love all as you love yourself

What Judaism meant to me growing up was contained in the Passover Seder. The sentences, read in unison around the table, summed up my understanding of what it meant to be Jewish:

"Today, wherever oppression remains, Jews taste its bitterness. We remember, it is we who were slaves, we who were strangers. And therefore, we remind ourselves, you shall not oppress another, for you know the feelings of the oppressed, having yourselves been slaves in the land of Egypt."

These words meant that I could not view myself as separate and apart from someone or a group of people who were suffering. It meant that I had to stop and help someone in need, just as I would have wanted someone to help my ancestors. It meant that I could never stand idly by. It was the bedrock of my upbringing, from the stories of my dad's experiences as a volunteer in the south in the 1960s doing legal work for voter registration drives, to taking in strays, to my mother's pioneering work in the 1970s and 80s to help low income children be diagnosed and receive assistance for dyslexia, the same way that middle and upper income children were.

At Passover, Jews are reminded of the story of our ancestors' flight to freedom and the hardships they endured. In Christianity, the parable of the Good Samaritan, often re-enacted this time of year, speaks to our prejudices and hard hearts toward suffering. It is good to be reminded of these stories. Face it -- who hasn't sometimes felt "better him than me," or "she got what she deserved," or "not in my backyard." We have all closed or averted our eyes from the unpleasant, thinking that we won't be touched. But the Passover and Good Samaritan stories teach us to love all people, not just those in our small circles or who are like us. We are so blessed; most of us have ample leisure time, relative prosperity, and safety to pursue our lives. Please make the most of this privileged life by feeling gratitude and working to relieve the suffering of others.