For better or for worse, I did not give a sermon about the proposed judicial reform in Israel. Instead I said I will not speak about it because I do not live in Israel. When I saw those who normally had the same vantage point, like Danny Gordis, urging American Jews to speak up, I started to realize that this was something different. That, combined with the desire of a number of people for me to address the issues of the day, is why today I’ll be giving my take on the erosion of democratic rights and how we should respond to it from a Jewish perspective.

First a word from this week’s reading. Jacob, who began VaYetze as a refugee from his home with his brother threatening to kill him after the death of their father, finds himself in a different situation. He has always fled before. Learning his brother Esau is on the move with 400 men, Jacob fears for his family’s safety and divides his camp in half. He rationalizes that if Esau kills one of the camps, the other will survive. When Esau approaches, Jacob goes to the front of the line and bows 7 times in submission to Esau. Then, Esau hugs Jacob, falls on his neck and kisses him, and the two of them weep. Eschewing the Midrash on Esau trying to bite Jacob, this is a happy family reunion, where Jacob’s anxiety about his brother does not get born out. It is also a time where Jacob confronts his fears, wrestling with an angel (or with himself) head-on, refusing to let ago until he is blessed. He is given the name Yisrael, one who wrestles or struggles with God.

Back to the lead, which has been buried by now: those of us who fear the erosion of democratic norms should avoid catastrophizing and anxiety. Instead, we must recognize that US democracy is approaching 250 years young and that we should not live in fear. That does not mean that we should sit back and let things happen, however. We know from Dr Martin Luther King that “injustice everywhere is a threat to justice anywhere.” In reworking the words of Pastor Martin Niemoller, not to compare this administration to the Nazis but rather to point out the dangers of not speaking up, I have written the following:

First they came for the asylum seekers, masked men with surprise raids

And I did not speak up because I am an American citizen.

Then they came through the courts, measures like trying to outlaw abortion

And I did not speak up because I’ve already had children.

Then they came for the federal workers

And I did not speak up because I am privately employed.

Then they came for those who are transgender

And I did not speak up because I am cisgender.

Then they came for the department of education

And I did not speak up because my children are grown.

Then they came for the comics

And I did not speak up because I was not cancelled.

Then they came for SNAP

And I did not speak up because I am food secure.

Then they came for what was important to me

And it was too late for me to speak up.

Destruction doesn’t come by one moment-it’s step by step. Each step builds on the other, and by the time it’s there, it’s too late.

I could expand this list, as well as come up with a similar list for Israel. This does not take away from this administration’s support for Israel, and my belief that it is the most pro-Israel administration since Truman-even with people telling me at Kiddush that it’s smoke and mirrors. With that being said, I will not subject myself to a loyalty test where it is all-or-nothing. Just because I am a Zionist who loves Israel does not mean that I am immune to speaking about issues that gravely concern me, done largely under the auspices of Project 2025.

There is much to be concerned about and much to protest. I hope that I get more than a day’s notice the next time Representative Doris Matsui does a press conference outside John Moss Federal Building so that I can proudly stand there alongside many of my clergy colleagues. With that being said, as one who often catastrophizes, I want to keep things within their proper perspective. There is much to protest, yet like I spoke about with the election of Mamdani, the sky is NOT falling. We need to stay strong and fight for the issues we believe in. Some, like my dad, are single issue voters for Israel, and that’s fine. Others, like me, have a more diverse array of issues to which we give our attention, and that’s also fine. What matters in my opinion is not the issues that we support but that we are not afraid to fight for them.

I’ll give you an example from the beginning of my time in Sacramento. I had told Josh Heller that I want to be involved politically, and he connected me with CLUE, Clergy and Laity United for Economic Justice, run at the time by Rabbinical Student Leah Julian, recently selected as the new education director at Congregation Bet Haverim. I was connected with Irv Hershenbaum of United Farm Workers, who invited me to speak at a UFW march in August, one month after I was selected as your rabbi, I naively agreed thinking I could speak about how Judaism supports ethical treatment of workers. I didn’t realize that this was for a difficult piece of legislation that even the supporters had issues with. Nor did I realize that we have growers in our synagogue or that our shul president, Randy Pollack, was lobbying for this legislation to fail. Upon giving him a heads up about this march, Randy didn’t tell me not to do speak. He said to gather information from both sides before making a decision. Randy respected my right to speak at the UFW march even though it epitomized legislation that he was strongly against. This is what makes for a cohesive community-in an age of hyper polarization, the shul is the one place that people of diverse perspectives can come together to pray and socialize for the sole reason that we are Jewish or Jewishly adjacent.

That is the message I want to leave us with. Like Jacob at the beginning of Parshat Vayishlach, we are living in an age of uncharted territory. Our zones are constantly flooded, and we often can’t keep up and feel like we are at the end of our ropes. At such times we cannot succumb to hyperbole, lowering our heads and saying it’s the end of the world. We must fight for the causes for which we believe. When things don’t go the way we want, even when it feels like or becomes apparent that the system is working against us, we cannot afford to take our ball and go home. Pirkei Avot, the Ethics of the Fathers, says, “You don’t have to finish the work but neither are you free to desist from it.” It is better to say, “I’m disappointed, unhappy or afraid yet I choose to lean into the fear anxiety I feel rather than run away from it and to stay in community with those with whom I disagree.” What we should NOT do is enter echo chambers, solely look for confirmation bias for positions with which we already agree, or engage in ad hominem attacks against those with whom we disagree. Each of these is counter to Jewish values. The Talmud states multiple opinions, keeping in community those who vehemently disagree. Furthermore, they studied Torah together, challenging one another to get at a deeper level of the truth. We MUST follow in their example, finding the courage to stay in community with those who are diametrically opposed to us-especially when the going gets tough.