This summer, I found myself in rural Georgia alongside dozens of
other people of all races, religions and ethnicities who marched
together for justice. This was “America’s Journey for Justice,” a forty
day, 1,000 mile journey from Selma, Alabama, to Washington, D.C.,
sponsored by the NAACP. As I marched, carrying the Torah safely in my
arms, I heard the stories of racial injustice and prejudice that my
fellow travelers endured. I prayed that the Torah’s words of justice
and righteousness would impel us all to create a better tomorrow.
After returning from Georgia, I realized that I must do something to
heal the rifts and the cracks in our world. I decided to preach about
my experience at the High Holy Days, sharing my journey as well as the
stories I heard during my time in the South. This was a good start, but
in my heart of hearts, I knew that marching and preaching were not
enough. We as a Jewish community could and must do more.
I decided to reach out to Pastor Victor Lewis of the Friendship
Baptist Church of Roslyn, a predominately African-American church just
minutes from my synagogue. Over the years, our two houses of worship
have joined together for musical programs and debated theological
differences in various lectures. As Pastor Lewis, Rabbi Michael White
and I sat down to talk, we recognized that it was only now, after years
of friendship, that we could truly discuss issues of deep significance
to our various communities. Our relationship, built upon honesty and
trust, allowed each of us to speak openly and candidly about the
prejudice, discrimination and fears we each faced.
After months of preparation, our two communities came together for a
discussion entitled “Walking in Each Other’s Shoes.” Pastor Lewis
opened and spoke candidly about the day he taught his teenage son how to
drive. Right before he handed over the keys for the first time, he
taught his son step-by-step how he must act when the police pulled him
over. Pastor Lewis told his son to call him right away and put the
phone on speaker, so that he could listen to the entire conversation.
He reminded his son to put both of his hands on the wheel so that the
police could see him clearly and won’t be worried that he’d have
something in his hands. And he should politely answer, “No sir, or yes
sir.” Hopefully that would be enough to prevent anything from happening
to him. The room was silent, many totally in shock of the fears our
neighbors live with each and every day.
What followed was truly remarkable. Members of our two faith
communities gathered in groups of eight around round tables to share
their own stories about prejudice, racism and discrimination. We
listened to one another and shared ways that we could come together in
the future to help build upon these conversations and create a world of
justice and righteousness.
In the wilderness, the Israelites joined together to build the Mishkan,
a home for the Holy One. As the Book of Exodus teaches: “Let them make
me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.” Our conversation that
evening was only the beginning, but all of us in the room recognized
that we had begun to build a sanctuary together. When our hearts, minds
and souls are truly present, we can become one and work together to
build a community of fairness, of justice and of hope.
