An irresistable sense of mission...perhaps

What a day to travel. I had to remove my toothpaste and moisturizering cream along with everything liquid or gel. I feel grateful that my flight is undisturbed. So far, it is on time.

We processed our experience today. Mostly I was so greatful to be with this group of brave, caring clergy who want so badly to serve to alleviate dischord, hate and to provide connection and love. And we didn't do it perfectly, but we attempted. There were risky conversations and fear but more than anything there was the commitment to listen and to be present. Even at times to put on the shoes of the other even when it was painful and eye opening. Compared to the WorldPride experience, these folks with all of our flaws managed to create a shared community.

We spoke of the need for a more feminist discourse and ways to make other voices present. Balancing needs of this and that. But the hope for progress of queer folks (including straight allies) to bridge gaps that most shy away from is so tangible. I look forward to working on the expansion of this pilgrimage during my sabbatical.

And then there was the WorldPride rally that was at first a gentle gathering with none of the intensity of the wall. People mulled around and hugged each other. People of all ages and ethnicities holding rainbow signs, pink armbands and the like. It was almost like a big queer family picnic.

However, it was disrupted by a band of queer folk who protested because they felt Jerusalem should not have been the home to WorldPride. In red and black they spoke out of the unfairness of the occupation--mind you many of the WorldPride people had signs that also protested the wall and the occupation so draw your own conclusions. A small tussle broke out and people started running, especially because people were on edge. Someone fainted. We left (mostly because I had to in order to catch my plane).

As I travel I leave you with this Chinese Poem by Shu Ting

for the loneliness of an author
Perhaps...
Perhaps these thoughts of ours
will never find an audience
Perhaps the mistaken road
will end in a mistake
Perhaps the lamps we light one at a time
will be blown out, one at a time
Perhaps the candles of our lives will gutter out
without lighting a fire to warm us.

Perhaps when all the tears have been shed
the earth will be more fertrile
Perhaps when we sing praises to the sun
the sun will praise us in return
Perhaps these heavy burdens
will strengthen out philosophy
Perhaps when we weep for those in misery
we must be silent about miseries of our own.

Perhaps
Because of our irresistable sense of mission
We have no choice

Headed Home

The WorldPride rally is this evening. Afterwards, I hop in a cab to the airport and head home.

Shabbat is coming....

I look forward to seeing many of you soon.

Warmly,

Joshua

Testing, testing 123

After the movie, I dined with my friends at a Georgian restaurant—the Russian kind! No fried chicken and greens here! The waitress overheard us speaking about gay synagogues and she said, “You guys are bored making up such crazy things!” I pointed to my friend and said he is a gay rabbi (he was not) and that it is not made up. She, a secular Israeli, looked shocked and horrified. “There is only ONE Judaism, the rest is bullshit!” I smiled and said there has never been ONE Judaism. I was playful with her and not so serious; it kept things light. When she came with the check, she said there is only one Torah but before she could finish I said but she has 70 faces in Hebrew. “Why can’t one of those faces be of a handsome gay man?” pointing to my friend. She began to rebut and I said turn it, turn it and turn it again- everything is in it! This was from the ethics of the ancestors she nodded. I guess, but it still doesn’t seem right.

Afterwards, a friend Roni, joined us. A very handsome Israeli man who was very bright and articulate about the civil rights that gay folks have in Israel---far more than in the US.
We went to a bar called Joshua and met up with more friends of Roni’s. Including a 20 year man named Adam, also gay and in the military. I sat next to him and his gun strapped on his shoulder. It was amusing and sad thinking about having a casual dinner with your friends and your rifle on your person. Of course, this is nothing out of the ordinary for many Israelis.

From there I went to Shushan, where I met many of the drag queens of Jerusalem. Adam announced that I was a rabbi and that fascinated the drag queens—especially the one who had performed Tina Turner: Iman or his drag name was Queen of Sheba. Iman was Muslim of African and Palestinian descent. Identifying as gay, he was also married with 3 kids. I met Gil and several others I cannot remember.

Inside, I met with Dror, a man with whom I spoke for 3 hours. Managing a restaurant, he was also in school to become a ceramicist and a ceramics teacher. I began to ask him about his political views. He said, “I am not very political.” But then he began to tear up a little as he shared his brother was just called for reserve duty and was going into be part of the ground troops in Lebanon. He explained that in Israel many secular women ask what would be worse to have a gay son or a religious son? He explained that his mother was going straight to heaven because she had both. (His sister works in a sex toy store?!)

Dror, was 30 had a boyfriend (which wouldn’t have come up if I didn’t ask). His family lived in Northern Israel near Abulafia where he was born, which had been bombed. His parents were moving in between homes in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. After talking about all different topics Dror returned to the larger conflict and said in this bar I have many Palestinian friends at my restaurant I have workers who are Arabs and they are wonderful people. If I am political, I have to hate them, but how can I they are good people. Everything is too complex here, people don’t understand.

He looked at me with earnest open eyes widened, his lips trembling a bit and said, “Joshua, being born here in this country is a test. Everyone of us is being tested, Arab and Jew. It is a test. An impossible test.”

Saints and Sinners

Saints and Sinners

Last night there was no formal schedule so I decided to join two friends of mine from the States to see one of the movies for the WorldPride Film Festival. Joining us was a very interesting guy who was the Jerusalem editor for the Economist. We went to see the movie Saint 9/11.

The movie was a documentary about the life of Father Mychal Judge, the Franciscan who was the chaplain to the NYC Fire Department and who subsequently died in the twin towers because he was serving his men. This is even more poignant when he was offered the chance to leave the twin tower site with Mayor Guilliani, but he chose to stay.

I was moved by his story despite the very traditional format of the documentary. Throughout the movie there was this juxtaposition of his incredible generosity and his average “guy” status. In fact, there are several times when he refers to himself as a sinner, which was ironic because I had been wearing a T-shirt with a sense of irony that had sinner emblazoned on it. (We got a chuckle out of this.)

Father Judge was a charismatic man of the people who ministered to the homeless, the desperate, the ill and who became an ambassador of New York. And while the movie dealt with his humanity, like his being gay or his alcoholism, it was never in a complex or fully satisfying way. I believe that despite his willingness to admit his shortcomings, the film used his trials to show his triumphs without the struggle or pain in order to beatify him—at least as a gay saint. That is all said and good, but there are suggestions in the movies that this is not what father Judge would have wanted.

