After a vitriolic election, we should reflect on the issues motivating the electorate. Candidates appealed to voters with positions on economic reforms, immigration policy, and women’s rights. For Jews, I believe the most pressing issue was the sanctity of life. As democracy’s hallmarks guarantee safety for citizens, Jews supported defenders of democracy, would-be protectors of our lives and all human life.

Whenever Jews began to feel a semblance of comfort in a country, we were often jolted back to our foundational concern: the sanctity of life. Our sages advocated that life is sacred. However, the theological origins of that advocacy began in a dialogue between Abraham and God.

In Parshat Vayera, God reveals His intention to destroy the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah due to their pervasive evil. In a striking act of moral advocacy, Abraham argues for their salvation. Abraham understands life is sacred, exercising the democratic right of free speech to challenge God.

Abraham, an unpretentious shepherd, implored God to spare the cities even if there were only ten righteous people. In the face of overwhelming evil, Abraham’s passionate plea illustrated the sanctity of life and the responsibility to protect the innocent. Ten righteous souls were not found, yet Lot’s family was saved. The angels rescued Lot and his family, demonstrating that, even if only for a very few people, saving life is imperative. Just as God holds evil actors accountable, we advocate that innocent persons not be swept away too.

Protecting life reverberates throughout contemporary political discourse. Recognizing that Jewish lives have often been devalued in our history, we stand as witnesses to the importance of protecting life. Accordingly, today’s rabbinic voices echo Abraham’s advocacy, even extending it beyond our community to encompass all humanity. When the world acknowledges the sacredness of all life, Jews will also find safety. This hope underpins our historic commitment to human rights, rooted in the Torah, and reshaped into the framework of democracy.

Democratic values honor individuals as worthy of respect and protection. By championing these values, we transform freedoms from mere legal constructs into moral imperatives. For instance, the right to free speech is a cornerstone of our advocacy. After all, if Abraham could challenge the Almighty, then shouldn’t we have the right to express ourselves freely? Yet, the Torah also teaches that every moral principle has its limits.

The exchange between God and Abraham illustrates competing values can lead to complex moral dilemmas. God brings justice to the world, while Abraham channels temperance to protect the innocent.

Ultimately, all moral values encounter competing ethical considerations. For example, while we cherish free speech, we also condemn incitement to violence.

Today, the Jewish psyche grapples with existential challenges in American politics. Inflammatory rhetoric and incitement to violence threaten to undermine our democratic principles. The current discourse, marked by intimidation and incitement against political opponents, resonates deeply in our historical experience. Jews know that incendiary language can escalate into horrific realities. As we risk being victims to passions untethered to morality, our commitment to democracy must prevail.

To be Jewish in the legacy of Abraham is to advocate for life, to protect the innocent, to empower the vulnerable, and to defend the threatened. Our mission as Jews is to confront those in power just as Abraham did with God. That advocacy must propel the core principles of the Jewish faith: pursuing peace, respecting people, and protecting life. Democratic principles underscoring these Jewish values, began with Abraham’s advocacy.

Rabbi Evan J. Krame

Stories of your childhood might include misadventures and outbursts. Every child acts up or acts out. Learning to respond to life’s challenges fosters our maturity. Frustration, anger, or disbelief will rile us our entire lives. Mature adults learn to control their impetuous or immature reactions. The Torah teaches us to live with maturity, repair, and morality.

The narrative of Genesis presents a complex view of God, revealing a Creator infused with childlike wonder and reactivity. God created the world and declared, “This is good.” Yet, as soon as there is a misadventure, God metes out justice. Because Adam and Eve disobeyed God’s rules, God banished them from paradise.

For a while, God seems pleased enough. Upon observing rampant corruption, God upended the gameboard, sparing Noah, his family, and animal representatives. In restoring order to the world, God set a rainbow in the sky, as a promise never to destroy the earth again.

Examining these stories, I first found a God created in the image of humans. God ventured on a journey of growth, models the maturing process for us. Yet, that is a simple and pediatric view of God framed by human impetuosity.  The mature observer sees design behind a seemingly impulsive source of Creation.

Consider the expulsion from Eden: without it, humanity as we know it might not exist. This event triggered a series of transformations that populated the world.

But what of a God who destroys life, sparing only a select few? If viewed merely as a myth, this story might serve as a cautionary tale about the consequences of corrupt behavior. Alternatively, a dogmatic interpretation could portray a harsh, omnipotent Creator to be feared. Yet the flood narrative offers an instructive, profound theology of mistakes and redemption.

I do not adhere to a literal understanding of the flood; instead, I am drawn to the deeper meaning of moral and emotional evolution. The flood story reminds us that corruption is deserving of consequences. But the Judge, should mete out appropriate punishment. Even the Judge can reconsider the impact of a ruling. God did it.

We can commit to personal growth, cultivate morality, and repair damage we caused, even if in the name of justice or righteousness. That is why God models flawed behavior, not perfect behavior, so that we can know that to emulate God is to be on a path of growth and maturity.

With every storm, there is the promise of a rainbow, symbolizing hope for the future born of the possibility that, like God, we can improve.

