Rabbi Or Rose tells of the prophetic witness and spiritual audacity of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel (1907–1972), one of the great religious leaders of the 20th century.
Heschel came to the United States in 1940 under great duress, narrowly escaping the brutal Nazi onslaught in Europe…. Tragically, many of Heschel’s family members—including his mother and three of his sisters—were murdered by the Nazis in the following months and years…. After acculturating to life in the United States and establishing himself as a respected academic and gifted religious writer, Heschel became increasingly involved in public affairs….
Heschel gave his first major address on civil rights in March 1963 at the National Conference on Religion and Race in Chicago. In his remarks, he compared the plight of African Americans in the United States to the ancient Israelite slaves in Egypt. In one particularly dramatic moment, he stated, “It was easier for the children of Israel to cross the Red Sea than for a Negro to cross certain university campuses.” [1] He went on to challenge listeners—including many Jewish audience members—to choose between the legacies of Pharoah or Moses.
Heschel embodied the wisdom of the Hebrew prophets at a critical time in history. His Jewish faith inspired his commitment to justice for those on the margins:
In fine prophetic fashion, Heschel rails against ritual observance divorced from social responsibility…. He wrote, “Prayer is no panacea, no substitute for action.” [2] While Heschel was an eloquent spokesperson for a life of disciplined religious praxis—including prayer and other traditional observances—he was steadfast in his call for a holistic approach to spirituality and ethics….
Heschel joined Dr. King and other civil rights leaders in the famous Selma to Montgomery March. Upon returning from that protest, he wrote the following words:
For many of us the march from Selma to Montgomery was about protest and prayer. Legs are not lips, and marching is not kneeling, and yet our legs uttered songs. Even without words, our march was worship. I felt my legs were praying. [3]
For Heschel, marching for voting rights was a holy act, an embodied devotional response to God’s ongoing call for dignity and equality…. Rather than turn away in rage or despair from engagement with non-Jews, Heschel became a champion of racial justice and interreligious cooperation. He used his own experiences as a victim of bigotry and hatred to work to stamp out these destructive phenomena in his new homeland and throughout the world….
[Heschel] played a vital role in healing racial, religious, and political wounds in America and beyond…. Rather than retreating and insulating himself from the aches and pains of the world, he cultivated relationships with a diverse set of colleagues and organizations and set out to help transform it.
May Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel’s memory continue to serve as a source of inspiration and challenge to all those who seek to participate in the healing of our shared civilization.
References:
[1] “Religion and Race,” in Abraham Joshua Heschel: Essential Writings, selected by Susannah Heschel (Orbis, 2001), 65.
[2] Abraham Joshua Heschel, Quest for God: Studies in Prayer and Symbolism (Crossroad, 1987), 8.
[3] Television commentator Melissa Harris-Perry quoted these words as part of her interview with Dr. Susannah Heschel and Rev. Jacqui Lewis in honor of the fiftieth anniversary of the Selma March: “John Lewis recounts memories of Bloody Sunday,” MSNBC, March 8, 2015.
Or N. Rose, “Abraham Joshua Heschel: ‘Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity,’” ONEING 13, no. 1, Loving in a Time of Exile (2025): 69–73. Available in print or PDF download.
Image Credit and inspiration: Ricardo IV Tamayo, untitled (detail), 2021, photo, Cuba, Unsplash. Click here to enlarge image. Together, we hold the flowering of compassionate action, remembering our shared humanity and deep connection to one another and all of creation.
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When my 30-year government career ended with a demotion, I entered retirement with feelings of rage and failure. But after joining a course at my church, a Christian meditation group, and engaging in lots of exercise, I have been able to give myself the space to grieve this and other significant losses, including my children leaving home. I have acknowledged my behavior and my shadow self, which led to a lack of career progression. This has freed me to listen more effectively, which is improving my relationships. I am slowly becoming more able to live with gratitude for my life. I’m grateful for every morning I am able to sit out on my porch with a cup of tea, and every forest hike I take with my husband.
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