.  He just tried to explain to the white population the experience that many black Americans have.  Their experience is different from ours.  They have a different narrative in America.
 
But then, very astutely, he also explained the story of the white working class, and how they feel beaten up by globalization and racial preferences.  He didn’t attempt to judge them.  Instead, he explained to his listeners the experience that these working class whites had when they spoke honestly about their racial concerns in America.
 
As your rabbi, I have been working the fields of interfaith relations now for many years.  I have learned that the most urgent task is not to share our ideas and our customs with others.  This is the easier part of interfaith relations.  We pray on Shabbes and you pray on Sunday and you bow towards Mecca and we bow towards by Jerusalem.  We believe the Messiah has not yet come, and you believe that he is in the body of Jesus.  That is the easier part.  The harder part of interfaith relations is to tell the people not like us what it is like to be us.  The Jewish story is certainly different from the Muslim story or the Protestant story or the Catholic story.  And we each have our stories to tell.  And when we share our stories, we share ourselves in intimate and personal ways.  This is the most challenging part of my interfaith work.
 
In order for me to be able to tell others, non-Jews, the truth of my existence, I have to be willing to share and open myself up to others.  Storytelling, and story listening, require trust and honesty.  It is often very difficult to share our stories in ways that don't put other people on the defensive.  As Jews, we tread a delicate path when we speak about Israel, anti-Semitism, and especially the Holocaust.  How do we speak to our Christian neighbors without imposing upon them a measure of guilt for what their coreligionists perpetuated against us?  We want them to understand us, but not to feel guilty because of what others did to us.  The guilt dynamic, the victim dynamic, does not heal the pain of past injustice, not even a little bit.  We as Jews have to tell our stories truthfully, and sensitively.  And it is also important to be a story listener.  If we want to share our stories with others, we need to hear their stories too, and appreciate their experience in return.  We need to respect them and their faith, even as it differs from our own.  This delicate path is the only path to true understanding.
 
Senator Obama did us all a tremendous service for painting for whites a small portrait of the sad experience suffered by our African-American brothers and sisters.  And he shared with the African-American community the unique sensitivities of elements within the white community.  And he did it in such a way that the African-American community, and the white community, need not feel defensive.  I have learned that one person's pain, or one group's pain, does not diminish, mitigate, or explain another person’s pain, or another group's pain.  I applaud Senator Obama for speaking truth to whites and blacks in America about the reality of each other’s experiences.  He went beyond the politeness and the correctness and gave voice to the experiences each group has.  Coming together is all about telling our stories.
 
4.  ABOUT COMING TO A COMMON UNDERSTANDING
 
So how do we come to a common understanding with the other?  How do we, as Jews, come to appreciate Christians for their faith?  How do Christians, come to appreciate Jews for their faith?  In our fragmented society, how do whites come to appreciate blacks for the pain and the struggles they have endured?  And how do blacks come to appreciate the whites whom they formerly saw as their oppressors and the cause of their pain?  This is the most difficult and challenging piece of the puzzle.
 
Senator Obama challenged us to see each other in a co-dependent way.  Whites and blacks in America need each other, and should depend upon each other, to make our country better.  If our country is to be more just, more united, and more caring for all of its citizens, both the white and black community will benefit.  If we divide ourselves, we will be less able to fix the common problems and address the challenges that afflict our country.
 
The same is true in interfaith relations.  If we believe that God depends upon all of the faithful to perfect this imperfect world, then all of us will come together to do God's will -- each of us in our own way.  If we divide ourselves, our abilities to address our problems will be curtailed by our shortsightedness and our own parochial narrowness.  Religion, just like race relations, requires harmony, common vision, and a willingness to work together even as we maintain our distinctiveness.  The Jew does not have to become a Christian, and the Christian does not have to become a Jew; and the black does not have to become white, and neither does the white have to become black in order to work together for the common good.  We are each required to work from within our own traditions and our own experiences for the common good to make our world better tomorrow than it is today.
 
A FINAL LESSON TO CONCLUDE:
 
Politics are about the differences we have, and the election cycles accent our differences.  Of late, our politicians prance across the national stage highlighting all the ways that they are different from their opponents.  But we are one country.  And the politicians and the chatter class have to divide us into groups to get elected.
 
Religion is exactly the opposite.  We start with our differences.  These are differences that we maintain until the unfolding of God’s dominion.  But we are then commanded by our traditions and our hopes to work together to ameliorate our differences and work together in concert with others to bring the Kingdom of God to our troubled earth.  No faith group can do it alone.
From the Prophet Micah:
In the days to come,
The Mount of the LORD’s House shall stand
Firm above the mountains;
And it shall tower above the hills.
The peoples shall gaze on it with joy,
2And the many nations shall go and shall say:
“Come,
Let us go up to the Mount of the LORD,
To the House of the God of Jacob;
That He may instruct us in His ways,
And that we may walk in His paths.”
For instruction shall come forth from Zion,
The word of the LORD from Jerusalem.
3Thus He will judge among the many peoples,
And arbitrate for the multitude of nations,
However distant;
And they shall beat their swords into plowshares
And their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation shall not take up
Sword against nation;
They shall never again know war;
4But every man shall sit
Under his grapevine or fig tree
With no one to disturb him.
For it was the LORD of Hosts who spoke.
 
May it be God’s will that all of us will walk to God’s house, together in the name of the one God who made us.
 
Amen

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