A mother goes to wake her son for Hebrew school one Sunday morning. When she knocked on his door, he said, “I’m not going!” “Why not?” asked his mother. “I’ll give you two good reasons,” he said. “They don’t like me, I don’t like them and I never get anything out of it. His mother replied, YOU ARE GOING. First, they’re expecting you. Second, you’re 47 years old. and third, you’re the rabbi!”
I grew up in suburban New Jersey in the 1970s. I had a very strong Jewish education for those days. I always felt kind of maladjusted in the environment I grew up in. I had a very strong sense of not wanting to be part of the corporate, workaday world, but I was only vaguely aware that there were alternatives. As a teenager I was very attracted to the politics and culture of the 60s. I was vaguely aware of the prophetic tradition in Judaism and as a teenager I learned about the socialist tradition of the Jewish immigration period.I was politically active fairly young. I worked for the Bill Bradley for Senate campaign as a sophomore in high school. The first demonstration I ever went to was the day draft registration started, in 1978. I was involved in anti-war and anti-nuclear power campaigns. I attended some very famous rallies, like the 20th anniversary of the March on Washington and the big nuclear freeze rally in New York in 1982, which Bruce Springsteen played at.
After scraping through college I moved to New York and basically worked day jobs and hung out with rock bands. At the end of my 20s I had a religious experience and started on the path I’m on now. I lived in Israel for four years in the 90s where I taught English, I met my wife there and then we moved back and I started seminary.
As I finished seminary I went for a job interview for a congregation outside of Chicago and they noticed that my resume started in my 30s. If I was a second career rabbi, they demanded to know, what was my first career? I tried to be coy about it but they weren’t having it. On the day they were voting on me, I got a call telling me that I had to come up with a better explanation of what I had done in my 20s, which I gave them, but I should have known at that point what was gonna happen. The city was similar to where I had grown up and I thought, great, I’ll be the rabbi that I didn’t have growing up, but of course that’s not what the leadership wanted. When they didn’t renew me, it was during the recession and I couldn’t get another pulpit job and we couldn’t sell the house. After going on a pulpit visit weekend where the synagogue president’s son and one of his cronies, I kid you not, poured salad dressing on my guitar, I was hired by Jill Docking to become the director of the Jewish Federation in Wichita which is how I came to Kansas in 2007.
If you had asked me when I was a child in New Jersey what would be the last place I would ever live, Wichita KS would have been right at the top of the list. But I had decided I wanted to move into organizational work and that was an opportunity for me to learn what a budget is and how to relate to board members and all the rest. I thought three years of that and the big R in front of my name would put me in a good position to move back east for a national job and while I applied for several jobs, but I did not get them and when I came to the end of my three-year contracts I wasn’t renewed. I thought about moving back east to try to be a freelance rabbi but Suzy didn’t want to move without a job so we moved to Kansas City, which is where she’s from.
Meanwhile, in 2008, the Kansas Interfaith Power & Light chapter had been formed, by Eileen Horn, Jerry Rees, and David Owens of blessed memory. That’s where the 15 years comes from. Eileen was the coordinator of IPL which at that point was a program of Climate and Energy Project. She had been to the national IPL conference and my colleague Fred Dobb told her, oh, if you’re doing interfaith climate work in Kansas you should talk to Moti, so she called me and I went on the steering committee.
After I moved to KC, in 2011 the coordinator role for IPL came open. They knew me of course so they hired me to be the coordinator half-time. The first thing I did that got any attention was testifying at the hearing about the Keystone Pipeline at the Expo Center in Topeka in the fall of 2011. Gov Brownback and then-Senator Knox and a couple other people who were pro-Keystone testified and then I was the first opponent. John Hannah covered it and because it was the first in a series of these hearings around the country, it got national play and all my friends were very impressed. Here’s a pro tip: if John Hannah writes about you, there’s a good chance that it'll go viral, because AP is carried everywhere.
Eileen’s focus had been on doing energy efficiency updates in churches mostly but I'm more political, you may have noticed. In 2012 I took a few members of the board to the statehouse to meet some people and look around. We had a very back-of-the-envelope legislative priorities document which amounted to “do something about climate change.” After we were done we went to the Senate chamber. We just happened to be sitting there when Forrest Knox got up to the well and proposed an amendment to repeal the renewable portfolio standard that Governor Parkinson had put in as part of the sunflower coal plant compromise in 2009. We were like What the hell?! They ended up sending it back to committee but we knew after the election that year, they were gonna go after it hammer and tongs so that’s when we developed Kansans for Clean Energy and started a working relationship with Dorothy at CEP and Zack at Sierra Club which continues to this day.
In the meantime I was traveling around the state doing the same thing I do now, talking to churches and trying to get people to care about climate change. That's when I met Annie Ricker, which is a story for another time.
