Annual General Meeting—JIAS
1
December 2015 ~ Kislev 5776
Growing up in America, I was, of course, more familiar with HIAS, but
have always admired the work of JIAS. As the child of an immigrant to the
United States and as an immigrant to Toronto, I was aware of the important work
of JIAS with Jewish immigrants in the first half of the 20th century, its
heroic efforts for post-Holocaust refugees, its dedicated service for Jews from
the former Soviet Union and its commitment to serve all immigrants to Canada
as part of Jewish humanitarian concerns for the general welfare of this great
country.
Your work helps new immigrants to navigate the culture of Canada, develop language skills, become economic providers, and connect to the community. This resonates deeply with my personal history and much of my own rabbinic work.
It is important to recognize that while JIAS may work with an immigrant family for only a few years, the impact of a successful resettlement and integration into Canada has ramifications for many generations. As someone concerned with the ability of young people to find a pathway to work and career, I want to emphasize that the guidance and job counselling JIAS provides is of huge importance to the self-worth and development of these developing adults.
Poverty
Having grown up in poverty, I am sensitive to its presence in the Toronto Jewish community. The children who go to school hungry in the morning. The Holocaust survivors who count their pennies when shopping. The former Russian Jews who came to Canada for freedom but lack food. The woman who places kiddush crumbs into her purse after Shabbat services.
The families who depend on kosher food packages for their Shabbat tables and spring deliveries to make Pesaẖ. The single mom trying to hold onto a low-paying job and care for her child. The alcohol and chemical dependent individuals seeking to stay clean, but without work. The mentally ill who wander in and out of treatment facilities. The homeless Jews fed at Out of the Cold. The hungry Jews who draw upon our food banks. The unemployed father struggling to take care of his family. The unseen Jews who live in the cracks and crevices of our city.
Approximately 13 percent of Toronto Jews live in poverty, mirroring statistics throughout Canada. These poor Jews are doubly invisible. They are often unrecognized by the general public who believe that “all Jews are rich” and unnoticed by Jews who imagine that government cares for the displaced and downtrodden. As individuals and a community, we have an obligation to see the faces of the poor and to recognize in their faces the image of God.
The Jewish tradition is aware of the great difficulties that poor people face. A midrashic observation notes that “If all the afflictions in the world were assembled on one side of a scale and poverty on the other, poverty would equal them all” (Exodus Rabbah, Mishpatim 31:14). The Talmud teaches that poverty is “one of three things that drive a person crazy.” It erodes the human being as it negatively shapes a person's life experiences. (Eruvin 41b)
The ethical challenge then confronts us: what will we do? What can we ask of ourselves? While none of us may be able to single-handedly resolve the refugee crisis or end poverty, we can play a role. To fight poverty, you must recognize the nature of the problem and the many of issues that contribute to poverty. These include unemployment, low wages, access to education, discrimination, lack of affordable housing and more.
Even after understanding the problem, we will not be able to solve poverty globally, nationally or even in our neighbourhood. JIAS has chosen a specific set of issues to work on in a way that is compelling to us and to others. However, given the complicated nature of poverty, we cannot focus on a single symptom. JIAS must work in concert with UJA Federation and its agencies, federal and provincial governments, other social service providers and generous individuals, to address complex causes and making a dent in the symptoms.
Most of you are familiar with the teaching of Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon regarding eight levels of tzedakah, the highest of which is helping a person to become self-sufficient whether by a loan, a partnership or a job. In addition to helping people to help themselves, we also need to ask how we might create a society in which full-time workers can earn enough money to support a family. That is a larger question which we need not answer tonight, but should consider.
I believe that we can be better as a society and a Jewish community. We are pushed forward by the mandate of our sacred tradition: When your kin falls, do not turn away: uphold that person. When you reap your harvest, leave a portion for the stranger, the orphan and the widow. Then the Eternal will bless you. Through its work to foster gainful employment, JIAS brings God’s blessing to all of us.
Refugees
There is another issue that has historically fallen to JIAS: refugee resettlement. Concern for and about refugees has spread from Africa to Italy, from Syria to Jordan, from the Middle East to Greece and Turkey, Hungary and Germany, France and Scandinavia, Netherlands and Britain. It has become one of the major political issues in Europe, the United States and Canada. I hear it from Uber drivers and congregants, from those who see resettlement as a mitzvah and others who are wary of opening our doors.
Those who are anxious often reflect cautionary words that were articulated by the President of the United States: "The refugee has got to be checked because, unfortunately, among the refugees there are some spies, as has been found in other countries." This was said by Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1940, referring to Jewish refugees.
