Dear TBZ Community:
December 10 is International Human Rights Day, marking 74 years since the passage of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights on December 10, 1948. Every year, T’ruah – The Rabbinic Call for Human Rights dedicates the closest Shabbat as Human Rights Shabbat. We will be joining this custom this Shabbat morning, reading some selections of the Universal Declarations of Human Rights during services.
It feels fitting for me, personally, to spend some time thinking about Human Rights – how this is part of my rabbinic calling and what it means to be a Jew – the same week that I celebrate twenty years since my ordination (December 10, 2002 & 6 of Tevet, 5763) and connect both to the commemoration of 50 years since the ordination of my father, Rabbi Angel Kreiman-Brill z.l. (August 13, 1972). During an event in honor of the first two graduates of the Seminario Rabinico Latinoamericano, my father and Rabbi Reuben Nisenboim, I shared the following words (translated from Spanish):
It is very moving to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the first rabbinic ordination at the Marshall T. Meyer Latin American Rabbinical Seminary (Seminario Latinoamericano), and the ordination of our father, Rabbi Angel Kreiman-Brill. Coincidentally, this month I celebrate 20 years of my rabbinic ordination from Machon Shechter in Jerusalem. I fondly remember that my father accompanied me that day in December when I received my ordination. We laughed a bit, acknowledging that our rabbinates would be very different. At the same time, I can say with certainty that one of the greatest influences of our father’s rabbinate on mine is his commitment and work for social justice and the fight for justice and equity, especially giving voice to minorities. Taking risks and speaking up when necessary. Never shutting up when there is injustice.
We grew up during the dictatorship in Chile, and I learned from an early age that the role of the rabbi is not only a role within the community, but also a public role beyond the Jewish community, and that the rabbi has a role in society as a whole.
Clearly our dad learned this from his teacher Rabbi Marshall T. Meyer. And although some of my father’s political positions changed at the end of his life, my rabbinate continues to bear the imprint of that teaching of the fight for justice, equality, and human rights, both here in the United States where I live, as well as in Israel.
As I reflect on working, fighting, and pursuing human rights, I go back to a sermon I wrote for the High Holidays in October 2017, where I quoted Rabbi Marshall T. Meyer: “In all of the years that I went to prisons visiting the prisoners in Argentina, the Bible was considered the primary subversive text, especially if it contained the original Hebrew. I could not get a Bible or a prayer book into a prison. It was considered totally subversive literature by the Argentine military”. Rabbi Marshall T. Meyer, of blessed memory, is known by many in North America as the rabbi who revived one of the most soulful and socially active congregations in the Upper West Side in Manhattan, B’nai Jeshurun, known as BJ. For Latin American Jews however, Rabbi Mayer is much more than that. He was a student of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel z.l. and the teacher and founder of liberal progressive Judaism in Argentina and Latin America. He was the teacher of my teachers and of my father. In Argentina, Marshall became one of the few outspoken critics of the repressive Argentinean military junta that took over in 1976. At great personal risk, he became an important national voice for human rights in Argentina and when the dictatorship ended, he was the only non-Argentine appointed to the National Commission of the Investigation of the Disappeared.
As I said above, I grew up under the dictatorship of Pinochet in Chile. My strongest memories as a child were that we were not allowed to speak up. Speaking up was a daring act, a dangerous one. Yet I knew that my father was doing precisely that. Faced with the imperative to protect the lives of thousands of Chileans in the dire situation of repression following the coup of 1973, Chilean churches quickly organized an ecumenical service to protect people in distress. This effort was supported by some Christian denominations, such as the Baptist, Methodist, and Orthodox churches, and also by the Jewish community, which my father represented. Thus was born the Cooperation Committee for Peace in Chile. This Committee was the first step in the defense of human rights during the military regime. It was created through the Archbishop’s Decree signed by Cardinal Raúl Silva Henríquez on October 4, 1973, less than a month after the coup. The memory of my father’s voice, raised in resistance alongside Christian clergy, is one of the most fundamental building blocks of my rabbinate.
In this week’s parasha (Torah portion), Vayeshev, we encounter the saga of Joseph and his brothers. The story, well-known, takes us to a moment where the brothers (who are angry and jealous) decide to kill Joseph.
עַתָּה לְכוּ וְנַהַרְגֵהוּ וְנַשְׁלִכֵהוּ בְּאַחַד הַבֹּרוֹת וְאָמַרְנוּ חַיָּה רָעָה אֲכָלָתְהוּ וְנִרְאֶה מַה־יִּהְיוּ חֲלֹמֹתָיו
“…Come now, let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits; and we can say, ‘A savage beast devoured him.’ We shall see what comes of his dreams!”
But Reuben stops them and says:
וַיִּשְׁמַע רְאוּבֵן וַיַּצִּלֵהוּ מִיָּדָם וַיֹּאמֶר לֹא נַכֶּנּוּ נָפֶשׁ
But when Reuben heard it, he tried to save him from them.
He said, “Let us not take his life”
In that moment, Reuben stands up against his brothers, against the hatred that exists there, to save his brother Joseph.
וַיֹּאמֶר אֲלֵהֶם רְאוּבֵן אַל־תִּשְׁפְּכוּ־דָם הַשְׁלִיכוּ אֹתוֹ אֶל־הַבּוֹר הַזֶּה
אֲשֶׁר בַּמִּדְבָּר וְיָד אַל־תִּשְׁלְחוּ־בוֹ לְמַעַן הַצִּיל אֹתוֹ מִיָּדָם לַהֲשִׁיבוֹ אֶל־אָבִיו
And Reuben went on, “Shed no blood! Cast him into that
pit out in the wilderness, but do not touch him
yourselves”—intending to save him from them
and restore him to his father.
And though he doesn’t fully succeed in saving Joseph, he spares his life which eventually will become a blessing.
Reueben reminds us to stand up for what is right and for life. Even when those around us are not standing with us. Even when doing so means taking a risk.
Rabbi Rachel Kahn-Troster, former deputy director of T’ruah and current Executive Vice-President of the Interfaith Center of Corporate Responsibility, wrote in a d’var Torah (words of Torah) in honor of Human Rights Shabbat:
…in a time when the global commitment to a shared understanding of rights and obligations seems to be in retreat, it is worthwhile to reread the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The UDHR never directly alludes to the idea of b’tzelem elohim, the Jewish mandate that every human being is created in the image of God, but the underlying value of universal human worth and dignity is woven into the fabric of the document, both in the lofty ideals of the preamble and the specific rights enumerated in the articles.
The basic notion that we, all humans, are created in God’s image is what guides us in our pursuit for justice and dignity for all. Our fight to save people who are thrown into pits and into death. Our determination to stand up, even when dangerous, even when those around are not willing to do so: This is what we do, this is what Judaism calls us to do.
May this Shabbat bring renewal and blessings to all of you and your loved ones.
May we find strength, courage, and patience, and open our hearts with generosity.
May all those who are ill find healing. And may we have a joyful, sweet, and peaceful Shabbat.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rav Claudia