It was never clear how he reconciled his participation in Dignity or his ministry to people with AIDS as one of the first loving and affirming ministers treating people with GRID and then AIDS with dignity and humanity with his later turn as a chaplain to the fire fighters to whom he hid his gayness in total.

What impressed me about this man, who had both Clintons speak about him at his funeral, is that he was not one who sought out the elite or awards or the spotlight. He went about serving and his work. I wonder where this spirit is within the GLBT clergy community—is there a humility amongst us? I take this to heart as I saw in his life ways I do not live up to the selflessness he represented.

Everything in Moderation

The interfaith convocation (lacking Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu voices) for WorldPride has been held at the campus of HUC (the reform rabbinical seminary) in Jerusalem. They have been the optimal hosts and speaks so well of the Reform movement’s commitment to GLBT people. It has been impressive and I have been grateful to them for taking the lead.

When we arrived just on time to begin, the last panel had not yet finished. I gathered the speakers together, two of who were from my group, Rev Leanne Tigert (a UCC pastor, psychotherapist, author and professor) and Rev. Joseph Tolton, the founder of Harlem’s first GLBT church which is Pentecostal and progressive. Joining them was Rev. Pat Bumgardner from MCC NYC and Rabbi Ayelet Cohen, the assistant at CBST in NYC. I explained to them that it was my goal to maximize audience participation and that I was going to limit their times towards that end. This was agreed upon by all but then several people felt like they needed to tell me how to moderate.


I think sometimes there is an infantilization of younger rabbis by older rabbis. Also, I can’t help but feel like there is a thirst for starshine or to be seen as “THE LEADER” of the LGBT civil rights faith struggle and so people don’t engage with each other as colleagues but as potential competition. For the most part we are all good folks with good intent doing good work—there is a great deal more outreach to each other that would benefit both ourselves and the GLBT movement.

Perhaps it is because for many of us the struggle has been an isolated and individual one that has been lonely. It is sink or swim in many ways or at the least sink or obey your elders. While I regularly learn from my GLBT colleagues, especially other rabbis, I don’t always find it refreshing or possible to let my guard down. Furthermore, we could (myself included) practice our Tzimtzum, a mystical concept of diminishing the space one takes up. This is in order to make room for something else to emerge like God did in order for creation to form in a mystical framework. However, it is hard to banish a well entrenched sense of hierarchy that most people are comfortable with having.

The panelists spoke about liturgical and ritual innovation and tradition from their perspectives. Ayelet spoke about CBST’s new siddur that is in the works. It sounds like a phenomenal project that will have great ramifications and serve as a powerful Jewish liturgical resource. In particular she spoke of something that a few folks found troubling, but I loved, which was changing some of the verses in l’cha dodi to remove the reference to groom and bride. I eagerly await its printing.

During the questions, which we got to because people kept to their time as I gently nudged them, I was able to speak about the Pride Seder and our ability to include allies and transgendered people in the narrative of our liberation. Before wrapping up I received a note that Exodus, the straight to gay org was present and that I should welcome them in order to notify them. I did at the end saying that our values is to welcome all people in the image of God and that we should hope that they and we are treated with that framework as the beginning. Though we might not agree on things, that their presence should be respectful and also treated as respectful with those that they engage with and that hopefully it will be a learning experience for them.

Afterwards, it was as if I had won an Olympic event called the Uphill Moderation. People were effusive with their praise on the running of the panel. Despite their initial concern, I was told that I was the guy for the job in the future. Don’t worry I didn’t let the compliments get to my head, mostly because I believe in all things in moderation.

Banging my head against the wall

Banging my head against the wall

My hotel, is towards the center of town across from the Conservative movement’s Israeli portion of their seminary. It is also near a large intersection and around the corner is the PM’s house. There have been many protests right here. Women in Black* have a regular protest daily except Shabbat. Also there has been folks protesting off and on for a peaceful resolution to the current situation with Lebanon. There have been counterdemonstrations to them; however, a large group came and has staged a vigil outside of the hotel last night and today. Walking back from a dinner after a long day around 11pm, there were a group of Orthodox Jews wearing orange with posters that said “We Demand Victory”, “Say no to a ceasefire”, “Defeat our Arab Enemy” all in Hebrew. They had aluminum pans of kugel and potatoes and sleeping bags for the kids, one of whom eagerly declared, “We get to stay up all night!”

In the morning a different set of people bedecked in orange were handing out literature and bumper stickers. Most of them appeared to be Orthodox women, perhaps numbering a minyan (LOL). They identified as the Women in Green.**

I woke up early to join other queer folk for a demonstration at the Wall. Many rabbis who are here for WorldPride were present and one other from my group and 3 of the Christians. I have to say the lack of complexity in which it was handled seemed very sad to me. While they had informative speakers on our buses explaining about the organization that had led my previous tour Ir Amim/City of Nations or Peoples,*** the purpose of the rally itself was less than clear and I am question its meaning . The wall is something that is supported by most Israelis; however, not in its current form or plan, necessarily. There are people in Ir Amim who want as they say a "dignified divorce" and a viable situation. They don't protest the wall just the intentional undue burdens of separating people from olive groves, family members and the strategic creation of barriers to contiguity in the West Bank and to diminish the rapid population rate in E. Jerusalem.
I had the sense that many folks did not quite know why they were there in its complexity. It seemed as one large photo-op and interview site for people and from someone who witnessed on the side I was discomforted by what felt like a competition for pictures taken and reporters spoken to. Furthermore, I was saddened by what seemed like an unfortunate encounter with mother and daughter. The Mom had some pictures drawn by the 7 year old girl that said “Love Without Borders” and “Share land”. And she encouraged her daughter to hold one up, but her daughter was much more interested in holding the big rainbow ones with similar messages in English, Hebrew and Arabic. She picked one up and it was heavy and put it back down and walked away. The mom called her back and said, “Don’t you want to hold a sign?” “No”, she replied sullenly. “But you have to hold one. You can hold one of yours.” She began to pout and her mom nodded her head as if to say, “come on, you can do it.” She picked a sign up, a large one and with her mom stood in front of all the people.

The photographers clicked away while I looked on at this staged scenario in mild disgust. Children should not be used as propaganda and it was so clearly premeditated that it felt manipulative and not in the child’s best interest. Do not get me wrong, it is great to bring children to protests, but to use them is exploitive.

