Hag Sameach M'Yerushalayim (Happy Holidays from Jerusalem)

I know that I promised a blog on all things political, but as today is December 25th I thought it appropriate to, instead, touch on issues of religiosity here in the Holy Land. This subject, while much more personal and individual than politics, is not one to which I can express my thoughts in a truly thorough and complete manner. I will, of course, try as best I can to convey my experiences as I've come to view them at this juncture - five months into my sojourn in Jerusalem. This year, the Christmas spirit has filled me not with the jolly American consumerism of old, but with a more solitary and reflective version of observance.

I am very much a member of the religious minority here in the Jewish state of Israel; as an incredibly blessed, young, Christian woman living in the United States, it is without a doubt the first time I've been defined by such a status. It should be made explicitly clear, though, that this label has not played a negative role in my experience so far. Rather, it has been a spiritually enlightening designation. Over the last months, I've been approached, by both my classmates at Hebrew University and by curious Israeli friends, with questions about Christianity and my own personal version of faith.

Do you really believe in transfiguration? Isn't that just kind of ridiculous and unrealistic? and Jesus was a Jew - a really observant one, in fact! He kept Kosher and observed Shabbat. Wouldn't you, as a Christian, want to emulate Jesus' life? Such complicated questions are almost always coupled with shockingly, and deceptively, simple queries. So what do you DO at church? and What is Easter all about, exactly?

The kinds of conversations that are stimulated by such questions are few and far between in my life in the United States. At Wellesley, theological discussions are most often limited to the inter-denominational concept of God:– is He real?, how does one reconcile God with the problem of evil? Religious affiliation is regularly chopped up to mere semantics in exchange for the greater philosophical debates that surround the primitive conception of a nameless, faceless higher power. But is such a focus truly greater?

In Israel, I've been forced to answer and, in turn, learned to ask the very questions I had been conditioned to avoid in my comfortable bubble of politically correct abstractions. Here, semantics are not brushed aside with ease, but treated with care, with reverential consideration. In this place, religion has been inextricably tied to suffering from time immemorial. The details are anything but insignificant; they govern life, they give faith. Perched in my Ivory Tower, comfortably ensconced in the hazy fog of academia, it was easy to paint religiosity with broad brush strokes, in a palette of striking hues. My experiences over the last months have forced me to alter my style, however: to slow down, to remember the way colors can blend together or pop out in contrast, and above all, to never forget or discount the details. In the details, the painting becomes a masterpiece; in the details, we find our faith.

Three weeks left in Israel; how time flies!

From Jerusalem - Happy Holidays.

B'Ahava,
Meagan