Sunday, December 23, 2012

Responding to Sandy Hook



December 22, 2012

            Eight days have passed. There still are no words to describe the sense of loss and emptiness, of unimaginable pain, and there never will be. A hurricane or tornado takes lives, and words like ‘tragedy’, ‘random’, ‘negligent’ and ‘inexplicable’ spring to mind. Drought gives way to famine somewhere in the world, and we speak about government corruption and ineptitude. Monks set themselves on fire in Tibet, and we speak about desperation and admire their struggle against an oppressive, persecuting regime. Civilians die in Syria, and it’s far enough away that we see their deaths as the devastating but necessary cost of their fight for freedom against a butcher, son of butchers. All these are tragedies, but tragedies that almost have a purpose. But this, this has no purpose. And it’s happened before, and it will probably happen again.
            The day of the Columbine shootings, Rick Barger, the Lutheran minister in Littleton, Colorado, spent the day as a victim’s assistant. His was the first face many of the students saw as they fled the building. Thirteen years later, he still carries those teens with him. He was interviewed frequently by the press in the early days following the shooting, and, whenever people asked about where God was that day, he would say, “God took a bullet and died in halls of Columbine.” [1] That the murdered in Sandy Hook were so young, and their deaths so brutal, makes it worse.
            Though we sometimes express it in different language, Jews and Christians share the belief that each and every human being is created in the image and likeness of God.[2] The phrase, ‘image and likeness’ is more ancient than the Torah and more potent than even our sages suggest. In recent years, scholars have discerned that, ‘Image and likeness,’ is the Akkadian way of describing a manifestation of God in this world. They used the phrase to describe the icon or statue of the god placed above an altar. The innovation of our Bible is to apply that phrase, image and likeness, to each and every human being.[3] Suddenly we understand why the first commandment in the Torah is p’ru ur’vu – be fruitful and multiply. Bring children into the world, nurture children, teach them, raise them to attain their destiny, and you have made God that much more real, that much more present. No other mitzvah gets the same amount of attention; story after story in Genesis and the first part of Exodus emphasizes the point that people of faith are to value having and raising children above almost everything else. One message of the Binding of Isaac, as it is written, is that even God, who requires all sorts of sacrifices on the part of the faithful, will never, ever ask for the death of our children. If you think you’re hearing God ask for the death of a child, the Torah tells us, you are the one who is mistaken.
            So, yes, as President Obama said on Sunday night, America finds the presence of God among those adults who heroically gave their lives to try to protect the children at Sandy Hook Elementary and among the emergency workers and first responders who put their own needs aside to deal with the carnage and serve the living. Yet as after every pointless, violent death, after Sandy Hook, we are also experiencing a diminishment of God’s presence. Our sages teach in the Talmud that one who saves one life is as if he has preserved an entire world; but who causes one life to be lost is considered as if he has destroyed an entire world. These children and their teachers haven’t been called back to God; God didn’t need any more angels, nor was he protecting them from a worse future; I can’t imagine a better place for a six-year-old than a first grade classroom. Rather, they are dead because they were in the right place, at the right time, when a man came by with big guns that held far too many bullets and committed a heinous mass murder.
            I hope you’ve joined in the international effort to try to console the bereaved. Vigils and prayer services are important ways to support those who are struggling to survive traumatic loss. By all means sign condolence cards that are circulating online, send flowers and contributions and acknowledge the grief of the bereaved. Nihum aveilim – comforting the bereaved – is a central practice of hesed, of love, and an important mitzvah. It brings strength and reassurance to those who receive comfort, reward to those who give it and hope to its witnesses. Please, please comfort the grieving: just don’t stop there. Confronting this event forces us to look inwards as well – although the details of his story are still emerging and probably will never be completely clarified, the one thing we know about Adam Lanza is that he, like us, was a human being. And that should be terrifying.
            Many in recent days have pointed to the breakdown of mental health care in the United States during and since the Reagan years. Many of us know of parents who wrestle with the challenges of raising children who have psychiatric disorders that predispose them to violent and abusive behavior. The resources for education and healing simply aren’t available… at least anywhere outside of the prison system. I believe I heard Alan Chartock this week crack that the core of the problem might be that mental hospitals don’t have alumni associations to fund them.[4] Families in this congregation have been affected and continue to be affected every day by people with mental illness – few of whom are as dangerous as Adam Lanza turned out to be – but all of whom require more care than is easily available to them.
            Valuing care for those who live with mental illness requires a significant amount of compassion - sharing in the suffering of another. That’s a hard thing for many people to do with respect to people with mental illness. Our tradition offers us a way to access that compassion by placing all of us on two continua: one regarding the yetzer hara, the other regarding the yetzer hatov, both innate forces in every single individual’s personality. The yetzer hara is what motivates each of us to serve ourselves – it is selfish, demanding and wily, tricking us into choices that benefit only ourselves even when we think we are being generous and fair. And its counterpart, just as innate though it usually emerges later, is the yetzer hatov, the part of our psyche that motivates us to serve each other and the greater good. The relative strength of each varies from person to person, yet, those engaged in the spiritual life seek to teach the yetzer hara boundaries and nurture the yetzer hatov in themselves, their students and their loved ones. Each yetzer grows only to the extent that we exercise it, and each becomes less powerful as we hold it back.[5]
            We find that place of compassion when we realize that a person whose yetzer hara is dominant and yetzer hatov is deficient should not be ostracized. Rather that is exactly the person who might benefit most from repeated, sensitive attempts to grow in character. Although some small percentage of human beings might be incapable of getting there, there are many people for whom such learning is difficult but not impossible. Although our sages affirm that it is the individual’s responsibility to choose life, each of us has innumerable opportunities to influence that decision in others. People who live with mental illness – diagnosed and undiagnosed, managed and unmanaged, medicated and unmedicated – are not that different from the rest of us; neither we nor our society are exempt from responsibility.
