There Shall Be No Needy, Conclusion: Justice and the Justice System

I'm going to skip over the chapter of There Shall Be No Needy that deals with the environment, because although Jacobs explicitly recognizes that it may be the issue of the 21st century for many Jews, she can only speak about it in general terms. Plus, there have been many books specifically on the topic since hers came out.

The part about the justice system struck me in a personal way.

When my brother, Cantor Ron Fischman, was killed during the Days of Awe in 2014, one of the things I learned was how many people have had a death by violence in the family. Not as many among white, Jewish, and middle-class people,  but in some communities (especially impoverished and racialized communities), it can be impossible not to know someone whose father, mother, brother, or cousin, was killed. For many families, having a perpetrator in the family (and often, in prison) is also a fact of life. I was amazed how sheltered I had been from this reality.

Rabbi Jill Jacobs points out that the U.S. imprisons more people per capita than perhaps any other country in the world, and not only do we do it whether the crime rate is rising or falling, it has no effect on that rise and fall. From a Jewish perspective, that we continue to incarcerate people is inexplicable.

In Jewish history and halakhah, imprisonment is hardly heard of it. Some crimes, like murder and rape, officially require a death sentence, even if it has hardly ever been carried out. Most crimes against persons and property call for monetary fines only. And she points out that when a person truly carries out teshuvah (repentance), it's considered a good idea to waive the fines, to prevent people from avoiding the process of self-scrutiny, confession, and making amends because it could cost them!)

Imprisonment is barely a part of the Jewish tradition, and mainly in the last few hundred years: a blink of the eye in our 4,000-year history. The emphasis is on a) making cities safe places to live; b) treating perpetrators as human and even "our brother," too; and c) promoting rehabilitation.

So what? Except for Israel (which is a secular state and does not operate according to Jewish law), there is not one place in the world where Jews have a majority voice on making policy. What difference does it make whether or not you and I know what the Jewish tradition has to say on all these issues of social justice?

If nothing else, it is important to let our fellow citizens know that conservative and even reactionary positions are not equivalent to being religious or moral. We are currently seeing that in the sphere of reproductive justice. I am proud of the Jewish organizations that have not only spoken up in public but in court, saying that denying pregnant people access to abortions is preventing some Jews from doing what they are morally supposed to do in certain situations under Jewish law. As the car magnet that the National Council of Jewish Women sent me says to everyone who looks at the back of my car: "Abortion bans are against my religion!"

Thanks to Rabbi Jacobs and the organization she currently leads, T'ruah, for making the point that religious traditions can inspire us to work for liberty and justice for all.

There Shall Be No Needy, Part 7: Society, Heal Thyself!

The importance of providing health care is such an assumption in the Jewish culture I grew up in that I was surprised to learn it was ever debated--but that just goes to show you how in Judaism, everything is open to debate! In chapter 7 of There Shall Be No Needy,  Rabbi Jill Jacobs gives respect to the minority view that it is up to God to heal sickness (not wounds), or that once upon a time in the age of prophecy that was the case. She rightly states that the overwhelming sentiment is that medicine is a mitzvah, for at least two reasons:

1. We were made in the image of God. Whoever heals a human being is doing a good thing on a cosmic scale!
2. Our bodies are our most valuable possessions. If it's a mitzvah to return my book, my coat, or my donkey that I have lost, what a greater good deed it is to return my health!

Ordinarily we don't pay someone for doing a mitzvah. As she has established in earlier chapters, however, rabbinic opinion is that Jewish communities can organize and regulate themselves for the sake of tikkun olam, which in this case means "to establish a health care system in which doctors and other potential lifesavers feel motivated to operate at their highest capacity, and in which patients can be expected to afford their treatments." But as she remarks:

These texts are especially troubling to read in contemporary American, where an inefficient and profit-driven health care system simultaneously makes it difficult for doctors to treat uninsured patients without risking their own livelihoods and prevents many patients from being able to afford needed medical care and medicine. (170-171)

As usual, Jacobs holds the U.S. to the standards she can find in the Jewish tradition and finds it wanting. Just to be clear, the Affordable Care Act passed the year after this book was published, yet I suspect it would not fundamentally alter her assessment: she is arguing that as Jews, we must demand much more from our society. In fact, she implies that any system that involves paying health insurance companies and having them make profit-driven decisions about health care is not acceptable by Jewish standards.

There Shall Be No Needy, Part 6: What makes a home?

