Sunday, December 24, 2006
Merry Christmas! Being in the Jewish state, in the Holy City, somehow inspired a group of us that we wanted to see what was happening for Christmas. The original talk of the group was to see what was happening in Bethlehem, where thousands of Christians used to make Pilgramige to see the birth place of Jesus. Unfortunately, Palestinian violence was started up again in the territories, so we all decided to stay closer to home. Anna and I met with about ten other students and one of my professors to celebrate Christmas Eve, or Watch Night, at St. Andrews Church of Scotland. In Jerusalem, which is 2% Christian, the large majority of "church-goers" on Christmas Eve are Jews who are getting their taste of Christianity. Before the service started, the minister came to talk to us about Christmas and the Church of Scotland. It was a very different experience having someone explain the practice of Christmas to us, instead of us explaining our rituals to her. It was a very straightforward service; carols interspersed with readings from the bible and two reflections (like sermons). We had a great time, enjoying the singing and the festive atmosphere.
While singing Christmas carols, I felt unsure about singing along. Not because I wasn't Christian, but because I felt like a tourist in someone else's faith. In my high school and college choirs I was often angry or bitter over Christmas carols, as if singing them were an insult to me. But tonight it was exactly the opposite, as though I might be ruining someone else's religious experience by my participation.
And that struck me too: I am no longer seeking religion. Maybe it seems a little obvious now that I'm studying to be clergy =), but for a long time I really didn't have a place. All of a sudden, here I am, in church, singing a song that for me is just a song, and being able to just enjoy myself because I know where my place is.
We had a lovely night, staying up past midnight with a few Christians to welcome in Christmas Day. Anna said to me as we walked home that although she never celebrated Christmas in her home, but rather celebrated with her family on Christmas night, she began to feel something missing as the day approached this year in Jerusalem. We've gone every year to her Aunt Theresa's house to celebrate Christmas, enjoying the warmth of family and the belly ache of too much delicious food. But this year we won't be joining. "I realized," Anna said, "that Christmas has become a ritual for me. And I'm happy that we were able to recognize it in some way. It was like home because I don't celebrate Christmas, but I like being with others while they do."
Happy Holidays!
Friday, December 22, 2006
Anna and I went on a tour of Mea Shearim last week, the ultra-Orthodox neighborhood in Jerusalem that you hear about sometimes, where some people live as they did 100 or even 200 years ago. It's got huge signs at the entrance like this one:
from flickr.com
We've certainly heard about violence against tourists wandering through these neighborhoods, but we really never expected to see it ourselves. I'd been on a tour of the area only a week before without incident. Our goal was to see Hanukkah in an ultra-Orthodox neighborhood, where they put menorahs outside their doors in glass cases (to protect from the wind). It's very pretty and a tradition that's been lost in Reform America.
In one neighborhood, a man came out of his home, asking us to leave. A few minutes later, we stopped in front of a yeshiva and were asked to leave again, this time punctuated with something thrown at one guy in our group. The tension increases. A few minutes later, as we're winding our way out, a man begins screaming at us and grabs Gingy, our group leader, bellowing at him, calling him an "evil one" in Hebrew. The crazed man was screaming himself hoarse, getting the attention of the entire neighborhood, while we walked in a near-panic back the way we came. Gingy remained calm, all the while the crazy man is screaming things like "Return to Germany" and "why do you want to make money off of us?" It was a terrifying experience. That ultra-Orthodox man was hysterical and could not have listened to reason.
In discussing the event with a friend, Anna mentioned that she still wanted to go back to Mea Shearim to buy a seder plate. Her friend asked a great question: "Why do you want to support those people with your money?"
In Israel, many--perhaps the majority--of the ultra-Orthodox live off the Israeli welfare system. Although clearly some have businesses and other jobs, in the main they believe that studying Torah is the highest priority, above making an income. And that hysterical man is part of a minority which actively threatens violence. But questions remain: what is our relationship to these people who scream at tourists walking through their neighborhood? Who sometimes threaten violence? Who live off welfare paid for by the rest of the country? Should the study of Torah be subsidized in the Jewish State? Many in this community avoid military service too. Are these the Jewish values Anna and I, as Reform Jews, want to support?
Many of you at home are concerned with Israel's future. As modern American Jews, we need to take care with our money, our attention, and our support. Why should we support Chabad, who considers Reform Judaism to be a basically non-Jewish life? If you want to donate money to Israel, why not donate to the Israeli Religion Action Center or the Israeli Movement for Progressive Judaism, which support the same values you believe in: egalitarianism, equality, and pluralism. These liberal values are Jewish values, and we cannot let other people define who we are as Jews. Unless we stand up for what we believe and support those who represent our views, we risk losing those values entirely.
from flickr.com
We've certainly heard about violence against tourists wandering through these neighborhoods, but we really never expected to see it ourselves. I'd been on a tour of the area only a week before without incident. Our goal was to see Hanukkah in an ultra-Orthodox neighborhood, where they put menorahs outside their doors in glass cases (to protect from the wind). It's very pretty and a tradition that's been lost in Reform America.
In one neighborhood, a man came out of his home, asking us to leave. A few minutes later, we stopped in front of a yeshiva and were asked to leave again, this time punctuated with something thrown at one guy in our group. The tension increases. A few minutes later, as we're winding our way out, a man begins screaming at us and grabs Gingy, our group leader, bellowing at him, calling him an "evil one" in Hebrew. The crazed man was screaming himself hoarse, getting the attention of the entire neighborhood, while we walked in a near-panic back the way we came. Gingy remained calm, all the while the crazy man is screaming things like "Return to Germany" and "why do you want to make money off of us?" It was a terrifying experience. That ultra-Orthodox man was hysterical and could not have listened to reason.
In discussing the event with a friend, Anna mentioned that she still wanted to go back to Mea Shearim to buy a seder plate. Her friend asked a great question: "Why do you want to support those people with your money?"
In Israel, many--perhaps the majority--of the ultra-Orthodox live off the Israeli welfare system. Although clearly some have businesses and other jobs, in the main they believe that studying Torah is the highest priority, above making an income. And that hysterical man is part of a minority which actively threatens violence. But questions remain: what is our relationship to these people who scream at tourists walking through their neighborhood? Who sometimes threaten violence? Who live off welfare paid for by the rest of the country? Should the study of Torah be subsidized in the Jewish State? Many in this community avoid military service too. Are these the Jewish values Anna and I, as Reform Jews, want to support?
Many of you at home are concerned with Israel's future. As modern American Jews, we need to take care with our money, our attention, and our support. Why should we support Chabad, who considers Reform Judaism to be a basically non-Jewish life? If you want to donate money to Israel, why not donate to the Israeli Religion Action Center or the Israeli Movement for Progressive Judaism, which support the same values you believe in: egalitarianism, equality, and pluralism. These liberal values are Jewish values, and we cannot let other people define who we are as Jews. Unless we stand up for what we believe and support those who represent our views, we risk losing those values entirely.
