Father’s Day

In about an hour, my husband and I will start getting dressed for a Father’s Day brunch with four of our five children–number five, who lives in Manhattan, will be missing in person but with us in spirit.

There are many things one can say about the role of fathers or stepfathers in the lives of their children, and we will hear many of them today, if for no other reason than the fact the media will bombard us with Father’s Day sentiments. But I was struck this morning reading remarks made by Newark Mayor Cory Booker to the graduating class at Bard College. Booker–who is one of the truly impressive public servants of our time–shared a contemplation on the wisdom of his father, and I think it is well worth sharing.

“My dad would always tease me: ‘Boy, don’t you walk around here like you hit a triple. You were born on third base, boy.’ ..I drink deeply from wells of freedom and liberty that I did not dig. I eat lavishly from banquet tables prepared for me by my ancestors. I sit under the shadow of trees that were planted and cultivated and cared for by those who I will never know.”

The really good fathers, the ones who make a lasting difference, are the good citizens who–without celebrity or fanfare–protect our liberties, participate in building our communities, and plant trees under which they will never sit, trees that will shadow their children and grandchildren. Those really good fathers raise children who acknowledge their debt to those who have plowed the ground they plant, and accept their own obligation to “pay it forward.”

Our children have been blessed to have a father/stepfather like that.

Have a great Father’s Day.

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Deja Vu All Over Again

Later today, I am participating in a discussion at the Indianapolis Interfaith Center on Shari’a Law. Given the current hostility to Islam, and its usefulness for some as a wedge issue, the presentations should be interesting.

When I first became aware of the passage of state laws prohibiting courts from applying Sharia law, my first reaction was “it’s déjà vu all over again.”  I grew up Jewish in Anderson, Indiana. There were a total of 30 Jewish families in Anderson, and growing up I fielded questions like “do Jews have tails?” and “do Jews live in houses like ‘real’ people?” Less naïve—and nastier—comments assumed Jews’ dual loyalty—and implicitly, that our commitment to Israel would trump our allegiance to the United States. Essentially, these folks were sure Jews constituted a disloyal “fifth column,” not to be trusted.

It hasn’t only been Jews who were subject to these suspicions. I was in college during JFK’s campaign for President, and several people explained to me that if he won, the Pope would rule America, that Catholicism was incompatible with Americanism, and that Catholics were amassing weapons in church basements. (They never said whether those weapons would be used if Kennedy won or lost…)

More recently, we’ve all heard the anti-immigrant rhetoric about Latinos. “They” won’t learn our language, “they” will change America’s culture. (No one seems all that angry about Canadians).

It’s probably human nature to fear and demonize the “other.” My son-in-law’s mother, who lives in northern England, has a friend who doesn’t trust “those people” from outside Yorkshire. When my husband’s pocket was picked in Spain, a nice man from Barcelona explained that it was undoubtedly the work of the Moroccans. But whatever evolutionary benefits such instincts conferred on us humans in the past, these fears of people who don’t look or act or believe like us have really become counter-productive.

My own history with this constant suspicion of “otherness” informs the perspective I bring to the silly anti-Sharia laws popping up around the country. Those laws typically prohibit the use of Sharia (or often simply “foreign”) law in our courts. I am firmly convinced that, in addition to the obvious bigotry/jingoism, widespread civic illiteracy goes a long way toward explaining passage of these measures.

If there is one thing I have learned after 14 years of teaching law and policy, it is that this country faces a frightening deficit of knowledge about our governing institutions. This is another example. The people agitating for these laws and the legislators who pass them have no idea what courts do, or how law works.

If I die leaving instructions to divide my estate in accordance with Islamic law, are the Courts forbidden to enforce my will? If I enter into a contract with someone from France and we both agree that French law will govern any disputes that arise, must American courts ignore our agreement? If orthodox Jews voluntarily take a dispute to the Beth Din–a Jewish arbitration tribunal–shouldn’t American courts enforce that tribunal’s decision in the same way that they routinely enforce the increasing numbers of business arbitrations?

The First Amendment’s Free Exercise Clause requires American courts to abstain from deciding purely religious disputes; they will not take jurisdiction over arguments growing out of religious doctrine, for example. And religious belief cannot successfully be used as a defense in cases where American laws have been broken. “God wanted me to blow up that building” doesn’t cut it in a court of law, no matter whose God we’re talking about.

The passage of legislation to prevent the “imposition” of Sharia law rests on profound misunderstanding of the operation of law and the role of the courts.

Of course, these measures are also a great example of the “elephant” story we’ve all heard: a man is sitting in his living room making weird circles in the air. Someone asks him what he’s doing. “Keeping the elephants away.” The questioner protests, “But there are no elephants”–to which the man responds triumphantly, “See. It works!”

