What does it mean to keep the Sabbath holy? Growing up, the only real difference between Sunday and any other day was going to church in the morning and a stop at Lafeens for donuts in the afternoon. In the Christian West, we don't really have time for a true day of rest. Our lives are so busy, we can't afford to miss out on a day of productivity.
In the Jewish tradition, resting on the Sabbath is a key theological practice, and we got to experience this first hand last Friday as we attended an Orthodox synagogue and Shabbat dinner with Jewish families. On Shabbat, beginning at sundown on Friday and ending at sundown on Saturday, observant Jews abstain from all forms of work. This includes things like driving a car, turning on a light switch, or writing down a phone number. While these things seem silly from task oriented, Western-centric worldview, I came away from our Shabbat experience with a new found appreciation for the spiritual reality behind these practices. By taking away the work and distractions of everyday life, God becomes the center focus of the day.
"The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. It is a day on which we are called upon to share in what is eternal in time, to turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation; from the world of creation to the creation of the world." -Abraham Joshua Heschel
Since it was an Orthodox synagogue, the men and women sat on separate sides. Our host families for the evening jokingly called their congregation a "baptist synagogue," for much of the service was taken up by boisterous singing and dancing on both sides of the divider. The whole service was in Hebrew, so we didn't know what was going on most of the time, but it was fun to people watch, hum along to the music, and watch the men especially jumping and dancing with fervor. Any expectations I had were completely thrown out the window with this exuberant display of joy in worshiping God coming in an "orthodox" synagogue.
We were then divided into groups of two to join a family for Shabbat dinner. This synagogue was in a largely Anglo neighborhood, so most of the families we joined were American or Western European ex-pats who spoke English. We all walked home with our families (since they couldn't drive), and began an evening filled with amazing food, thought provoking conversation, and a glimpse into the life of an orthodox Jewish family.
The family I joined was made up of the father, who was American, the mother, who was Canadian, and their two kids, an 18 year old daughter and 16 year old son. We were also joined by their friends, an orthodox Rabbi who's been serving a congregation in Japan for the last 10 years, and a Persian conservative feminist Jewish woman, who was a family law lawyer in New York for 12 years. We discussed every conversation topic imaginable; politics, religion, economics, theology, the military draft, immigration, the end times, the 2-state solution, coexistence, and racism.
One of the most interesting conversations of the night for me was with the 18 year old daughter. She graduated from high school in the spring, and is taking a gap year right now before she is drafted into the military in August. During her gap year, she is enrolled in a Jewish Studies program with other Orthodox girls. This group of girls will then become their own unit in the army in August. Programs such as these are a way to make the army easier for Orthodox girls, who face additional challenges in the army trying to maintain their religious identity and practices. Normally, Orthodox kids are exempt from army service because of this, an issue that was a diving factor in the recent Israeli elections. When I questioned her about this, she said that Orthodox kids are given the choice between military service or a national service alternative. She chose to do military service. She said it had been a tough decision, but in the end, three factors helped her make her decision. First, she's lived in an Anglo-Orthodox bubble all her life. Being in the army will give her the opportunity to interact with other elements of Israeli society that she's never gotten the chance to see and learn from before. Second, the army here is a common denominator. Since military service is mandatory after high school, all people in every walk of life have this shared experience. It is a topic later in life that all can relate to. She didn't want to miss out on this. Finally, she said that if her skill set was equally well suited to military service or national service, she would rather serve her country in the military. When she enlists, she will go into education, helping low income Israelis who never finished high school to get their G.E.D equivalent and teaching Hebrew to newly immigrated Jews. She was so passionate about her country, the military, and her opportunity to serve. It was a truly enlightening and humbling experience.
We've gotten a lot of personal interaction on the Palestinian side, but its been much harder to make these personal connections on the Jewish side. That's why Shabbat dinner was such a powerful experience for me, for it allowed me to put a face, a name, and a story to the Jewish/Israeli narrative we've been studying. It is easy to point a finger at the "other." It is much harder to but the blame on a real, living, breathing person, one who has hopes, dreams, and goals just like you. On both sides of this conflict, there are numerous individual stories of heart break and heroism. Both sides have suffered losses, and both sides have acted unjustly in certain instances. But the way forward is not through continued demonization and "us" vs. "them" mentalities. The way forward is through simple interactions like we had on Friday night; sitting down with real people, sharing a meal, swapping stories, and really digging into the hard issues. Progress will come not from policy, but from understanding and the humanization of the "other."
