ON TURNING INTO MY FATHER

So anyway, I called around until I found a couple of numbers for Messianic Jewish congregations. Most of the information I found was outdated, and most of the telephone numbers had strange messages, but I finally contacted one that meets fortnightly, and arranged to meet the rabbi and a couple of other people for coffee prior to an Erev Shabbat service, and then to go on to the service.

(A short time later I got a call from one that meets weekly, and I will probably go there next week. But I digress. Like that's something new.)

Friday afternoon came along, and it was a miserable day with rain and horribleness.
(Digression #2: I went over to Matthew's to pick up a box to take home, and ended up having tea instead and asking Matthew if he'd just hug me and tell me everything would be okay while I cried, and he did, and you know, somehow that made all of the horribleness go away. In case I haven't mentioned it lately, Matthew is the Very Best Ever. I have tried not to talk too much about him because people get irritated when you wax poetic about people you love. But I know that the hard times we've had aren't any more his fault than they are mine, and he has made so many things more bearable, and I love him a lot.

Oh, wait--I keep getting accused of engaging in hyperbole. Matthew is the Second Best Ever.)

So I left Matthew's and caught a train way out to the middle of nowhere, and met this rabbi at the station. He is an Irish rugby fan, and he was holding a jersey, and I swear he looked just like a little leprechaun.

His wife and a few students (in addition to being a rabbi, he's a theology professor at the University of London) showed up, and we wandered over to the coffee shop, and it was a very strange time because one of the students was sort of a goyish tourist who kept saying things that were a hair's-breadth away from "I've never seen a Jew before. What's it like? You know, being a Jew?"

The rest of the time was taken up in the kind of talk I haven't really heard in a long time--a really superficial kind of ChristianSpeak that seemed so foreign to me, and yet something that I remember.

Anyway, we walked to the place where the congregation meets, and it was an absolutely beautiful walk. At one point, we turned into a narrow alley, and after a while this alley opened into an incredibly beautiful kind of courtyard which had a garden and an old church and benches, and the petals from the blooming trees were falling like a pink and white snow, and the wind was blowing just enough, and it was incredible.

Eventually we got to the meeting place (I keep wanting to type 'synagogue,' but they actually meet in this old church called The Vineyard) and I was greeted by a couple of very nice-seeming people, including some little old ladies.

The Goyish Tourist sat next to me and asked what it was that I usually look for in a congregation. She said that when she is looking for a new church, there is a list of things that she looks for--she wants them to sing a couple of these particular songs, and she wants them to allow people who suddenly have something they want to share to be able to interrupt the service and do so, and a few other things. I told her that I was mostly concerned about the teaching--that I wanted the rabbi to expand on something from the Torah and not just get up and talk about a few anecdotal things and mention that we should all be happy or something. Can't remember how I phrased it.

Anyway, the service started, and there was the candle-lighting, and things were a little strange right at first. I am used to people in Messianic congregations believing in Jesus, but I'm used to them calling him either Y'shua or Messiah, and generally kind of incorporating it into the Jewish liturgy. This was more like...a sort of Christianity Lite service in the beginning. We sang a couple of Easy Listening tunes. It was very odd.

The congregation was probably 50% older people, and then a representation of most other generations. Total of maybe 50 people.

They had a guest speaker that night, and so after the singing and a short prayer, he got up to talk. The man in question is some kind of Christian missionary-type person in Ethiopia. He talked about how Ethiopia is a primarily Christian nation, and how it's just assumed that everyone will grow up Christian. So my first bit of confusion was regarding why a nation that's primarily Christian would need Christian missionaries. I still don't quite understand it, but he did have many pictures of little black children and he talked about what a blessing it had been to take them aside and pray with them.

He told a bunch of anecdotes

It was horrible. I have never in my life been exposed to so much hate speech, and especially not disguised as a sermon.

His anecdotes included one about a bunch of men who were imprisoned in Saudi Arabia for printing and distributing bibles. He said that they were imprisoned and tortured, and they were told that if they denounced their faith, they would be freed, and they would be given $1 million. He said, "Muslims do that, you know."

He actually said that. He actually said "Muslims do that, you know."

And all around me were these people nodding and "Mmmm hmmm"ing and the occasional "yes, Lord"ing.

I was absolutely horrified.

Whenever he would talk about an Arab person, or a Palestinian, he would refer to them as "The Wicked."

I'm not talking about referring to the political leaders of some nation or other as wicked men. I would totally agree with him on that if he did. He was talking about everyone--every last person in those nations. He was talking about the women of RAWA who risk their lives fighting for women's rights in Afghanistan. He was talking about the random Palestinian on the street who just wants to walk to the grocery store and pick up milk and come back to his house and eat his breakfast in peace.

The thing that was so weird is that this guy isn't even Jewish. And he kept talking about what a blessing it was to one day see an Arab believer washing the feet of a Jewish one.

It was so warped. It was so awful.

He spent a lot of time talking about the current Israeli/Palestinian situation. A lot of time. Evidently he doesn't believe in the laws that call for the separation of religion and politics.

The bad thing was, (oh, what am I saying, it was all bad) this guy didn't sit down and outline any reasons that he believed anyone was wrong, or why what they were doing was bad. It was assumed. It was assumed that any Israeli action at all, under any circumstance, was good, because it was performed by Jews, and that any act of anyone else was bad.

