On the evening of May 17, a man wanted for armed robbery committed a few months earlier was witnessed fleeing a personal altercation near the Econo Lodge on Route 1, within the Sharon town line. On-duty Sharon police officers were dispatched to aid other town and state police in locating this person, believed to be on foot heading northward, just west of Route 1.
Now it happened that on the evening of May 17, I was just buckling my seat belt in the passenger seat of a Sharon police cruiser when that dispatch call came in. I was doing a “ride along,” part of a nine-week community education program offered by the Sharon Police department. And so, for the next three hours, on the evening of May 17, I was swept up in a search for a human needle in a haystack: a thin man in a gray sweatshirt, on foot, somewhere in the neighborhoods or woods of Walpole. At dusk. Possibly armed, and therefore possibly dangerous.
Was I frightened? I have to say that there were only a few moments when my anxiety rose to the level of fear. In a situation like that, it’s obviously the police who are doing the courageous work. My participation was hardly courageous in the usual sense of the word. At the same time, it was emotionally challenging. Especially when we were traveling at high speeds with blue lights flashing, going through red lights at intersections on Route 1. I had to occasionally say to myself: It’s okay, you’re safe, you’re in the police car. I did a lot of mindful deep breathing.
I am of course aware of my incredible privilege and good fortune, that a wild ride in the front seat of a police cruiser in the suburbs is the scariest situation I’ve faced in a long time. Many, many people in this country are experiencing real fear right now, with good reason. Hard-working immigrants are afraid of deportation and separation from family members. Young people who came here as children with their immigrant parents are afraid of being sent “back” to countries that they do not consider home. Black parents are afraid that their sons and daughters will be lost in the hell cycle of drugs, violence and incarceration. People everywhere are afraid of losing health care, housing, jobs.
And whether or not we here today are directly impacted by these particular fears, we are all experiencing fear in the face of changes happening in this country. We are afraid of what we see happening. We are afraid that the values we hold most dear, as Americans and as Jews, are being threatened and undermined.
For me, and I imagine for many of you as well, the challenge now is how to take action to defend those values, even when it feels scary to do so. In the activist work I have begun this past year, I’m finding that fear keeps coming up. How do we keep moving forward in the face of fear? How can we respond to our fear with courage? And what exactly is courage anyway?
Not that I am holding myself up as a model of bravery. Quite the contrary, what I hope to convince you is that if even a quiet person like me can take action in an increasingly frightening world, then so can anyone! And even more, that there can be an unexpected sweetness and satisfaction in every small step taken with courage.
Seeking Torah insights on the subject of fear and courage, I was drawn to the biblical story of our patriarch Jacob, and how he mustered the courage to face his brother Esau after many decades of estrangement. This is not the Jacob and Esau story that many people know, the one about how when they were young, Jacob tricked his brother Esau out of his birthright and their father’s blessing and then fled, at his mother’s urging, to avoid Esau’s murderous rage. That was how the young Jacob dealt with fear.
The story I want to share happens much later in the biblical narrative. Jacob has been away from his parents’ home now for many years, and has acquired a large family, many flocks and herds,
and some wisdom and humility. He sends a simple greeting to his brother Esau via messengers, informing Esau of his prosperity and hoping for a favorable reply.
The messengers return to Jacob, saying, “We came to your brother Esau; he himself is coming to meet you, and there are four hundred men with him.”
And then the Torah tells us: “Jacob was very afraid.”
Now what? Try to run away like he did many years ago? Or maybe arm himself for combat? He’s not young anymore.
It’s a long and wonderful story, and I’m not going to get into the details now. (It’s all in the Torah, you can check it out.) But what I want to highlight is that Jacob prepares for his encounter with Esau. He actually prepares in four distinct ways:
First, he makes a move to protect his clan: dividing them in half so that if there is a hostile attack, at least half will survive.
Second, he prays: reminding God that they have a connection and an agreement, and requesting protection.
Third, he goes into solitude: crossing over the river to spend the night alone, he has a mysterious, transformative wrestling encounter and arises the next morning with a new identity.
And finally, he makes some strategic moves: sending several waves of messengers bearing gifts ahead of him and his family.
Only after these four levels of preparation does Jacob move forward to encounter his brother Esau face to face.
Self-protection, prayer, spiritual work, and strategy. Even more than the particular tactics, for me the point is that Jacob goes through a process. He doesn’t duck into a phone booth and emerge in a superhero costume with superhuman powers. And neither does anyone who responds to fear with courageous action.
Was there a point along the process when Jacob ceased being afraid? I imagine not. Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is moving forward in spite of fear.
My being in a police cruiser during a man-hunt was an accidental situation – obviously, I did not intend to be there participating. I’d like to tell you now about my somewhat more intentional effort to be courageous in the face of fear. (I’m sure you each could add a story of your own, and I hope that you will share those stories with one another.)
This past year, as some of you know, I co-founded Sharon Interfaith Action. My intention in creating this community organizing group is to collaborate with activists in the city of Brockton to address long-standing racial and economic injustices. My idea grew out of the reflections and conversations I have been having over the past few years about race, and out of the question I am always lifting up: “What can one person do?” Although the timing of it happened to be when many people were suddenly feeling the need to get active after the presidential election, for me it has been the culmination of several years of reflection.
At the conclusion of Sharon Interfaith Action’s summer training sessions, I invited the participants to write one word on a card which expressed the quality or strength that they aspire to bring to our work together. On my card, I wrote Courage. My intention is to bring courage to my activism work – not because I feel myself to be a courageous person, but precisely because I keep experiencing fear that arises in facing the unknown.
The story of Jacob and Esau reminds us that courageously facing our fears includes practical strategies, centering practices such as prayer and meditation, and having a positive vision of the future. I’m also finding that the expression “baby steps” keeps coming to mind. We don’t need to be superheroes to face our fear, we just need to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And the expression “baby steps” is useful because it also implies that sometimes we fall down, and that’s okay.
The actions I have taken in my activist work so far are baby steps. I’m actually a little embarrassed even mentioning them, because I have done so little. But they do involve facing fear with courage, beginning at the most basic level of, for example, facing my fear of driving and parking and walking in the city of Brockton.
And I want you to know that the joy I have experienced in connecting with people there has been an unanticipated gift. There is a sweetness and satisfaction that comes from every effort to connect with people; all the sweeter when the connection is reached through facing our fears. Our work is only just beginning, but for me there is already a sense of blessing.
You may be wondering how the police man-hunt ended. During my three hours of participating, as you may imagine, my thoughts bounced between wanting to find the suspect and really not wanting to find the suspect.
In the end, the suspect was not found that night, nor the next day. For the police on shift, it was just another work day. For me, it was a humbling glimpse into a world I am grateful I know little about.
We don’t need to be superheroes to face our fear, we just need to keep taking baby steps, putting one foot in front of the other. Just as Jacob did in preparing for his encounter with Esau, we can create our own process of self-protection, prayer, spiritual work, and strategy. That’s courage.
I want to bless each of you with the courage to lean into your fears this year. And may you be blessed also with the sweet satisfaction that comes from connecting with kindred spirits along the way. May we all be blessed to discover our own unique process of baby steps that will move us towards a safer, more just and loving world.