“When you find yourself in a world of inhumanity, be human.” Pirke Avot 2:5
I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling really human right now: a full on mess of confusion and certainty, fear and hope, sadness and joy, all at the same time. While I might wish that the world was clearer —and that I was clearer — it’s just not that way. Hard as it is, I’ve come to understand that all these seemingly conflicting emotions and thoughts aren’t bad: being a mess is at the essence of our humanity.
Last week, I wrote about how we need the push – the hard challenges – to help us make choices about what we value and how we enact those values. I talked about how sometimes, we are forced to decide what is right and what is wrong, what is good and what is evil, and how we are to respond. These are such times.
But I’d like to suggest that it’s not quite as black and white as it seems. Values exist on a spectrum; each end – absolute good/right or wrong/evil -- might be the extreme, but most of what we have to work with is in the messy middle. In fact, holding to extremes (and holding others to those extremes) is one definition of inhumanity. If I demand absolute moral purity, I set everyone (myself and others) up for failure. Our real humanity is mucking around in the middle.
And here we are, faced with some really difficult situations that are forcing us to define – or re-define- our values, and get into the muck. One of those is the recent arrest and threatened deportation of Mahmoud Khalil, one of the leaders of the Pro-Palestinian protests at Columbia and Barnard.
All sides are weighing in on this case, holding to the extremes. There are those who say, “good riddance,” and those who proclaim, “Free Speech.” There are some who claim that deportation of “antisemitic protestors” is the only way to end hate on our campuses and in our cities, and those who say it does the exact opposite. Some who demand “due process,” and some who say “not necessary.” And then there are those who, regardless of the actual facts, will use Khalil as a poster child for the authoritarian crack-down on liberal values or as the avatar for all that is wrong with liberal ideals.
I realize I am wading into hot water here, but I’m using this as an example. Khalil’s arrest, detention, the subsequent hearings, and the eventual outcome are a flashpoint forcing us to get messy and explore what it means to be human amidst inhumanity.
All our faith and wisdom traditions give us countless instructions on how to be human in the face of inhumanity. Most are the same: benevolence, generosity, justness, honesty, mercy. But some are different, especially when laced with moral absolutes, fundamentalism, and the definitions of transgression.
Our value systems not only define our positive values, but also what we deem negative or transgressions; we do not only determine what is good or right, but also what is wrong or bad, and how we deal with those violations of our moral codes.
Fundamentalist viewpoints leave no room for confusion: it’s black and white. But once you step back from the end points of the spectrum, making moral determinations is part of being human, and so is confusion about them; we have to wrestle a bit. I’m not suggesting that we live in a state of perpetual moral relativism, but that we acknowledge that determining what is right and what is wrong is a lot more complex than it appears.
Allow me to offer a bit of my own current dilemma as an illustration. Please know that I’m no Constitutional lawyer and I am not choosing a side here, but rather exploring my own messy middle outloud and on paper. I’m also not intending to pick a political fight, but to show what it’s like to wrestle with the spiritual implications of what we value and how we enact those values. Bear with me and show me some grace.
As an interfaith/interspiritual minister, and someone who holds sacrosanct the values of religious tolerance and inclusion, I am deeply alarmed by the rise of antisemitism in this country (and around the world) coming from both the Left and the Right, in both word and deed. I am dismayed and angry at the appropriation, dissemination and use of propagandistic and trope-filled rhetoric that calls for the destruction of the Jewish people and/or the state of Israel in the name of ideologies, resulting in cancel culture, physical violence, destruction of property, and fear. (Note that I am not saying that legitimate criticism of the politics or actions of Israel are de facto antisemitic. It’s contextual. Some are. Some aren’t. There are plenty of Israelis who are critical of their government, just as there are plenty of Americans critical of the US, but criticism itself doesn’t necessarily make you antisemitic or anti-American).
At the same time, I am equally appalled when those who use religion or some other virulent version of rhetoric (and it’s subsequent actions) to call for or enact the destruction of the Palestinian people (or any people, ever), their homes and their rights to self-determination. Neither of them are acceptable to me. They cross a line.
That line for me is defined by the values of freedom of expression, religion, movement, and sovereignty, which means that anything that restricts those freedoms is a transgression. But what exactly are the limits of those freedoms? What is a legitimate transgression, and what isn’t?
Enter the case of Khalil, which troubles me deeply. We don’t have all the facts right now (and may never), but there are many issues this case raises that need exploring for me personally.
While I have compassion for the suffering he and his wife must be going through right now, and also have true empathy for the Palestinian people and their plight, I’ll be honest: part of me welcomes a strong response to protests that destroyed property, celebrated violence and the deaths of a group of people or called for the destruction/cancelation of a country, shut down professors’ and students’ rights to teach and learn, and physically endangered students. I don’t agree with this administration’s methods of putting an end to these kinds of protests, but I do think that something has to change.
