The Master Is Waiting. Election 2016
by Robin Weinberg
I am here
Westport, CT. It’s a suburb of New York City, along the coast. A river, as they say, runs through it. It’s got great schools, a beautiful beach, an award-winning public library, hiking trails, woods and open space, excellent restaurants and a vibrant downtown Main Street.
It’s idyllic, as far as suburbs go.
Election 2016 in Westport didn’t much disrupt the community – at least on the surface. I think it’s mostly because people kept to their own echo chambers, and avoided talking or interacting with those on the other side. It’s easy to do. It’s a simple way to avoid difficult, aggressive, uncomfortable conversations.
Avoid. Reject. Ignore.
But, I got to spend time with a man who has to do precisely the opposite. He is Michael Friedman, the Senior Rabbi at Temple Israel in Westport. It is his job to
Listen. Learn. Welcome. Accept
Third Position
Rabbi Friedman leads a 60-year-old reform synagogue of 800 families. It’s an open, warm, liberal and receptive place. The membership is diverse – there are interfaith couples, people of all different races, same-sex couples, people who are more observant and people who struggle with their faith.
And most relevant to today, the temple membership consists of people with political views on all parts of the spectrum.
Rabbi Friedman has always been politically active. It’s in his genes. His grandparents went to Communist meetings. His mother measures time in blocks of “Before the Kennedy Assassination” and “After the Assassination.” His family had a universal hatred for Richard Nixon and were wary of Reagan and Bush. In this family, democratic identity was one of the many traditions passed down from generation to generation.
Despite this, in his role as rabbi, he treads a fine line. He cannot stump for a particular candidate. He cannot promote a particular party. He cannot advocate for the right or the left. He inhabits a Third Position. But he is, by no means, neutral.
While he would not and could not endorse either Clinton or Trump, he could, in other ways, advise his congregation on which candidate he, and Jewish tradition, teaches is the better choice.
High Holy Days
In October 2016, Jews around the world celebrated the High Holy Days. It is a time for deep reflection and repentance, for acknowledging one’s failures in the past year and setting intentions for the coming year, and it is a time for joining with family and community in the synagogue and at home.
In the synagogue, Rabbi Friedman talked about the upcoming election in his sermons. Without naming names or endorsing a candidate, he warned the congregation that Jewish history teaches that following false prophets – someone who claims to be the one and only savior – has always proven disastrous. With urgency and passion, he reminded his members that Judaism teaches that no one should be shut out or rejected, that it is a sacred duty to welcome the stranger and care for them. He again spoke of how the president is the most visible person on the planet, and as such, it is right to consider their morals and behavior when voting.
Certainly, the congregation came away with knowledge that there is one candidate with whom Jewish history and values align.
Westport Bubbles Over
For my post-election run-in with some red baseball hats, listen here:
Insert weinberg_red hat story.wav goes here
Election Night
Aftermath of the Election
When I spoke to the rabbi again, ten days after the election, it was apparent that he was subdued and concerned. It may be that he was affected by the conflict between his personal politics and the election’s outcome. Or perhaps it was the struggle between balancing his personal emotions the reactions of the congregants on both sides. Or maybe it was both.
Statistics show that Westport voted 70% for Hillary and 30% for Trump. The national Jewish vote was split nearly the same. It is safe to say that around town, the vast majority of people were reeling from this stunning defeat.
A special message from Rabbi Friedman after the election
Dear Friends,
The results of the presidential election compel me to address our congregation today. 
Today we are deeply in need of unity, consolation and hope. Therefore, I invite all congregants to join me and our clergy in my office at Temple Israel tonight, Wednesday, November 9, at 5:30 – 6:30 pm for an open conversation on the events of the past 24 hours and the uncertain future.
Today we are reminded that human behavior is unpredictable. There are times when we choose charisma over qualifications. There are times when we discount the value of trustworthiness. Moreover, our attempts to use data and reason to quantify or explain human behavior are often inadequate. The forces that compel human beings to many decisions are emotional and visceral. The concerns and frustrations of voters cannot be quantified in policies or polls. The depths of human despair often cannot be measured.
Today we are aware that November 9 is the anniversary of Kristallnacht, the 1938 “night of broken glass,” on which the Nazis carried out an organized pogrom against synagogues, Jewish businesses and Jewish homes. Our people is always aware of what can happen when hate is joined with power.
Today we are unsure of the decisions president-elect Trump will make, are unsure of how he will affect our nation’s standing in the world, are unsure of the effect his policies will have on our economy. But there is one certainty: In every generation our fate has depended upon the wise choices of our government and our leaders.
Jews have always prayed for the welfare of the government under which we live. We did so in the days of our Babylonian Exile in the 6th century BCE and throughout our long history in the Diaspora. Of course, during most of that time we neither chose nor trusted our secular leaders. Thus such prayers were most often “expressions of minority group insecurity.”[1] Many versions of prayers for the welfare of our government use language similar to that developed by Gershom Seixas of New York’s Congregation Shearith Israel in 1805. He pleaded that our leaders be granted, “an emanation of Thy divine wisdom.” As our Reform Jewish prayer book, Mishkan Tefillah, says,
O Guardian of life and liberty,
may our nation always merit Your protection…
Grant our leaders wisdom and forbearance.
May they govern with justice and compassion.
Help us all to appreciate one another,
and to respect the many ways that we may serve You.
May our homes be safe from affliction and strife,
and our country be sound in body and spirit.
This election will not change who we are as Jews. Our nation will be different from today forward. But we Jews will do what we have always done: champion the cause of the immigrant, the poor and the oppressed; ensure the dignity of all humankind; work to build a society of justice and compassion; care for the lonely and the sick; and most of all we will not give up hope. Just a few weeks ago, on Kol Nidrei, I addressed our congregation, saying:
Our priorities and public conversation are so critically important at this time. We are all disappointed that our nation is not moving in the right direction. Gaps between wealthy and poor have widened. Racial fault lines have emerged. Our standing in the world has declined. We’re concerned about our children’s future. And so we ask: Who will get us back on track? Who will solve the challenges we face?
Our savior is found not in grand pronouncements or promises. Rather, our tradition teaches that the messiah is found among the lepers – the lowest of the low, the untouchables of their day – healing their wounds, face to face. The messianic era begins not in sweeping initiatives of leadership, but in anonymous deeds of mercy and compassion.
We know that the choice we make on November 8 will define who and what we are. More than the various policies our nation will pursue, it will define the tenor of our public discourse and the role model we provide for our children.
At the same time, we know that the choice we make on November 8 is far less important than the choices we make every day. Our new President will not solve all the challenges we observe in our nation. Only we can do that – person to person, day by day.
L’shalom – in peace,
Rabbi Michael S. Friedman
[1] Jonathan D. Sarna in “Jewish Prayers for the United States Government: A Study in the Liturgy of Politics and the Politics of Liturgy.” Published in Liturgy in the Life of the Synagogue, Ruth Langer and Steven Fine, Editors, p. 206.
The Workers are Tired, but the Master is Waiting
Where does Rabbi Friedman go from here? How can he balance his disappointment and concern with the needs of his congregation? How does he lead his congregation forward? How does he unite his members, make sure everyone has a voice and a place at the table, while keeping true to his political and Jewish values?
First, he will get to work.
As he said in his email:
But we Jews will do what we have always done: champion the cause of the immigrant, the poor and the oppressed; ensure the dignity of all humankind; work to build a society of justice and compassion; care for the lonely and the sick; and most of all we will not give up hope.
Most importantly, the master is waiting.