Dr. Arik Greenberg delivers a powerful speech at 5th Annual Interfaith Solidarity March LA on 9/13/20

“I want to express my sincere gratitude to all the inspiring panelists, speakers, performers, and volunteers who put so much work into this event. This virtual march was made successful by those who worked tirelessly behind the scenes. I cannot conceive of a better and more dedicated team of people than those who worked with me this year. I’m proud to know you and call you colleagues, as well as friends. I also want to thank those who attended and those who helped publicize this event, including our partners in other cities and regions, and those marching with us overseas. Without all of you, we would just be a couple of friends on a Zoom call.

I’m really inspired and enthusiastic about events like these. I believe that what we are doing here is changing hearts and minds, building bridges and building peace from the bottom up, in the communities themselves, where it really can do some good.

My friend, Rabbi Zach Shapiro once commented that nobody ever won an argument over Facebook. I’m sure that somebody once did, but his humorous observation still holds true. We tend to become entrenched in our viewpoints and we don’t listen to one another. And while social media has opened up myriad ways for people to communicate and interact with others across the world, it also tends to promote tribalism and polarization. One of the things we have tried to do by bringing together diverse voices in these interfaith marches is to encourage peaceful change and reconciliation, through respectful sharing and consideration of ideas.

My wife, Melissa and I were talking last night about a realization that people on the other end of the political spectrum are equally passionate and caring about the state of the world. Many people are so passionate about making changes—as passionate and caring as we are—and they are convinced that they are right—just as we are—but we have different sources for our opinions, and possibly neither of us have the complete picture. I have seen a decline in civility and respect for human dignity in the last few years. Many of us have. Perhaps people observed this in earlier times as well, but these are our times and it is disturbing to us.

If we are to come to better and more equitable outcomes, reduce the divisiveness in the world today, we are going to have to listen to other people that disagree with us, and to see the common humanity in them. Even people that we don’t like. My friend, Pastor Brad Bailey, the pastor of Westside Vineyard Church, who spoke at last year’s march, said, “Tolerance is how we treat those who disagree with us.” I have often heard the overused platitude that tolerance is not enough. That we need more than tolerance in order to save our world. I think the push for collaboration and cooperation and universal love is great.

But we won’t get there until we have universal tolerance. No one ever died from an abundance of tolerance, or even sufficient tolerance. People are harmed when their human rights are not acknowledged or respected; when there is an absence of toleration. Anything beyond that is advanced material, the dessert after dinner; or to quote Pink Floyd, “How can you have any pudding, if you don’t eat yer meat!?” You don’t have to agree with someone, but you have to respect their human rights. And when anyone’s rights are denied, the rights of others will be denied in retaliation. It is a self-perpetuating cycle that escalates.

I’ve often noted that the interfaith community tends to skew to the left, as a progressive movement. In the past few years, I have observed an increase in partners from the more conservative religious communities. Their full inclusion in this movement is going to be crucial to the success of our movement. Lately, I’ve been interviewing people for my next book, provisionally called Interfaith America, about the interfaith movement and where it is going. I’ve found it striking how many hard-core interfaith or multi-faith workers there are in the evangelical communities, but we rarely hear about them. Perhaps they are overshadowed in the news by their less tolerant co-religionists, but sometimes it is our own unwelcoming attitude that makes them shy away from interfaith events where we could meet and work with them. It is crucial that we recognize the work of conservative partners like Pastor Rick Warren, Bob Roberts, and Elijah Brown, and to embrace their communities even if some of us don’t like their theology or aspects of their moral stance.

As a community, as a nation, we are going to have to learn that it is okay to disagree with people, but we have to respect their lived experiences, have civil discussions and not thrive on divisive rhetoric and interactions, as if we were professional pugilists eager for our next fight. If humanity is going to survive and thrive—through pandemics, global warming, civil unrest and violent reactions to our cultural and societal differences—we are going to have to see and respect the common shared humanity in each other and refrain from demonizing each other. Yes, there are people that do bad things, but each of us has a kernel of humanity that, if we believe in human rights, we must respect.