AND I wholeheartedly support the right of people to voice dissent (and there is plenty of spiritual precedent for this position across traditions, and maybe I’ll write a post on that). But there are effective ways to protest that don’t cause harm in speech or action, and, whether we like it or not, there are limits to free expression: you cannot yell “Fire!” in a crowded theatre. You cannot incite violence, destroy property or trample the rights of others, no matter what your legal residence status might be.
If you are one of those organizing, supporting or participating in that kind of hurtful speech and behavior (which must be proven), whether you are here legally or or as a guest, you have crossed a line. That line is enshrined in our courts and Constitution, though there seems to be a lot of messiness there. And, as we can see from the actions of the current administration vis á vis Jan 6 or Charlottesville, some highly selective application.
There is also debate as to what the repercussions are for crossing that line, and residency status plays a part. I can pretty safely say that if I were to go to another country and start leading protests against that country or it’s interests, there would be a target on my back. Countries do have the right to decide who gets to stay and who doesn’t, if they aren’t actually citizens, and deportations (or detentions and imprisonment) happen all the time all around the world. It’s not pretty, but it’s true.
That said, I am frightened by ICE’s dramatic midnight arrest (Not unlike ICE raids on immigrants elsewhere), and part of me hears loud echoes of McCarthyism, pogroms, Nazi roundups and other historic and contemporary “deportations.” I worry about the legal overreach, potential precedence and chilling application of Khalil’s case (ie. threats of more arrests) on genuine dissent, or speech and actions that are critical of the current administration, but nevertheless protected. I fear for others who might be similarly cast and cast out. I worry that many of these people will be stuck in legal limbo (and possible detention) for months or years while their cases work their way through the courts.
AND, I am also deeply skeptical, angry, and fearful of this administration’s weaponization of “antisemitism” and the cynically co-opted use of the Hebrew word for peace— “Shalom” — as bludgeons to suppress or repress those whose values are deemed a “threat to national security” or “un-American,” while at the same time, championing those who openly express antisemitism and other forms of intolerance on our airwaves, online, in other protests, and in the government. If you’re going to crack down on one group’s “antisemitism,” crack down on all of it, or don’t call it a “fight against antisemitism.” Antisemitism can’t be code for “anything we don’t like,” and Shalom doesn’t mean, “Take this!” This will only make real antisemitism worse. Not in my name, thank you.
Whew.
As you can see, it’s super messy in the middle here. I’m looking at my values, finding the shades of grey, and asking a lot of questions. Are Khalil’s arrest and possible deportation a transgression of my values? Are his words, actions or the protests he led transgressive? What is the limit to freedom of expression? What are the limits and responses to hate speech or actions, no matter which side they come from? What are the limits of national security? What constitutes “Un-American?” Are we sliding into authoritarianism? Where is the line? If I hold to an extreme, am I being intolerant? Blind? Unjust? What’s right? What’s wrong? Maybe some of you are also wrestling with these kinds of questions, too. (I actually really hope you are, though I know it’s difficult to be in this ring right now.)
I don’t have answers. I’m struggling. I’m reading, listening, contemplating, narrowing the issues down, and trying, as Nelson Mandela taught, to “let my choices reflect my hopes, not my fears.” I’m dancing with the both/and, trying to find where I stand. I am also observing how those who stand staunchly on the extremes may be letting fear guide their decisions and setting us all up for disaster: our own values can be used against us when the tables turn. We cannot decide what is right solely based on the political expedience of the moment, but must look carefully at the deeper truths that transcend any particular point in time. One might call them the eternal values.
Regardless, we must tread very carefully.
If we cannot acknowledge that things are complicated, if we put forth extreme moral purity tests or hold to ideals and values that have no bearing on reality, we are, in fact, contributing to a world of inhumanity. In that world of either/or, there’s no room for error. Welcome to the real groundwork of authoritarianism and fundamentalism. It can come from any side.
And yet, we can’t muck around in the middle forever. We have to find some solid ground.
But to be human is to wrestle, and sometimes to make mistakes, and to learn and evolve. To be human is to leave room for confusion, for “maybe,” for getting dirty in the messy middle. To be human is to see the both/and, the nuance, to ask questions and strive to understand without condemnation. To be human is to stand up against the inhumanity of extremism, but also to allow for flexibility. To be human is to allow others the same opportunity and right to be covered in muck while trying to figure it out.
At least, that’s how I read the Pirke Avot. In a world of inhumanity, I strive to be human….messy as that may be.
What does “be human” mean to you?
“Every decision you make reflects your evaluation of who you are.” – Marianne Williamson
Thank you Lauryn 🙏💜 I hope you have a wonderful week.
Dear Reverend Lauryn, thank you for laying out the situation with fairness and emotion. "What does “be human” mean to you?" I'd say to be human is to have an awareness that is miraculous and infinitely rare. To realize our own awareness - of joy and sorrow, of fear and courage, of the great Earth we share - is to be human.