More disturbing than the midnight shooting that took place in
a neighborhood movie theatre this summer, than the shooting that took place in
broad daylight on one of Manhanttan’s busiest streets in midtown...more
disturbing than the random gun shot that missed its target and hit instead a
young mother in Baltimore city, or the gunshot that killed a visitor to Morgan
State this past week...perhaps even more disturbing than the shooting that emotionally
and geographically hit so close to home for so many of us: that shooting on the
first day of school in Baltimore County - - more disturbing than any of these just
may be the one that didn’t make front page news.
Just
days after the Perry Hall incident, a shooting at a neighborhood supermarket in
suburban New Jersey -- three more dead to gun violence. The death toll from this shooting was no
greater than elsewhere – indeed, far fewer than in Colorado. The scene no more
horrific than the others, the explanation no more inexplicable, but this time,
it wasn’t even deemed news worthy, at least in Baltimore. Has
gun violence in the public square become such a regular phenomenon that it no
longer has enough shock value for the front page of the news? How about page 2 of the paper? Three? No, this Pathmark shooting was buried on page
eight of the less than hearty Sun
paper in which it was reported! Page eight – now that should shock and disturb us.
The satirical news outlet, The Onion, sadly had it right in its analysis of the Colorado Batman tragedy. To quote the Onion’s appointed "reporter," “I hate to say it, but we as Americans are
basically experts at this kind of thing by now….the number of media images of …
citizens crying and looking shocked is pretty much right in line with where it
usually is at this point. The calls not
to politicize the tragedy should be starting in an hour, but by 1:30 PM
tomorrow the issue will have been politicized.
Also, I wouldn’t be surprised if the shooter’s high school classmate is
interviewed within 45 minutes.” He then
went on to describe, how, “in exactly two weeks this will all be over and it
will be like it never happened.” (The
Onion, 8/3/2012)
The inherent truth of The
Onion’s commentary on what makes news – the event itself or people’s
reactions - aside, its writers have one point entirely wrong, and it’s the
point that underscores and validates the entire satire. It isn’t at all like it never happened
before. It used to shock us. It has happened so many times now that the
shock is gone, forgotten. We as a
society have become numb and at the same time saturated by repeated episodes of
tragedy, so much so that occurrences of gun violence no longer warrant front-page
coverage, and we know, to quote The Onion
again, “with scalpel-like precision” exactly what to expect in the
aftermath. Perhaps that is why it is no
longer news worthy. Our reactions have
become too predictable.
I fear
that this saturation has lead to a level of complacency. We accept the possibility of such horrific
violence as a disturbing but uncontrollable part of our modern reality. It has only been two months or so since the
shooting in Aurora. Two months since the
horror of it was in our face. “It’s as
if it never happened,” except for the families who lost loved ones, except for
the man with a severed spine now dependent on a ventilator for breath, except
for the woman with shattered leg, except for all of the victims and their
families trying to rebuild their lives, trying to pay for exorbitant unexpected
medical expenses, expenses that will no doubt add to the already over-burdened
health care system in our country, and trying to navigate through the resulting
emotional trauma, the broken hearts and souls, that are the result of living
through such an experience.
Of
course, we must not allow the increase in gun violence in our country to
paralyze us. That is not at all a useful
response. At the same time, we must
fight against the initial tendency to accept the problem as someone
else’s. Isn’t that why we find the
interviews with classmates and co-workers of the shooter so fascinating? We yearn to hear something that explains the
violence away as something that can’t happen to us so that we can continue to
live our lives without worry. It’s over
there. We’re safe over here. Problem is, it is happening to us – all of us,
whether we are direct victims or not.
And we
can’t respond by simply building up our defenses. Baltimore County’s response to the most
recent appearance of a semi-automatic weapon on a 13-year person: hand held
metal detectors and increased police presence on school premises. Really?
Do we really want our schools and work places to look more like potential
crime scenes and war zones than safe havens of learning and productivity? A vigilant environment is not the answer to
our society’s gun violence problem, and it is certainly not the environment
into which I want to send my children.
We are certainly not the first to struggle with the human
capacity for violence. Many of our
prominent Medieval Jewish thinkers discussed the need for subduing the internal
impulses and motivations, the yetzer
ha-ra, that propel humans toward violence.
Maimonides, for example (and not surprisingly) viewed violence as stemming
from irrationality and ignorance. His
prophetic vision of peace stemmed directly from the dominion of the intellect over
our destructive impulses; indeed, intellectual perfection, defined as a
realization of the rational self coupled with knowledge of God, was deemed the
guarantor of peace for the Rambam.
Similarly, Abraham bar Hiyya, a Jewish mathematician and
philosopher who lived during the decades leading up to Maimonides’ birth, saw
violence and hatred as falling to the wayside once human beings became masters
of their interpersonal relationships.
“If each and every one” he wrote,” …shall love his neighbor as he loves
himself, then zealotry, hatred, and covetousness must vanish from the world;
and it is these that are the causes of war and slaughter in this world.” (from Hegyon ha-Nefesh) For Bar Hiyya, constructive use of the
intellect wasn’t the solution, but rather the development of compassion,
emotional intimacy, and mutual identification among human beings was paramount
toward eradicating violence.
The author of Unetane
Tokef, the central poetic addition to our High Holiday Amidah that was written most likely written in part as a response
to the horrific experience of the Crusades, viewed supreme justice as the cure
for all that ails us and as the key for bringing about ultimate peace and
redemption into our world. It is our good
deeds, the poet emphasizes, balanced against our failings, that have the power
to scale back horrific events in our world.
Taken individually,
none of these philosophical answers satisfies.
We recognize the idealism and naivité in each. A society where peace and non-violence reign
is held up as a utopian redemptive vision that seems unrealistic. But as Progressive Jews, we must challenge
the notion that redemption is entirely out of our reach. Utopia, yes – that is out of our reach, but
making the world less conducive to violence?
I’d argue that is not only in our reach, but it is our responsibility,
part of the mandate of tikkun olam.
Common
to all of these philosophers’ points of view, in addition to a focus on redemption
as a state of perfection is also a recognition that we, human beings, are not
powerless. We do not have to sit back
and accept the readily accessible presence of guns in our society. We can advocate against the gun lobby and for
tougher gun control. There is simply no
ethical or compelling reason why any regular citizen needs easy access to a
semi-automatic pistol. We must work to instill
a sense of derech eretz in our
children that fosters not only kindness, honor, and respect, but also teaches
them ways to cope with sadness, frustration, and anger before it percolates
into violence.
It is easy to lay blame on others, specifically on the
shooter, on the parents and grandparents who made weapons available, on those
who bullied, on bosses who treated workers unfairly, on misdiagnosed or poorly
managed mental illness. There is no
dearth of places to point our fingers. During
this period of repentance, however, it behooves us to place, at the very least,
some of the responsibility squarely on us.
Doing
so requires Maimonides’ activation of the intellect, Bar Hiyya’s consciousness,
love, and respect for the other, and the medieval poet’s sense of divinely
mandated mitzvot. It
is our responsibility to make this world inhospitable to violence. It is our responsibility to work towards
bringing at least this aspect of redemption to our world.
May we be stirred to care, may we be stirred to action
- Tekiah: wake up,
shevarim – be disturbed, Teruah – move forward, and let us work
towards fixing this world.
(conclude with shofar blasts from around sanctuary)
No comments:
Post a Comment