In a new series of articles, Liberal Judaism is reproducing sermons given by our rabbis on important current issues. Here is the sermon given by Rabbi Lea Mühlstein of The Ark Synagogue (given on the occasion of barmitzvah of Edward Archbold) looking at how we should react to Government plans to send asylum seekers from the UK to Rwanda.
In one of his most famous sayings, the Sage Hillel asks:
“If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And when I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?” – Pirkei Avot 1:14
Captured in these three simple question is the essence of what it means to accept responsibility for our own actions. As Rabbi Peter Schaktman observes in his contribution to the Mussar Torah Commentary, our Torah portion Acharei Mot provides us with important insights about the nature of responsibility and accountability.
The portion begins with the section just read so beautifully by Teddy, which reminds us of the death of Aaron’s sons, which is regarded by many commentators as punishment for an act of irresponsibility. It continues with the rituals prescribed for the High Priest to make expiation for his personal and his community’s sins, transfer the transgression onto the scapegoat Azazel. The priest is accountable for ensuring that everyone—his community and, of course, he himself—accept responsibility for their actions.
As Rabbi Schaktman points out: “[h]idden in the name of the parashah is a key to understand ach’rayut – responsibility. The root of the first word, acharei, is the same as that of ach’rayut.”
There are two ways in which we can read the three Hebrew letters Aleph-Chet-Resh. The first way to read it is, as it appears in our portion, as achar—meaning after. As Rabbi Schaktman suggests: “When we connect ach’rayut to achar, to “after,” we understand responsibility as measuring the consequences of our actions and words.” I think many of us can relate to this understanding of responsibility: take the example of a bamitzvah: it was Teddy’s responsibility to take the learning and preparation seriously and because he did so, he was truly a shining star this morning.
Of course, the flipside of this can be seen in the failure of our Prime Minister to accept responsibility for his own actions, which will likely have consequences for our democracy that are far more significant than whether a certain prime minister or a chancellor resigns or doesn’t.
There is also a slightly different way in which we can understand the connection between ach’rayut and achar, between responsibility and after. The American Jewish educator Ruth Schapira points out that “[w]e can be responsible to others {only} after we take care of ourselves (think oxygen mask on an airplane).” She highlights for us a well-known phrase from next week’s Torah portion (Leviticus 19:18), which states v’ahavta l’rayecha kamocha“ – you shall love your neighbour as yourself. One way of interpreting this verse is that “by loving and respecting yourself first, you will in fact be better able to care for someone else.”
Remember what I quoted Hillel as saying at the beginning of this sermon? “If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And when I am only for myself, what am I?” Just like the high priest in our portion must begin with accepting responsibility for himself, we too must embrace responsibility for who we want to be, for our own needs first. But this is not enough, like the priest we must then embrace our responsibility for others.
This brings us to the second way of reading the three Hebrew letters Aleph-Chet-Resh. If we change the vowels a little bit, we get instead of the word achar—after, the word acher—other. Rabbi Rachel Barenblat, known by her blogger name The Velveteen Rabbi, points out that this “That suggests another, equally important, implication of achrayut (responsibility). When we care for each other, we express and strengthen our achrayut. Achrayut means actively taking the responsibility of caring for another, or an “other.” Achrayut means centering the needs of the other.”
In the Biblical book of Deuteronomy, we find the instruction to make a guardrail for the roof of our house. What’s interesting about this commandment, though, is the reason given for it. It’s not just for your own safety, but rather it says: “so that you do not bring bloodguilt upon your house if anyone should fall from it. (Deut. 22:8)”
I have been thinking about this commandment a lot in the past week as I reflected on our responsibility to hold our government to account to provide for a just system for individuals who are fleeing from danger to seek asylum. British politicians might want to stress over and over again that as a country we are welcoming to those fleeing danger but sadly British history shows this not really to be true. As the journalist Jonathan Freedland has pointed out: “People keep saying that Britain has a “noble tradition” of taking in refugees, citing the kindertransport as proof. … The reason it was the *kinder* transport – the reason that it focused on children – was that Britain, like most countries across the world, refused to take in Jewish adults, even as Jews faced the threat of Nazi persecution.” Or think of the treatment that the Windrush generation had to endure… so, while I was saddened, I was not surprised when my friend who was visiting the Ukrainian refugee processing centres in Poland sent me a picture showing that, while people where queuing at the desks of every other country offering refuge, there was literally nobody at the desk for the UK – the desk wasn’t even manned.
But I must admit that despite all of this, even I was surprised that the government is actually proposing to go ahead with its plan to send asylum seekers from the UK to Rwanda so that they must apply for asylum there rather than being able to request asylum in the UK.
How can we possibly consider this to be living up to our responsibility for some of the most vulnerable people on our planet?
Just like the Bible tells us we are to be held accountable for anything that happens on our roof, if we didn’t do what was necessary to make sure it was safe, we have a responsibility for every person who seeks our protection. In his Easter Sermon, the Archbishop of Canterbury also focused on the theme of responsibility, when criticising the government saying that the plan “cannot carry the weight of our national responsibility” and stressing that it is immoral to “sub-contract out our responsibilities, even to a country that seeks to do well, like Rwanda…”
So what can we do to embrace our responsibility in light of our government’s failure?
Take the time to write to your MP – don’t allow them to get distracted by partygate or the local elections – make sure that they know that we think better of our country; that we want to hold on to the hope that we can be a welcoming country that gives shelter to those in need.
And write also to the Rwandan embassy – remind them how much profiteering from our government’s failure will damage their public image as a country that tries sincerely to build back better just a little more than 30 years after the horrendous 100 days in 1994 when 800,000 people died in genocidal violence committed by Hutu extremists.
It might not seem like you or I can make a difference but what did Hillel teach us? “When I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?”