Humble Conviction

I was fifteen years old and in a fight with my father.

It was 1992, and a massive rally for reproductive rights was to take place in Washington, D.C. I wanted to go; my father said no. My initial reaction to this parental veto was typically adolescent: I yelled something along the lines of “you’re not the boss of me!” and slammed the door as I stormed out of the room. But at some point I calmed down and returned to my father with a somewhat atypical adolescent response: curiosity. 

Why didn’t he want me to go to Washington?

I don’t recall his exact words, but my main takeaway was that while he believed abortion should be legal, he saw it as a complicated issue whose nuances would not be addressed in the context of a rally. The rally, he felt, would perpetuate the “us v them” mentality, and the destructive self-righteousness of the “pro-life vs. pro-choice” framework that left little  room for discussion. And it’s true: You don’t see too much nuance on the signs people carry when they are marching down Pennsylvania Avenue.

The memory of this conversation arose in my mind this week because this Shabbat has been deemed “Repro Shabbat” by the National Council of Jewish Women, and Jewish institutions across the country–including BJ–have signed on to demonstrate our support of reproductive rights. There is a lot at stake right now, perhaps even more than in 1992, as increasingly restrictive abortion laws in numerous states have put women’s lives at risk and punished doctors who seek only to provide the best care for their patients.

We have the responsibility to advocate for our convictions, for what we believe is right—this is something our faith demands of us. But in our terribly polarized society, where the chances of having a nuanced conversation about abortion are much less than they were in 1992 (probably next to nothing at this point), the way we express our convictions is just as important as speaking out. As a religious community, we also have a responsibility to address the spiritual crisis that continues to underlie our country’s political crisis: a crisis of arrogance, fear, and a loss of faith in other people, that leads to demonizing rather than humanizing those who hold opposing views. 

This moment is asking us for humble conviction. I have clarity about my own commitments to reproductive rights and abortion access. I proudly campaigned for Prop 1 in the November election, which has enshrined abortion and reproductive health care rights in the New York State Constitution. I’m not backing down from these convictions. At the same time, I am trying to live with humility, with the understanding that I do not have a monopoly on the truth, that I can learn something from reading one of Ross Douthat’s opinion pieces on this topic.

Humble conviction may sound like an oxymoron. But it is actually a core tenet of our Jewish lives, expressed perhaps most perfectly by the prophet Micah: Do justice, love goodness, and walk humbly with your God.

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Shuli Passow