I have not written much lately about my personal feelings about living in Israel, yet a moment today in the grocery story was completely exemplary of the Israeli mentality and how I am sincerely struggling with עמי מדינת ישראל - the people of the State of Israel.
Judaism teaches us that we should care for one another. In fact, we at HUC have spent the last 4 days studying the idea of collective responsibility within the construct of Jewish Peoplehood. And then there's the Israeli mentality. The following series of events happened just moments ago.
And there it is. I was here, and my cart was my marker. This is my spot, even though I'm not here. It may not be the courteous thing to do, it may not be the compassionate thing to do, it may not even be the Jewish thing to do. But this is Israel. And my forward movement in line is the only thing of importance.
Shortly thereafter, though, I was walking home and feeling pretty upset about how disconnected my sense of Judaism and Jewish practice and how those integrate to the person I am was to what I have seen over the last 10 months (wow, it's been 10 months) in this country that should be the ideal Jewish homeland. Instead, as I was walking up the stairs, carrying some heavy bags filled with recently purchased groceries, our neighbor, an elderly Russian gentleman who is also our handyman, sees me. I say hello and wish him Shabbat Shalom. "Good boy," he says like a proud parent, and flexes his muscles relating to my task of carrying the bags up the stairs.
There are courteous, compassionate, Jewish acting individuals in this country. I think I just need to spend more time finding them and forgetting the others.
Judaism teaches us that we should care for one another. In fact, we at HUC have spent the last 4 days studying the idea of collective responsibility within the construct of Jewish Peoplehood. And then there's the Israeli mentality. The following series of events happened just moments ago.
- I got in line to check out in the super market.
- An Israeli woman gets in line behind me and says, "Oh, I forgot something. Hold my place in line." She leaves her cart.
- A British woman attempts to get in line behind me, getting in front of the woman who was, obviously, not there any longer. She had, indeed, been gone for a minute now. The British woman starts a conversation with me about how this behavior is improper and when the same situation happened to her just days ago in Britain, she was, understandably, allowed to take the vacant person's spot. I asked her for how long she has been in the country. She replies, "I arrived on Tuesday." I responded, knowing what would happen next, "Welcome to Israel."
- Without missing a beat, the Israeli woman comes back, and the two start arguing. The British woman explaining, "You weren't here." She goes on to tell her story of how things are different in Britain. The Israeli woman retorts, "Well, not in Israel. This is my spot."
And there it is. I was here, and my cart was my marker. This is my spot, even though I'm not here. It may not be the courteous thing to do, it may not be the compassionate thing to do, it may not even be the Jewish thing to do. But this is Israel. And my forward movement in line is the only thing of importance.
Shortly thereafter, though, I was walking home and feeling pretty upset about how disconnected my sense of Judaism and Jewish practice and how those integrate to the person I am was to what I have seen over the last 10 months (wow, it's been 10 months) in this country that should be the ideal Jewish homeland. Instead, as I was walking up the stairs, carrying some heavy bags filled with recently purchased groceries, our neighbor, an elderly Russian gentleman who is also our handyman, sees me. I say hello and wish him Shabbat Shalom. "Good boy," he says like a proud parent, and flexes his muscles relating to my task of carrying the bags up the stairs.
There are courteous, compassionate, Jewish acting individuals in this country. I think I just need to spend more time finding them and forgetting the others.
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