Dear all,
I recently got a summons for jury duty. The original date conflicted with something on my calendar, so I postponed it until last week—when I thought my schedule would be more open.
The truth is, my schedule is hardly ever open.
Those words we read during the Holy Days—“Who shall live and who shall die?”—remind me that a rabbi never really knows when we’ll be called upon to be present for someone in our flock’s most important moments.
And yet, there I was, at the courthouse, doing my civic duty, for an important moment in time for complete strangers.
I ultimately wasn’t seated this time (I’ve served on a jury before), but I was struck by the whole process.
No one wants jury duty. But as I sat there, I found myself feeling grateful. My ancestors came to this country from places where justice could not be counted on. And here I was, sitting in a courtroom where ordinary people would be asked to listen, consider the facts, and help determine what happened.
That’s a pretty remarkable thing.
This wasn’t a case of “Who shall live and who shall die?” But the decisions being made would still change people’s lives.
It made me think about how often we make judgments about other people—with nowhere near the time, information, or responsibility of a jury.
As we approach the Holy Days, maybe that’s something worth remembering: to judge carefully, to listen closely, and to remember just how much our showing up matters.
With love and Shalom,
Rabbi Zachary R. Shapiro
