Shabbat Dinner in Jerusalem

This Saturday, I went to my first ever Shabbat dinner. I also feel pretty special, because my first Shabbat dinner was in Jerusalem, the holiest of holy cities (well, perhaps). J Andrew, friend of mine, invited my friend Ratna and I to join a group of American and British yeshiva students at an orthodox rabbi’s house.

We met at the Wailing Wall in the Old City, where a few hundred people were gathered, meeting their friends and family, some praying at the wall before heading off to celebrate Shabbat.  We walked over to see the joyful dancing; some young women danced in a circle holding hands and singing near the wall.  When we met the rabbi, he was young, only around 25 years old.  Already married with two young children, he and his wife were introduced to each other by their rabbi back in Chicago, and have moved to Jerusalem, allowing him to study Torah.  When he walked up and introduced himself at the wall, I stuck out my hand in greeting. He graciously tried to ignore it. I had forgotten that it is inappropriate for men to shake my hand during Shabbat (for him it might be an everyday rule, I’m not sure).

After our group had gathered, we left the wall and walked for around 45 minutes to the rabbi’s house, north of the Old City.  The walk was peaceful, with hardly any traffic on the streets. Transportation and using technology is prohibited during Shabbat.  When we arrived to his apartment, the lights had gone out and there was only the flicker of candlelight.  After standing in the dark for a couple moments, he politely said: “since we are celebrating Shabbat, we can’t turn on the lights. Would you do it for us?” And so, as the honorary Gentile of the group, he led me outside and pointed to the fuse for me to switch on. J Now, this might be cheating a bit, but I have a sense of humor about it. It would have been difficult to eat in the dark. J

Next came hours of amazing food and fascinating conversation. Our group consisted of young British and American Jewish men, who have come to Israel to study; the rabbi and his wife; and me and Ratna. Ratna and I are both working in the West Bank this summer, and even bringing that up felt awkward in this group.  Through the course of the evening, we spoke about the conflict, about the nature of U.S. support for Israel, loyalties to Israel vs. the United States, about how Palestinians feel in the West Bank, and whether women are mistreated in Islamic societies.   Some of them asked good questions and seemed genuinely interested in what Palestinians think/feel.  Others seemed only willing to keep professing their belief in Israel and their support for AIPAC. Another told me he hated the Arabic language, that simply the sound of it made him think they were bad people.

As angry as some of the comments made me, it was a fascinating conversation and one that I seldom experience.  The emotions that tie Jews all over the world to the Israeli state – even wealthy east coast frat boys – is astounding. When I’m forced to listen to them, and realie the extent to which Israel is embedded in their religious and cultural consciousness, it is a reminder of how difficult communication is across divides. It’s a reminder to work harder.  And also, it leaves me with the conclusion that if these young men could only see some of the things I’ve seen, they would perhaps begin to understand. I only wish I could convince more of them to come with me to Hebron, to see the Jewish settlers who throw trash at Palestinians and spit on them.  Young Jewish men like these are the ones who need to stand up and say that these settlers do not represent Judaism, nor Israel. Just as ordinary Muslims had to stand up and renounce Al Qaeda, and moderate Christians should renounce crazy people like Pat Robertson, these young men should be the ones standing up against these extremist settlers. I also wish more of them could see the good in an organization like J Street, which gives Jews a place to both love Israel but leave room to criticize its actions.

Because I could go on and on about this night, I’ll stop now. It was fascinating, and a Shabbat I won’t forget.  I hope I have more opportunities to speak to young Jews like them again. I’ll be better prepared next time. J I won’t shake hands, I’ll be ready to turn on the light switch, and I’ll challenge them more on stopping the settlements and working towards real peace.