Friday, December 30, 2011

Parshat Vayigash


Parshat Vayigash
Rabbi Daniel Levitt
There has been some distressing news coming out of Israel this week if you’ve been paying attention.  This week there have been protests and demonstrations; the media has picked up on the treatment of women, by ultra-orthodox men in Israeli society.  The issues have primarily focused on the 8 year old girl in Beit Shemesh who gets harassed for not dressing “frum” enough, and on the segregated buses where women are made to sit in the back of the bus.  The news tends to sensationalize things and it’s easy to demonize the behavior of this group of men treating people terribly in the name of the religion.  It’s important to realize that these extremists among the ultra-Orthodox, while deplorable, are a small minority.  But these stories are symptomatic of the situation that has been going on for some time now, there is a battle raging in Israel between the ultra-Orthodox and the Secular.
It is a very polarizing battle; each side sees things in terms of blacks and whites.  For the secular, who don’t understand or respect the ultra-Orthodox they see their own way of life being attacked by ALL of the ultra-Orthodox who they see as forcing religion into Israeli society.  The mere sight of a black coat and beard can be offensive to some.  For the ultra-Orthodox, they view the rest of the world as being against them in their desire to live modest, religious lives, without the distractions and attractions of the outside modern world.   When the secularists, or Israeli law authorities, condemn their lifestyles, they feel attacked and discriminated against.
This is a complex situation; there is no easy resolution in sight.
Some people see it as a clear evil, talking about forcing someone to the back of the bus makes Americans think of Jim Crowe segregation, while in fact this is not exactly parallel.  And it’s important to note that many ultra-Orthodox women are more comfortable in separate seating and actually prefer this situation.  Other people might be under the impression that there is no problem with the buses at all, that the problem lies with the secular society trying to make separate seating illegal.  They feel that the only people who would ever ride these buses the first place are people who are comfortable with this type of segregation, so why stir up controversy?  Just as a point of information, the Israeli Supreme Court has ruled that these buses are lawful so long as everyone on the bus is ok with the separation. 
After seeing countless news articles on this subject this week I wanted to understand some of the latest headlines from a more personal perspective.  Thank God for facebook.  I posted the question on facebook this week,” has anyone ever been on one of these segregated busses?”  It was interesting to me that all of my facebook friends who responded were women.  I asked them to describe the experience for me so that I could understand first hand, rather than from the news what it was like.  Most of the respondents felt the need to respect the wishes of the ultra-Orthodox men and were not bothered by the situation even if it meant getting motion sickness in the back of the bus or having to pay more or take a much longer route in order to use a non-segregated bus.  There was a desire on their part for mutual respect and a need for tolerance.  But unfortunately, that desire was not always reciprocated. 
I want to read to you what one of the women wrote to me, and draw a lesson from what she writes to the Parsha this week.
I used to have to take the Chareidi (Ultra-Orthodox) separate bus back from Bar Ilan University to my parents’ house in Bet Shemesh.  Without going into detail, I think I should tell you that I am generally considered to be modest in dress, and I definitely believe in respecting the norms of the Chareidi community when I enter their community. I have also never been accused of a lack of self-confidence. Which may be why it was so surprising that, since that first trip, I avoided the separate buses as much as I could. People would ask me why I chose to take the more expensive and less convenient transportation back home to my family, and I would answer, only half-jokingly, that I was not a middle aged Black woman in the South 60 years ago. Of course, there were times when I had no other option. While most of these trips were not noteworthy, I can distinctly recall one trip when the driver graciously allowed me to get on in the front, until when one red bearded man started raising his voice in protest and I backed down, got off the bus and boarded from the back. I was ashamed. And I was angry.
Still, I think nothing compares to the time I spent on the 1 bus, which travels from Jerusalem’s Central Bus Station to the Western Wall, via the Chareidi neighborhood of Meah Shearim. The popular bus route is truly a melting pot of races, cultures and denominations. Although now the bus is, for the most part, mixed, there was a period of a few years that extremists had succeeded in imposing a strict segregation. I don’t know if it was the harsh contrast of the profoundly religious experience at the Western Wall, compared with the wholly profane experience of the bus, but some of the worst interactions I have had in my life took place on that bus. Rides on that bus frequently left behind a bitter emotional aftertaste- from the shame I felt when I meekly moved to the back upon being “kindly informed” that the bus was now separate, or the disgust I felt as I stood crammed in the back of the bus while the men in the front had seats to spare, or the incredible indignation and utter incomprehension I experienced as men who refused to even look at me had no problem pushing into me and slamming into me with the entire weight of their bodies as they forced their way onto the bus. But the bitterness of all those emotions could not compare with the acrid hatred that would engulf me after these encounters. While I hated the way they made me feel ashamed, or the way I believed they focused on the letter of the law while ignoring the values and spirit of the law, what I hated most of all was the way they made me hate them.

I, who had always tried to defend the Chareidi community, found myself badmouthing them in frustration after each and every one of these rides. I, who always tried to find the best in people, found myself looking for the worst. I, who firmly believes in the power of love and acceptance, could not find it in my heart to love or accept.
My father always says that the quickest way to get someone to dislike you is by making them think you dislike them. It is human nature; we treat others the way we are treated. I don’t know who started this vicious cycle of intolerance and hatred. I hope we can find a way to end it.


