Several weeks ago I settled into the passenger seat of my friend's car and launched into an impassioned monologue about my current moral dilemma... eventually I heard a sniff from the other side and looking over saw she was crying. She has been widowed for a year and a half and had just made another "mistake." It brought home to her (again) the difficulty of making important and less important decisions all by herself. She still wasn't used to it. She was sad and angry - "why did he have to die?" She talked and I listened, and eventually her son texted to say the mistake could be rectified. She feels that for a few months following the death, folks are very caring towards the widow, but after that decide you're fine and stop calling to "check in." They are on to the next person who needs help. She asked me to communicate that we need to watch out for the orphan and the widow for a long time - whether the need is financial or emotional.
For me, this experience is a "re-do" of my own mother's widowhood. As a teenager, I resented her neediness, anger, and profound sadness, and acted accordingly. Eventually I came to better understand why she was so upset. Simultaneously I came to recognize the courage and resourcefulness she showed when her life changed dramatically. I also came to see that this early unwelcome experience gave me the ability to be with others who for a variety of reasons felt those same, sometimes explosive feelings. I see my mother's face when I look at a face wracked with sadness and fury.
Our Torah portion says:
For the Lord your God is God supreme and Lord Supreme, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God, who shows no favor and takes no bribe. But upholds the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and befriends the stranger, providing him food and clothing. You too must befriend the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. ( Dtn. 10:17 - 19)
In his commentary, Rashi is interested in the order of the verses: the all powerful God addresses God's power vis-à-vis the people who are powerful on earth (but not in heaven) - and then focuses on/sees the needs of people without power. This same great, mighty and awesome God relates to the widow, the orphan and the stranger. Therefore, the rest of us are held responsible to take seriously the basic needs - food and dress - of our fellow. Next to this is a command to befriend the stranger. Rashi says not to reproach your fellow for a fault which is also yours. The translation "befriend" is a good one because it tells us not to disengage from others, because we have no justification to do so. We are all strangers - not just the orphan, the widow, and "the stranger." We are not unlike each other.
The Torah juxtaposes "the widow", "the orphan" and "the stranger" more than once. They each lack a defender or, frequently, a partner. The insistence on seeing all Israel as strangers forces us to empathize with all the other strangers. We must see ourselves as responsible for the welfare of folks from whom we might want to distance ourselves, because we don't want to be touched by their situation.
I would add others to this category of protected people: the divorcee and those adversely affected by the economy. Many of us know stories of women who are "dropped" by their friends within synagogues once they are divorced, because they are afraid these women will harm their marriages. The divorcee is left to fend for herself. She becomes a stranger, despite formerly having been an active member of her community. Individuals and families who are in financial straits are estranged from former friends because they are perceived to be no longer able to be part of the group. This occurs even when they are not asking for money, just friendship. It is forgotten that there are ways to socialize without money.
We were strangers in the land of Egypt and even though we might fear the stranger for the real and imagined problems they bring into our lives - we can befriend each other as God befriends us.
What's more - we can "re-do" our dealings with the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the divorcee, the newly financially devastated. Torah repeats itself on this obligation. We can learn from our mistakes which may be new decisions for us, and befriend the stranger because we can face the fact we can easily become the stranger at any moment. We are the stranger whom God befriends.
We can look into the face of the hurt or the angry, and then listen to, talk with, and help each other. We just might be able to share this short sojourn together as strangers no more.
Shabbat Shalom.