Our society offers an array of temptations to titillate every taste. Sex, money, power, fame--all beckon and entice. We are so accustomed to the corruption of our leadership that we are no longer surprised when a politician is caught in a restroom or in his office with a teen intern or page, or when a famous televangelist is found in a hotel room with a prostitute. Our newspapers routinely inform us of legislators who accepted bribes or who intervened on behalf of disreputable but wealthy supporters. Even the lives of movie stars and rock musicians provide grist for a cynical view of human beings as motivated by lust, addiction, and fame. We no longer expect the prominent or the powerful to embody nurturing and moral ideals. With few role models left, is it any wonder that our children don't aspire to great heights, or that our culture has so few real heroes available? Even though we are no longer shocked by this plethora of weakness and deceit, it is still striking that each person caught offers a remarkably similar excuse: "It isn't my fault. The pressures of my job led me to do this. Besides, everybody does it and it isn't wrong anyway." From the criminals of Watergate to the adulteries of Reverends Swaggart and Bakker, every guilty person hides behind the protection of convention and pressure. Is it possible that our low expectations of our leadership is a legitimate excuse for the shocking abandonment of the standards of honesty, integrity, and compassion commanded by the Torah? Can these people legitimately cling to the altar of convention, claim asylum in the sanctuary of their professions and their colleagues? As usual, the Torah contains a relevant message for the fallen standards of our age. In Parashat Mishpatim, the Torah notes that "when a man schemes against another and kills him treacherously, you shall take him from My very altar to be put to death." Even the altar in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem did not protect a criminal from justice! Sanctity is no cover for corruption, and the love of God is no excuse for human disregard. No matter how accepted a certain activity may be within one's profession, regardless of how many others may have taken bribes or molested children, the timeless claims of justice and equity cannot be swept aside without great cost to our entire community and nation. Rashi (11th Century France) makes this point explicitly, when he quotes the Talmud: "Even if he were a Kohen (Priest) and he intended to perform the sacrificial service in the Temple, take him away to be executed." According to the Mekhilta de-Rabbi Ishmael, "the punishment of murder should set aside the Temple service." A career in religion, or the noble callings of public service, medicine, law, business, or any other human endeavor, is a credit to those who pursue it with integrity and with human kindness. Such conduct provides a support to needy human beings, cultivates our ability to help each other and to elicit the highest potential of each member of our community. To pervert those same fields into excuses for human abuse, for transforming people into manipulated objects, is to deny all that is good and decent in human potential. In the face of that kind of callous cynicism or shameless greed, the nobility of those callings is neither shield nor cover. A murderous priest is removed from God's altar, even if preparing to perform the sacred service there. And corrupt politicians, adulterous clergy, and abusive entrepreneurs should expect no less. Judaism insists that the God of Israel is passionate about justice and honesty: "the seal of the Holy Blessed One is truth." To hide behind the Source of Truth in the pursuit of evil is to deny the authority of God and to scorn membership in human society. It is only under the healing light of honesty and morality that we can all thrive. We can all do better.
Shabbat Shalom.