Rabbi Evan J. Krame

I need a little more inspiration to get me through these High Holidays. Focusing only on my failings and foibles feels precariously narrow-minded. The Days of Awe are more awesome when we focus on the purpose of change. To truly improve, my inner work should serve something greater than myself.  The challenge is to embrace my status as an agent of God.

In the very last words, the Torah describes Moses as an agent of God, an Ish Elohim ( אִ֥ישׁ הָאֱלֹהִ֖ים ). As an agent of God, Moses was humble. From shepherd of sheep to the nation’s leader, Moses served, focusing on grander goals and holy purposes. When Moses’ anguish got in the way of his leadership, his agency had to end.

Throughout Jewish history, seemingly ordinary people served as God’s agents. Joseph went from the pit to the platform of Egyptian power, ultimately saving his family from famine. Esther saved the Jewish people, challenging a King and confronting evil Haman to rescue the Jews from destruction.

People can still be agents of deliverance. I think of people like Marian Wright Edelman and the Children’s Defense Fund, or Bono and his commitment to end poverty on a global scale. Perhaps, the greatest agent of God in the twentieth century was Martin Luther King, Jr. In his final speech (reminiscent of Moses) Dr. King, stated “I just want to do God’s will.  And he’s allowed me to go to the mountain.  And I’ve looked over, and I’ve seen the Promised Land!  I may not get there with you, but I want you to know that we, as a people, will get to the promised land.” All of them came from relatively humble beginnings.

Each of us can serve as God’s agents in the world today. We don’t have to be big-name rock stars, lawyers, writers, or activists to be used by God. All we need is a willingness to undertake two pursuits. We have to be willing to serve as agents for a godly purpose. And we have to align with values of caring, compassion, decency and dignity.

When God chose Moses, he was an ordinary shepherd.  All he did was respond to the call of God. God provided the way for Moses to deliver the Hebrews. That is what God asks of us. The shofar’s fragmented blasts remind us that this world is broken and our hearts are breaking. The Torah reminds us that most ordinary of people might just be the agent of change that delivers a better world. These High Holidays are asking, “Are you willing to be that person?”

Rabbi Evan J. Krame

Autocrats and their minions rule five dozen countries today. What is surprising to me is that most were elected to govern. Judicious and freedom-loving people are baffled by the eagerness to be governed by a strongman. Perhaps, there is no surprise as that impulse to give away power to a dictator is as old as the Torah.

At the precipice of entering the Promised Land, Moses warns the people about giving power to a king.

כִּֽי־תָבֹ֣א אֶל־הָאָ֗רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֨ר יְהֹוָ֤ה אֱלֹהֶ֙יךָ֙ נֹתֵ֣ן לָ֔ךְ וִֽירִשְׁתָּ֖הּ וְיָשַׁ֣בְתָּה בָּ֑הּ וְאָמַרְתָּ֗ אָשִׂ֤ימָה עָלַי֙ מֶ֔לֶךְ כְּכׇל־הַגּוֹיִ֖ם אֲשֶׁ֥ר סְבִיבֹתָֽי׃

“If, after you have entered the land that your God יהוה has assigned to you, and taken possession of it and settled in it, you decide, “I will set a king over me, as do all the nations about me,”  Deut. 17:14

Notice the subtlety revealed by the language. While addressing the nation, Moses notes that individuals will decide to have a king. This warning reminds us that individuals are complicit in delivering power to a ruler, just as the Germans elected Hitler. Subsequently, in history, dozens of dictators have used the electoral system to take power.

The Torah sets limits on the kind of person who should serve as king. The King should not have too many horses (wealth) or too many wives (greed and lust).  Rather, the King should keep a copy of the Torah at their side. “Thus he will not act haughtily toward his fellows or deviate from the Instruction to the right or to the left, to the end that he and his descendants may reign long in the midst of Israel.”

Of course, Solomon, the third king to rule, had a surfeit of both horses and wives. Both his wisdom and hubris were on full display. Perhaps it is also a character trait of those who would be rulers to consolidate and even abuse power.

While the Hebrew Kings were born to their station as descendants of David, modern autocrats most often pursue power through electoral processes. It has happened in Hungary, Egypt, Venezuela, Turkey, Pakistan, Malaysia and Nigeria. Perhaps anyone who pursues power should be suspect. In order to establish a foothold, they manufacture crises to legitimize their rule. Then, these autocrats subvert democracy by weaponizing their public support. According to Alexander Matovksi, “By mimicking democracy – allowing multiparty elections, oppositions and somewhat free markets and media – they [keep] authoritarianism alive in most places across the world.” The electoral process should serve as a check on the impertinence and even despotic nature of some politicians. A free press questions their motives. Campaign speeches reveal their personalities. And a reported history of public service portrays their skills.

Once again, the Torah is a great predictor of our times. Some people living in a blessed land like the United States are willing to elect a self-styled King. The Torah warns us this time of year, corresponding to campaign season, that we should not give power to despotic rulers.

Rabbi Evan J. Krame