This past Sunday we joined the throng of parents at universities and colleges all over the country moving their kids into their dorms. We loaded Elishai very efficiently into his room at the Aeπ house at William and Mary. This was year two so we had it down: took him and his girlfriend out to brunch, met his roommate, did our best to be helpful and not in the way. And before we left, Elishai and his roommate recited the blessing and affixed the Mezuzah he received from our religious school.

Israel does something similar here in our portion: they are commanded to set up stones across the Jordan in the Land, paint them with plaster and write out this Torah. Who is this for? The Midrash suggests it’s for the other nations: written in 70 languages (you’ll note that corresponds to the idea of the Septuagint) they were meant to teach the nations that they too could adopt Torah. But I think it’s meant to be more of a Mezuzah for the land, a reminder for the Israelites to observe the mitzvot, the sacred obligations and affirm the covenant with God and each other. Not just the ritual obligations, as important as they are, but the obligations we have to care for the least among us, the suffering and grief-stricken.

Not a day later I was in the sanctuary at Shiloh Baptist with Bishop William Barber, who is worth hearing if you never have, as well as the clergy of many of Wilmington’s  congregations, and the family of Kadir Skinner, the 19-year old who died at the hands of police 65 days ago. Our purpose in gathering was to support the family and acknowledge the ongoing pain as they wait for the city to do, well, anything. Bishop Barber reminded us that, irrespective of race or age or religion or class, so long as there isn’t accountability or honesty, we cannot feel safe once we pass the doors of our home.  I have no brief with our police, who have stood guard and gotten to know our congregation for the last decade or more. And we’re fortunate as a congregation to have good relations with our city officials. But we can acknowledge Kadir’s family’s pain and the seeming indifference by leadership to that pain. And we can remember our obligation as people of this city and state toward one another, that we cannot be a state of neighbors if we only involve that idea when things are good or we are running for office. The stones along the Jordan serve as a reminder to Israel of their obligations to God , Torah and one another. So do we need a reminder of our obligations to justice for our city and its citizens.

Kadir and Elishai are the same age. As I said to his family, what I wouldn’t give for them to have had all the inconveniences of moving their son into college instead of the pain they feel. Whether it is the ancient Israelite gazing upon the plaster-covered stones, or each of us as we leave our homes or this sanctuary looking at the mezuzah, we must be reminded of our obligation to ease the pain of others. May this be so. Amen.