Rabbi Cooper's Letters

June 2, 2020 / 10 Sivan 5780
 

Dear Friends,

I was a kid, 14 years old, growing up in the suburbs of Detroit, when Detroit burned.  The riots of 1967 were violent and resulted in more destruction and death than had been seen in the US since the Civil War.  I remember that long, hot summer day at the end of July, going to my friend’s home and seeing his father, sitting in the living room alone, his head buried in his hands.  His store was located at the epicenter of the rioting.  He had just watched on television the building, in which he had worked for decades, burn to the ground.
 

The images of the rioting and looting which began in Minneapolis and continued in Washing ton DC,  Atlanta, New York, Philadelphia, Los Angeles and dozens of other cities around the country, are painful to watch and evoked those images from my childhood, 53 years ago. 

The Detroit riots began after the police raided an un-licensed bar, “The Blind Pig”.  Initially, the police killed 3 and brutally abused 9.  All the victims were African American. Subsequently, five days and nights of rage left an indelible scar on the City. 53 years ago, the serious rift between the African American community and the Detroit Police provided the catalyst for pent up anger, mistrust and violence.  How frighteningly similar 2020 is to 1967?!

One can criticize, and rightly so, the riots we see today on televisions and online.  One can point out how counter-productive and even irrational it is for rioters to burn the businesses they rely on and the places where they gather.  One can bemoan the destruction and hostility of those who have instigated violence,  exacerbated hatred, and promoted looting in the black community. But we must not confuse the rioting and looting with the real, deeper issues which are at the core of what we are seeing today.  One cannot miss the fact that the same impetus, racially motivated police brutality and the killing of blacks, ignited the outrage, rioting and looting today, in exactly the same way as it had been ignited 53 years ago.  

The issue we must face as a society and as a country, is that racism and hatred of “the other” are part and parcel of American life.   These are not political issues.  This situation is not the fault or the result of Democratic or Republican politicians.  Each party, during its moments of ascendancy over the past five decades, has had ample time and opportunity, if not to fix, then to address the inner hatreds and prejudices which we, individually and collectively maintain.  Neither party, with a few notable exceptions, have yielded positive and measurable results.

This is not a matter which can be adjudicated by the courts or legislated by congress.  This is not a problem which can be controlled, as our president has suggested, by releasing vicious, mauling dogs.  That didn’t work in Selma or Birmingham, AL and it will not work in Minneapolis.  The core of this problem resides, I believe, neither in the courts, nor in the Congress, nor on the desk of the President.  The problem lives  within each of us. 

In this moment of national crisis, we are frightened. We are frightened by the rioting and looting. We are frightened because our world feels out of control.  We are frightened because, in addition to all else, we are still threatened by COVID-19.

We are angry.  Angry that whatever meager efforts have made on behalf of racial equality have been largely ignored, forgotten or ineffectual.

And, for many, we are neglectful.  When those opportunities arose to make a difference, to refute the racist or bigoted statement, to make our opinions known, we have remained silent. 

At its core, the death of George Floyd is about what it means to be a human being.  The issue is about acknowledging the divine spark of holiness within each person.  We must see in humanity not simply individual differences but the vast areas of commonalities which we share.  We must start to see the responsibility of caring for each other, not simply as a Jewish or American responsibility but as a requirement which falls on every person, the world over. We must make this point explicitly until those who are not black can see those who are black as holy, simply because they are human beings.

The death of George Floyd set off protests and demonstrations which led to unlawful and dangerous rioting, looting and confrontations with police in cities throughout the country. These regrettable activities, however, are unrelated to the deeper issues of this tragedy.  No matter which laws change as a result of the death of George Floyd, a change in law alone will miss the point. 

What must occur is a change in our perception that some lives are more expendable than others. What must occur is a new, or renewed, awareness of the holiness of each and every person.  A change in the way we look at this world cannot be legislated. It must be taught and internalized at school and at camp. It must be discussed by families at the dinner table.  It must become a central message in sermons and homilies delivered in synagogues, churches and mosques during prayer services.


This Sunday, I invite you to join me in attending the Mount Hermon Baptist Church as a sign of our friendship and solidarity. We will include the method of joining them online in an email later on this week. 

In memory of George Floyd, z”l, let us work to change the way we look at all humanity.  Let us convey, at every opportunity, the fundamental notion that all human life is sacred. If we can begin that process in response to the death if George Floyd, he will not have died in vein.  Short of that, his death will have no meaning beyond the riots it generated.  And, we shall remain right where we have been all along: in 1967. 

B’Shalom,

Neil