Katherine
Hackett has done everything America has asked of her. She is a hardworking,
skilled, educated professional who paid taxes and contributed to her community.
A single mother from Moodus, Conn., she raised two sons who have served our
country in the military.
She
worked for 17 years in the health care industry. But 13 months ago, without
warning, she got some devastating news that turned her life upside down. She
was handed a pink slip and given four weeks' severance pay.
Unemployment
benefits have been essential to Katherine's survival during this difficult
period. Still, they only covered her mortgage and COBRA, leaving her with only
$230 a month for the rest of her expenses. That's less than $8 a day for food,
utilities and other necessities. Fortunately, enrollment in the Health
Insurance Marketplace thanks to the Affordable Care Act cut her health care
costs dramatically. But now, because Congress didn't
pass an extension before the end of the year, Katherine and 1.3
million people like her have
had their emergency unemployment benefits cut off.
Katherine wrote a letter to
President Obama, explaining her struggle. This led to her traveling to
Washington a couple weeks ago to introduce the President as he urged Congress
to pass the extension of unemployment benefits.
Katherine
wanted the president to tell people that she isn't coasting, sitting around the
house and enjoying the good life. The mere suggestion is offensive. She is
working every day to try to find a new job, sending out resume after resume,
applying for every position for which she might be qualified.
In
the meantime, she's lost 15 pounds because she's buying less food. She can't
replace her old car. To save on heating costs, she's keeping her thermostat at
58 degrees and wearing a coat and hat in the house. She explains that she has a
"poverty of spirit" right now and wants nothing more than the dignity
and self-respect of going back to work.
There
are hundreds of thousands of stories like this in our country right now,
including a good number of folks in our own congregation. Most of us probably
know at least one person who is unemployed . And so far, our federal government
has failed to continue to provide the support these folks need to live while
they look for work and to avoid falling into poverty and hunger.
Those
who argue against extending these protections say that unemployment benefits
remove the incentive for folks to go out and look for a job. But economists
can’t prove that this is the case.
What
we do know is that no one is living the good life on unemployment insurance,
when they at least have the benefits. On average, it replaces only about half
of a worker’s earnings – who’s going to be satisfied with a 50 percent pay cut?
Why would Katherine Hackett rather wear a coat in the house than enjoy the
dignity of work?
What
we do know is that many people have given up looking for jobs – after sending
hundreds of resumes when there just aren’t enough jobs to go around – there is
a deficit of hope. And another thing we know is that with the cut of these
benefits, people all over this country are slipping deeper into poverty. I was
just at our local Shoreline Food Pantry last week and learned about how the
number of people going there has skyrocketed, and how the CT Food Bank which
supplies most of their food can’t keep up with the demand.
As
Jews, we know is that this is a moral issue, and that we are responsible,
because, as we read in this week’s Torah portion, “we know the heart of the
poor and the stranger, because we were strangers in the land of Egypt.”[2]
We
read in this week’s Torah portion that if we mistreat those in our society who
are powerless, God will hear their cries, and we will be responsible for the
consequences.
The
parasha this week, called “Mishpatim,” brings us a whole series of regulations,
including laws regarding how we are to treat the poor, the orphan, the widow
and the stranger.
Here
is one of them:
If you lend money to the poor among you,
do not act toward them as a creditor; exact no interest from them. If you take
your neighbor’s garment as a pledge for repayment of a loan, you must return it
to him each night before the sun sets; it is his only clothing, the sole
covering for his skin. In what else shall he sleep? Therefore, if he cries out
to Me, I will pay heed, for I am compassionate. (Exodus 22:24-26)
These
laws aren’t just presented to us as a dry list of things we must do or not do.
There is an emotional appeal – have empathy – “in what else shall he sleep?!”
We know the heart of the suffering. God hears their cry. And therefore, the
core of our covenant with God is our obligation to relieve that suffering and
protect the powerless because God is compassionate.
The
Medieval Jewish philosopher Maimonides teaches about a ladder of tzedakah –
that there is a spectrum of ways that we can give of what we have to make the
world more fair, more just. According to Maimonides, the highest level of
tzedakah is to give in such a way that we help people become self-sufficient.
I
heard an interview on the radio this week with a man who is unemployed, who
spoke of how unemployment benefits have helped him. He talked about what you
need in order to find a job – you need an internet connection in order to apply
for jobs- companies are not interested in seeing you in person to pick up an
application – they turn you away and say go home and apply online. Internet
access costs money, and unemployment benefits help with this. And then once you
get an interview, you need gas money and a car to get to the interview.
Benefits help to cover these costs as well.
Katherine
Hackett speaks of her "poverty of
spirit" – that all she wants is the dignity of a job. Unemployment benefits
provide some basic dignity so that she and others like her can become
self-sufficient again. These protections help to provide not only material but
spiritual support to people who need it.
In
an article I read this week about what it means to be poor, I read this quote
that has stayed with me: “to be poor is to feel controlled by the world.”[3]
To be poor, to be unemployed, is to live at the mercy of the world.
And
so I leave us with some questions – questions that we should be asking
ourselves and our public officials. Do we know the heart of the poor, the
stranger, the unemployed? And if we do, what is our response – do our hearts
close against them or open further? Can’t
we spare just a bit more mercy?
