Arthur Waskow Interview with Moment’s Wisdom Project
by Noach Phillips
For the Wisdom Project of Moment magazine
https://momentmag.com/wisdom-project-arthur-ocean-waskow/
The Wisdom Project at Moment: Inspirational conversations with wise people who have been fortunate enough to live long lives.
<The Interviewer’s Note that immediately follows describes my “external” life before the interview itself, which explores what Interior wisdom I might have gained on the gnarled path toward entering my ninetieth year. — AW
Rabbi Arthur Ocean Waskow, 89, is a public scholar and political activist. Born in Baltimore in 1933, he received his undergraduate degree from Johns Hopkins University and his M.A. and Ph.D. in U.S. history from the University of Wisconsin, where he studied the 1919 race riots. In 1958, Waskow worked as a legislative assistant to Congressman Robert Kastenmeier with Marcus Raskin and later helped Raskin found the Institute for Policy Studies, a lefty think tank, in 1963. From 1963 to 1977, Waskow wrote numerous books and articles on military strategy, race relations, conflict resolution, and political change. He was also involved in the civil rights and antiwar movements, speaking out against the Vietnam War and participating in the Democratic National Convention in 1968 as a delegate and a speaker at the protests.
His entry into “serious Judaism” was catalyzed by the assassination of Martin Luther King and the resulting unrest, which inspired him to write The Freedom Seder, which put the Exodus story in the counter-cultural and anti-racist context of the 1960s. Over time his involvement with the Jewish Renewal movement eventually led him to found the Shalom Center in Philadelphia. He married Rabbi Phyllis Berman in 1986, and the couple jointly adopted the middle name “Ocean.” In 1993, he co-found ALEPH: The Alliance for Jewish Renewal with Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi and others. Waskow himself was ordained in 1995. He has written about twenty-eight books, many with his wife.
His most recent book is Dancing In God’s Earthquake: The Coming Transformation of Religion (Orbis Books, 2020).>
What is some of the wisdom you’ve acquired in your lifetime?
Oy. Well, it took me a long time, but I learned how to love people. My friend Marcus Raskin, maybe a year or two before he died, said to me, surprised, “A soft Arthur Waskow?” I realized I had been not-soft, not-loving. I’d been sharp and smart, maybe even partly wise, but not loving. I learned it from my brother, who died 11 years ago, and from my wife, Phyllis Berman. It took a long time. It shouldn’t take so long for people. I think the only way to learn it is to be loved and fully receive it—and then the third stage is being able to be loving.
What do you think of the world today?
I think we’re at the cusp of disaster or transformation, and I don’t know which we’re going to choose. Over and over again, it feels to me like the only model I really know is the Israelite runaway slaves at the edge of the Red Sea with Pharaoh’s army behind them. They don’t know the sea going to split. In fact, they don’t believe it’s going to. Why would it split? No sea ever split.
They’re poised between surrendering to Pharaoh’s army, going back and be slaves again and getting garlic and onions (which they’re really hungry for) and going into the unknown. And the unknown’s crazy. Why would you go into the unknown?
According to tradition, there’s one guy who decides to take a chance, and he’s up to his nose in the water and on the edge of drowning when the water splits. And the tradition says there were still people who didn’t want to go. I think the whole human race is right there.
Is there anything in your life so far that you would’ve done differently?
There’s one relationship in my life that I think I wasn’t ready for. And I think the other person in that relationship wasn’t ready for it, either. I wish we had both been more mature, more ready, more understanding. I don’t think the society around us wanted people to enter those kinds of relationships with deeper questions, and I don’t think we knew how to ask them. But I’m not saying it was a mistake, or that we should have done something different. I learned a lot.
What advice about living a life generally would you pass along, especially to young people?
I mean, at least in some circles, it’s pretty cliche. Follow your passion. Follow what really speaks to you deeply. When I started graduate school at the University of Wisconsin, I expected I was going to be a history professor at some good liberal arts college like Oberlin or Swarthmore. It never occurred to me that I would find myself a legislative assistant to an unconventional member of Congress, that I would learn about American society much more deeply doing that than as an historian.
I entered the Congress business mostly by accident, because I got turned down for a fellowship that I applied for, and a congressman for whom I had written speeches when he was only a candidate said, “Hey, why don’t you come work one-fourth time for me? I’ll pay you what the fellowship would’ve been, and you’ll still have a lot of time to finish your dissertation,” which is what I wanted to go to Washington to do. So it was an entry by accident, but I loved it. I’ve learned from it. It became a passion.
