Allies when you least expect them

#ISS2013. This was the hashtag of my life over the last two weeks. I tweeted my way through Texas, Tennessee, Mississippi, Arkansas and Louisiana. I apologize for not updating my blog along the way, but I got to a point where my experiences were very emotionally challenging. I didn’t have the space I needed in my head to be able to write.

Christian community leaders in Tennessee

Last time I updated my blog I had experienced a wonderful Purim celebration with a wonderful congregation in Watertown, TN. The next day we continued on to a lunch hosted by the Caleb Company, followed by a discussion in Brentwood, Tennessee with Christian leaders who were there to represent their congregation. We were hosted by a wonderful woman named Betsy who opened her home and her heart to give us a platform to share our message. I made sure to dress in my Sunday best but had reservations over whether or not I could truly open myself up to mainstream Christians.

When I was a little girl (probably 8 years old), I went to once per week to study under the Kumon system, developed in order to help children improve and excel in mathematics. This class was held at a local church. One of the classrooms, which looked like any other classroom I had been in at the time, was filled with plenty of visual stimulation and learning tools. Across the top of the wall was a picture border surrounding the perimeter of the classroom. It was the story of Jesus, so I walked along each section, reading what friends my age were learning in Sunday school. And then I got to the part where Jesus was sentenced to death. By that time, I was really upset because he seemed like a good guy. The next section would forever influence me and my feelings towards the Christian faith. I remember it very clearly:

“The Jews Killed Jesus”.

I was a Jew. I was eight. How could I have killed Jesus? Why would I or my people do such a thing? It was heartbreaking for me and I felt as bad as a little kid could feel in being told that her people killed someone. As I grew up, I always distanced myself from Christians because I felt, through that experience, I was able to see what they really felt about me. In high school this was further exacerbated when I was told by a friend in choir class that I was going to hell because I didn’t believe in Jesus. Well great, first I learn I killed your savior and I now I’m going to hell for not believing him. I knew at that point that I didn’t belong in America. I immersed myself in my Jewish studies and my Persian heritage, making sure to always surround myself with people who loved me and who were like me. 

As I stood in front of this crowd of Christians, representing Israel and the Jewish people, I felt alone and disconnected. They were all wonderfully sweet people, but I still had my guard up. During question and answer period we received the usual questions, except one woman got up and asked “Why is it that Christians ally with Israel, but Jews don’t always ally with us?”

I felt like I was punched in the gut. All the sudden my dark red dress went from representing the red in the American flag to representing the thousands of years of Jewish blood spilled at the hands of Christians because of the one belief: The Jews killed Jesus. I took a deep breath and shared with her my experience as a little girl, which isn’t far off from those of many of my other Jewish friends growing up. This was the first time that I had ever opened up to anyone about this story, and it was very emotional for me. 

At the end of our time to speak, the group, about forty Christians representing a dozen denominations, huddled around us and prayed out loud. Members, one by one, chimed in with their blessing for me, calling me by Hebrew name “Yocheved” which means “Glory of God”. They openly apologized and prayed for my forgiveness. They poured their hearts and their souls into my hands, and I was overcome with an overwhelming sense of reconciliation. As I stood there, weeping with tears streaming down my face, I was able to break through my barrier of defense against the Christian community. Just thinking about it, my eyes well up with tears as I re-experience the love that I felt from this phenomenal group of American Christians who were able to come forward, take responsibility for the actions of their fellow Christians, shower me with love and goodness, and genuinely pray for my healing from my childhood experience.

Several members from this crowd are scheduled to be in Israel soon. It’s about time we come full circle and I greet them in Israel, the Jewish homeland- my homeland, as together we expunge the hatred that has created so many barriers along the way. I want nothing more than to stand with them at the entrance to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, in front of the very stone Jesus was laid as he was prepared for burial. As a Jew, I am a guardian of his faith. As a Jew, I will protect the land of Israel, and as a Jew, and I will stand in solidarity with whoever is ready to stand with me.