Justice

Dear Reader,

Our transformation in 2020 continues, with the loss of a hero. U.S. Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg died shortly before sunset at the beginning of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. In the Jewish tradition, someone who dies on the Shabbat is considered a tzadik – a highly righteous person, and even more so if it is on the new year. In fact, the root of the word tzadik literally means “justice.”

Victoria Ortiz, in her book “Dissenter on the Bench,” tells us that on the wall of her Supreme Court chambers, Justice Ginsburg displayed artistic renderings of the Hebrew command from Deuteronomy: “Tzedek, tzedek tirdof,” which means “Justice, justice shall you pursue.”

I learned of Justice Ginzburg’s passing when I got up the morning after Rosh Hashanah began.

I was devastated.

Even though I didn’t know her personally, I considered her a hero, a champion for those who are vulnerable and have had their rights taken away. She fought long and hard throughout her life for equality, in spite of encountering challenge after challenge of her own.

Ortiz also reveals that the young Ruth Ginsburg wrote an article titled “One People,” in which she discussed the Jewish principle of “tikkun olam,” which refers to each individual’s responsibility to repair the injustices of the world.

She wrote that article at age thirteen.

The world knows that she devoted the rest of her life to that principle. That is the power of faith, built step by step over a lifetime.

I didn’t expect to be as deeply moved as I was by her loss. I cried the day I heard the news of her passing, and several more times throughout the following week.

Even now, I am raw.

Why is that?

Perhaps because Justice Ginsburg was not just a hero. She was a protector, larger than life in a highly visible, highly charged atmosphere. She was the Notorious RBG. Even in death, she was a groundbreaker, being the first woman to rest in state at the United States Capitol building.

And now she was gone. The void she left behind felt huge, and so many people wondered who would take her place. What would happen with that empty seat on the Supreme Court?

As I write, we still don’t know the final answer to that question. But regardless of how the drama plays out, I know that I mourned for the person, for Ruth, and for her willingness to take on the mantle of hero, despite the loss of her husband and several bouts of cancer, well into her eighty-seventh year.

Even heroes die.

Having given everything they could and played full-out, they inspire us, lift us up, educate us – and then they pass the torch.

It is easy to look for someone else to step up and take her place, that one special person who could step into the role of the Notorious RBG. But that’s a mistake. There is often no single person who replaces a hero, for if they have done their work well, they will be replaced by many.

A hero empowers others to step up, and that’s what I think Justice Ginsburg has done. She has handed us the torch of justice and equality. Who are we to drop it? Or, worse, who are we to refuse it outright?

Indeed, even though heroes die, they never really leave us. They continue to empower us long after they are gone. I have written elsewhere on the blog about how heroes, living or dead, can engage our intuition and provide us with guidance when we need it most.

I have no doubt that Ruth Bader Ginsburg is still with us.

Her inspiration still fills us; her passion still motivates us. And her example can still help us do the big work that needs to be done. She embodied the same Spirit that fills us all, and we can take great comfort and strength from that knowledge.

I can say little that hasn’t already been said about Justice Ginsburg. She left us with many quotes to inspire us, and wonderful interviews to guide us. In a way that only art can do, a beautiful poem by Maya Angelou expresses eloquently everything I am stumbling to express here and more; you can find it on my Facebook page.

In the end, we can and should grieve, as deeply and as long as we feel called to. Then we must take the torch firmly, stand on our own feet, and move forward together. Remember the title of thirteen year old Ruth’s article – “One People.” That is what we are.

Tzedek, tzedek tirdof.

I honor your loving heart,

John