My Shabbat Sermon

Posted at 4:30 PM, Friday, January 23, 2009

In August of 1963, my parents had an argument. A large rally for jobs, justice, and peace was planned on the Mall in Washington, DC, only a few miles from their home. Hundreds of thousands of people were expected to gather to hear fromprominent civil rights leaders, including the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. My mother was keen to attend. My father felt it was a bad idea. There were rumors that some of the demonstrators might resort to violence, and he feared for her safety. In a typical early-60s moment, he declared that the wisest course of action was for her to go to work, and for him to attend alone. My mother went off to work fuming, while my father joined with an estimated crowd of 200,000 to hear Dr. King deliver his iconic “I have a dream” speech. He still has the button from that day. I do believe my mother has now forgiven him.

This last week, my parents had another argument. My father wanted to attend the inauguration of President Barack Obama. My mother felt it was too cold, and my father isn’t as young as he used to be. This time, she stayed home by choice, invited friends over, and opened a bottle of champagne. My father, meanwhile, dressed in seven layers, arrived at the Mall at around 8:00 a.m. and stood in the cold until 11:00 a.m waiting for the official events to start up. When I spoke with him to get a report, he had a difficult time articulating the experience, but clearly it was an extraordinary one. Apparently, nearly five hours of -6 degrees was in no way uncomfortable or boring, since a carnival atmosphere prevailed. The people around him were dancing and singing, and the spirit of celebration was warm enough to melt any frozen hearts. He was absolutely elated to have been a part of things.

I can think of few times in my lifetime when people around the world have felt connected by a single, transforming event. The last time was the 2004 Tsunami, and before that was September 11. But how many times have we seen the world caught up in a sense of joy and hope? In her column in the New York Times, Gail Collins described her experience of the inaguration as “Woodstock without the mud.” But she wrote “The big difference was in the national reaction. The only people who felt unified during Woodstock were those who were there — everybody else was horrified or jealous. But the inauguration left the whole country glued together emotionally, one big American ball of hope.”

And, of course, we know that ball of hope extended far beyond the shores of the United States. I listened on Wednesday as callers to 891 Adelaide with strong Aussie accents reported climbing out of bed at 3:00 a.m. to watch the inaguration. I confess I slept through it. But I have been deeply touched and moved to see how this one day in world history seems to have gone a long way in moving citizens of the world to believe we are entering an era of renewed American leadership and integrity. I hope it will be so.

1963 was two years before I was born. The whole school photograph taken when I was in year eight and now displayed on my Facebook page shows a remarkably integrated student body, with faces of every colour. Segregation and prejudice have never been a part of my personal story. But together with the rest of the world, I share a pride and sense of ownership in the triumph of a political and national sensibility that has allowed an African-American to ascend to the most powerful office in the world less than fifty years after the Voting Rights Act made it illegal to keep blacks from voting. It is my victory as well.

My hope and prayer now is that we will see a revolution around the world that will sweep the disenfranchised into public office. Perhaps now we will see Tunisians elected in France, Pakistanis elected in England, and maybe even Koreans elected in Japan. Australia has come a long way since it ended the White Australia policy, but we have yet to see a prime minister who doesn’t have a distinctly British last name. Who will shatter that glass ceiling here?

In this week’s Torah portion, Moses and Aaron take up in earnest the daunting task of persuading Pharoah to free the Jewish people from slavery. Although Moses has been brought up as royalty, he and Aaron speak as slaves to the most powerful man in the world. They triumph in the end, but only because of God’s supernatural intervention. One reason the story resonates so strongly is that the odds are so thoroughly stacked against a nation of slaves winning its freedom. The story of President Obama’s rise has the same mythical quality to it. Aside from the colour of his skin, I am surprised and delighted to see the United States under the leadership of a man bearing such an exuberantly ethnic name. For me, the most remarkable moment in the inauguration came when the deeply conservative Chief Justice Roberts recited the words, “Repeat after me: I Barack Hussein Obama do solemnly swear.”

None of this changes the perilous situation of the world, and of the United States in particular. But hope can be a powerful weapon against despair, and we certainly need it now.