Holding One Another Up

In a famous scene from the Book of Exodus, when the Israelites are attacked in the wilderness, Moses stands on a hill with his hands raised. As long as his hands remain up, the Israelites prevail. But Moses grows tired. His arms grow heavy. So Aaron and Hur bring him a stone to sit on. Then they stand beside him, one on each side, and hold up his hands until the sun sets.

I’ve always loved the simplicity of the image. Even Moses cannot do it alone. And Aaron and Hur neither deny his need nor do they simply tell him to be strong. They see what he needs and they help.

Jewish tradition knows that none of us gets through life alone. We pray in the plural. We gather in community. We bring food to a home of mourning and make room at a table of celebration. We are meant to notice one another, even when the issue isn’t our immediate need, and then to act. And, since societal issues often jump from group to group, it is also an act of self-interest to stand with another in their moment.

The world-changing physician and anthropologist Paul Farmer called this kind of commitment “pragmatic solidarity.” In his work with communities facing poverty and illness, Farmer understood that good intentions were not enough. Solidarity meant listening to people, sharing resources, and staying present through the long work of changing the conditions that caused suffering. 

That is what comes to mind when I think about the thousands of people – and elected officials – who showed up for Jewish-owned restaurants in Philadelphia this weekend. A group had called for a boycott of businesses it labeled “Zionist.” This was an attack on the Jewish community, and the response was profound. Neighbors stood in line for blocks, for hours, to support our community.

I imagine what that presence might have meant to an owner opening the door that morning, or to an employee arriving for work. Someone saw what was happening. Someone cared enough to come. Hold this in your heart with the recognition of its horrific opposite, 88 years ago tonight, on the Night of Broken Glass, where the Jewish community was abandoned by their neighbors, utterly alone.

Jews need that kind of friendship. Everyone does. At a time when Jewish belonging is challenged because of our commitment to Am Yisrael and Medinat Yisrael, it matters that people stand with us. It matters that they understand that Zionism is an expression of Jewish peoplehood and that Jews should not have to renounce it to participate in community life.

Friendship asks something of us, too.

This weekend, an Israeli television network suspended a presenter after he mocked the medical credentials of two Arab politicians, both of whom are doctors. The network recognized that their dignity mattered.

We are also watching the coalition negotiations now unfolding in Israel. Arab-led parties will likely play a consequential role in how a government is formed and functions. The path remains uncertain, and there are real disagreements among the parties. But the arithmetic makes something clear: partnership is not only a beautiful idea. It can make possible what no bloc can accomplish alone.

Arab citizens of Israel deserve to be heard because they are citizens, with the same inherent dignity as their Jewish neighbors. Israel’s Declaration (Scroll) of Independence promises this. And Israel needs the participation, talent, and partnership of all its people as it faces the difficult work ahead. Israel’s reality makes this clear.

The Baal Shem Tov taught that love of a fellow Jew should extend even to someone we have never met. He taught us to care beyond the circle of familiar faces. I hear in that teaching an invitation to widen our concern further, carrying the love we feel for our people into our relationships with others. Yes, it is pragmatic solidarity, but it should also be bonds of care within society.

Standing together is right because every person is made in the image of God. It is also wise because none of us can create a safe and compassionate society alone.

We need friends. And we need to be friends.

That means speaking up. It means buying a meal, making a call, and standing beside someone whose arms have grown tired. Sometimes it means finding a stone for a friend to lean on.

Ultimately, standing for someone else the surest way of knowing they’ll stand with you too.

May we be so blessed.