Yerusalem If I Forget You

I recently returned from a family trip to Israel where we spent almost three weeks traveling the country, visiting with family and my personal favorite, hanging out at the beach. Though I have been to Israel many times and have studied in Tel Aviv for six months I always end up having an experience that alters something inside of me. And this time was no different.

Midway through our trip we visited Jerusalem for a full day. When visiting this city of many millennia it is easy to see how it has captured the awe and imagination of centuries of Jewish, Christian and Muslim pilgrims. They come from afar to worship at their respective holy sites cramped right next to each other. Though the holiest place in Judaism, the Kotel (Western Wall), is situated only meters away from the second holiest place in Christianity, the Church of the Holy Seplucar, and the third holiest in Islam, al-Aqsa, they are separated by a gulf that spans miles.

Not only does this gap exist from religion to religion but within all three faiths, though not to the same degree. Each religion is divided into various subgroups that have the same fundamental tenets but differ in their traditions and observances. Why they become fractured varies across all three but Christianity and Islam have a long history of sectarian violence (wiki ‘sectarian violence’ for more detail) between their subgroups while Judaism has not had the same conflicts erupt between its denominations. This could be due to the fact that Conservative and Reform Judaism have only been around for a relatively short period of time or that discussion and arguments are encouraged, whereas in the other two religions, central authorities have the final say on religious dogma.

This all relates to my trip to Jerusalem for when I went to the Kotel I was approached by a man offering to assist me with leining tefilin. I politely declined wanting to experience the Kotel in my own way and not feeling the connection between prayer and commitment to my Judaism. He questioned me on why I would not partake in this ritual and we had a respectful discussion on religion, prayer, and intention during prayer. This was all well until an older orthodox rabbi from a Philadelphian suburb came over into the discussion. I respectfully listened to the points he was making (though unconvinced) and waited for my turn to respond. However, he did not give me a chance to voice my opinion and began cutting me off only after a few words. It is this stuck in the mud opinions that make it harder for compromise, unity and put off non-highly observant Jews from the religion.

But to make it worse he told my father that it was his sin for raising a son who would not put on tefilin. This bothered me the most for questioning and reasoning rather than blind obedience have been the traits that I have taken from my parents, religion and education.