We live in seemingly dark times, which is why more than ever, we need to bring light into our world.

It is easy to be afraid of the dark, to fear things that go bump in the night, because we can't see our surroundings. Instead, our imagination takes over so that everything around us is transformed into "danger." Fear is a natural response to danger, and we have a primal urge to protect our ourselves and our families from the dangers we can see, and from those hidden by the dark.
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Terrorism spreads darkness in our world.

​Terror attacks do more than kill people. The despicable horror of the acts themselves, in combination with the stealth that sometimes makes them difficult to anticipate (and therefore prevent), gets inside of our heads and feeds the darkest part of our imaginations. When we begin to act out of fear rather than out of principle, we begin to forget who we are. 

We begin to accept the darkness.

Fear leads to hatred. Hatred leads to violence. Violence leads to fear.

It takes courage to break this cycle, courage and faith. We must be brave enough to take risks in the face of our fear, and have faith that we can ultimately prevail.

​Since the attacks in Paris last week, a new wave of fear is sweeping through the West. Here in the United States, this has been expressed as a backlash against accepting Syrian refugees. Why? Because we are afraid that cells of sleeper terrorists might be embedded among them.

We are beginning to accept the dark. 

More than thirty sitting governors said that no Syrian refugees will be welcome in their states. The House of Representatives passed a bill on Wednesday to freeze any further Syrian refugees from being granted asylum until some time in the future when the refugee resettlement program can be reevaluated (whatever that means). In my own neighborhood, in Western New York, where for years we have helped refugee populations from all over the world, some of our political leaders now want to close the gates and the county legislature is even considering a public referendum on whether or not to admit any refugees fleeing from Syria. 

​They are beginning to accept the dark.

We Jews know what happens when refugees are turned away. We know what it is like to be a stranger in a strange land. Our Jewish values teach us to welcome the stranger, and to care for the most vulnerable in society. This principle is so important that it is repeated no fewer than thirty-three times in the Torah. It is at the heart of who we are:
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We are commanded to bring light into the darkness.

Closing our borders to refugees plays right into the hands of the terrorists. It is exactly the kind of response they are hoping for, because it creates a sense of alienation and resentment among those who are desperate for relief. By closing our borders, we not only reject our own values and principles, but we turn the very people who need us against us. We are helping the terrorists to create a new fertile recruiting ground for future rounds of violence. ​

All of the evidence suggests that there is no real danger to the United States from refugees, because each candidate for asylum is rigorously vetted  through a two to three year process. According to Nicholas Kristof of the New York Times ("They Are Us," Nov. 19, 2015) of the 785,000 refugees admitted the States since 9/11 only three have been arrested on charges related to terrorism (and apparently they were out of the country). Kristof goes on to note that embedding a terrorist in the refugee population is far more difficult and time consuming than just sending them over on student visas, or as tourists from Europe (where they may already have citizenship). He asked pointedly if we should close our borders to foreign students and tourists? 

As Jews we are commanded to bring light into the darkness. As Americans, immigration is central to our history and to the ethos of our great nation. Providing safety to those who flee oppression is a cornerstone of who we aspire to be. 

Let us fight terror not with fear but with strength and with faith. Let us fight terror not only with weapons of war, but with ideas and values. Let us remember who we are and live by the principles that make us great. Let us demonstrate to those who have suffered horribly and have fled for their very lives, that here things are different, that the United States is truly a land with justice and liberty for all.

Yesterday I received a synagogue voice message from a woman named Rose, who found a Starbucks card in front of a supermarket with my name on it.  She explained that she knew how valuable these cards are, because she has one herself. As I was the only Gary Pokras she could find, she asked me to let her know if the card was indeed mine.

What a wonderful act of kindness!  This lovely human being went way out of her way to help a total stranger.

As it turns out, the card was mine.  I called her back, and left her a message of gratitude, letting her know that I would be happy to meet at her workplace so that she would not have to go any further effort to return it to me.  This morning I received another message from her.  It was already in the mail.  You see, she was leaving for a week's vacation and did not want me to have to wait.

There was a time when is was fashionable to talk about random acts of kindness.  A whole movement developed out of this concept, encouraging us to look for random and unexpected opportunities to do a kind deed.  It felt great to perform these random acts, but do you know what feels even better?   Daily acts of kindness.  Do we really think that "Love your neighbor as yourself" (Lev. 19:18) is about occasional or random behavior?

Rose was not doing a random act.  She was clearly operating from a deeper place.  If we could all do the same, if we could all go out of our way to act with kindness and compassion every single day, then we would truly be bringing the Levitical commandment to life, loving each other as ourselves.  Compared to most of our experience, THAT would be ... unexpected.

Va'Etchanan is a real 'block buster' Torah portion, in that it contains both the reprise of the Ten Commandments and the Shema  - our most profound statement of faith.  In this video for Rosner's Domain, Shmuel Rosner asks a wonderful question from the parasha: can we really be commanded to love God?