Tuesday, February 23, 2016

A Different Saturday

Museums are intriguing places to visit, not just because of what they contain, but also because of how they weave a story together with what they contain. You can tell a lot about a place just by how their museums tell their national story. On Saturday, we visited the Israeli Museum here in Jerusalem. The most important part of the museum is dedicated to the various ancient scrolls and codices (books) that are the foundation of the Old Testament. In other words, they ground the religious and historical identity of Israel as a nation.

However, I spent most of my time in the fine arts wing, which is on the same campus. Most of the exhibits did not focus on the history of Western art (as we are used to in the US), but on Israeli identity. What does it mean to be an Israeli? What does it mean to be a Jewish nation? It was a fascinating question that was answered in various ways through different works of art. Yet, I think that this question was answered later in the day as I walked down the main street of downtown Jerusalem during Shabbat.

Shabbat, or Sabbath, is observed from sundown Friday to sundown on Saturday. During this time everything in Jerusalem shuts down and the streets are nearly free of cars. Everyone is walking and a silence ensues. To see a normally bustling main street filled with trendy shops, upscale cafe's totally closed, and silence permeating the urban ambiance is something an American is not used to. The observance of the commandments and laws of Moses are what seem to give this city its identity. This may seem obvious to some, since Jerusalem is the center of religious life for Jews around the world, however, to see it lived concretely is a completely different thing.

Having the Sabbath not on a Sunday and being surrounded by an observant Jewish culture is a little disorienting. It is perhaps just as disorienting as the streets in the Old City (within the walls). Yet, as a Christian, I can't help but think that there is a connection to this culture, to these people. There is a unity of the rhythm of life and a unity of heart. When I see observant Jews praying at the Western Wall or observing Shabbat, I feel like a child again. It is like looking at my parents while they talk to each other and converse, and even if I don't understand everything they're talking about, I feel that I am a part of them in some way.

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