That note of hope is how she ends her letter, and that is what I’d like to connect to this week’s Parsha.
This is a complex situation.  There are halachic considerations which need to be respected with regard to the closeness of the seats, how crowded these buses can get, and the need to protect people who do not tolerate physical contact between men and women.  But there has to be a better way of ensuring that Jewish law is maintained.  Jewish society also needs to respect the general dignity of human beings, and model a religious lifestyle which reflects behavior that our sages describe as, derekh eretz kadma l’torah - ethical behavior comes before the Torah.
Wouldn’t it be nice if both sides could listen and respect the other side, understand what is upsetting their fellow Jew, and work together to come up with a mutually agreeable solution.  Women shouldn’t feel, as one of my friends described, let down by the orthodox world that they were supposed to look to for guidance and inspiration.  But, how does Israeli secular society treat the religious?  An employee of an Israeli non-profit that monitors worldwide anti-Semitism responded to a question about whether it monitors anti-Semitism in Israel, she responds that they can’t, out of fear of losing funding.  What anti-Semitism could she be referring to in Israel of all places?  She says, "I'm not talking about the Arabs. I'm referring to attacks originating from the Israeli left. I'm ashamed to say that if the same standards and definitions were applied in Israel, many left-wing political statements and media reports would be considered anti-semitic.The orthodox world shouldn’t be judged by the actions of a few extremists and made out to look like vicious horrible people, and they shouldn’t be forced to compromise on their personal religious values in of all places, the Jewish state, when it’s not negatively impacting others.  Hatred and the downright anti-Semitism that occurs in secular Israeli which is directed at the orthodox are also not acceptable.  
Emotions and tempers on this issue are understandably hot.  This week we saw thousands of demonstrators against the treatment of women in the ultra-orthodox, there were Jews at these demonstrations chanting slogans and holding signs about the evils of religion.  These opponents of what they see the chareidi-zation of Israeli society often make false assumptions that all women are constantly subjugated and discriminated against in the ultra-Orthodox world.  Which, if you have ever spent time with ultra-orthodox families, is clearly a gross overgeneralization and most of the time patently false.  In response to these demonstrations, ultra-orthodox men in Beit Shemesh held their own demonstrations, which according to many reports, turned into a small riot.  
On this issue and all disagreements in general, the more each side digs in to their position, the more each side stops listening to the other, the more each side is made to feel defensive of their way of life, the less likely that either side will listen and understand; making it impossible for both to desire reconciliation.
In this week’s Parsha we have one of the most famous reconciliations.  Joseph reveals himself to his brothers.  After having been mistreated and then sold as a slave by his brothers, Joseph became Prime minister of Egypt, second in power only to Pharaoh himself.   With his brother’s destiny in his hands, Joseph revealed himself to his brothers.  What a moment!  Can you imagine how you would feel if you were Joseph, would you be able to withstand the desire for revenge?  Can you imagine how you would feel if you were one of the brothers?  The shame, guilt, embarrassment and fear?  Yet, we know the rest of the story; they all lived happily ever after.
How were they able to reconcile?  Not knowing that the Egyptian Prime Minister was their brother Joseph, the brother’s spoke openly between each other.  Joseph was able to overhear all the guilt and remorse expressed between each of his brothers. Yehuda had made a heartfelt plea to Joseph on behalf of his brother Benjamin to protect Benjamin and have mercy on their father. When Joseph saw that his brothers truly felt sorry for the way they treated him, had learnt from the experience and were now going out of their way to protect Benjamin, only then did Joseph feel safe enough to reveal himself.  With Joseph and his brothers, reconciliation was possible because the brothers’ remorse and true emotions were revealed to Joseph.  Would they have been as honest and as open if they had known it was him?  Would any of us?
How many of us have avoided apologizing, avoided reconciling simply because of the discomfort of having to do it?  Sometimes we know we are wrong, but saying sorry is hard.  Sometimes we refuse to admit to ourselves that we have done any wrong; because we feel that we have been wronged as well.  It is hard to look someone in the face with whom you disagree and try to really listen and understand where they’re coming from; it is hard to look someone in the face who has done something wrong to you, sometimes it’s even harder to look someone in the face of whom we have done something wrong to.
The lesson for us is that for reconciliation to occur, we must look the other side in the face.  We need to respect and understand where they are coming from.  It’s not always easy, but it’s always necessary.  In Israel, there is complexity and validity on both sides, no one is totally wrong all of the time and certainly no one is right either.  I don’t know how reconciliation will happen, but I do know that if things continue the way they are going, with both sides feeling more and more attacked and less and less respected, I fear that it is going to get a lot worse before it can get better. 
This is true in our personal lives as well.  If we can’t listen to people we disagree with, can’t understand where they are coming from, and aren’t willing to accept fault, then we leave little room for the other person to listen to us, understand us, and ask themselves where they have gone wrong.  When posturing ourselves like this our interpersonal rifts will just keep getting wider, it has to stop somewhere. 


May all of us, the entire Jewish people, and the entire world be blessed with the courage of Joseph and his brothers to make the effort to care more about creating peace and understanding, than in protecting our own pride.  

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