I have wanted to write about what happened to my husband and me last Friday all week, but it has been busy and crazy. The first of the week we sadly said good-bye to friends that had been visiting from the states. And the day after they left I came down with the flu. I haven’t been sick like this in years. I did not enjoy spending 24 hours in bed–which is totally unusual for me.
But I am grateful for an early start to the day now and an hour to reflect and put into words our experience. Living in Israel gives us a bird’s-eye-view of the conflict between Ishmael and Isaac–two ancient brothers with the same father that have been at war with each and God for centuries. The story is old but still makes the headlines in some form or fashion daily.
The place where we live in Jerusalem finds us situated between these two brothers literally as we live close to East Jerusalem by an Arab village. Daily as we come and go we are very aware of these two worlds. We pray for both. We believe in God’s healing power to bring reconciliation, but we know the problems are deep, ancient, and complex. There are no simple answers. We hear stories and are empathetic to the plights of both.
Last Friday my husband had to fill the car with gas. While at the station, an Arab man approached him begging him to buy a razor. My husband didn’t need it, so he refused kindly. Maybe it was my husband’s kindness, but the man became very desperate and pleaded with him to buy. He said that he couldn’t work and needed food. He carried on and on. It broke W’s heart, so he gave him some money, not the full price of the razor, but some money for food. The Arab man became enraged accusing my husband of hating Arabs and not buying from them, preferring the Jews.
Nothing could be farther from the truth. We often frequent Arab stores and have no problem buying from or giving them our business. But this is a common accusation. Many Arab vendors in the Old City become agitated if you don’t buy from them and complain that tourists would rather give their money to the Jews living in the country. Some days you can feel anger in the air as you walk from shop to shop. I have been afraid occasionally.
The Arab man’s anger just didn’t seem to match the situation. But later when I thought about it, I considered his plight–common to many. His anger was a reflection of years of misunderstanding that has escalated into urgency and painful desperation. They want to be heard. They want to be understood.
Later that afternoon we were returning from the airport with our daughter and found ourselves close to Meah She’arim, the ultra-Orthodox area of Jerusalem. We had heard that the Hanukkah lights were beautiful around 5 PM and could be seen from the windows if you drive through slowly. We actually thought we had a few minutes until the Sabbath began, so we drove on the edge of Meah She’arim trying to see some lights. The street wasn’t closed yet, so we proceeded. We really didn’t want to offend anyone, but we actually thought is wasn’t quite sundown. This decision was very stupid, and we will never do it again.
As it happened, we got turned around and found ourselves driving deeper and deeper into the ultra-Orthodox part of town. The black hatters, dressed up in Hanukkah and Sabbath regalia poured from their homes just as the Sabbath began and were making their way by foot to near by synagogues… The streets were full of people. In fact, I have never seen so many ultra-Orthodox Jews on the streets.
They began shouting at us in anger: “Shabbos” which is Sabbath in Yiddish. It wasn’t completely dark yet, so we could see the expressions on their faces. They were violently angry that we were driving on their streets at the beginning of the Sabbath. They stomped passed us, flashed death looks, and I thought one man was going to hit our car with his hands. His white beard was so long that the wind split it in two as we passed him. I believe angels restrained him from touching our car.
I feared for our lives for the first time in Israel. They would have stoned our car, if they had rocks in their hands. I felt a murderous spirit. And we were truly lost, winding deeper and deeper into this exclusive section of town.
Desperately, my husband rolled down his window and asked for directions. The people stared at him in hatred and walked faster away from the car. I rolled down my window and pleaded, “We are lost. Can you direct us on how to get out of here. We are sorry.” The man and little boy who passed shot a death look at me, raised his head in piety, and marched on, determined to show us how evil we were for breaking the Sabbath by driving.
Even the children in the streets became angry. At the time, I remember feeling stunned at the level of hatred I felt from them–adults yes, but children, no.
Then an attractive young mother, with children around her feet stopped. She looked like an angel from heaven to me at that moment, although, I could feel her trepidation and desire to be quick. She said, “Turn left.” We said, “Thank you.” And she answered, “Shabbat Shalom” and scurried off.
After our left turn, it took a few moments to wind out away from the that other-worldly world that we had stumbled into innocently. We breathed sighs of relief and had a few good laughs later over it. But really it was not funny at the time.