In 2015 the RPS issue was over and it was clear that there wasn’t going to be any legislation having to do with energy policy or climate, as in fact there hasn’t really been to this day. It was clear that without an organization to develop a faith-based voice on policy that space was going to continue to be dominated by the Hard Right. We also noted the tendency in progressive advocacy groups to silo into single issue groups, which limits the ability to draw attention to the interconnections between justice issues – such as the racial and economic implications of climate disruption. So in September we had a board retreat at the UU church in Lawrence, and what came out of that was KIFA.
We announced it at the beginning of 2016. One of the first things I testified on was a bill to ban this resettlement of Syrian refugees, which Micah was also involved with – that was an Islamaphobia fest - and another one was the second hope act bill. The Hope Act one was significant because I went to testify with my nice “care for the poor” Bible quotes and one of the legislators, who was a rightist Christian, quoted Thessalonians to the effect of if you don't work you don't eat. I didn’t really know what to do with that - later I found out it was a serious misinterpretation – but in the aftermath I decided rather that Biblical quotes, I would bring statements from the national denominational advocacy and say these are the people who are paid to put frame scripture in terms of policy. That's basically the approach I've taken since then.
And the rest, as they say, is history. Two significant steps were getting a $25,000 capacity building grant from Health Foundation in 2018, which allowed me to go full time and remains the only grant we’ve ever gotten from them, and then also in 2019 we established the relationship with both the ELCA’s Central States Synod and with national ELCA Advocacy, and for that I want to shout out to Bishop Candea, who managed that relationship for the Synod, and John Johnson, who facilitated it at the churchwide level. From that we developed relationships with the local UCC Conference, the Episcopal Diocese, and with the Mercy & Justice Team of the local United Methodist conference. I find I’m asked much less about my bona fides now.
And basically our approach has been to try to do the next right thing. I think this is good spiritual advice, as well as good political advice. We’ve tried to be useful, to put our efforts where they seem likely to do the most good. The fact that we’re funded mostly by individuals and denominational partners and not by a bunch of grants looking for deliverables means we’re able to be nimble when something comes up that we feel requires our attention, such as the CRT issue last year.
We have also been blessed in our leadership. John Martin was board chair for the last few years of IPL, and since that meeting in Lawrence we’ve had Sarah Oglesby-Dunegan who led KIFA for the first 3 years, and Rachael Pryor, who’s been the board chair for the past 3 years and has been an amazing partner. Annie Ricker has big Birkenstocks to fill.
And now I want to spend a few minutes speaking about our current moment – no wait, Robert, I’m just going to take a couple more minutes and then I’m going to sit down.
The most Jewish thing about me is my steadfast belief that the world can be a better place and we can help make it so. Traditional Judaism has a strong belief in the coming of the messiah.
Ani ma'amin, Be'emuna shelemah Beviat hamashiach Ve'af al pi sheyitmahmehya Im kol zeh, achakeh loh - I believe with perfect faith in the coming of the messiah, and though he may tarry, still I will wait for him.
Which more liberal traditions, including mine, think of as a messianic age. This is the source of the social justice tradition in modern Judaism, even if people don’t realize that they’re living one of Maimonides’ articles of faith. If we link this with the related concept that we are the hands of God, what we come our with is – We believe that the world can be a better place, and that we can help make it so. This is only one of a number of seemingly quaint and outdated concepts that I try to hold onto.
I don't know how much of this is because I'm getting older–looking back to the good old days seems to be human nature–but it seems clear to me that things are getting significantly worse. People with social justice sensibilities know that the world is a heavy burden to bear, and it’s heavier now than I can remember it.
When I was a senior in high school, Ronald Reagan was elected and John Lennon – he of “all you need is love” – was killed, and you couldn’t have had a stronger message that the halcyon days were over, hippie. A year after Lennon’s death, I went to a handgun control rally in Washington, where I was at school. We formed a big peace sign which could be seen from the air. Those were the days of Jim Brady, when we thought something could be done about gun violence – handgun violence. To me the difference between then and now is most obvious when we look at where the gun issue has gone. That’s not the only issue, but that’s the one that shows it in the starkest relief. The fact that any of us, or our children, can basically be shot anywhere and nothing will be done about it, is morally reprehensible as well as psychologically and spiritually devastating.
We are in a period when a minority of Americans, supported by the lavish funding from the 1%, and myriad sources of misinformation and hatred, have captured the mechanisms of power, including the courts. They are perfectly willing to use their position to bolster their power, and if we take them at their word, to destroy those who oppose them, whether legally or with stochastic violence. The extra-legal mechanisms that have been used historically, such as direct action and civil disobedience, are being crushed legally. And a significant part of the political system vilifies the term “woke,” which means antiracist. I look with particular horror at both what’s happening in Florida, and what’s happening with Cop City in Atlanta, where yesterday they’ve been very cavalier about using the word “terrorism” and where just yesterday they arrested people working on bail funds. The combination of red scare politics and government suppression of the left is tried and true in American politics, and it has been generally been very successful, which is why we have to keep inventing the wheel every 20 or 30 years.
