First Shabbat

Technically Shabbat just started at sunset (7-ish) today, so tomorrow is really the day of rest.  I walked with Marge and Dave (and Dustin) around the area.  We went to a schwarma place; BEST SCHWARMA I've ever had in my life.  And Daniela says that place wasn't the good one!  Then we got drinks and sat at the pizza place because Dave wanted pizza.  He got a tuna and onion pizza, because you don't mix cheese with meat; it's just not kosher.  Except you can mix fish with it...  Every day I learn a little bit more about this culture.  There was this table of leather straps--nothing very special about that--but we learned they had scriptures on them, and the Jews wrap them around their arms a special way while reciting a prayer, a form of the old scriptures that required them to wear the scriptures on their foreheads and arms.

I also saw tons of yamakas with different radical and punk-ish designs.  For some reason that struck me as funny.  It reminded me of the buttons you pin on your backpacks that only punk kids or activists and politicians wear these days.  I half expected an anarchy sign on one.  That would be doubly ironic.

I also learned about Jerusalem syndrome, but I'll talk about that later.

So Marge and Dave took us to the Shook (shuk, like u in "you"), which is the marketplace: a series of narrow alleys full of tables piled with goods and packed with people.  Apparently Friday afternoon is the most packed time because Shabbat starts in the evening and everyone is getting their last minute things in order.  Marge and Dave are fast-paced walkers, so we only really got a glimpse of it all.  But our time was somewhat limited.  We bought flowers to bring to Matt and Daniela's because we were going to their place for dinner and that's just what you do when you go to someone house for Shabbat.  Marge and Dave were going to someone else's place, so they got flowers too.  And then we stopped at an olive stand.  Marge told me it's okay to just taste them.  So I tasted several varieties and bought a small container… for now…  They were all very good, and much more flavorful than what I'm used to.  Apparently you don't eat olives straight off the tree.  They have to sit in brine for a while in order to be palatable.  I had it in my mind that I was going to eat a fresh olive straight from the tree and it was going to be the most amazing olive I've ever tasted.  Nevertheless, these were really good, so I am not at all disappointed, just disillusioned.

I can't wait to buy some fabric.  We passed by several fabric stores and I hope I find something beautiful.  All I have found in Minnesota has been from the mainstream stores, which is nice, but not really what I'm looking for.

I also learned that if you want to buy something here, you gotta push your way to the cashier, because there is no such thing as a line.

So Matt met us on our way to the apartments and we went with him around 2-ish to his apartment.  Dustin and Matt hung out, and I stayed with Daniela.  We walked around the church/mall because she wanted to give some flowers to her friend for her birthday.   I met the pastor (Wayne), who happens to be from Canada, and who happened to be at Cedarview church in Newmarket, Ontario when he received his call to Israel.  He was there in 1980.  The funny thing is that I went to Cedarview when I lived with Trish.  But that was in 2001-2002.  Small world stuff!

So then I helped Daniela prepare a delicious Mexican meal for nine people.  We chopped up a bunch of stuff, put it in a pot, and added meat.  We served it over garlic rice.  It was delicious.  I can't remember what it was called: a Mexican word with an implication about everything being chopped.

Six thirty rolled around, and the meal was just about done and we all stood to say grace.  The Shabbat siren blew.  It was the loudest siren I've ever heard.  It sounded more like a giant trombone that pierced the entire city with its blast.  And it went on for at least thirty seconds, if not more.  It was the warning blast, indicating that everyone had to get their work done now.  That's when all the shops locked up and closed down, and the ultra orthodox's last chance to catch a cab home.

Matt said a prayer in Hebrew and we shared communion before we began.  It was really nice to sit and eat with everyone.  It felt like a holiday.  I met Greg and Sarah, and their 9-month old Zechariah.

I learned that Jerusalem syndrome is actually a thing that happens here.  It is a syndrome in which a person comes to Jerusalem and suddenly thinks he's a prophet--one of the witnesses prophesied about in Revelation--or the person just gets really obsessive about Jerusalem being a sacred place.  Apparently its validity is debated in the psychological community around the world, but here in Israel it is not (because it happens a lot).  It is simply dealt with as a psychological disorder.  I don't really know what all that entails, but there are people in the mental institutions here that suffer from or deal with this.  Interesting.

So that was today.  As we left and waited for the elevator, I noticed a button that was red.  Apparently even pushing a button on Shabbat is considered work (because you are operating machinery), so the elevator to the right continuously goes up and down, stopping at every other floor and opening the doors so ultra orthodox Jews can just wait and walk in and then get off when it finally stops at their desired floor. 

The Jewish religion is so accommodated here.  There are two McDonalds' a block from each other: a regular one and a kosher one (no cheeseburgers, people!).  Although I feel that the pushing of the button being considered work is going overboard, at least the religion itself is respected enough to be accommodated to that level.  I can only imagine how difficult it must be for a Jew living anywhere else.  You'd almost have to compromise, or you'd be extremely tempted to do so, and I suppose that would make for a very heavy heart, and a longing to be in Israel.  No wonder I met so many Jews from Brooklyn, New York, each having come to Israel multiple times.

This city is not just Jews though.  I've met more different nationalities here than Israeli!  It's a lot like the US in its diversity, except its all concentrated in this city, and the people are foreigners, not so much born here like many of the different nationalities in the US.  Most of the diverse nationalities I've seen in the US are second and third generation Americans.  So it is so strange to me to be exposed to so many different cultures directly.  I have mixed feelings about this place.  I'm hearing a lot about what the Jews are experiencing and going through here, but nothing from an actual Jew, so I'm still not clear about what it's actually like to be a Jew in Jerusalem.  In Romans, Paul talks about the fact that the gospel came to the Jews first, but they rejected it, and if the rejection of the gospel by the Jews enabled the whole world to then take part in the new covenant, then how much more would come out of the acceptance of the gospel by the Jews?  It's a beautiful thought.  

But I don't truly understand what that means, other than the fact that they have the best insight into the meaning of the scriptures.  They of all people would best be able to help interpret scripture simply because scripture was written by Jews; people who shared their ideas and cultural mindsets.  I've already gained insight into some scripture from hearing some of them answer questions in Matt's young adult group.