Minnesota, Rabbi Tarfon and the language of horror
How an ancient Jewish sage counsels us to be part of the ‘coalition of the horrified’

Protesters shout slogans against ICE officers outside of the office of Minnesota Governor Tim Walz. Photo by ROBERTO SCHMIDT / AFP via Getty Images
I sat up when Senator Tina Smith of Minnesota described a “coalition of the horrified” that formed in response to this past weekend’s appalling shooting of a protester on a Minneapolis street — the second shooting of an American citizen there by ICE
“Coalition of the horrified?” I thought. “That’s a great phrase. And it can move people.”
“There’s sort of this coalition of the horrified that has developed around what’s been happening here in Minnesota. And it includes law enforcement,” Smith told the PBS News Hour. “It is people who care about Second Amendment rights — the level of rejection of this behavior of ICE is growing, not diminishing.”
Perhaps Republican politicians are finally horrified enough to talk with Democratic colleagues about how disproportionate all of this is.
While “horrified” is a relatively recent word, first used in 1791, the word “horror” is quite old, and its history helps explain what many of us are feeling.
The word “horror” comes from the Middle English orrour, horrour, which is borrowed from Anglo-French horrour, which is in turn borrowed from Latin horrōr.
According to Merriam-Webster, it means “standing stiffly, bristling (of hair), shivering (from cold or fear), dread, consternation.”
That “stiffness” seems apt.
In recent weeks, I have spoken to several friends and neighbors who could not figure out how to respond to the Trump administration’s most recent outrages.
“I just don’t know what to do,” a longtime neighbor and Democratic activist said.
“What can one person do about any of this?” an old friend commented sadly. “I feel powerless.”
In other words, stiffness had set in.
But Senator Smith’s apt language gives us all a starting point. Form a coalition. Join with others. Stand together.
And Jewish tradition has a deeper answer to the “what to do?” question. It comes from Pirkei Avot, or “Ethics of the Fathers.”
Rabbi Tarfon was discussing what to do when the day appeared short, but the to-do list was long. His famous comment — lo alecha ha’mlacha ligmor — is relevant now.
“It is not your duty to finish the work,” Rabbi Tarfon said. “But neither are you at liberty to neglect it,” Rabbi Tarfon said,
This is the same passage that Josh Shapiro, the Jewish governor of Pennsylvania, quoted when he was elected in 2022.
He quoted the same verse again after Minnesota governor Tim Walz was selected as the vice presidential pick. Shapiro had been a contender, but ultimately was not chosen.
What is important now is not only to know who we may be standing with, but also who we are not standing with.
We don’t stand with those who shoot protesters to death in the street. And we don’t have to complete everything — we don’t have to agree with fellow protesters on every political issue — but as Rabbi Tarfon explained, we do have to get in the fray.
We have to remember our tradition. Ben chorin, frequently translated as “at liberty” in the Rabbi Tarfon phrase, is actually an idiom meaning a free man.
If it sounds familiar, it may be because it’s the singular form of b’nei chorin, or “freeborn” in the plural, part of the famous avadim hayinu or “we were slaves” narrative in the Haggadah.
Once we were slaves; now we are free.
We cannot allow ourselves to be so stiff with horror that we become powerless. We cannot give up freedom for slavery.
We must instead use that horror to come together. I hope Senator Smith is right that at the leadership level, that is already happening. At the language level, at least, I can feel a turn.