Another value that gets short shrift these days is the concept of the public good. One of the reasons KIFA has been talking about public education is because it’s one of the few things that society contributes to as a whole for the broad benefit of all. Which is precisely why it’s under attack. But we dare not give up these important concepts, these important values. Such as the public good. Or our commitment to democracy. Or human liberation. Or caring for those less fortunate. Or peace.
The reason KIFA works in and through communities of faith or people of faith is because if there's any institution that even purports to care about the idea of the common good, it’s faith communities. Even if organized religion is in a period of decline – in large part because of the cruelty emanating from white supremacist-tainted religious beliefs and the inability of more moderate religious institutions to effectively stand up to it – I also believe strongly that spirituality, spiritual needs, are an intrinsic part of the human condition, and that if they’re not met with loving, life-affirming forms of religion then they will be met with fear-based ones. We meet many people who grew up in a church, and they didn't leave because they stopped believing in those values, they left because those institutions didn’t live up to those values. I could name a dozen people in this room that this applies to. They are a vital part of KIFA’s base.
I spend a great deal of my time trying to convince clergy and faith communities to be slightly more prophetic. Given the rise of white Christian nationalism I think it is vital for Christians in particular to stand up and push back. I believe that presenting a faith option that is anti-racist, open and affirming, and fully creation conscious is not only good religion, it’s good marketing. There are plenty of congregations that are fully living their mission to be on the other side of those issues – why are we so circumspect about fully living into our values, and our mission?
But when things seem to be dark or getting darker, we have God. We have each other. We are not alone. Our efforts mean something in the world, in creation - to God. We bring our burdens to God, and we take our strength from God. That’s what God is for!
And when we have that, how can we despair. I think about the 19th century, when robber barons ran the economy, Jim Crow was ascendant in north and south, and state violence was used to crush incipient labor and other social justice movements. Yet only 30 or 40 years later we had the New Deal and the heyday of industrial unionism. The long arc can move quickly, when it moves.
Our goal in any situation is to do the next right thing.
The two elections last year – the amendment election in August and the governor’s race in November - showed us that there is still a preference for moderation in Kansas. We have two things going for us right now, and they’re not insignificant: the first is Laura Kelly being in a position to protect us - to a limited but real degree – from the excesses of hard right leadership of the legislature, and the second is that relative to where we were even 5 years ago, the public policy infrastructure in Kansas is well led and relatively well resourced – I mean ACLU, Loud Light, Appleseed, KAC, Voter network, KIFA. This gives us four years – three now: the senate elections next year and the House and governor elections in 2026. If we are not able to use these relative advantages to change the political trajectory of the state then in 2027 we’ll have Gov. Kobach or Gov. Masterson and Kansas will be Confedistan just like all the rest of the red states. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll do the next right thing.
There are 3 aspects of the work we do that we must keep in mind. First is the actual political change piece: how do we make the work we do count in terms of material benefit for people in need? The second is our own self-care, that is, building for the long haul – how do we maintain our equilibrium enough to be able to continue to do this very difficult work? And third is building those social bonds, those bonds of mutual care and concern. How do we build resilience in the face of climate disruption? How do we build solidarity in the face of the genocidal suppression of trans identity? How do we defend ourselves and each other from armed MAGAs full of white resentment and self-righteousness? Grappling with these questions must be at the heart of our work moving forward.
But we have to be clear about what we believe. We believe that everyone is created in the image of God, and that everyone has the right to equal treatment under the law. We believe and work toward a multiracial, multicultural democracy where everyone has what they need to survive and thrive. We do this work not because we think it will be easy - we know it won’t be - or even that we’ll live to see the results. We do this work because we still believe that the moral arc of the universe bends toward justice, and that, God help us, All we need is love. This is not optimism and it's not hope - it's faith. The belief in things not seen. We do this work because we believe that the world can be a better place and we can make it so. We ask God to help us in this work, and we find God in the work, and in each other.
As for me I have to say that as challenging as my journey has sometimes been, I'm in a good place right now. People often ask me, and I’m sure they ask my colleagues as well – how I am able to do this work. Well, I have something that I'm good at, that people seem to want to support, I work with wonderful people both within KIFA and in our allied organizations, and I have a good marriage. I consider myself blessed.
The one thing we can’t do, is give up. This is always an option for white people with some means. But we can see who it leaves behind. Noam Chomsky says something really powerful in this regard: “We have two choices. We can be pessimistic, give up, and help ensure that the worst will happen. Or we can be optimistic, grasp the opportunities that surely exist, and maybe help make the world a better place. Not much of a choice.”
Or to revise our text: “I believe in perfect faith in the coming of a better world, and though it may tarry, we will do what I can to bring it into being.” And as the man said, and I still believe it - “Love is all you need.”