Another person asked me what his sign said, since many were in Arabic. (Sorry for those I am about to offend, please skip if you do not like abrasive, sarcastic profanity) I think it says, “Handjobs, 5 dollars!” This got a good laugh, but looking around seeing most of the signs in Arabic with rainbow colors in English speaking hands felt contrived. Nothing was spoken at the wall, except for the chatter of reporters and their subjects. The one request of me, I turned down. Upon getting back on the bus, one rabbi must have felt similarly as she said sarcastically, “Well, now that we did this I can feel good again. On with our day.” A person responded by telling her it was too early for cynicism, where I replied with yes, unless you have 2 sugars with that cup of cynicism.

We made it back for me to moderate the panel where none of the speakers new ahead of time they were speaking.

* Women in Black is an international peace network. Women in Black is not an organization, but a means of mobilization and a formula for action. Women in Black vigils were started in Israel in 1988 by women protesting against Israel’s Occupation of the West Bank and Gaza. Women in Black has developed in countries such as Italy, Spain, Germany, England, Azerbaijan, Colombia, and in FR Yugoslavia, where women in Belgrade have stood in weekly vigils since 1991 to protest war and the Serbian regime’s policies of nationalist aggression. Women in Black groups have formed in many cities in the United States since September 11th. Women in Black New York have been holding vigils in solidarity with our sisters throughout the world since 1993.

** Women for Israel's Tomorrow (Women in Green) is a rapidly growing grassroots women's movement -- grandmothers, mothers, wives, and daughters; housewives and professionals; secular and religious -- all bound together by a shared love, devotion and concern for Israel. We are not affiliated with, nor do we support, any particular political party. We have chapters throughout Israel and abroad, including Los Angeles, New York, Chicago and Toronto. We also have many men among our supporters.
In existence only since late 1993, the Women for Israel's Tomorrow, a registered non-profit organization, has accomplished a great deal. In addition to weekly street theater and public demonstrations, we write weekly articles, commission posters, advertise in newspapers, and lecture to groups in order to educate the electorate on the consequences of certain government policies, such as abandoning the Golan Heights for an illusory promise of peace, and pandering to Arafat, without requiring him to live up to his obligations under the Oslo Accords. We insist that Israel remain a Jewish state. We are actively and intimately connected with the fight to preserve a united Jerusalem. We support and encourage the brave Jewish community in the ancient city of Hebron, and sponsor annual Hanukkah and Purim parties with gifts and professional entertainment for the isolated Jewish children in that community.
Our movement is dedicated to the security and Jewish heritage of historic Israel, and we are outspoken in support of our cause. We are popularly known as the "Women in Green" because of the green hats we wear.
A leading Hebrew newspaper, Maariv, has described us as "the most authentic and exciting popular resistance movement to have arisen here (in Israel) in the last few years".
*** Ir-AmimIr Amim (“City of Nations” or “City of peoples”) was founded in order to actively engage in those issues impacting on Israeli–Palestinian relations in Jerusalem, and on the political future of the city. Ir Amim seeks to render Jerusalem a more viable city even under the dire current circumstances, while generating and promoting a more politically sustainable Jerusalem in the future.Ir Amim is a professionally driven organization, unaffiliated with any political party or institution. It is comprised of professionals and lay activists -- attorneys, planners, architects, educators, social scientists and concerned citizens -- who are devoted to “Jerusalem on a human scale.” That is, to a city shared by two collectives, Israeli and Palestinian, not only in the future, but today.Ir-Amim works in three directions in the service of these goals:
·
Exposing the complexities of East Jerusalem to various publics – including through study tours of the area for Knesset members, senior government officials, journalists, the general public and diplomatic missions.
·
Preventing the creation of unilateral “facts on the ground,” that will prevent future prospects for achieving settlements on the status of Jerusalem.
·
Strengthening civil society organizations in East Jerusalem -- toward a more workable and equitable city.

The GLBT Faces of Interfaith

Tonight’s opening panel was for the Interfaith part of WorldPride was attended by 200 people. Many of them I recognized from NYC when I was an intern at GLBT synagogue in NY, CBST or from Philly.

Rabbi Sharon Kleinbaum- the rabbi of CBST

Bishop Zachary Jones- A Unity Church bishop from NYC

Rev. Pat Bumgardner- An MCC minister in NYC

Irshad Manji- A muslim dissident, journalist

These were the speakers who spoke profoundly and charismatically about transforming the world as queer and rejecting the hatred that the people of faith, especially the vitriol that has been spewed by Jerusalem’s most conservative leaders. There was talk about the God of Love. Sharon welcomed us and remarked on the courage and the power of the moment. Zachary spoke about being pure of heart. Pat strongly invited us to take on a larger civil rights platform and gave a different and loving reading of the gospel. Irshad entertained with family stories and with the ability to engage the “detractors” in having conversations. While the wind was chilly, their words were fiery with intensity. It was an open air queer revival! Can I get an AMEN?

It was a good start. Looking at the calendar of events for tomorrow, I see that I am moderating a panel that I was not aware of only to find out that the participants also were not aware of either. Odd! It is about creative and renewing liturgy for queer folks.

Good night folks.

Rabbis For Human Rights/There is no place like home

Happy are they who maintain justice, and do righteousness at all times."Tehillim / Psalms 106 I

woke up early this morning to go to the WorldPride convocation on Human rights. This morning’s key note address was by the New Israel Fund where they addressed their platforms as you will see below. Following the speech, which did the job but was very general, there were buses to take people to different projects based on their core areas.

Founded in 1979, the New Israel Fund advances civil rights and social justice for all Israelis, and believes the only secure Israel is a just Israel. An international partnership of Israelis, Americans, Canadians and Europeans, NIF pioneered the funding of Israel's social change organizations and advocacy groups, and is widely credited with transforming the social justice and human rights communities in Israel. With grants and technical assistance to hundreds of nonprofits, NIF is in the vanguard of fighting for social change in Israel.

NIF grantees work in three core areas:

Civil and Human Rights : Flagship NIF grantees such as B'Tselem and the Association for Civil Rights in Israel have won court battles on issues ranging from the prohibition of torture in civilian interrogations to changes in the route of the separation fence to respect humanitarian concerns. Other grantees work on issues ranging from evenhanded urban planning and land sales to women's and minority rights.

