Gloria Steinem's (& Our) Imperative to Choose Life
This week, the world lost a legend in Gloria Steinem. She was one of the driving forces behind Free to Be You and Me, the 1972 classic children's album which became the soundtrack of my childhood. But one of my favorite gems about Steinem comes from the dedication she wrote to her 2015 memoir entitled My Life on the Road. It reads:
"THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO:
Dr. John Sharpe of London, who in 1957, a decade before physicians in England could legally perform an abortion for any reason other than the health of the woman, took the considerable risk of referring for an abortion a twenty-two-year-old American on her way to India.
Knowing only that she had broken an engagement at home to seek an unknown fate, he said, "You must promise me two things. First, you will not tell anyone my name. Second, you will do what you want to do with your life."
Dear Dr. Sharpe, I believe you, who knew the law was unjust, would not mind if I say this so long after your death:
I've done the best I could with my life. This book is for you."
In writing these words, Steinem subverts the "pro-life" claims of anti-abortion activists, making the primary life in question her own (rather than the life of a fetus). Now that Steinem's lifetime on this earth has officially drawn to a close, I concur that she seems to have done a pretty great job with her life. We should all be so lucky, to be able to make the same statement about ourselves at the end of a long, impactful life!
This week's Torah portion, Nitzavim-Vayeilech, contains a line that keeps drawing me back, one that is directly on-point with this theme of how to "do the best we can" and live maximally meaningful lives. God says to the Israelites (through Moses) in Deuteronomy 30:19: "I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life—in order that you and your offspring will live."
The words וּבָחַרְתָּ בַּחַיִּים (u'vacharta ba-chayim) -- "choose life" -- have garnered much attention from commentators over the centuries. Some have argued that these words cannot refer to mere biological survival, as if it did, this lesson would be so obvious that it wouldn't even need to be stated (wouldn't any reasonable and healthy person do so?!). For example, in The Torah: A Women's Commentary, a collection of essays and commentaries published by the Women of Reform Judaism, we find this interpretation: "In this passage, this language ("chayim") signifies the 'path of life,' the way that people choose to live their lives." This commentary is arguing that the phrase should be understood not as asking the Israelites to merely choose life itself, but rather to make an active choice about how they want to live their lives.
Over the upcoming High Holidays, we will spend lots of time reflecting on our lives, and lots of prayer energy asking God to "remember us for life" and "inscribe and seal us in the book of life, blessing, peace, and sustenance." Here, though, in the lead-up to the High Holidays, we read "u'vacharta" -- the Hebrew verb root bet-chet-resh conjugated in the 2nd person singular. Thus the text is speaking directly to you (s). I appreciate that the Torah places emphasis on each and every one of us needing to make an active choice about how we want to use the gift of our own life.
This concept reminds me of Mary Oliver's famous poem "The Summer Day," which ends with the following lines:
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
That, of course, is the million dollar question! It's also a particularly timely question, as we hurtle towards the Jewish New Year of 5787. If we had to distill the High Holiday season to a single point, it might well be this: to consider that everything (ourselves included) will ultimately die, and to know, meanwhile, that it is up to us to make the most of our lives.
And so, this Shabbat, I invite you to sit with these related questions:
If Dr. Sharpe had instructed you, as he instructed Gloria Steinem back in 1957, "You will do what you want to do with your life," what would you have to report back to him at this point in your journey? What would you hope to be able to say by the end of your life, and how do you want to get from here to there?
What would you tell Mary Oliver about what it is that "you plan to do with your one wild and precious life"?
What does it mean to you, in this particular year, to obey the imperative command: וּבָחַרְתָּ בַּחַיִּים (u'vacharta ba-chayim), "choose life"?
Wishing us all much sweetness in the New Year, and the possibility of lives imbued with meaning and purpose, now and always!
Shabbat shalom!
Rabbi Rachel Nussbaum
P.S. - One final, tangential thought from me today: The biblical word וּבָחַרְתָּ ("choose") shares a shoresh/root with the Hebrew word for "elections": בְּחִרוֹת (bechirot). Elections are an opportunity for us to make active choices about the world in which we live, and how we want it to be governed and administered. In our country right now, election security is a hot topic -- and now's the time for us to do all we can to defend democracy and ensure free and fair elections! Between now and Tuesday, November 3rd, lots of us will be engaging in election-related work to ensure that our voices are heard, as loudly and clearly as possible. Over the coming weeks, I'll also be keeping a close eye on Israeli society in the lead-up to their elections, scheduled for Tuesday, October 27th. Stay tuned for more on all of these important "choices" -- and may we choose life!
