The words of Hamilton echo in my ears, amidst shouts for justice, for Syria, for immigrants, for people of color, for the poor and huddled masses. Our forefathers, in America, weren’t blind to the plight of the underdog. They themselves were immigrants fighting for their right to exist. They fought a war without knowing if they would live past tomorrow, and, in a twist of fate; they won. They won our independence, and we gained our Promised Land; these United States. As some of you may know, there is a Hamilton Haggadah making the rounds of seders this year. As our country struggles to examine what it means to be a country of immigrants, and in the midst of Passover, where we explore our own Mitzrayim, what enslaves us today, Hamilton, and it’s message may grant us the inspiration and strength to rise up.
At times throughout our history as a country, and as a people, diverse and often at odds with one another, we have been forced to ask what do we stand for? Our constitution and the values it represents have shaped our identity as a nation. The question, however is what do we stand for today? Lin Manuel-Miranda’s take on Alexander Hamilton has taken our country and the world by storm. Not only does the story depict the rise of an immigrant to the highest echelons of society and government, but it also represents a diverse cast, filled with people of all shapes and sizes and colors. There is no question that Hamilton the Musical stands for diversity, for untold stories, and for justice. In Aaron Burr, Sir, Hamilton asks “If you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for?” Although, if you’ve seen or heard the musical, you know it foreshadows Burr’s downfall, it is also a reminder of our own identity crisis as a country. What do we stand for today, many generations after Washington, Jefferson, Madison, and Hamilton?
As we sit around our seder tables this year, we are propelled backwards into the land of Egypt, where our ancestors toiled and cried out to God, who redeemed us from Pharaoh with a mighty hand. We are not a people unfamiliar with slavery, with the cries of the enslaved praying for freedom. We know what it is to Rise up, to rise up against Pharaoh in every generation, to defeat Amalek, to fight for the downtrodden wherever we encounter injustice.
In this way, our Jewish selves and our American selves are not so dissimilar. America has always stood for freedom, whether we achieve it or not is another question. Our history is speckled with failures in that regard; slavery, Jim Crow, Japanese Internment Camps, the Trail of Tears, only to name a few. Yet, our ideals remain lofty, even if we can only say that based on a poem on a statue, the Statue of Liberty.
Emma Lazarus’ poem, the New Colossus was published in 1883 to raise money for the pedestal for the Statue of Liberty. It was later engraved on the pedestal in 1903.
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
(http://www.libertystatepark.com/emma.htm)
The words of a Jewish woman ring out in our ears reminding us of the promise of a promised land, and the need to move from slavery to freedom. At the same time, we cannot ignore the fact that not many years after this poem was placed on the pedestal of Statue of Liberty, our country began to limit the number of Jews and other groups who could enter the country, beginning one of a number of periods of isolationism.
This is not a moment, it’s the movement
Where all the hungriest brothers with
Something to prove went?
Foes oppose us, we take an honest stand
We roll like Moses, claimin’ our promised land
And? If we win our independence?
Is that a guarantee of freedom for our descendants?
Or will the blood we shed begin an endless
Cycle of vengeance and death with no defendants?
Today, all across the country people are standing up for what they believe in. They are rising up against racial injustice, against discrimination, and even going so far as to give shelter to illegal immigrants who are frightened that they will be separated from their families, especially their American born children.
On April 13th, the second day of Chol HaMoed Pesach, several rabbis were among more than 30 protestors arrested in downtown LA for civil disobedience to create awareness of the treatment of undocumented immigrants. The protest sought to point a finger directly at ICE rather than at the LAPD. These rabbis and those who stood with them were rising up. Whether we agree with the actions of these rabbis or not, it is still up to us to stand for freedom in our own ways, to rise up in the defense of the defenseless (www.jewishjournal.com).
This week, as we avoid eating things that have risen, perhaps it is our time to rise up, to guarantee freedom for our descendants, to prevent the cycle of vengeance and violence, to claim our Promised Land for all who seek its shores, just as our people did standing on the shores of the Red Sea. May this Passover be for us a time of reflection on what we stand for, a moment and a movement to stand for freedom. May we find within ourselves the strength to rise up, to stand for something, to help to define what our country stands for today, freedom and justice for all.
(https://genius.com/Lin-manuel-miranda-my-shot-lyrics#note-7872969)
Rabbi Bailey Romano 