LIVE: Croatia vs Spain – UEFA Nations League as reflected on by Rabbi Leah Ben-Zion
On an ordinary evening at our synagogue, between a committee meeting on migrant solidarity and preparations for the coming Shabbat, our youth gathered. They watched the live dispatch of a soccer match between Croatia and Spain, captivated by young Spanish prodigy Lamine Yamal. In a world fraught with political weariness, ecological urgency, and social strain, their unburdened joy was palpable. This moment reminded me how instinctive the human desire is for play, for shared spectacle, and for communal passion. Indeed, communal passion brings strangers together in harmless celebration.
Our prophetic tradition never dismissed the public square’s physical joy. The prophet Zechariah envisioned the redeemed Jerusalem not as a solemn citadel of rigid piety. Instead, he saw a lively city. There, elderly elders sit peacefully along the streets. Open squares fill with boys and girls playing. Healthy societies make room for play. Sports, at their finest, offer rare neutral ground. Diverse peoples meet within agreed rules. Competition does not require cruelty. Collective drama can be shared across borders without weapons.
Sports, Immigration, and Justice
As a rabbi devoted to civil rights and refugee sanctuary, I cannot watch young men like Lamine Yamal without seeing profound contradictions. These contradictions are woven into modern civic life. Yamal, the son of North African and Equatorial Guinean immigrant parents, grew up in Rocafonda, a working-class neighborhood. He carries the hopes of an entire nation on his shoulders. When he scores, crowds throughout Spain celebrate his brilliance. The national shirt transforms him into an emblem of pride. He becomes an ambassador whose artistry is claimed by the very society that often marginalizes the communities that raised him. These Croatia Spain reflections highlight a critical tension.
Here lies the pressing moral tension of our time. All across Europe and North America, political rhetoric grows harsher toward the migrant, the laborer, and the asylum seeker. Families fleeing poverty, drought, and conflict face fortified borders and legal suspicion. Yet, when an immigrant family produces an athletic marvel or a cultural icon, our societies gladly consume the fruit of their labor. Meanwhile, they continue to reject the tree. The Torah warns us against such selective dignity. Thirty-six times, the scriptures command us to love the stranger. They also remind us that we too were strangers in the land of Egypt. The covenant demands consistent hospitality, not conditional affection based on exceptional talent.
The Covenant of Consistent Hospitality
True community cannot be transactional. A culture that cheers for the sons and daughters of immigrants on the pitch must also defend the rights of their parents. We must defend them in neighborhood markets, visa offices, and housing courts. The principle of Kavod HaBriyot affirms the intrinsic honor due to every human being created in the divine image. This honor does not depend on a person’s ability to dazzle an audience or win a tournament. Every child living in the periphery carries infinite worth. This holds true whether they possess generational athletic gifts or simply ask for safety, fair wages, and an honest chance to thrive.
Sporting contests between sovereign nations can serve as beautiful reminders of international kinship. They show that rivalry can exist without hatred. However, they also hold up a mirror to our unfinished civic work. If we can unite across divisions to marvel at the swiftness and discipline of young athletes, surely we can summon that same imagination. We must build cities where every newcomer is protected and honored. Ultimately, our Croatia Spain reflections prompt deeper thought.
As the match ended, the young people in our hall turned off the screen. They headed home, but their laughter lingered in the sanctuary corridor. My prayer for them, and for all of us striving toward Tikkun Olam, is this: May we never let the spectacles of our culture distract us from its duties. May we enjoy the game. However, may we commit our deepest loyalties to the quiet, daily labor of justice. Let us welcome the stranger not only when they bring us glory, but simply because they are our neighbor.
Leave a Reply