The Rejects of Emor

Every so often I am asked to explain myself; how did I get here and why am I doing this work? How did I go from communist to rabbi?

Yesterday I saw a friend from 30 years ago. We spent the afternoon together and had a wonderful time reminiscing about the past, remembering the pain and the joy, and filling each other in on our lives and children as they have grown and unfolded.

Towards the end, this friend finally asked me, “So what inspired you on this path to become a rabbi?”

It was the question I was sort of dreading. I knew that my path towards religion was confounding to her, as it was to my mother and anyone else from my previous life.

How could I explain in a nutshell how something as problematic as “religion” and the Judaism that my friend—and that I and my own parents had rejected—could bring me so much joy and healing?

How does an ancient book like the Torah, with all its dreadful, sexist, racist stories and rules (don’t even get me started on Israel and its politics) give meaning to my life—a tribal religion based on a sacrificial system that has no meaning in our lives today?

Take, for example, this week’s parsha, Emor, with its rules for priestly purity and sacrifice; a priest can not “marry a woman defiled by harlotry,” nor a divorced woman; no “lame” man who has a defect (per translation) like being blind or with a shorter limb, broken leg or arm, hunchback, dwarf, is considered a full enough human being to make a sacrifice to God.

The same goes for animals: none with any defect or blemish is worthy of sacrifice.

They are all—both human and animal—rejects in God’s eyes.

But the worst is yet to come: “When a daughter of a priest defiles herself through harlotry,” she is to be burned to death, and a person who blasphemes God’s name is to be stoned to death.

This is the God my ancestors rejected.

And this is the way “ancients” lived, right?

We’re “moderns,” and we have all the answers, right? Especially those who call ourselves “progressives” or “liberals.” We’ve got it all figured out.

But are we? And do we?

What about the “lame” among us? Do we look at disabled people with pity? What expectations do we have of them? Are we respecting them through our laws? How much accessibility are we creating?

What is our attitude towards people who turn to prostitution in desperation?

Abortion was legalized in the U.S. only fifty years ago (when I was ten years old!), and strong political/religious forces are fighting hard to overturn this right.

Yet the same forces ignore rape and abuse and could care less about providing sustenance to families of young children, as lawmakers continually block legislation that could provide support.

Then there is this sudden, terrible shortage of baby formula. The monopoly that three huge formula companies have on the market, plus our market economy that allows for such monopolies, giving companies the ability to pay low wages and charge high prices, not only causes the problem, but exacerbates it.

While women shouldn’t be shamed for formula-feeding, and it’s true that some women can’t physically breastfeed, it’s also true that there’s a terrible shortage of support for women who would like to breastfeed. This is not to mention that the hospitals support the companies by notoriously sending women home from the hospital with “free” formula in spiffy little bags.

And doesn’t this all tie into our expectation that “all those mothers having all those babies they shouldn’t be having” also “shouldn’t be so lazy,” and should go to work—at minimum wage jobs that can’t pay their rising gas bills!—so even if they wanted to breastfeed, they can’t?

Yet the political/religious forces are forcing women to have the babies they don’t want to have, can’t afford, and can’t feed.

Aren't we still burning women alive, but in a different sense?

And how well do our schools address learning disabilities?

Do you still hear people (teachers included) call children lazy instead of wondering what’s getting in the way of their learning?

And how are we doing “respecting” other kinds of “rejects” of society?

How many homeless, drug-addicted, mentally ill people do you see on the street? (I live in New York City, and I see many more in the past two years). How’s our health care system handling this problem?

And how are we each doing in terms of our personal attitudes? Do we sneer at the drug addicts and prostitutes and think of them as “less than” so we can just walk on past and feel better about ourselves?

Do we use the excuse of blaming the parents who are the cause of the children being “messed up”?

Or do we have compassion for all involved, recognizing that the parents are victims who were once children too, and who, if only—if only—we as a society gave them the proper support—well, things would be different.

Like the women in our society, it feels like I’m in a Catch-22 situation; I recognize that the ancient books of my heritage are totally outdated, yet they still manage to inform us and reflect on ourselves as a society.

Worse, they serve as a mirror for our present-day life and society.

And as for the religion itself—its prayer books and spiritual practices—so much of that is antiquated as well. It needs updating as much as our sacred texts do, and I don’t agree with the opinions and practices of many other—maybe most other—Jews. Which makes it a struggle.

But I have my community that’s on the same page with me, and we find strength in each other and in singing together.

And when I feel like all is for naught and my hope has been drained, I find strength in praising the miracle and the mystery that I am still here, despite everything.

Why should I not be able to take joy in my heritage just because of others who have tried to exclude me as a woman? Why can’t I take ownership of it and redirect it to something new and renewed?

Because we can’t throw away the world we have; we have to renew it as well. And we can’t deny where we come from.

Finally I come full circle, and I am reminded that, throughout time, we have always had underground movements, as the underground abortion movement is beginning to surge again.

The oppressed, the enslaved, and the downtrodden have always found ways of getting around the restrictions.

We will find a way.

We always do.