What’s the first Jewish holiday we’ll be welcoming in the secular New Year of 2014 (besides Shabbat, of course)? Tu Bishvat!
This holiday is connected to the agricultural cycle of Israel. This year, Tu Bishvat is on January 16th, and Martin Luther King Jr. Day is only a few days later—January 20th. Could there be a connection between these two, seemingly unconnected holidays?
Tu Bishvat has in many ways become “Jewish Earth Day.” We are encouraged to pay attention to all forms of life on our planet including the life of plants, trees and produce. On Martin Luther King Jr. Day, we celebrate the life of one of our nation’s greatest transformers, a man who did so much to advance the human experience by highlighting the dignity of all people.
In thinking about this exact question, I remembered a clip I saw that helped me better understand racism and the 3 primary ways in which racism manifests itself in our society. I thought I’d share it for two reasons: It describes the depth of racism and what Martin Luther King Jr. was fighting against. It also uses the metaphor of a garden—perfect for Tu Bishvat…
Camara Phyllis Jones, MD, MPH, PhD, according the Center for Disease Control and Prevention’s website, is a family physician and epidemiologist whose work focuses on the impacts of racism on the health and well-being of the nation. In her article Levels of Racism: A Theoretic Framework and a Gardener’s Tale, she focuses on health disparities between people of different races. This film provides a general framework for looking at racism and can be translated to issues beyond health including education and criminal justice. In honor of both of these days, I encourage you to watch the film (and also read this article):
Maybe this film can help start an important conversation about acceptance (perfect for MLK Day) using the beautiful metaphor of a garden (perfect for Tu Bishvat)!
I also encourage you to host a Martin Luther King Jr. Tu Bishvat Seder/Shabbat supper. You can use this guide published last year by Repair the World and this Sunday Supper guide prepared by Points of Light. Perhaps you want to combine the themes of these two days, look at these questions as a group:
- How does my community respond to each level of racism? Am I usually pleased by the response of my community?
- How do I respond when I see the different levels of racism? How would I like to be able to respond to the different levels of racism?
- What about Dr. Camara Jones’s question: Who is the gardener? Do I want to try and influence the gardener? How?
- Are there similar allegories that portray different levels of racism?
Share any additional ideas or inspiration you may have for observing these holidays – we’d love to hear them!
Today marks 22 years since the passing of Charles Paul “Chuck” Selber.
In honor of his yahrzeit, and to conclude our three part series on his life and work, we wanted to share his own words, as well as a few words about him.
In his own words
Chuck left behind many words, in the form of letters, essays, and a play called “In Defense of the Committee.” His play was described as “a tragic comedy about gay civil rights, AIDS, religion, sex, government, and medicine.”
It received a staged reading at the Turner Art Center in Shreveport, Louisiana, while Chuck was still alive to direct it. The premise of his play is that an underground coalition of AIDS activists sabotaged U.S. government officials, infecting their children with HIV in order to motivate them to find a cure. An excerpt follows:
Had your brother belonged to any underground or terrorist groups before he formed The Committee
My brother is not a terrorist and The Committee never accomplished its mission as you will hear later. If I had a picture of Laurence’s bedroom with me tonight, you would know my brother like I do. You would see a bedroom that looks like an AIDS Souvenir Shop. You would see a PWA Silver Bracelet to be melted when the epidemic ends. It’s on his dresser. His tennis shoes from the AIDS walk are on the floor in front of the dresser. A sleeve from a designer jeans AIDS jacket is nailed to the wall. His “Torch Song Trilogy” stubs are also on the dresser…
The play is still in draft form, as Chuck passed away before it could be completed.
Remembering Charles Selber
When Chuck Selber passed away, his obituaries spoke to who he was as a person. This one in particular seems to capture his spirit: “Our community is sadly diminished this Christmas Day because of the death of Chuck Selber. The customary phrase is: He died after a long battle with AIDS. The customary phrase is much more a fundamental truth in Mr. Selber’s case, because he carried the battle to the enemy. It was not AIDS that was after him, but Chuck Selber who pursued his for with relentless zeal…”
His memory lives on in the hearts and minds of his mother, siblings, nieces, nephews and all who knew him. His fight lives on in the fight of the Philadelphia Center of Shreveport, Louisiana against the spread of AIDS and for the rights and improved quality of life for people living with AIDS. His words live on in his writing. May we see a final victory over AIDS and may this disease and others be driven from our earth.
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Now that the Jewish fall holidays have been celebrated, I have had some time to reflect on some of the meaningful moments of late summer and early autumn. This musing was inspired in part by a coworker, who sent me a screenshot of our Facebook page, showing the interesting juxtaposition of a picture of me and my fellow clergy speaking in Jackson… with a picture of another preacher and another rabbi preparing to speak to a crowd 50 years ago.
August marked the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington. All around the United States, the diverse people that continually make this nation so great gathered to celebrate and remember that momentous day through song and prayer, through words and fellowship. I was part of the celebration here in Jackson. As I stood on the steps of the Mississippi Capitol, beside my friend and fellow Mississippi clergyman Bishop Ronnie Crudup, to honor the steps that had been made and those still remaining in the march towards true equality, I pondered that day from 50 years ago.
What would it have felt like to stand before the gathered assembly of 250,000? What exchanges may have taken place between those who waited to speak? Did Dr. Rabbi Yoachim Prinz say anything to Dr. Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. as Prinz warmed up the crowd to hear King’s dream?
Given the collective spirit of God’s will present that day, they must have. For it was that same spirit that brought me and Bishop Crudup together this summer.
“I remember the original March,” Bishop Crudup shared. “I was seven and my mother was active in the Civil Rights Movement.”
“Aren’t you frustrated then that – as a society – we haven’t covered much ground?” I asked. “After all, right here in Mississippi, we’re still miles away from reaching a state in which every citizen – regardless of race or religion, gender or sexual orientation – has equal access to the same opportunities.”
Bishop Crudup grew reflectively silent. Then he said something I’ll never forget: “You may not see it. But, from the vantage point of my years, I do. You and I can stand together, dine together, work together. So, the work of changing laws is over; what remains is the challenge of changing hearts and minds.”
I nodded, knowing that this task was going to be as – if not more – difficult than the first task. But those who marched on Washington are passing us the baton. If we wish to move our society forward we can no longer simply march on Washington; we must also march over to our neighbors, and continue these important conversations.