In Canada, there was similar resistance. The research of Irving Abella and Harold Troper in the Canadian National Archives revealed this letter addressed to the Immigration Department in 1939:
Gentleman,
In great need and distress, a refugee family addresses itself to you for help and rescue. Our distress, particularly that of our children, a nine-year-old boy and a seven-year-old girl increases daily and there is nothing left for us but suicide. In our desperation, we appeal to you for a permit to enter your country. Surely there are people left in this world, people who will have pity on us, people who will save us. My wife will refuse no work. We will farm, we will keep house, we will do anything in order to enter your country. Please do not let our cry for help go unheeded. Please save us before it is too late.
Jacob and Cecilia Stein
And to the cream of European Jewish society, the Stein family and many others, the same response was issued from the Department of Immigration:
Dear Sir,
Unfortunately, though we greatly sympathize with your circumstances, at present the Canadian government is not admitting Jews. Please try another country.
Of course, as Professors Abella and Troper note, “there was no other country.”
There is always resistance and concern about refugee resettlement. But let us remember that as Jews, we have often been migrants and refugees. In text and personal trauma we have learned this lesson. Not only in the 36 places in the Torah were we commanded to welcome, to love, to not oppress the stranger in our midst. From our own personal history, we know the heart of the stranger.
Rabbi Emanuel Rackman points out that Judaism teaches an "empathic justice," which “seeks to make people identify themselves with [the] needs [of others], with each other's hopes and aspirations, with each other's defeats and frustrations. Because Jews have known the distress of slaves and the loneliness of strangers, we are to project ourselves into their souls and make their plight our own.”
Following World War II, within months of Germany's surrender in May 1945, the Allies repatriated more than six million wartime refugees, displaced persons. Between 1.5 million and two million DPs refused repatriation. Most Jewish survivors were unable or unwilling to return to eastern Europe because of postwar antisemitism and the destruction of their communities during the Holocaust.
At its peak in 1947, the Jewish displaced person population reached approximately 250,000. They pressed for greater immigration opportunities and the creation of a Jewish homeland in Palestine. My in-laws were smuggled into France. There was "illegal" immigration to British Palestine. France, Britain, Canada, USA and South American countries reluctantly agreed to accept refugees.
Our ancestor Abraham went out of his way to aid migrants. According to a midrash, he set up shelter on the roads so that the poor and the wayfarer would have access to food and drink when in need.
Through the Jewish Coalition for Disaster Relief (JCDR), convened by the Joint Distribution Committee, Jewish organizations have been quietly funding relief efforts for Syrian refugees for the past two years. JCDR is a consortium of nearly 50 Jewish organizations that maximizes the use of pooled resources, provides a co-ordinated response to crises and demonstrates the long tradition of Jewish humanitarianism.
Assistance has been delivered in Jordan, which has seen more than 625,000 officially registered refugees enter the country since the beginning of the fighting in Syria. Recently, the scope and mandate of the Jewish Coalition for Syrian Refugees has been expanded to include refugees and migrants in Europe and the Middle East.
The Talmud has an interesting interpretation of a Torah law about ritual purity. Someone with a scaly skin disease is supposed to announce his presence among other people (Leviticus 13:45). Initially, I thought that this individual uses a clapper or a cry to keep others away because of concern for ritual contamination. But the Talmud has a different idea. When someone arrives and announces pain, our responsibility is to come to his or her aid. "Anyone to whom a painful incident has happened must announce it publicly so that the public will pray for mercy on his behalf.” (BT Sota 32b) There cannot be a pronouncement without a response. It is not the Jewish way.
Currently, the city of Toronto is planning to accept about 40 percent of all Syrian refugees; 900 will be processed by Canadian authorities every day between now and the new year—and the majority of those are expected to settle in the Toronto and Montreal areas. Of course, the government will do proper screening for security and for health concerns. Through JIAS, the Jewish community has 30 groups working with between 10 to 15 families. While this is not a large number, it is proportionate to our population and a major mitzvah that calls to us now.
Uruguayan folk-rock musician Jorge Drexler recently penned lyrics of tribute to Bolivia and its open-door policy, which saved his grandparents, who were Jewish refugees from Nazi Germany.
The doors were closing
time hung by a hair
and that child in the
arms of my grandparents.
The panic was evident
And everything foretold
it ...
As the cold arrived,
in the middle of a
hurtful glacier,
an unbelievable stream
of warm water:
Everyone said no, and
Bolivia said yes.
The pendulum comes and
goes ...
ships come and go
those who today have it
all
tomorrow implore for it
all.
The water wheel does
not delay
in turning destinies
around,
in refreshing memory
...
a revolving door
that's all history is.
The Talmud teaches that each person, each community, has a mitzvah that comes at a particular time/place: Ben Azzai would teach: Every person has a distinctive hour; everything has its distinctive place. (Avot 4.3)
This is our mitzvah. This is our time. This is our place. Let’s do it.