As a former tenant and a longtime landlord, as someone who worked at an agency that prevented eviction and as a member of a city commission against housing discrimination, I have been acutely aware of issues around housing and homelessness. In There Shall Be No Needy, Rabbi Jill Jacobs shows that you don't have to have had my life experience to see those issues as Jewish issues. They are deeply rooted in Jewish experience and Jewish text.

I don't altogether buy her argument that "the lack of a secure home" because of exile has created a Jewish sensitivity to homelessness. The two situations are not comparable. At most, when we reflect on how distraught our ancestors were on being expelled from the land and how much it disrupted their whole society, we can understand that losing one's apartment or house, today, is not just a personal tragedy. That is important to realize, I agree.

Here are some other, stronger points that Jacobs makes about the search for housing justice being rooted in Jewish values:

• Rabbinic texts assume that even poor people who have no food have homes. (Again, how deeply this is a criticism of contemporary American life, where that assumption is invalid!)
• Poor people cannot be required to give up their homes to receive assistance (tzedakah). Instead, the rest of us are under an obligation to make sure they can live in those homes in dignity.
  
• There is a model of what permanent housing is NOT: the sukkah. Houses that let the rain in, that have no heat, that are unsafe to live in for extended periods of time, are not homes, and providing such housing is not justice.
• There is a model of what a permanent home IS: the kind of place where we must affix a mezuzah. She summarizes Maimonides' definition; it must be of adequate size, and:
  

A permanent home, in Rambam's description, must have doors and a roof so that the residents be protected from the elements and from other potential dangers, such as robbers. Finally, just as a sukkah should be constructed with the intention that it be temporary, a home must be constructed with the intention that it be a permanent dwelling place. According to these requirements, it may be that transitional housing, FEMA trailers, shelters, and other nonpermanent or unsafe residences would not qualify as homes... (144)

•  The commandment to build a guardrail around a flat roof shows "a house should protect people, to the greatest degree possible, from all potential danger. Concern for human life must, literally, be built into the fabric of the house." (145)
• Landlords have a deep and broad responsibility to ensure the place they rent out is safe and secure. We also have an obligation to prevent homelessness. This is not like renting out an animal (or a car). We have a commanded role to play in creating housing stability.
• The federal government has had a long, evil history of creating racial segregation in housing and evicting poor communities en masse from their neighborhoods. (For a much more detailed discussion of this history, I recommend The Color of Law, by Richard Rothstein.) Therefore, we as a country must do teshuvah, repentance, for the sin of creating a racially biased housing crisis, creating homelessness and not preventing it.
  

There Shall Be No Needy: How does she get that from the sources?

If you've been following my summaries of There Shall Be No Needy by Rabbi Jill Jacobs here, here, here, here, and even here, you might be wondering: how does Rabbi Jacobs arrive at her conclusions? Are they predetermined, so that she goes looking for a prooftext to support them, or what is her method of reading Torah, Talmud, and other sources?

I admire the author's intellectual honesty. She is quite open about the fact that it's possible to derive different conclusions from the same texts. In chapter 5, for example, she points out that conservative commentators can look at rabbinic sayings about the need to follow minhag hamakom, the custom of the land, and argue that it means "let the market decide."  (She offers a quite different reading of minhag hamakom--in her view, it authorizes local living wage laws, for example--but she gives the sources for the opposing view. See page 109 and footnotes thereon.)

Over and above the close reading of texts, however, Rabbi Jacobs offers us this overall approach: repeatedly, she points out how the current situation in the U.S. denies the basic assumptions on which halakhah is based. Therefore:

Given the discrepancy between halakhic obligations on workers and the contemporary reality, we are confronted with two possibilities. We can either reconsider the halakhic [requirements], or we can accept the current reality as a challenge to traditional halakhah and in turn, use halakhah to critique the present-day situation. [my emphasis]

If applying halakhah in the U.S. capitalist society of the 21st century produces unjust results, then it is the society that has to change.

From this standpoint, she can make an argument using traditional Jewish sources that Jews should not only allow but actively encourage union membership,  require employers to hire union workers, and use the power of government to set wages, hours, and benefits in favor of the more vulnerable party, the workers. 

She can also use the text "Remember that you were slaves in Egypt" and say, remember that you were in the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire--and in every major strike--and let that memory steer your moral intuition about how to act today.

If the book reaches conclusions that are conducive to liberal politics in the U.S., it is because liberality is deeply rooted in the Jewish tradition.