Rabbi Isaac
Serotta
In the Torah we read that Israel left Egypt
with a “mixed multitude.” It is one of many examples in the Torah to teach us that God loves
diversity. Despite the idea that we are a band of brothers, all descendants of
one of the 12 sons of Jacob that become 12 tribes, this phrase “mixed
multitude” reminds us that we were already an ethnically and racially diverse
people. We were already a mix of different customs and stories.
There are
stories, going all the way back to creation when God makes all of the creatures
of the earth, which are meant to teach us that God loves diversity. Our tradition even teaches that the first
human was one and then divided into two, a text that suggests diversity even
within a single species. When we get to the Tower of Babel, and the creation of
a diversity of languages, we are meant to understand that God wants us to be of
many cultures, languages and faiths. It is also true that God wants us to
transcend those barriers, respect others and come to love our diversity and
overcome our differences.
This story
comes around every year but it has particular resonance right now. On an
international level, as our country debates the fate of dreamers and legal
immigration, the respect for difference and the love of diversity is very
important. Our national motto, e pluribus
unum, out of many, one—teaches us that our founders knew that strength does
not come from being all alike. Strength comes from embracing all equally.
That is why
when our president denigrates people who come from other countries, when he
misrepresents both the vetting process that goes into the immigration lottery
and family immigration, I feel the need to speak up on behalf of the “mixed
multitude.” While the president focuses on Africa and Haiti today, it is
worthwhile to remember that Jewish immigrants were also considered unworthy in
the not so distant past.
In 1924 the Congressional
Committee on Immigration received a report calling Jews “filthy,” and of “low physical
and mental standards.” They were “un-American.” As a result, Congress cut
immigration from Eastern and Southern Europe. In 1921 over 100,000 Jews came to
America; after the bill passed in 1924 that number became 10,000. Because of
these laws, when Hitler came to power, Jews were forbidden entry into the
United States. Our action as a nation made us complicit in the genocide in
Europe.
Our
ancestors came to this country to make a better life for themselves and their
families. How often have we told the stories of our own relatives who made it
here, saved up money, and sponsored as many members of their families as they
could? Who knows how many were saved by the industrious and righteous actions
of those immigrants?
Now there
are other nations in distress, and other immigrants who would come here to
build a better life. We should not shun them in favor of more blondes from
Denmark or fashion models from Slovenia. Instead we should see the difficult
conditions in Haiti, the Middle East, and parts of Africa as a reason to let
people in rather than keep them out.
Our ancestors were considered low and yet we see what these immigrants did for our country. Every study of immigrants shows what we know in our hearts about our own families. Immigrants work hard, as the musical Hamilton reminds us, “We get the job done.” A mixed multitude was good for our ancestors leaving Egypt and it is good for us in America today.
On a more
personal level, God’s love for diversity, is a part of Lakeside’s tradition in
the past, present and future. We have embraced many people in our congregation
from diverse backgrounds. People of many faiths are welcome in our community. We
embrace gender diversity. We embrace Jews of all hues, from all streams of our
tradition.
We have
cooperated with most of the synagogues around us on educational, spiritual,
social, and justice programs. In the Jewish community we also believe in e pluribus unum, although our tradition
words it a bit differently, Kol Yisrael
arevim zeh l’zeh—All of the children of Israel are responsible for one
another.
As an
opportunity comes along to unite two congregations, we are like those people leaving
ancient Egypt. We don’t all know each other. Not yet. But we know that we are
responsible for one another. We are a mixed multitude. In a sense we are tribes
that recognize a common goal and believe that together we can do greater things
than we can on our own.
When that
mixed multitude reaches the sea, the way forward becomes clear. The midrash tells us that the sea didn’t
just split, revealing a clear path. It was not until the Israelites stepped
into the water, took a leap into the unknown that the road stood revealed. We
are taking that step, like immigrants leaving home, like slaves testing the
limits of freedom. Each step we take begins to show us the beauty of the path
ahead.