Social and Economic Justice: As a nation with many disadvantaged minority groups, from citizen Arabs to Ethiopians to Mizrachim, Israel has a special responsibility to observe its founders' vision and values of "freedom, justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel." Racism, injustice and extremism defile Jewish values and threaten Israel's long-term security.

Religious Pluralism and Tolerance : NIF has long been a principal supporter of a pluralistic and tolerant Israeli culture that includes diverse approaches to Judaism and Jewish identity. NIF grantees are in the forefront of the struggle for civil marriage and other life-cycle events, recognition of non-Orthodox conversions and the equal and unbiased allocation of government resources.

I chose an option not on the list with my two other pilgrims Dawn and Leanne. We went to the offices of Rabbis for Human Rights with 20 other queer folk.

Rabbis for Human Rights is the rabbinic voice of conscience in Israel, giving voice to the Jewish tradition of human rights. They promote justice and freedom, while campaigning against discrimination and inhumane conduct.

There we listened to Conservative Rabbi and Israeli citizen Idit Lev speak about the several projects including monitoring Israel’s new program ending welfare. She was very inspiring and a real hero in the civil rights struggle for Israeli citizens. After we did some text study, we piled on a minibus and headed to East Jerusalem with founder Arik Asherman to the neighborhood of Issawiya, adjacent to the Hadassah Hospital on Mt. Scopus. There we spoke about the housing demolitions that happen in E. Jerusalem.

I had read in B’tzelem an Israeli Human Rights organization that the demolitions in EJ are usually not due to terrorist activity, but just due to not having proper permits for building. Rabbi Arik Ascherman who accompanied us explained why so many homes (almost the entire neighborhood) are built without permits. He explained how there are no master city plans for E Jerusalem that have been finalized. In 2000, the city of Jerusalem agreed to finalize plans so that it will demonstrate what can be built where. Essentially no building permits are being issued to people of Arab descent. Though the housing needs are great. Though there is not enough speace here, it seemed to be a challenging mix of deliberate discrimination (in order to keep the Arab population lower than the Jewish population) and inefficient bureaucracy.

We passed by many demolished homes. However, the hit homes really hit home when we met with the Dari family in there new home. Rabbi Ascherman and Ahmed Dari explained about the destruction of their first homes. Arik described the wailing and his attempt to block the bulldozers until he was arrested. They described the trauma that the family faced especially the children, bed wetting, insomnia, panic attacks, PTSD. RHR built them their new house with a delegation of N. American Rabbis but now it is listed to be demolished again. Many people in the group cried as they heard the story and the difficulty to get by for the Palestinian residents of Jerusalem.

On the way back, Arik spoke about how the demolitions fuel hate, terribly so. Children say that they want to retaliate and this seed gets planted in their mind early. It is his belief that it is in Israel’s best survival interests to build more of these partnerships and to show the Palestinians a different Jewish experience, one that rebuilds and does not destroy. Something to mull over. He was clear to state this position even in the framework of the Hezbollah war.Following a long conversation with Leanne back to the room changed and went for a long run.

Then it was time for the Interfaith WorldPride Convocation at Hebrew Union College Jerusalem—the Reform Movement’s seminary in Israel.

Renewal in the Desert-Water water everywhere

Yesterday’s trek in the desert was a welcome respite from the trials of the conflicts. As we have heard time in and time out, life in Israel is about holding contradictions and living daily without any easy answers. Already after a week, I feel the toll of that kind of living—for a citizen of Israel it is a powerful and improbable long term reality, not to mention for the average Palestinian. Living with the question of your survival on a daily basis over a long period of time leaves its mark.

No wonder Israeli’s love the desert. As an aside, when we went and visited Kolot. Moti, the Orthodox rabbi who teaches Talmud to Israel’s secular elite, and runs a Secular/religious teenage dialogue amongst other thing spoke to us about the power of the desert as a spiritual metaphor. The desert was the place where the Jews had the ability to lose the shackles of slavery and reinvent themselves. He notes while they had 40 years, Jews who suffered during the Holocaust only had 3 years before inheriting a homeland. While he recognizes it wouldn’t have been good to wait 40 years he believes a vital process didn’t occur and that we need to construct metaphorical “desert” experiences.

Tuesday morning, we made our way to a monastery built into a side of the cliff. It was quite a strenuous though reasonably short hike down to the entrance. It was an extraordinary looking structure. It overlooked this wonderful man made oasis. I did not bring my long pants so I missed the tour which was led by a Palestinian Christian who everyone assured me was gay. He was studying to be a nurse.

On the outside, I davened/prayed as I looked out over the cliff with birds flying in and out of the trees that had white moths orbiting them like mobiles. Way above me, at an absurd angle, the goats grazed making me wonder if they had suction cups on their hooves. After finishing, I sat in solitude allowing my head to clear.

From there we went to Qumran and learned about the history of the Dead Sea Scrolls. History once thought that it was an ascetic, religious community called the Essenes who lived there, but now others wonder if it was a large pottery collective because of the multiple ovens and clay pots. The scrolls were found throughout the cliffs in the desert.

We then had the joy of going to Ayn Gedi which was the lush waterfalls and pools that inspired the Song of Songs. We discussed this shared text after a brief hike. The discussion was followed by 3 of us wading under the water falls. It felt wonderfully refreshing.

Though not as refreshing as the mud at the Dead Sea. Being the grown ups that we are, we joined in a mild clergy mud fight. Once we were covered we walked to the sea, making one colleague a fin for her hair so that she looked like the Creature of the Black Lagoon.

Then we had dinner at Genesis Land. We hopped up on camels that took us to Abraham’s tent where a South African man spoke to us as if he were Abraham. We sat on cushions around tables around the ground. Some stayed the night in the desert and others of us made our way back to Jerusalem in order to tour a home and meet a Muslim family whose house was demolished in E. Jerusalem –and not for terrorist activities. The tour was led by rabbis for human rights.
To be continued….

Pain on both sides

Today I went to Yad Vashem and then an extensive tour of the security wall. It was a day filled with pain layered with complexity. It is late and I have to be up very early. As I am going to the desert for the night tomorrow I will not be able to blog for a day or so. So please know that I am fine even though there won’t be a posting tomorrow.