So here we are on Christmas Eve day, caught between two brothers. And we are considering the extremities of both worlds. Just as tourists we have been touched and pained by brushing lives with these two enemies. Their fanatical lifestyles have nothing to do with each other at times, but I do see how they are misunderstood by the on looking world.
And I don’t pretend to understand all by my brief experience. I realize I am seeing through my own world view and experiences. But I am influenced by the lives around me.
Honestly, I feel a little out of place right now… longing for the home lights of the season in my own country… A place where culture is as familiar as warm flannel pajamas on snowy night in winter. In reality, I know home is the place of God’s choosing, and that as a pilgrim, I am looking not for home but for a “city whose builder and maker is God.” I must not settle but keep moving upward, onward toward that destiny.
I am also considering Emmanuel–God with us–the message of the season. What does it means in this situation here feeling the tension of the war between two brothers, feeling the pain of both, seeing the extremism of both…
Well, Judy Garland is singing, cookies are baking, family is near, the cat is curled up on my lap, purring… yeah, it is one of those days. The smell of cinnamon fills the air. What is it about cinnamon that set the soul right?
Here’s my recipe for simple holiday cookies. It is a standard Snickerdoodle cookie recipe with the optional variation of orange zest and melted chocolate to dip half of each baked cookie. The blend of cinnamon, orange zest, and chocolate make this a simple, quick, and festive holiday cookie.
brief shadows lengthen
in magic and mystery
the winter solstice
Each holiday season in December, I am handed the opportunity to gaze upon the shekinah glory of God that shone about the shepherds of Bethlehem on a cold night in Israel long ago—a night that changed the world forever. It is challenging because there is great competition and distraction in this beautiful Season of Light with all the sparkle, parties, tinsel, glitter, gifts, food, music—all the making of memories—that draw us back into these special days of celebration year after year. It all points back to the Savior—or at least it should…
Well, we spent the day yesterday in IKEA and an appliance store helping our friends get situated in their apartment.
We came home late and fell into bed… so no Hanukkah lights! We did see plenty on the way home as we traveled from Netanya to Jerusalem.
But this morning when we awoke, we found the sky pink and the sunrise glowing over Jerusalem.
The natural lights of the universe made quite a display… it was one of the prettiest dawns I’ve seen here.
I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth (Genesis 49:6).
We had a feast last evening… friendship, stories, laughter, food, drink, prayer, and fellowship! On the fourth day of Hanukkah, we celebrated indeed.
“… in His light, we see light.” (Psalm 36:9).
I spent the late afternoon making latkes or potato pancakes. They are a Hanukkah tradition and worth the calorie splurge once a year. Here is a great step-by-step process. Later, our Israeli neighbors upstairs came down, and we enjoyed the time together with latkes and sour cream and applesauce, lots of good conversation, and laughs.
That was the appetizer. Later we piled in the car and ate dinner out: lamb kabobs, humus, and chips (french fries or as some say W. fries).
Arise, shine for your light is come and the glory of the Lord is risen upon you. Gross darkness shall cover the peoples of the earth, but my glory is risen upon you. (Isaiah 60:1)
Yesterday was such a sweet day with my husband. We drove to Ein Kerem, which is a beautiful town nestled in the Judean Hills just outside of Jerusalem. We had lunch at one of our favorite restaurants and then ate a gelato and walked around. It was way too cold for gelato, but it was soooo good anyway. I should have gotten a hot chocolate instead.
We came home took naps and then lit the Hanukkah candles… just the two of us with the gray of evening falling to night, and the three candles burning against the dark.
We gathered with some friends in our neighborhood to light the first candle of Hanukkah. As we walked to their apartment, we noticed the colors of the sky. It was that twilight time of early night when everything becomes gray, but last evening it seemed grayish purple. And we could feel the evening falling as we entered our friends’ warm and cozy home.
I love the season of light! It is full of miracles and hope, and it sets the perfect entrance for turning the calendar to a new year. Tonight is the first night we light candles… and so on for eight evenings.
Our dear friends from the states will join us Monday afternoon and be here for a week. That will make Hanukkah celebrations even more festive. And our daughter will be here on Friday for a whole month before she travels on to Cyprus…
