Parshat Mishpatim – Feburary 9, 20204 / 1 Adar, 5784
NIMBY. Not in My Backyard. This was a term I was first introduced to while working for a not-for-profit Mental Health Organization. The project that catalyzed this term was the implementation of a wonderfully-designed and evidence-based housing model for those struggling with mental health issues and with insecure housing; this project would take individuals and families and give them a safe place to live, one of the cornerstones of survival in our modern world. How quickly some worried about “Those people” being housed in a permanent place that was close to them in proximity. Some were more comfortable forgetting or ignoring their existence. They were strangers, and they were not welcome.
The Torah uses the word “ger” to describe a stranger that lives among the people of Israel. When Moses is relaying the social laws in Parshah Mishpatim, he makes it clear that not only does G-d demand that the people treat strangers with justice and dignity, but also gives the Jews a reminder of their own origins as the stranger: “And a stranger shalt thou not wrong, neither shalt thou oppress him; for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt” The great Nachmanides claims that G-d’s command regarding the stranger to the Jewish people has two aspects connected to it. Politically speaking, the stranger is powerless due to a lack of community that would defend them. Psychologically speaking, the stranger is vulnerable, alone, and without a strong sense of belonging. The Talmud counts for us, and tells us that Torah mentions not oppressing, or even loving the stranger, a total of 36 times. Leviticus later talks of the stranger when stating: “Thou shalt love him as thyself.” When the Torah repeats a concept or a phrase even once, albeit 36 times, it is certainly an indicator to take notice and examine the matter in depth.
The ancient Egyptians famously abhorred strange people, and the Greeks actually coined the term “barbarian” as a name for all non-Greek peoples. When thinking about the Jewish perspective, it becomes very clear that to live Jewishly is to love the stranger, the alien, or the “ger.” To do anything else would not only be wrong in a moral sense, but also entirely hypocritical.
Let’s think about that word “barbarian” for a moment. Some here today and myself were fortunate enough to be able to attend a program at Stony Brook University Hillel on Wednesday. The families of hostages and those killed bravely shared their stories, and the stories of their families. They also shared the absolute barbarism that their families were victims of. These powerful and painful times for us as Jews can make it seem as if welcoming the stranger is dangerous. We must decipher the difference between a stranger and a pursuer who wishes to do harm; between the vulnerable and the predator. Welcoming the stranger is not naive, even if there are risks involved. We honor these October 7th families with every Jewish value, with every mitzvah, with every action done in the name of our tradition. This one is no different.
How do we apply this particular teaching of the Torah to the modern day? How often do we as a nation, a society, a community, or even as individuals “wrong the stranger?” How do we treat, or think about the “gerim?” How do we approach and talk about even our own neighbors? Why did some in the community so strongly resist legitimate projects to house the homeless and those with mental illnesses who live in our own backyards? What kind of words do we hear when individuals discuss people in a community who might talk, look, think, or act differently than what is seen as typical? I have heard words like “deviant,” “dangerous,” and “criminal.” The list could truly go on and on.
If we, as Jews, do not turn perceived strangers in our own lands and lives into friends, and invite them to the table in both a literal and figurative sense, we will be forgetting where we came from and who we are. The housing project eventually was completed, and was so successful that another came in its wake. There were no strangers there…mostly friends people had not yet met.
It has never been particularly popular to welcome strangers throughout history. Our duty as Jews is to hold a mirror up to our society in order to reflect the best and the worst that humanity has to offer. When it feels safe to become insular, welcome the stranger. When it is popular to blame the disenfranchised, welcome the stranger. When a group is villainized, marginalized, or threatened, welcome the stranger. By doing so, yes, we as Jews might remain a bit on the outskirts of popular social thought. However, we simply cannot ignore the welfare and treatment of those who are also navigating strange lands and strange people in their own times. Our actions can absolutely be a reflection of the good that exists in humanity. Our care for the stranger does not only live in our thoughts and minds, but has also been present forever in our hearts, placed there by G-d. May we all look inward, find that ancient place in our hearts that is innately warm to the stranger, and proceed to act with a welcoming love that represents the true beauty of humanity. Not in my backyard…NIMBY. Yes. Perhaps out of the backyard and into a seat at the table.
Shabbat Shalom
– Rabbi Josh Gray