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.