With the conclusion of the Yuletide season, the ubiquitous presence of ads for gift suggestions will go into hibernation. But not to worry; they will return come September.
The custom of gift-giving at Christmas is said to have begun as an imitation of the Three Wise Men’s honoring the baby whose birth is celebrated on Dec. 25. But over the years, the focus on gift-giving and receiving has eclipsed the original reason for the custom. In fact, this focus on “the stuff” has become so central to the season that some have no compunction about committing acts of shoplifting, robbery, burglary—to make sure they have their fair share of “stuff.”
Among these thieves are “porch pirates,” those who steal packages delivered to other people’s doors. YouTube viewers may have seen videos popping up on their screens of such pirates, who amplify their brazenness with waves and kisses blown to doorbell cameras.
These videos, however, conclude with the thieves getting their “come-uppance”: The stolen packages often explode, covering villains with paint or glitter, and sometimes, even feathers. No one is physically injured, but instead humiliated. And if the package goes off in or near the thief’s vehicle, additional costs will be incurred.
Even after learning that the videos are not genuine but AI-generated, I can’t help but giggle at watching justice catching up with the thieves. My giddiness comes from seeing whatcan andshould happen to such miscreants, but in real life, it often doesn’t.
Then there is the reaction of thieves themselves. After coming onto the property uninvited and taking what is not theirs, they are the ones who become incredulous and indignantly angry when the packages go off—cursing, and threatening to call the police and sue for damages. Their responses only add to the comedy.
ButI also feel incredulous. Why? Because they remind me of real-life individuals who insist that they—and they alone—are the “victims” when their own misbehavior backfires on them. And these days, this phenomenon seems to be more acutely noticeable.
A “micro” example: A teenage gang member is charged with fatally shooting another teen, who admitted to the shooting, but protested that he didn’t tell his victim that he should die.
A “macro” example: Hamas and its supporters lament the carnage and casualties sustained from Israel’s responses to aggression, yet take no responsibility for starting the aggression and suffering it has caused.
Beginning with the story of Adam and Eve, taking responsibility for one’s misbehavior has been at the core of Judeo-Christian morality. Indeed, some theologians opine that the true moral sin in the Garden of Eden was not the first couple’s eating the forbidden fruit, but their not “owning up” to their disobedience.
From a certain perspective, one might suggest that the Bible’s perspective on good/evil and right/wrong begins even before Adam and Eve are introduced. The first verses of Genesis report that before God created the world, there was chaos and darkness. Chaos is defined as a lack of order, and order implies boundaries. The degree to which the Bible’s take on morality, with its insistence on behavior boundaries, is today so brazenly disregarded that moral chaos and moral darkness are increasing apace.
Certainly, this seems evident when the notion of personal responsibility itself is increasingly thought to be as irrelevant as the scriptural narratives that teach it. Certainly, this seems evident when morality is no longer determined by objective standards of “right and wrong” but instead is “relative,” often determined by mitigating factors such as skin color and/or socio-economic status. How often have we heard about individuals shoplifting or looting a department store, yet a priori, their crime was excused simply because they appeared to be economically disadvantaged?
Might there be a correlation on some level between the current uptick in moral brazenness and the increase in antisemitism?
God’s first act of creation was to limit chaos by creating light. At Sinai, God’s mandate to us was to be a “kingdom of priests and a holy people”—later restated by the prophet Isaiah to be “a light to the nations”—to bear witness to a God that expects human beings to follow a divinely given moral code that included taking personal responsibility for moral misbehavior. So perhaps it’s not surprising that an increase in a brazen disregard for this code parallels an increase in brazen Jew-hatred. Perhaps Jews are hated because we are known by this mandate to represent that moral “light” andits source.
Indeed, our community is now facing tremendous challenges, both external and internal. Nevertheless, we must not forget this mandate, especially because the moral light we represent has never been more in need of being shared than it is now. And its source has never been more in need of us. If we abandon them both, is there any other reason why we should stick around?
