
Our Work in the Next Four Years
Next Monday, January 20, as we honor the life and legacy of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Donald Trump will be inaugurated for his second term as president. The impact of both men on our nation is profound, yet their differences in personality, character, values, and vision could not be more striking.
Dr. King embodied humility and dignity, inspiring others through empathy, eloquence, and compassion. A deeply spiritual man, his belief in the inherent dignity of every human being was rooted in his Christian faith, which also shaped his unwavering commitment to justice, equality, love, and nonviolence. With steadfast integrity, he demonstrated moral clarity and courage, even in the face of violent opposition. His ability to inspire, heal, and uplift others was a cornerstone of his character, and he gifted our nation and the world with a powerful sense of hope and optimism.
In stark contrast, Donald Trump is a brash, vulgar, and petty man, focused on self-promotion, self-aggrandizement, and the pursuit of personal glory. His relationship with the truth has been tenuous at best, and his disregard for ethical norms has been a defining feature of his life. His leadership has been marked by authoritarianism, the undermining of institutions, the erosion of democracy, and the use of power to stoke deep-rooted fears and insecurities and exploit divisions in American society—rather than by moral authority and empathy.
Yet this strange convergence on January 20 goes far beyond the contrast between these two individuals. That these two polar opposites have such a firm grip on our country, our politics, and our culture speaks to a deeper crisis at the core of our national identity—a profound moral and spiritual confusion in the soul of America. Who are we, truly? As individuals, we all feel the pull between individualism, selfishness, and greed on one side, and community, generosity, compassion, and moderation on the other. Power, hatred, and violence on one side; vulnerability, humility, justice, love, and peace on the other. What is true for us as individuals is also true for us as a nation.
It is crucial that we recognize and acknowledge that we carry within us both King and Trump. While we admire Dr. King, many of us feel repulsion at the individual who will be sworn in as president on Monday for the second time. We vigorously disavow and reject Donald Trump, but it would serve us well to recall an important teaching of the Baal Shem Tov: “When you see ill in another person, it is your own ill that you are seeing.” In other words, the world is a mirror—the faults we see in others are often reflections of our own.
Unless we are willing to look in the mirror and recognize our own shadows, we will not be able to move away from Trump toward King. Trump’s appeal to large segments of society is not just a reflection of his individual traits, but of deeper cultural and political forces at play. His leadership speaks of the fears and appetites of a nation struggling with its identity—where power, individualism, and division often take precedence over empathy, solidarity and justice. Yet, in confronting his rise, we are forced to reckon with the shadows within ourselves—the shadows of fear, insecurity, and the tendency to put self-interest over the common good.
Many of us anticipate the next four years with profound apprehension, knowing that we will be called to step up and exercise moral courage. But the work required of us is ultimately much deeper. If we wish to defend truth, freedom, democracy, and justice, and experience healing and reconciliation as a nation, we must confront the inner contradictions within ourselves and, in turn, within our collective national soul.
This weekend’s juxtaposition of Dr. King’s legacy and the inauguration of Donald Trump’s second presidency challenges us to confront fundamental questions about who we are and who we wish to become. The tension between these two forces—one pulling toward our highest ideals, the other toward our basest instincts—may well define our future as a country.
May we find the courage to face our national shadows while holding fast to the dream.
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Roly Matalon