This will also let an intense day reside within me. Though I need to emphasize how quickly and deep this group is able to go with each other. Perhaps it is because we are gay and lesbian folks that we developed some trust with each other more quickly. We are also quite sophisticated in our abilities to hold contrary, conflicting and competing narratives

Pat Baumgarten (sp?) is also here, the head minister at MCC NYC (a Gay Christian Community). She invited the Christians to a service she was leading. Only Joseph decided to go so I joined him, which was a good thing because it was only Pat, her congregant and student Gail, Joseph and me. They included me in such a wonderful and warm way. Since no one sang, I offered up the Shalom chant which we did in the service and they asked me to do communion in a way that I could participate –which I said was just blessing the bread and wine the way I would for Shabbat—and that was enough. We offered prayers for peace and justice. Also the Hebrew Bible reading she chose was from Esther. The piece where Mordechai challenges Esther to use her position for justice to advocate for the plight of the Jews.

I could not help but think of God’s seeming absence being brought down through human action, which is need here and how being privileged is not the issue. All of us as Americans here on this trip recognize how privileged we are—the issue is how we use that privilege. Do we advocate for others? Do we find ways to share that privilege?

Those are the questions I leave for you this evening.

Shushan

Sundays it is good to be a Jew. It was our turn to sleep in as our fellow Christians went off to church. I had intended to join them, but when the guys decided to go out to Jerusalem’s one gay bar it was destined to be a late night. Shushan, the famed city of the Purim story was the name of the bar, and there were a handful of Esthers and Vashtis there. Including one stunning drag queen whose best number was Tina Turner’s “You’re simply the best.

It was good for us to hang out with each other away from the intense conversations of land and possession, power and corruption, gay and liberation/oppression. I had been suggesting that we needed to do some karaoke or some other playful kind of activity to bond in a different way. However, I often have difficulty in making that switch and I found myself in an intense conversation with Steve Greenberg about the nature of gay and lesbian synagogues. It was good.

It is easy to understand why people would follow Steve. He is a charismatic, sharp man who deeply cares about important matters. And while I don’t see eye to eye with everything, I appreciate and admire his ability to articulate and present challenging concepts in a clear and relatively concise manner. His counterbalance is my former teacher Dawn Rose, who offers an important worldview and brings a feminist critique to our conversations. Her partner, Marla, a friend from a long time ago, pulled me aside earlier in the evening to say she has heard I am surprisingly silent.

Silent—I wouldn’t go that far, but I am drinking in and am being a committed listener. I also realize that I don’t want to be defensive about positions and beliefs. After my run yesterday, we went to a park that overlooked the Old City. The light of Shabbat was leaking from the sky, the breeze danced around us and it was a stunning way to begin the evening.

The Christians shared about their trip to Bethlehem. The highlight for them was not the Church of the Nativity, but rather a meeting with a Palestinian Christian activist, who helped bring them a balanced (odd word to use—because very few people are balanced) perspective. Balance here, I suppose means both sides. The question remains which way the balance tips after integrating the information.

We listened to their accounts and all along the way; there were breaks to clarify things from the Israeli perspective as I remained silent. I knew that this looked like or simply was defensiveness. In a gentle way, the professional pastoral counselor asked the question, “What was behind the defensiveness?” After that conversation moved, the other question was raised “What is the Jewish theological claim to Israel?”

Dawn and Steve presented different poles of theological claims to the land. Summed up Steve talked about the ability for a state to be run by Jewish values and law mediated by democracy—a scary proposition for some—whose Torah and interpretation must be addressed. Dawn’s perspective was less clear and didn’t proffer up a theological perspective in a classical sense, but in a feminist sense, she spoke about living in the current moment and doing what is right. She also spoke of the necessity of a state for survival.

This was largely questioned by the Christians. Couldn’t you exist without a state? What is essential to a state? Aren’t Jews safer around the world more than they are in Israel?

These questions were asked not in hostility, but in a genuine desire to learn and to figure out ways to be supportive when the comparison to them between Israel and the West bank was shocking.

I asked to present a theological argument later—which for me is a Reconstructionist view. Judaism as a civilization should be able to have a container other than landlessness and Diaspora to develop. Jewish art, music, language, ritual, prayer, calendar, cuisine flourishes uniquely in a land of which its origins are inextricably linked. The relationship to land has been expressed in so many ways and in Israel it is able to be given a reunited form. For me the evolution of a civilization is theological. Inherent in this is that the religious civilizational values of justice, fairness to the stranger, working for the needs of the other must be part of the picture.

Let’s not forget that Christianity, Islam, and many other faiths have been given the opportunity in an unbroken form to live and inform and even legislate in countries where their cultural expressions have been allowed to thrive. Just because good Christians feel guilty about their abuses of power does not mean that they should project this on to the Jews and feel that this is there way to undo the harm that Christianity has caused. I admire speaking out for injustice, but it always so much easier to point to another community’s foibles than one’s own.

On the other hand, we as Jews MUST speak out about our corruption of power and commit ourselves to a full honoring and knowing of the other. The argument “you did it—so we can” will never hold water. A noncontiguous state that doesn’t have port access will never be a real state (Gaza and West Bank) and a community that vows to demolish Israel will never be given the trust to allow that to happen. The Arab countries that exploit the Palestinians and this situation undermine the Palestinian’s people autonomy and the right wing American Jews who act in purely nationalistic ways betray Jewish values only heighten Israel’s precarious existence in the world.

My head hurts again. My heart hurts. This situation is layers upon layers that like an intricate chess game depends on complex moves from the other side to go forward. I have been wrestling with this question. We as Jews and as Americans are willing to die for war, but to what degree are we willing to die for peace? What would that look like?

After this conversation in the park, we made our way back to the hotel briefly for Havdallah and then headed to Timol Shilshom café owned by queer author David Erlich who used to be a part of Bet Haverim. He is doing well and sends his regards. We met with WorldPride folks who were very hospitable –Worldpride activities begin tonight. And then we met with young women from a new organization called Bat Kol (a heavenly voice…literally the voice of the daughter) for orthodox lesbians. These young women were brave and extraordinary. Very refreshing, but still another heavy evening. So you can see why I went to Shushan and had a vodka tonic!

I am on my way now to Yad VaShem, the Israeli Holocaust memorial.

Renewing Shabbat/Running Shabbat

We split up for Shabbat. Half the group went to a modern Orthodox synagogue with a twist: Shira Hadasha has a mechitza but sometimes the leader is a woman and she leads on her side and sometimes it is a man and he leads on his side. Usually, the service is split so both sides have some direct experience with the person leading services. I have been there before (usually I don’t go to places with a mechitza) and it is a quite lovely service.