He said that if Palestinians had any homeland at all, any peace would be temporary because Palestinians would force Israelis out. He didn't imply at all that this had something to do with the current Palestinian leadership--he referred to the Palestinians, as a group, NOT the PLO or the PA, but the whole lot of every Palestinian in the world--as The Wicked.

I sat there horrified, trying to figure out what to do. I figured if I stood up and walked out, that was the least I could do. But then, maybe I should wait around and see if there was an opportunity to speak. So I hung around, and eventually, after inviting us all to participate in a pro-Israeli-actions rally on May 6 in Trafalgar Square (I fear--I really fear that there will be bloodshed, and it will not be good) there was a time for prayer, in which everyone was supposed to take turns and they could pray or not pray as they so chose.

So after a quick consultation with God and an apology if what I was doing was wrong, it came my turn to pray, and I will print basically what I said here, even though I don't remember it word for word, but I was shaking and talking pretty quietly at the time.

I prayed, "Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu, Father God, please let us remember that even though it was your will for your son to die, those who were responsible for his death were responsible for murder, and you said that they would be punished for it. Even so, let us remember that even if the ends of what we do are your will, if we act contrary to your laws, or if we act out of hatred and prejudice, we are held responsible for going against your will. That there is no such thing as doing your will with hatred. There is no such thing as doing your will with prejudice. And if the innocent are injured, and their blood is on our hands, then we will be punished.

Let our actions be characterized by love. I know that there are no easy answers in the Middle East right now, but help us to look to you for guidance and to act in accordance with your laws, and without hatred, and without violence. Help us to remember that we will never save anyone at the end of a gun, but can only reach them if we talk to them. Ha shem Y'shua Ha Mashiach, etc. Amein."

These people were ready to stone me. At least five people prayed after me and asked for God to give sight to the blind fools who believed the media bias. After a while, I got up quietly and walked out.

The thing is, I don't think that Arafat is such a nice guy. I don't like him or trust him any more than anyone else does. I fully believe that the Palestinian Authority is untrustworthy, mostly because I find it appalling that the funds that have been handed to them for distribution to those in need have ended up going toward weaponry and fancy cars for leaders in the PA. Yes, it's well-documented, and I wouldn't have a problem with someone pointing that out as a reason to not trust the PA.

But bulldozing residential neighborhoods? With tanks?

Look, everyone knows in the US a lot of the drive-by gang shootings are done by people who live in the Projects, and I don't think the way to stop drive-bys is to bulldoze the Projects with tanks. I rather imagine there would be an uproar.

So maybe there isn't an easy solution, but I happen to disagree with the actions of Israel right now, the same way I disagree with the actions of the United States right now. I don't think that the US is acting righteously against terrorists, and neither is Israel. And I don't think that they're justified because the people living in those houses are The Wicked. Maybe there's a PA gang member in there somewhere, but this is appalling.

Yeah, there's anti-Israeli media bias. I'm aware of it. I'm aware of concrete examples of it. But the fact remains that in this particular case, houses have been bulldozed with tanks.

This guy had the nerve to bring up the Holocaust. He said that he had talked to a couple of people who had been in Christian churches in Germany just prior to the Holocaust, and they said that the current environment in the UK is exactly like it was then.

What utter nonsense. Utter, utter nonsense.

Firstly, if they were in churches in Germany during the Holocaust, and they survived, then obviously they didn't choose to do much about it, now did they? I'm supposed to take some kind of spiritual advice from someone who watched the Holocaust happening and chose to save their own skin?

Secondly, I think growing up as the daughter of a concentration camp survivor is a sure-fire way to learn a lot about the environment in Germany just prior to the Holocaust.

I have been exposed to little incidents of anti-Semitism here. Tiny ones. And that's it.

Anyway, it was so weird. I don't want to be some kind of fiery person who runs around protesting this sort of thing or confronting rabbis and pastors and explaining to them where they went astray.

I don't want to be my dad.

I've lost my temper twice since I got here. Twice. I never lose my temper, and I've lost it twice since I got here. That's so Dad. And I had to say something at this meeting--I couldn't not say something. I couldn't. I couldn't sit there any more than I could listen to someone tell a racist joke.

I know Dad would have said something. Granted, he would have probably done so a lot more bombastically than I did, but he would have said something.

And I started to wonder what kind of horrible life I would be exposing Matthew to. You know, what if I lose my temper again? And what would it be like for him to have to be with me? What if we're at dinner some night and someone says something racist and I get up and walk out?

How can I ask him to live with that?

I can't. But although I'm going to do my level best to never lose my temper again as long as I live, I will never be someone who doesn't defend other people. And, you know, if something like the Holocaust really did start to happen again, where I was living, I'd probably do something to fight it, and I'd probably get myself killed, and how could I expose someone else to that kind of a life?

I don't know. I don't think I could have done anything differently than I did the other night, but I figured I'd better tell Matthew, because he was there for the temper-loss, so he should probably be warned so he can decide for himself.

He didn't seem unduly upset.

Anyway, I've decided for a change not to worry about it.

I sure wish Jacob Mandelsberg had been with me on Friday.