And then, the fact that Passover came a week after Martin Luther King was murdered changed my life. The only piece of Jewish practice that I had taken seriously as a grown-up was the seder, the Passover seder. And I found myself walking past the occupation army sent by Lyndon Johnson to occupy the capital city of the USA — Washington, DC — after the uprising by the Black community after King was killed. Johnson imposed a curfew that theoretically applied to everybody, but the cops ignored white people on the streets while arresting thousands of Black folk, charged only with being on the streets.
So white activists — me included — spent a week of getting food, and medical supplies, and lawyers, and doctors into the Black community. Then came first night of Passover, I was walking home to get ready for the seder and found myself facing a Jeep with a machine gun pointing at the block I lived on in Adams Morgan. And from my kishkes I began to say, “Hey, this is Pharaoh’s army. This is Pharaoh’s army right here.” And that compelled me to write what became The Freedom Seder, that changed my life again. I didn’t abandon my political activism, but it deepened and changed a lot.
So both times I simply followed what began with an accident, and I didn’t shrug and say, “Well, that’s not what I was about.” When the passion happens, follow it. I wasn’t prepared for the passion. I think the one thing I chose was to say yes when the passion exploded.
What experiences should young people really not miss out on in life?
When something happens within you, deep within you, don’t turn your back on it. Open up to it. And it may happen unexpectedly and unplanned. There’s an old Yiddish proverb. It says, “Der Mensch Tracht, Un Gott Lacht,” which I translate as “Human beings scheme, and God scoffs.”
Mostly that proverb is taught as, “Your plans get ruined.” But if you want to call it God, or you want to call it the universe, or you want to call it your own passion, it can very well not just squash your previous plan but open up a whole new one.
What have you changed your mind about over the years, if anything?
Well, I changed my mind about whether Judaism was of deep value to the universe and to me. I changed my mind in a big way on that.
How would you like to inspire others in this life?
I’ve become convinced that the Hebrew letters Yud Hey Vov Hey (YHWH) that is translated by almost everybody nowadays as “LORD,” is instead the Breath of Life. Try pronouncing “YHWH” with no vowels. It’s just a breath. Breathing is the only ONE, the only “ECHAD,” we have. The word “lord” is not in every human language, nor is “king.” But “breathing” is, and it’s also from trees and frogs and squirrels and fish and humans. And it’s all interchanged—we now know that plants and animals interchange breath, and that’s what keeps the world alive. I wish people would find an ecological rather than a hierarchical model for divinity and sacredness.
My most inspiring teaching, my most inspiring Torah about this was taught by my eight-year-old grandchild, 12 or 13 years ago. When I asked them “What do you think about this thing in the Torah that says, ‘God made human beings in God’s image’? What do you think it means, anyway?” They said, “What’s an image?” So I said, “Well, like a photograph.” And they said, “Like a photograph? That’s really strange. God’s invisible. How could there be a photograph of God?” I didn’t say a word.
And they sat there thinking, thinking, and said, “Well, it could be the other way around. I mean, God could be in the image of human beings.” And I didn’t say a word. And they sat there thinking and said, “But we’re all different from each other, and it couldn’t be that one of us got picked to become the image of God.”
And I didn’t say a word, and they sat there thinking some more. And then their face lit up, just totally lit up, and they said, “Maybe we’re different from each other the way the pieces in my jigsaw puzzle are different from each other. You have to fit us together. And if you fit us together—” I can’t even tell the story without crying—”If you fit us together, we make a community. And a community is more like God.”?
It sounds like you learned the lesson of how to love pretty well.
I hope. I hope.
P.S. by Arthur: I offered an analogy of the present quandary of the human species — with the amazing story of the Israelite dilemma, caught between the Army and the Sea.
For that analogy, I don’t pretend to know how the “Sea split.” An upheaval by the Breath of Life into a Wind of Transformation, a Beneficial Hurricane, that is always a possibility but extremely unusual? Or was the split sea somehow brought about, as were all the previous liberatory Plagues, by Pharaoh’s own behavior? Or was it a myth pointing to the deepest Truth — that the universe (almost) always offers an unexpected opening to humans and other life-forms who act with courage for Life and for Love?
What I do know now is that we humans will make the choice. We will need to join the personal lovingness it took me so long to learn into societies built on love for the jigsaw puzzle of all cultures and all life. We can choose to “split the Sea” so that it does not drown our cities and our farms. We can choose instead to drown with our numbers, committed to nonviolent loving empowerment, the stolen power of the pharaohs who threaten us all.
We can walk the paths of Prophetic Action in all the diverse forms of commitment: We can speak Truth to the powerful. More important, we can speak Truth to the disempowered. And — even within the old shell of violence and domination — we can keep creating the new society of love. Neighborhood solar co-ops. Restorative community-supported agriculture, on farms in cities and countryside, connected to grocery-co-ops. Federally supported free universal medical care, dispensed through neighborhood community clinics. And many many more.
— Arthur