It was nice
having a week off. I took what is, in the new lingo of our
post-2008 depression era, a “stay-cation.”
Instead of biking though the hills of California’s wine country, the
back roads of Vermont, or some other yet for me to explore area, I invested in
some home projects and kept the biking local.
Mind you, I got in some quality biking logging well over 100 miles,
spending most of my week covered in sweat, road grit, and trail dust and
nurturing a nerdy cyclist’s tan that is sadly already fading due to too many
hours indoors. It was a bit of
nirvana. Then, I had to come back to
reality on Monday.
Monday. It was definitely a day I wish I could have
remained blissfully on my bike riding through the valley far away from the news
headlines that came across the airwaves and the internet throughout the
day. If only I could have extended my “stay-cation”
a few days longer. If only ignoring the
news could make it go away.
Monday. Our nation’s supreme court ruled in favor of
“closely held” corporations, such as Hobby Lobby, which desire to limit health
insurance coverage benefits because said benefits, which, by the way, solely
impact women's health coverage, could possibly challenge the CEO’s religious beliefs.
Monday. The Jewish community received confirmation of
what we didn’t want to say aloud but what so many of us sadly expected. The bodies of Naftali Fraenkel, Eyal Yifrach, and Gilad Shaar, the three yeshiva students kidnapped in the West Bank a few weeks ago
were found in Hebron showing evidence of a triple homicide at the hands of
members of Hamas.
Monday. It was a depressing day. My heart sank twice. I hope
yours did too.
These
headlines may seem unrelated. How dare I
compare the brutal deaths of three young men to the now legally supported refusal
to provide complete health care to women?
But both of these stories reveal the worst of humanity. Both reveal our capacity to hold ever so tightly
to our own belief systems that we are willing to do serious damage to other
members of the human race. Both stories
give evidence of our inherent short-sightedness. Why are we as a species so unwilling to see
and respect those who may believe differently from us? Why must we resort to tactics that physically
harm others, or have the potential to put others in harms way, in our desire to
be proven right? Why can’t we be open to another’s narrative?
The immediate impulse for revenge
that is currently waving through the Jewish community worldwide underscores
this base tragic flaw of humanity. How many Facebook posts did you see among your
Jewish friends regarding the murder of the three Jewish teens? I saw plenty.
How many posts did you see from these same Jewish friends about the
equally tragic murder of Mohammed Abu Khdeir, a young Arab studying to be an
electrician like his father? I saw only
one. So, I shared it. And, when I did so, I immediately received a
message scolding me for not highlighting the Jewish deaths over and above the
Arab one.
Really? Is that what we’ve been reduced to: a tit for
tat tally of death?
The conflict is loaded with hatred –
plenty on both sides, but let’s be cognizant of one important bottom line. Hate and vengeance expressed with violence
and murder is wrong. Rachel Fraenkel,
the mother of Naftali, one of the three kidnapped and murdered teens found in
Hebron, reminds us in her response to death of Mohammed Abu Khdeir “…there is no difference between blood and blood.” We
should be equally, if not more outraged if we confirm his death was by Jewish hands.
Monday. It was a difficult day. I’m pained that Israel can’t find its way to
a peaceful resolution to an ongoing conflict between two sides neither of which
seem to be able to hear or respect the other long enough to make real
progress. I’m pained that in our own
country, after living through a powerful feminist movement that expanded
women’s rights, I am now living through a time when those rights are being
chipped away by a group of white, Catholic men who fail to see the needs of
someone other than themselves.
I’m pained
by the use of religion, theology - things that are matters of faith -- as tools
to do harm to others. What happened to
the prophetic impulse to use faith as a tool for acting justly and for forwarding
God as a motivation for valuing kindness and humility? Micah
would be entirely disappointed in humanity today. I must agree with Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader
Ginsberg, “I
fear [we have] ventured into a minefield.”
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