However, this time I went with the UCC minister from Concord NH, Leanne and Joseph the progressive Pentecostal minister from Harlem to a place called the Kagin’s. The Kagin’s it turns out is a personal home where Ruth Kagin lives. She is a Jewish renewal rabbi who leads a Shabbat service in her home and generally Christians and Muslims join. She led in Hebrew and English and had a guitar accompany her. It was a ruach/spirit filled service and Joseph was really surprised at how Pentecostal it felt.

People brought their own tambourines and drums and it was a very moving service. I was excited to welcome in the Jewish Sabbath after walking the Villa Delorosa. It was comforting and familiar. The themes of the service were softness and humility. At a time where I am being mindful of opening my heart and listening to the other, witnessing the challenge of a country at war and listening to people who advocate for peace and those who seek to wipe out Hezbollah—humility is a good quality to cultivate.

I just came back from a Shabbat run in a nearby park. It was such a nice afternoon. When I returned, the hotel was packed with kids running around. In the lobby there was a large Druze community that has been relocated from the North. Also, many other Jews from Haifa are here in the hotel alongside and inordinate number of French Jews. I cannot tell you the disdainful looks I received entering the hotel in running shorts and a sleeveless shirt. Though I wasn’t breaking Shabbat, I might have just as well been flinging bacon across the room. After waiting for the Shabbat elevator which runs continually, enduring the harsh looks, I went to my room. There I discovered my key no longer worked! I had to go back down and endure looks from adults and children alike who were camped out throughout the stairwells the entire way down. If it wasn’t so funny, I would have been really annoyed.

Holy Land Batman!

I awoke today with a strange feeling and I couldn’t put my feeling on it. Homesickness is the closest I can come to naming it. I think there has been so much conversation, so many important meetings and sites to visit that my head hurts and I long to be around the familiar. I realized that even with this blog I had shifted from experiencing and feeling to “reporting”. It has just been so much and because I don’t know any one person well, much of my processing has been internal.

Yesterday, we walked the Villa Delorosa, the stations of the cross, in the Old City led in a ritual procession by the Franciscan Monks who had their frocks on and who began with a microphone that didn’t work. This brought out the control queens in many of them so there was this scramble to make it work and then different ones asserting their authority and finally one older one who yells across the way “I can’t hear you!” Though it was to be solemn, I couldn’t help but see the humor of this theater production. I alternated thoughts between why aren’t other people seeing the exploitable humor in this and why am I so irreverent. Another question emerged, “Is this what Jesus wanted for Christians to do?” And then another “How does taking religion, ritual seriously make for spirituality and meaningfulness to emerge and how does it restrict and its rigidity cause it lose its original intent.”

Once we were on our way, the latin chanting and the reading of each station was interesting. This was certainly the most informative walking the stations I have ever done. But once again, I felt how brittle the relationships are—half of the stations are in the Arab quarter. One of the monks hushed an Arab teenager, who from the sound of his voice hurled curse words in response. The market places were full and people bombarded the procession with postcards and such. Wafts of strong smelling herbs, which later my colleagues affirmed was pot, swept through many parts of the procession. Again, life continues even in the face of sacred space and time. The bustle and the imposition that we made upon the Arabs in their quarter was only blunted by the fact that some of the 5 dozen people actually bought things. Necessity. So there we were in the intersection of 3 major religions: Christianity, Islam and Capitalism.

We finished at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre where I refrained from visiting the tomb. At the second to last station one of the readings included the phrase “Fear of the Jews”. My impulse to make a loud noise and say something scary passed, and then I seriously wondered how in this moment around Israel people are scared of the Jews—apparently even Mel Gibson. It seemed a dangerous message, even irresponsible for those who do not understand the context of the phrase back then.

We had a discussion on the roof top. The Christians had a fascinating conversation about the power or lack thereof of the procession. I shared with them my thoughts about irreverence and they had brought up the challenge of the phrase fear of the Jews earlier. Where it was a discussion of what was in the Greek and what did it really mean as a way to confirm the challenge of using it today. From there we went to Shabbat services…

More to come…

Mount Olives

The day started on the top of Mount Olives with a stunning view of beautiful Jerusalem. We arrived and SkyNews, a Robert Murdoch production was broadcasting a news piece about the crisis up north. Not only was the view intriguing but so was the immediate surroundings. All in eye’s view were a group of Japanese tourists, African tourists, Hasidim with their fur streimels in the heat and the local Arabs with postcards or camels.
We made our way down the Palm Sunday road which is a steep incline to Dominus Flaevit, the place where Jesus wept over Jerusalem. Adjacent to the church was an ancient Jewish burial site into a cave with shaft graves. Then we walked down to the gardens of Gethsemane or Gat Shmenim/ The Olive Press. Gethsemane holds an important place in the Gospel story, since Jesus spent there the night before his arrest, after eating the Last Supper with his disciples.
In the gardens are olive trees, that are old and wonderfully gnarled and according to legend existed back when Jesus was pesent. On the site is the Church of All Nations was built by the Italian architect Antonio Barluzzi. The name commemorates the contributions made by many countries to its construction. I was pleasantly surprised by the color scheme and the geometiric stained glass windows in purple and pink creating crosses.
When we left, the Juma prayer was beginning at the same time church bells were ringing and you could hear mass. It was a powerful conjunction that varied between sounding like spiritual noise pollution and spiritual braiding.
On Friday’s security increases due to Muslim prayer required in the Mosque. At the base of the hill there were a dozen soldiers all eating popsicles and holding their guns. It was hard not to see them as little boys, especially one man who was enjoying his popsicle so much. It is hard to see mere boys in uniforms.

To be continued…

Fasting the Slow Way

Despite breaking the fast tonight, my head is still throbbing. This entry will be brief, but it was an incredible day with rich learning.

The day was off to a bad start. My wake up call never came so we were a bit late for our first appointment, never a good feeling but everyone was a good sport about it. We studied with a brilliant woman named Melila Helfman who has a Phd is Zohar/Jewish mystical texts. She brought rabbinic texts (her minor) to look at how the rabbinic community transformed the notion of God after the destruction of the Temple. She was delightful and we were all really engaged. She noted how progressive Jews have a very hard time mourning on Tisha B’av and that perhaps all ritual emotional expression becomes challenging and muted. An interesting point to think about.

