When Prayer Walks and Justice Speaks 

How might we embody a contemplative response to God’s ongoing call for dignity and equality? In May’s “We Conspire” series, we feature an excerpt from Rabbi Or Rose’s article in CAC’s Spring “ONEING: Loving in a Time of Exile.” In his article, Rabbi Rose tells of the prophetic witness and spiritual audacity of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, one of the great religious figures of the 20^th century.   

Heschel came to the United States in 1940 under great duress, narrowly escaping the brutal Nazi onslaught in Europe. Born in Warsaw, Poland to an illustrious Hasidic family, [1] he was a doctoral student at the Friedrich Wilhelm University (today Humboldt University) and a candidate for rabbinic ordination [2] the liberal Institute for Scientific Jewish Studies in Berlin when Hitler came to power in 1933. After being deported to Poland in 1938, Heschel received a special scholar’s visa from Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati, Ohio. Broken-hearted and alone, he left Warsaw in 1939, just six weeks before Germany invaded Poland. 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. [3] In reflecting on this agonizing turn of events, Heschel described himself as a “brand plucked from the fire in which my people were burned to death.” [4]  

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. This included his engagement in the civil rights movement, the struggle for the religious and cultural freedom of Soviet Jewry, the Second Vatican Council, and the anti-Vietnam war movement. It was no accident that Heschel emerged as a social activist as he was working on the English adaptation of his doctoral thesis on the Hebrew prophets. Reflecting on the impact of this book project, he stated: “I’ve learned from the prophets that I have to be involved in the affairs of man, in the affairs of suffering man.” [5] Heschel’s The Prophets, published in 1962, was a key source of inspiration for several leaders in the civil rights movement. [6]  

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 may have been easier for the Children of Israel to cross the Red Sea than for a Negro to cross certain university campuses.” He went on to challenge listeners—including many Jewish audience members—to choose between the legacies of Pharoah or Moses. [7]  

It was at this conference that Heschel first met the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The two became close friends and colleagues and remained so until Dr. King’s murder in 1968. While these men came from very different backgrounds, they shared several qualities that brought them together during a tumultuous and transformative period in American life.… And both men were masterful at using their exegetical and linguistic skills to awaken people’s consciousness and stir them to “love in action.” … [8]    

In fine prophetic fashion, Heschel railed against ritual observance divorced from social responsibility. He wrote, “Prayer is no panacea, no substitute for action.” [9] While Heschel was an eloquent spokesperson for a life of disciplined religious praxis—including prayer and other traditional observance [10]—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. [11]  

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.   

Motivated not only by theological conviction and historical knowledge, but by personal experience, 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 [the prophetic witness of] 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] To learn about this popular Jewish revival movement, see David Biale et al., Hasidism: A New History (Yale University Press, 2017).   

[2] He received traditional s’mikhah (rabbinic ordination, “laying on of hands,” see Numbers 27:18–23) from his Hasidic teachers as a teenager.   

[3] See Susannah Heschel’s introduction to Abraham Joshua Heschel: Essential Writings, as well as Edward K. Kaplan, Abraham Joshua Heschel: Mind, Heart, Soul (Jewish Publication Society, 2019).   

[4] “No Religion is an Island,” Abraham Joshua Heschel: Essential Writings (Orbis, 2011), 116. 

[5] See “Carl Stern’s Interview with Dr. Heschel,” in Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1997), 399. Heschel began thinking about issues of religion and justice much earlier in life, publishing poems on this theme as a teenager. In fact, his very first book was a bilingual collection of Yiddish poetry with an arresting title, The Ineffable Name of God: Man trans. Morton M. Leifman (Continuum, 2007 [originally published in 1933]).  

[6] See, for example, the comments by Congressman John Lewis in Martin Doblmeier’s 2021 documentary film, Spiritual Audacity: The Abraham Joshua Heschel Story (Journey Films).  

[7] “Religion and Race,” Abraham Joshua Heschel: Essential Writings, 65.  

[8] This was an expression Dr. King used repeatedly. To learn more about the shared values and priorities of these modern prophetic figures, see Susannah Heschel, “Theological Affinities in the Writings of Abraham Joshua Heschel and Martin Luther King, Jr.,” Black Zion: African American Religious Encounters with Judaism, ed. Yvonne Patricia Chireau and Nathaniel Deutsch (Oxford University Press, 2000), 168–186.  

[9] Abraham Joshua Heschel, Man’s Quest for God: Studies in Prayer and Symbolism (Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1954), 8.  

[10] See Heschel, Man’s Quest for God and Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1951).  

[11] Television commentator Melissa Harris-Perry quoted these words as part of an interview she conducted 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, https://www.msnbc.com/melissa-harris-perry/watch/john-lewis-recounts-memories-of-bloody-sunday-410061379607.  

This article first published in ONEING: Loving in a Time of Exile, Vol. 13, No. 1 (CAC Publishing, 2025). 

Reflect with Us  
In what ways has contemplation invited you to move beyond passive spirituality into acts of embodied justice? How have prayer and presence shaped your response to suffering—not as escape, but as a sacred call to march, speak, and stand with others in love? Share your reflection with us.   

“We Conspire” is a series from the Center for Action and Contemplation featuring wisdom and stories from the growing Christian contemplative movement. Sign up for the monthly email series and receive a free invitation to practice each month.