Dear Friends,
8 of the Rabbis who were part of the private retreat
I spent nearly a week this summer at the MEA’s Santa Fe campus with 30 other faith leaders: Zen Buddhists, Christian ministers, Muslim and Hindu faith leaders, and Rabbis. I know, it sounds like the opening of a joke, “a rabbi, minister, imam and Buddhist priest walk into a bar…” (if you can think of a good punchline I’ll make a donation to your favorite charity).
While the focus was similar to what we learn in our Modern Midlife Mavens program, this private retreat started with a premise: religious leaders in midlife share common challenges and, if brought together in a supportive and safe container, can find understanding, solidarity and support among peers while also enjoying some much needed rest and renewal. Let’s just say the MEA magic worked.
One exercise – that our MMM alumni are familiar with – asked us to become very honest and vulnerable. To challenge the limiting beliefs we each carry, we placed stickers upon our shirts that expressed hard truths about ourselves.
Standing in silence, we stared into the eyes of another for 10 seconds before looking at their stickers. It felt like 10 minutes. Of course, regardless of another’s race, gender, or religion, when you look into another’s eyes, all you see is – hopefully – their humanity staring back at you.
As we processed the experience, two participants said things that literally took my breath away. One, a black Episcopalian minister said, “that was the longest I’ve ever looked into the eyes of a white man.” Another, a Muslim scholar of East Asian descent said, “that’s the first time I’ve looked at others and they didn’t avert their gaze.”
At that moment I realized something. As a Jew, I know I am an ethnic minority; that even if I don’t experience outright acts of antisemitism (which I know is not the case for everyone reading this, especially many of our college students), I am aware that I am the other, different, not part of the majority. As a white passing man, I usually can be like Clark Kent, blending into the crowd, while my Star of David remains hidden beneath my clothing and my kipa remains in my pocket. That is not the case for black and brown people.
I wish it were different. I wish people were seen for who they are and not what they are. I wish individuals were seen as the Torah describes the first human, made B’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God: unique, beautiful and worthy of love. I wish we lived in a time where truly all men [sic] were created equal instead of so often feeling like that Biblical verse has an asterisk over it.
We began our MEA journey as strangers. Some knew each other but most did not. We certainly did not know each other’s hearts. Now we do. We are now compadres, united in our common religious values while remaining deeply respectful of our differences. Hopefully – and this is my prayer – this is the beginning of something that will serve as an example of and a force for good, where we can build a world where every person can sit under their vine and fig tree and none will be afraid.
The road is long and rocky and there are many obstacles in our way but with God’s help and the support of each other, we might get there.
The Road to Lamy by Henry Monroe (Monroegallery.com)
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Daniel Gropper
Rabbi Daniel Gropper, DD serves as the spiritual leader of Community Synagogue in Rye, NY. He is married to Tamara, and is the father of Elijah, Shai and Noa. He attended his first MEA workshop in January 2023, and brings those teachings to the Jewish community.