During my own lifetime, I’ve seen American society get over its fear of Jews and Catholics and various “others,” and I have some confidence that we’ll live through the hysteria over Muslims aka “Islamic terrorists.” But a little civic literacy and common sense–and a little less “deja vu”– would be very welcome right now.

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Hastening Mortality

Today is Memorial Day.

Usually, I don’t spend as much time as I should pondering the sacrifices of the men and women we are memorializing; like most Americans, I welcome a three-day weekend and perhaps, as this year, a cookout with my children and grandchildren. This Memorial Day, however, a death in my own family has me contemplating not just our inevitable mortality, but the numerous human behaviors that hasten the inevitable.

Today, of course, the national focus is on war, and the loss of young men and women in the very primes of their lives. As a parent, I can’t begin to imagine the pain of losing a child, especially in war. Wondering if he suffered at the end, wondering what sort of life she might have lived had she survived. As a member of society, I can only wonder what sorts of contributions to the common good we’ve gone without–what budding artist or inventor or entrepreneur was lost to us through combat.

Wars are not all avoidable; there are just wars. But those unavoidable conflicts are few and far between. The wars of choice, the wars begun by small men with big delusions, by impatient men unwilling to engage in diplomatic problem-solving, have cost so many precious lives that didn’t need to be lost.

It isn’t only through war that we hasten our own demise, of course.  We humans participate in a veritable shmorgasbord of self-destructive behaviors.

The cousin who died yesterday was a bright, delightful, witty woman. (I still remember one conversation about an elderly aunt and uncle who were divorcing after some 50 years of marriage. When I wondered “why now?” she shot back “They were waiting for the children to die.”) Everyone loved Ann–she was classy and warm and outgoing. But even though she knew better, she smoked. Like a chimney. Eventually, she developed lung cancer that metastasized to her brain. It isn’t a pleasant way to go.

So many of us are like my cousin; we can’t seem to break behaviors we know are bad for us. We smoke, we overeat, we drink to excess, we drink and drive….We start wars. We get really good at rationalizing self-destructive, often suicidal behaviors.

On this Memorial Day, I’m wondering what it is about the human condition that makes so many of us act in ways that hasten the inevitable–and what, if anything, we can do about it.

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Voting on the Word of God

My husband and I attended a “Straight for Equality” event sponsored by PFLAG yesterday. PFLAG–for those who don’t know the acronym–stands for Parents, Friends and Families of Lesbians and Gays; the organization has 350+ chapters in the US and abroad.  “Straight for Equality” is an advocacy campaign the national organization has just launched.

The President of the national board this year is one Rabbi Horowitz, who actually was the assistant Rabbi at Indianapolis Hebrew Congregation back in the 1970s. He was an entertaining speaker, if a bit long-winded (a common “clerical error”). As he made his pitch for taking the “Straight for Equality” campaign into faith communities, he said something that struck me as both totally new and–upon reflection–self-evidently true.

He said the word of God is subject to vote.

Think about it: The way congregations read their holy books is inescapably influenced by the culture the congregants inhabit. It wasn’t so long ago that most Christian denominations read the bible to require racial segregation and the subordination of women. Some still do, but the vast majority no longer interpret the text in that way. The culture changed, and so did religious people’s understanding of God’s commandments.

When I was researching God and Country, my book about the unrecognized religious roots of contemporary policy preferences, I quickly recognized that even our most fundamentalist contemporary Christians, those who insist the bible is the literal word of God and thus unchanging (God presumably also handled the various translations), hold beliefs that would be shocking heresies to fundamentalists who lived 100 years ago.

We are all creatures of our times. We share the sensibilities of our cultures no matter how stubbornly we resist, and we bring those sensibilities to our interpretations of religious texts.

When enough members of a congregation recognize both the humanity of gay people and the justice of their claim to equality, those members’ attitudes–their “votes”– change doctrine. We’ve seen plenty of examples, as one denomination after another reinterprets rules that previously kept gays from being ordained or married. That process will inevitably continue, no matter how hysterically some try to fight it.

I had always thought of this as the process of social change. The Rabbi calls it “voting on God’s word.”

However we think about it, it reflects the reality that we humans create gods in our own image–which is a good reason to get serious about self-improvement.

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Different Worlds

One of my husband’s favorite stories about his college years concerns a wealthy fraternity brother who, upon learning of the pregnancy of another  member’s wife, congratulated him and asked him whether the happy couple had hired a governess yet.

A couple of days ago, Mitt Romney spoke to a group of college students worried about student loan interest rates. Among other bits of advice, he encouraged those of an entrepreneurial bent to take the plunge and start businesses. How? “Borrow the capital from your parents at a favorable interest rate.”

And while they are at it, perhaps they can borrow a bit extra to pay the governess…

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