Afterwards we met with the director of Kolot, a project that brings secular and orthodox Jews together to study texts. He has been running a very successful for high school students as well. Moti, the founder, also worked with the ultra orthodox community during the disengagement. His commitment to the issues is based on Israel’s security. He believes that an even larger threat to Israel’s wellbeing than the current crisis is the divide between secular and religious. He showed a video of the soldiers and the settlers in Gaza that was profoundly heartbreaking and powerful.

Lastly we went to Tantur and spoke with Sister Bridgette. Tantur is an ecumenical Christian retreat center with amazing views of the city. While people ate lunch their, I went to the meditation room and sat in silent meditation followed by afternoon prayer. Sister Bridgette gave a stirring lecture that was half theology and half personal narrative about how to engage with the other. The group eagerly discussed these issues.

It was good to fast today. With all the learning it was easy to be distracted from the hunger. It was more the parched feeling that was a reminder of the parched nature of our world. I am reminded that after destruction is rebuilding. It would be nice to get on to that. 600 missiless fell on Israel, they waited for Tisha B’Av to return to the bombing. Sigh.

We just finished a good dinner and will be up early for a theological tour on the Mount of Olives.

Over dinner, I listened to the story of how Joseph started his ministry and church. He grew up in Harlem and has stayed there. His tradition was Pentecostal and he has worked to find a way to embrace Pentecostal principals with New Thought-esque theology. He is quite charming and I would love to visit his church.

I also cornered the Gay priest, who is out and confounds his community and asked him about his role in the Church. Without divulging too much that is private, I greatly admire his integrity. He has a great sense of humor and is the one who feels comfortable being a bit on the bawdy side.

Tisha B'Av

Today we began at the City of the David and make our way through historical ruins of the Old City. It was my first time walking through the water tunnels under the city of David to the pools of Shiloach, also known as Siloam. This was a bit like spelunking with 6inches to a foot and a half of water flowing. It was intense walking this in the dark. Two people ahead of me had a flashlight and a person behind me so I it was a faith walk. Several of us sang spirituals and Hebrew songs on our hike in the tunnels.

Today’s discussions revolved of claims to the land and the Temple mound. We all felt a bit tense after seeing a new movie that provided a revisionist history of King David and the claim to the land of Israel through him. It seemed as if he were trying to connect intellectually and historically instead of people on a spiritual journey together.

We had a powerful service at the progressive synagogue, Kol Haneshama observing Tisha B’Av. First we spoke with Rabbi Levi Kellman who founded the synagogue in his living room. He shared a painful story where one orthodox rabbi saw women dancing with a Torah from the window and he brought other folks to confront this progressive community. Ironically, the confrontation received a great deal of press, which helped the community’s membership. Now it is a thriving community.

They chanted Aicha/Lamentations with its unique mournful trope and interspersed between the chapters were modern Israeli poets and niggunim/Jewish melodies. The lights were out and people read the text with flashlights and candles. The klutz I am kicked a plate of candles and scalded my foot with hot wax at the end of the service. It still burns.

We closed the evening with an earnest discussion of what people thought of the service. Many people explored the connection of the destruction of the temple and exile, to their gay experience. We did this at a place where there is a beautiful view of the temple mound. We sat on picnic blankets and talked for an hour and then hiked 45 mins home. I fast for Tisha B’Av until tomorrow night.

By the way, Jerusalem is amazing at peace and calm. We walked through the city and felt like things are normal. It has been wonderful to be here.

Ascent, assent, and descent--It's all decent

It is quiet and still even with the window open. I am up at 3:30 and armed with only 3 hours of sleep. This happened on my last trip. I could take an ambien, but I prefer for the natural rhythms to resume. The hotel was teeming with Israeli children, most of them orthodox who well until midnight were running around causing all sorts of mischief and making noise in the hallways. Many of them were carrying Israeli flags; their had been a rally earlier in the day.
The van driver, who said his name too quickly for me to be sure whether it really is Jon or not picked me up at the airport. I moved quickly through passport control, baggage claim and customs to a crowd of Israelis totally blocking our exit. A joyful reunion with a young man and his girlfriend was accentuated by the bouncing balloon that he had brought her. What a great guy the van driver was. He began to talk to me about the conflict and his time in the army during the 90s up north. We determined that he was stationed close to the kibbutz that Hebrew U had arranged for us to stay for a night where we were ushered into the bomb shelter for an hour. We could hear small missile hitting their targets into the night.
As he spoke of the rally in Jerusalem, he explained how meaningful it was for tourists to be in Israel at this time. He couldn’t blame people for not coming and canceling trips (a large part of my group cancelled at the last minute including Transcendence, the Transgendered Gospel Choir) but those of who came lifted the hopes of the Israeli people and then he took his eyes off the road for a moment and looked at me and added, “in a deeply spiritual way, you know.”
Israelis will often dive into deep topics right away, especially if they sense they can trust you. We continued our conversation as he pointed out the building of a new train that will transport people from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv in 25-30 minutes rather than the 70-80 minutes the “inefficient train” that runs now. He confessed that he came from a strongly secular family and how frustrating it was for the ultra right religious folks to control so much of the country and explained how secular people go to Cypress to get married rather than deal with the embarrassing and naïve discussions Orthodox rabbis will have like explaining what sex will be like the first time, though both partners usually are far from being virgins. Though on the other hand, he reflected how challenging it is for progressive rabbis who come in and do “questionable” conversions for large groups of people just so they can come to Israel. I wondered if he was referring to the remaining Ethiopian Jewish community.
Upon asking about my life in Atlanta, I told him I was rabbi which elicited hearty laughter. “No disrespect, I think that is wonderful, but I still can’t get past rabbis without beards.” He told me about how he is beginning to study daf yomi/ a daily page of Talmud on the internet and looking for ways to connect to Judaism. When I asked where he lived, he began to tell me how he does not have a “family” yet. Still single, he expressed a bit of resignation though his mom had coached him to add a yet to the not instead of losing all hope. Instead he said he was married to his job.
“What about you?” I told him I was also single. “Ah, of course as a rabbi, you must be married to your job, too.” I was silent and let he whole conversation slide. Though at the end of the evening the topic came back up from a different source. Rabbi Steve Greenberg, asked me if I was single as well. When I said yes, a pain looked swept over his face as he sympathized how difficult it was. I smiled and said, “It is less so now.” But his anguish on my behalf did touch a place that still exists. He looked at me and said “With everything you do, it is too much to bear alone.” “I have some great friends; I live with someone who is like my brother.” He shook his head in dissent saying it is different. I agreed but said, “for now, I am focusing on what I have not on what I don’t.”
The evening did not begin so heavily. I met my group, a gay Catholic priest Londoner, a lesbian UCC minister in New Hampshire, a former teacher of mine with whom I studied Modern Thought, Feminist Hermeneutics, and Sexual Ethics, a Latino Theologian, a straight Jewish woman with a PhD in Rabbinic Judaism/Early Christianity, a gay orthodox rabbi/author and our guide who is a Jewish text teacher and historian. There is still one more to join us. Over dinner we shared a little about or paths and our expectations of the pilgrimage. I am with some incredibly bright people. Dinner was al fresco overlooking the old city. My red tuna encrusted with sesame seed and pomegranate was scrumptious. (Would this be a Jewish blog without any mention of food?)
For a group that has just met we were laughing and trading stories. We ended the evening by answering the question: “Is gay community one of descent or assent? Communities of descent are characterized either by blood lines, embodiment or intrinsic aspects of people but not bound by a common belief system or behavior whereas assent is a community that comes together with common ground, values and beliefs. What do you think?