            The scarcity of effective mental health care is, however, just one of two themes that has captured attention in the wake of the murders in Sandy Hook. Reasonable people are looking at this as the latest in a disturbing series of incidents of gun violence against the public. And in particular, we are frustrated with the easy availability of assault weapons, whose sole purpose is to enable people to kill other people, as quickly and as conclusively as possible; the accessibility of guns and ammunition, without background checks, on the web and at gun shows; the lack of computerized tracking of gun purchases; and the prevalence of high-capacity magazines in civilian homes and hands. In the context of biblical values shared by the vast majority of Americans, this risk to walking image-and-likenesses of God, is perplexing.
            But in the context of American democracy, the veneration of the second amendment and of guns is completely incomprehensible. Frontier fantasies aside, Americans don’t actually live in John Wayne movies. We don’t resolve disputes by pulling out guns; may the biggest gun win. We live in a country with laws. We resolve disputes by going to court and arguing about them, then abiding by the judge’s ruling, which, in turn, we have a right to appeal. We deal with policy issues by electing representatives to local, state and federal government office and holding them accountable. And we rely, at least in theory, on the democratic principle of one person, one vote – not the violence principle: biggest gun wins argument.
            In many quarters of our country, gun culture has strayed into idolatry. I’m not referring to people who keep one handgun in a secure gun safe to use in self-defense (though that’s probably not a rational decision, given the statistics), nor to most of the people who hunt or shoot for sport on gun ranges. However the positions taken by the NRA, the Gun Owners of America and similar groups on the primacy of the Second Amendment over every other freedom – including, apparently, the inalienable rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness – are the very definition of idolatry: the supplanting of our core values by trust in the gun.[6] Read Wayne LaPierre’s statement carefully and parse out his argument; you will find that he and his organization put their faith in guns. You won’t find that in Jewish scripture. You won’t find it in the Gospels or the Pauline letters. And it’s not the American way either.
            I actually understand how people could stake out a religious and ideological position to trust in guns; I don’t think they are monsters or aliens. Life is anxiety-provoking and unpredictable, especially when you meditate on the horrors that people commit against each other and the many ways we have created to exterminate ourselves and each other. There are many ways to cope with that uncertainty, and among the most tempting is to think there is a way we can defend ourselves against all threats and exercise complete control over our lives. There’s a reason biblical teachings on idolatry often employ the language of seduction – full control over our lives is tempting, desirable and ultimately an illusion.
Some people, overwhelmed by anxiety and fear, and seeking control, want to carry their guns everywhere – on their commute to work, to defend against an imagined road rage incident; at the office, in case a coworker gets out of control; into government buildings and courtrooms, lest a lunatic show up; and into churches and schools so that those who would think about acts of violence there will be guaranteed to get shot down first.
But just because so many have chosen this path doesn’t make it right, smart or wise. Its fallacy is in its false distinction of self from other; who’s to say that the other is the threat, and that I am not? Furthermore, no gun, no matter how powerful, works as a foolproof amulet against evil forces. Only as worshippers of idols do we, in our anxiety, turn to weapons as a sure defense against the chaos. As Americans, we ought to believe that the democratic process helps more than guns do; as people of faith, we turn our hearts to prayer, our minds to the yetzer hatov and our hands to mitzvah and acts of lovingkindness.
            We will have many opportunities to study and explore many facets of this issue over the next few months – among them will be a service in commemoration of the national Sabbath against gun violence on January 5. And we already have innumerable opportunities to take action. Hugging our children and then getting on with life without hearing some call is just not acceptable… The paralyzing illusion of powerlessness a manifestation of the yetzer hara. We need to put that voice in its place and listen instead to the yetzer hatov that insists that gratitude for our lives, there but for the grace of God, demands that we give freely of ourselves. Acting to transform our community and our society is what will bring us the greatest joy.
Please raise your hands: who contacted President Obama, Vice-President Biden, Senator Kerry, Senator-elect Warren, Representative Neal or a state legislator this week? I’ll ask that question again next week… One letter won’t be enough to keep our government, prone to inaction and gridlock, moving in the right direction. Is there anyone here who won’t write another letter in the week to come, to help keep up the momentum, attention and energy? President Obama said that the public would have to keep on top of these issues in order to keep Congress in motion; we can do this – it’s never been easier to write a Congressman than it is today. We must stand up for the principles we share, for the values that make us Jews and unite us as Americans and, in so doing, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity.
            As we reflect on how we go about finding tranquility in our unpredictable world, we hold in mind the blessing of the psalmist:

            Happy are they who find refuge in You, pathways in their hearts.
            Though they pass through the Valley of Tears,
            They regard it as a place of springs,
            As if the early rain had covered it with a blessing.[7]

            With God’s help, may our tears mingle with the tears of all the bereaved to nourish the growth of a better world.
***
I then read a prayer written by Rabbi Naomi Levy and recited the names of those murdered on Friday, December 14, in Newtown, before we continued with prayers for our country and peace.




[1] Rick Barger, Book Review of Jim Atwood, America and Its Guns: A Theological Exposé, The Alban Institute, 2012. www.alban.org.
[2] Genesis 1:27.
[3] See Benjamin Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel (New York, Cambridge University Press, 2009).
[4] Dr. Alan Chartock, CEO of Northeast Public Radio, local NPR station for the Berkshires.
[5] See Rabbi Ira Stone’s commentary on R. Moshe Hayyim Luzzatto, Mesillat Yesharim (Philadelphia: JPS, 2010).
[6] For more on guns and idolatry, see Rick Barger’s article and the book it reviews, cited above #1.
[7] Psalm 84:5-6.