Righteous Indignation

On January 27, I read the obituary of Rabbi Israel Dresner in the New York Times. A “Civil Rights Champion and King Ally,” he was 92 when he died. His son had this to say about him:

“A few years ago,” Avi Dresner said, “When I called my dad for one of our twice weekly phone conversations, I asked him how he was doing and he said, ‘Well, I haven’t lost my sense of righteous indignation, so I guess I’m doing OK.’”

I recalled this quote after having lunch with an old friend, a man who, like Rabbi Dresner, has devoted his life to racial equity and social justice. What, I asked him, do we do with our righteous indignation?

My friend is still working; his employment reflects his commitment. I am retired. When I was a community college president, I worked every day to improve the lives of students, their families and their communities. Now, I try to have an impact by serving on boards, volunteering my time and making donations. Yet I often feel like these efforts are inadequate. I am torn between guarding the time I feel I have earned to write, take classes, or just sit on the beach, and wanting to do more. Every day’s front page brings new challenges, new causes for righteous indignation.

I have friends preparing to leave the country if Trump or one of his acolytes retakes the white House. That would not be my choice. I would rather stay and fight. But do I have enough fight left in me?