Are Our Stories Enough? Yes, And! (MLK Day)

Last Sunday, curled up on the couch, eating Ben & Jerry’s frozen yogurt, watching the Golden Globes, I had a mini-existential crisis.

It all started off fine. There were great stories and moving speeches. And, as always, those actors and directors who gave a glimpse into their story and their truth gave me chills and warmed my heart.

But then, there were a few jarring moments. Where there were impressive women talking about their role models and their dreams for equality, there were men making unscripted, chauvinistic comments from the microphone stand. And there were the all-too-real jokes from hosts and presenters about the major problems that still persist.

And when, Transparent started winning awards, and I inexplicably felt stuck. Transparent, for those who don’t know, is a new series from Amazon about Maura Pfefferman, a family patriarch who comes out to the family about identifying as a woman.

Yes, on the one hand, I was moved and inspired. How amazing is it that we have reached a time in our history where a show about a transgender person not only airs, but achieves enough acclaim to win two major awards. Even ten years ago, that fact would be unthinkable. Jeffrey Tambor and Director Jill Soloway gave powerful speeches about the importance of hearing the stories of transgender people and the hope that they can live in safety and openness in our society.

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And, on the other hand, as they spoke, I thought about the fact that there are 32 states (New York included) where there are no employment protections based on gender identity. So, in nearly 2/3s of the states, a person could be fired for being transgender or for being perceived as being transgender. And there are 36 states where there are no hate crimes protections based on gender identity.

So, with my own dangerous blend of neuroticism and curiosity, I wondered: is the story about Transparent’s victories enough? Is it enough to say that we are proud, excited, and inspired by a transgender character moving toward the mainstream? Is it enough that we can celebrate the progress we have made? The answer has to be: yes, and.

Yes: we can find in that story a message of hope. Yes: a person who may feel unheard and alone may find even a modicum of comfort. Yes: we can be inspired by the tremendous strides taken by this country over the last few decades.

And: this story can cause a greater awareness. And: It can encourage us to ask what we can to do keep progressing forward. And: I believe the story of Transparent’s victories will be at its best if it inspires more change and greater acceptance.

And, while I went through this process during the commercial break, in true rabbinical student fashion, I began to think about our stories. We are getting into the thick of our Exodus narrative this week. In parshat Va’eira, God tells Moses to tell the children of Israel:

וְהוֹצֵאתִי אֶתְכֶם מִתַּחַת סִבְלֹת מִצְרַיִם 

I will bring you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians, and I will deliver you from their bondage, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm, and with great judgments; and I will take you to be my people, and I will your God; and you shall know that I am the Eternal your God, who brought you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians.

This is our story! This story, in particular, is so important, that, next week, when the portion tells about fleeing from Egypt, we read: והגדת לבנך. And on that day you shall tell your children this story. We haven’t even left, let alone packed our bags, and already God commands us to teach our children about the Exodus.

This is the story we tell around our seder table. This is the story that has inspired hundreds of generations. It gives us our foundational narrative and calls us to ask ourselves what we will do with this freedom. So, I ask: is the story of the exodus enough? The answer has to be: yes, and.

Yes: this story binds the people of Israel to one another. Yes: This story binds the people of Israel to God. Yes: this story delivers a timeless, archetypal narrative about moving from a place of constriction and suffering to one of openness, freedom, and joy. This story stirs us at our core. It informs our identity and gives us hope that when we find ourselves in a narrow place, we can hope for relief.

And, at its best, this story does more than that. And, our tradition uses this story to call us to action. Just a few chapters down the road, we read (Exodus 23:9):

.וְגֵר, לֹא תִלְחָץ; וְאַתֶּם, יְדַעְתֶּם אֶת-נֶפֶשׁ הַגֵּר--כִּי-גֵרִים הֱיִיתֶם, בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם

You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt.

Our story, at its best, is a story that calls us to empathy and calls us to action. The story tells us: yes. God redeemed you from Egypt. And, because God redeemed you, you must be an agent of further redemption in the world. And, just in case it is not clear what the message of the Exodus narrative is, this commandment to welcome the stranger is found 36 times throughout Torah.

Our story is moving and inspiring, and it is at its best when it actually makes us move and when it inspires us to action.

And, when we are at our best, that is what we do. We take up this call to action and put it at the center of our communal and religious life. And, we do not limit our action to our own community. We take our obligation to be agents of redemption as a global call to ensure the rights and freedoms of all peoples.

The Jewish story from the 1960s and 70s tells of brave men and women who stood up for the rights of other people. Not because they stood to gain from it, but because the stories they had been taught built the moral scaffolding that led to the holy work of being engaged in the struggle for civil rights.

This year, we recall the 50th anniversary of the march on Selma. Many of you might be familiar with the image of Abraham Joshua Heschel marching with Dr. King (sandwiched in between them, you will also see Maurice Eisendrath, former president of the UAHC and founder of the Religious Action Center in DC. He delivered the invocation at the conclusion of the march.). But, how many of you have heard of St. Augustine? In 1964, amidst the effort to pass the Civil Rights Act (drafted in the Religious Action Center’s library) in an attempt to desegregate St. Augustine, Florida, which boasted itself as “America’s oldest city,” Dr. King was worried about losing steam. He called his colleague, Rabbi Israel Dresner, who was at the meeting of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, and said: “We need you down here with as many rabbis as you can bring with you!”

So, on June 18, 1964, 17 people (16 rabbis and one lay leader) went down to St. Augustine and were arrested while trying to integrate a lunch counter. During the night they spent in jail, the rabbis penned an incredibly powerful letter called: Why We Went:

“Because we realized that injustice in St. Augustine, as anywhere else, diminishes the humanity of each of us. We came as Jews who remember the millions of faceless people who stood quietly, watching the smoke rise from Hitler’s crematoria. We came because we know that, second only to silence, the greatest danger to man is loss of faith in man’s capacity to act.”

To be a Reform Jew in America is to inherit this legacy. It is to hear this story and contemplate what it means to be a part of this history. Particularly now, as we celebrate the life and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, we give renewed voice to his struggle and retell stories of yearning and striving to obtain civil and social equality.

Just like our seder, Martin Luther King Jr. Day comes every year and asks us to tell stories of freedom and redemption. And again we ask: is it enough to have this story?

Yes. And, I think we have to be cautious. We could fall into a trap. Tina Fey joked during the opening of the Golden Globes: “The movie Selma is about the American Civil Right Movement that totally worked and now everything is fine.” But, of course, it’s not all fine. We can’t just rest on the laurels of past success. And, when Common and John Legend went up to the stage to receive the award for best original song, Glory, in the movie Selma, they reminded us that the work of achieving equality in this country is not done, and asked us how we will respond.

And, just like our Torah takes our story of redemption and asks us to be agents of redemption in our own right; MLK Day has become a day of national service. At the time when we commemorate the story of Dr. King, a man who struggled to improve the lives of all of the people around him, we asks ourselves what we can do to improve the lives of those around us.

V’higad’ta l’bincha. When we look to our secular calendar or to the values and traditions of our faith, what are the stories we are going to tell our children? How will our stories stir them? What will it inspire within them? And, what will we they do because of the stories we tell?