We have some problems in our country, which echo the problems around the world at large. And some of these have to do with our methods of policing and the use of force. I don’t know how to solve the problems we face regarding the nexus between our country’s historic, endemic racism, police brutality, and the militarization of police forces. I don’t have the answers. But I do know how it will not be solved: by polarization and reducing our conversation partners to enemies and denying their shared humanity. Is it possible for me to support Law Enforcement (and I do) and still call for stricter policies, updated training, and more accountability of individuals who dishonor their badges? Yes. Just the same as I can support the military and yet call for the accountability of those who torture and murder civilians in war zones—the Robert Bales and William Calleys of the world—and to challenge the policies that allow and even encourage wartime atrocities. Any individual that dishonors their vows brings disgrace to and endangers the whole organization. We can and must do better.

Two weeks ago, I was profoundly disturbed to hear of the fatal shooting of Dijon Kizzee by LA Sheriff’s deputies, a black man who although he had dropped a firearm while fleeing, was by that point unarmed. We can and must do better.

I was also disturbed by reports that there are actually gangs that exist within the LA Sheriff’s Department, some of which are racially motivated and operate with impunity outside the law. We can and must do better.

I am profoundly disturbed every time I see examples of police brutality and overreach, both in the U.S. and abroad. We can and must do better.

I was also disturbed last year, when the LA Sheriff ended the program where deputies support and interact with interfaith events like ours, effectively putting an end to the presence of some of our longtime and most recognizable friends. We can and must do better.

But I was equally disturbed this morning to learn that someone had shot two Sheriffs’ deputies last night, unprovoked—one of which victims was in fact a young mother of a small child. And that outside of the hospital where these two deputies were being treated, reportedly in critical condition, there were protesters blocking the entrance, shouting, “We hope they die.” This is not okay. We can and must do better.

Many of us have worked with Sheriff’s Deputies in our interfaith movement; those who’ve been with us in previous years’ marches. These are friends of ours. I cannot imagine anyone wishing harm on those friends. And similarly, I want to thank Chief Moore and our friends in Law Enforcement who are with us today to remind us of their continued commitment to progress and equitable justice. May God bless you and keep you and guide you in your charge to protect and serve.

When we descend into lawlessness, it is often the most vulnerable and the completely innocent who suffer, not the villains whom the mobs hoped would be held accountable by vigilante justice. Look at Robespierre’s Reign of Terror following the French Revolution, during which many of those who merely worked for someone in power were sent to their deaths under Madame La Guillotine; or the Russian Revolution in which not only the aristocracy suffered, but so did the peasants who were co-opted into a movement that shifted the wealth and power to a new set of bullies and strongmen—the Communist Party; or the Cambodian Khmer Rouge, that not only overthrew the Sihanouk regime, but descended into racist and classist genocide that brutally murdered upwards of 2 million people, mostly those who were identifiable as educated. Time and again, we see a descent into lawlessness harming the most vulnerable, coupled with a blatant disregard for human rights.

Can we protest violence without protesting people, or perpetrating and propagating our own violence? Yes. I know that we all want change now—whatever it is that we want changed, we want it now. We are impatient. But our species has been alive for 2 million years in some form, and it has taken time to get to where we are now, no longer living in caves, fighting each other over access to a herd of animals. But we have to defend against another descent into tribalism, retreating back into our ideological caves. We are going to have to focus on the long game and see each other as fellow travelers, fellow organisms within a larger entity. We are going to have to continue to be patient and to work towards a common goal, with love and compassion.

The I Ching, the ancient Chinese Confucian text, counsels against swift and violent attempts at change, which are rarely lasting. Only gradual and well-reasoned change is permanent. Hexagram 53 of the I Ching says, “No influence such as that exerted by agitators has a lasting effect.”

The Tao Te Ching, number 30, also speaks ill of violence as a method of change:

Powerful men are well advised not to use violence,
For violence has a habit of returning;
Thorns and weeds grow wherever an army goes,
And lean years follow a great war.
…
For even the strongest force will weaken with time,
And then its violence will return, and kill it.

I don’t want our human propensity toward violence to kill us. I want us to survive and thrive for another 2 million years. Earlier, I mentioned the book I’m writing about the interfaith movement. Those of us here in this gathering are writing it together. So how do we want it to end? Where do we want it to go? Our work now is what will help our species and our planet to survive that long.”