oversaturated. In addition to his teaching, Beinart is editor-at-large of Jewish Currents. He also has by-lines in the New York Times and is a frequent TV personality. Sometimes I love his writing and perspective, other times less so.
It was not surprising that the room the event was held in at the Brown Faculty Club was entirely full. Many of the Brown University students who teach in the Rabbi Leslie Yale Gutterman Religious School and other familiar faces turned out for the discussion. But, what struck me most as I sat sandwiched between several other community rabbis clutching a recently returned copy of American Prometheus, was a quality Beinart shares with the subject of that book – the ability and willingness to admit when he believes he has been wrong, even loudly and publicly.
After seeing the destruction wrought by the fruits of his labor, J. Robert Oppenheimer had a very public change of heart. He spent the final decades of his life advocating for the dismantlement of the atomic project he was instrumental in creating, risking his social capital and livelihood in the process. His courage to honestly assess and interrogate his life’s work, grappling with how he and his colleagues missed the mark, is perhaps the most patriotic and inspiring aspect of his story. Similarly, in Beinart’s talk, I was most impressed by his ability to honestly confront times in his career when he felt he had been wrong. Specifically, when asked about his enthusiastic support of the Iraq War he quipped, “Both my first two books could be subtitled, why I got the Iraq War wrong.” He went on to say that this change was not precipitated solely through learning new things; rather, he expressed that what was equally if not more important was the intellectual humility required to admit that his previously held frameworks were no longer serving him. For a public intellectual, an admission of fallibility could be tantamount to the end of one’s career.
For the rest of us, the discomfort inherent in our own human frailty and capacity to err can disable us from doing the work required to examine frameworks that might be unsustainable. In this Pesach season, let us no longer allow ourselves to remain enslaved to ways of thinking that no longer serve us. Let us recommit ourselves to be unlike Pharoah, who hardened his heart, may each of us greet spring’s rebirth with open hearts and open minds. As we do so we fulfill the obligation enjoined upon us no less than twice in the Passover Haggadah, BeChol Dor VaDor Chayav Adam Lirot Et Atzmo K’eilu Hu Yatza MiMitzrayim, in every generation it is our duty to see ourselves as if each of us personally went out of Egypt. Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav reads the tradition even more expansively, "The Exodus from Egypt occurs in every human being, in every era, in every year and even on every day." But we must be willing to surrender ourselves to such a humbling and disorienting experience. We must be willing to do the cheshbon hanefesh, accounting of the soul. Our rabbis taught, just as we remove hametz from our homes, we are equally responsible for removing the spiritual hametz from our hearts. Happy cleaning!
Shabbat Shalom, Preston