More to come….

Safe and Saved

I have arrived safely. The bombings has ceased over the last 2 days according to the van driver. I had a wonderful dinner with some very lovely people. Right now I am on wireless in the middle of Ben Yehuda street. When I have more time and am less sleepy I will fill you in on what a great evening it has been.

Taking Flight with/from Orthodox Jews and Fundamentalist Christians

There is a tense feeling at the gate. Pinched faces with stern looks. Children who are laughing are quieted. CNN commands rapt attention with Anderson Cooper talking about Qana and the Rice’s leave. Only a handful of orthodox Jews are at the gate. There is an adorable 2 year old boy whose tzitzit/ fringe almost touch the ground. The plane is half full – see I am an optimist.

Before I board, I spark up a conversation with an older woman and a man I assume is her son. She is holding a Christian bible in her hands. “We are going to Israel for a wedding. My granddaughter is getting married.” I congratulate her and ask her where it will be. I did not expect her to say “Ramallah”. Upon further questioning, she explains that her daughter was called to spread the word of Jesus to the Arabs in the West Bank and has lived there. She met an attorney and they are getting married in a Catholic church (I thought I detected some disappointment) in Ramallah. It was their first trip to Israel; they were going to tour Israel but due to the conflict are just staying for the wedding and heading immediately home.



I fell asleep in no time and slept for a good 6 hours with a whole row to myself. There is nothing like intense conversation 2 minutes after rousing. Parched, I went to the back of the plane to get some water. There were cups of water in a holder, which I reached when an affable flight attendant, bombarded me with what felt like a 100 choices. “Would you like something to eat? Banana? Granola bar? Muffin? Yogurt? You’re Jewish, we have a kosher meal as well. Actually the snacks are kosher too.”

My eyes were slits still puffy from sleep. I mumbled, “Just woke up. This water is all I need.” A sprite-ish woman with silver hair, twinkling eyes and a big smile said, “Boker Tov!” “Boker or” (Good morning). It was 1:20 pm in Israel. Drinking two glasses of cool water, I felt more alive. The back area had about 5 people. One of the flight attendants asked me if I was going home or on a trip. The woman whom I would soon know as Tzippe who lived on a moshav near Jerusalem, asked me where I lived. Upon telling her, she asked which neighborhood. “Inman Park.” “Oh that’s where my sister and brother-in-law live. I bet you know them. Glenda and David.” I joined her in saying their last name, “Minkin”

In front of all the flight attendants Tzippe asks the purpose of my trip. I explain an interfaith group. One of the flight attendant inquires about this and I speak in the broadest of strokes. When someone comes back for a moment, I say to Tzippe, “I am going with an interfaith group of GLBT ministers and rabbis to WorldPride.” “Not that business! Ahh… I see, you and my sister are on the same page. You must know her because of her work with The Quilt”

She explains that she believes the Torah is the literal word of God and that what is forbidden is forbidden. She rattles off the chapters and verse of Leviticus and Deuteronomy which hold the prohibitions. I smile and say, “ Don’t forget P’ru Orvu/Be fruitful and multiply, mitzvah #1. But if you want to text, let’s talk about how it guides in treating each other now that we see we disagree.”

With that she smiled and explained that she has gay friends, which I just pretend she didn’t just go there. We then began a conversation of legalism and the spirit of the law. There was mutual agreement there.Then a flight attendant joined the conversation which shifted to the conflict. Let’s just that we walked a fine line and found some room of agreement. Until Tzippe expressed that the Jews were treated poorly in the world consistently because we are the chosen people.

The flight attendant nodded in a agreement. She and Tzippe formed some solid ground around their belief in God’s literal word expressed in the Bible and in the necessity of Jews being seen as the chosen people, but unlike Tzippe I knew exactly where this was heading. They did not like the Reconstructionist view that choseness is an irrevelant divisive construct in the world. Nor did they agree with my call for all faiths to relinquish their triumphalism. “But you are the chosen people because He came to you and you rejected him therefore when we accepted Him as the Savior we were all made chosen.”

Just then the plane hit an air pocket, and a 1000 muffins fell on top of her bringing the conversation to an abrupt close. Not really, just in my mind.

She asked me if I had read the Bible yes. “The New Testament as well?” “Yes.” “And you deny all the references back to the Old Testament. You don’t the truth of the Savior.” All of this was said with a lovely smile and pure sincerity. These are the real moments of truth when everything can break down and a southern Jew who has put up with this question all my life can lose it or can persevere and break through. Tzippe must not have been following the question because she jumped in and said, “I love God, too. We both see the Bible as a book of Truth.” As if she was trying to build an alliance with this woman on the basis of mutual belief against my belief. I smiled at Tzippe and clarified, “She is referring to the New Testament.” Silence.

I explained to the Flight Attendant, who I learned was Pam that we interpret the passages that she believed to predict Jesus’ coming differently. Calm and present. She said, “I am glad we can disagree agreeably.” “Yes,” I nodded. “The world needs more of that.” “And we can agree to love our neighbor.” I concurred.

She asked if she would be welcome in my synagogue. I said, “Of course.” She asked me to give her my information and service times.” She had never been to one and would like to come check mine out.

I returned to my seat a little more tired. An orthodox Jew, a conservative Christian and me—It has been long day already and I have been only a wake for an hour.