Empty spaces, sacred spaces
Things we have lost, community we have gained
My worldwide community never fails to include me, even though I am not really Jewish. The Chabad rabbi at Penn, who was introduced to me by a friend of a friend of a friend, invited me to their Hanukkah celebrations in the neighborhood. I stopped by this afternoon and had a wonderful time. There were no guests there when I arrived, so I had a long talk with the rabbi’s wife. She is just as much of a leader of the Chabad at Penn as he is, and their daughter also works there now. She was so gracious and caring when I told her about my dad’s passing. I almost started to cry when I told her how proud he was that I was getting involved in pro-Israel stuff and writing against antisemitism. It’s okay to cry in Jewish spaces, I’ve noticed. They do grief much better than anyone I’ve ever known.
I asked how things are at Penn. She said that attendance at Shabbat dinners has more than doubled. They used to have maybe 70 people, now they have 170! “Students showed up this year and said, ‘We are ready for Jewish life!’” Apparently the encampments and riots and intimidation didn’t work! Like many of my adult Jewish friends, Penn students seem to be moving toward their Jewish culture and even religion, not away from it.
I ate some latkes and decorated a couple of cookies. Eventually a grandmother with two little kids came in. They had a wonderful time coloring menorah shaped sun catchers and coloring in pictures, as well as decorating cookies. A young student from New York helped them apply blue and sparkly sprinkles to their cookies. The kids didn’t really even want to eat, they just loved to decorate! While I am sometimes afraid of small children and never teach younger than fifth grade, well-behaved Jewish children coloring peacefully is quite soothing.
Their grandmother asked me what I do in Philly… she is visiting her daughter’s family for the holiday. I said I’m a freelance writer and a teacher. This much is true.
On the way home I walked by a deli that used to be a staple of West Philly culture. It was a giant beer store, and open 9 am to midnight 365 days a year, until after the pandemic when it started to close at 10 pm. It also served great, though perhaps sketchy, food. I used to get burgers and grilled cheese there, and met friends for lunch and dinner or breakfast. I have so many memories of that place from over the years. I used to live across the street from it. It closed a few months ago but the shell of it is still there, with the counters and the fridges. It’s creepy to see a place where I have both good memories and bad, now standing empty like a skeleton. I knew the woman who worked as the cashier, Lily. I miss her, and hope she was able to find another job. She was so hard working and kind.
My dad’s passing has left an empty space in my heart. I keep seeing the chair where he sat in the living room, reading or watching TV or chatting with me and my step-mother while her little dog cuddled up next to her in her chair. It feels like he is still there, in the way that the presence of someone who has gone before us still lingers sometimes. Yet unlike with Marilyn’s death, I can feel that my dad is at peace. He is not trying to hang on. He is with G-d. Of this I have no doubt.
It’s hard to imagine what I would be like now if I had never had a connection to Israel. From first just trying to be supportive of my Jewish friends to meeting real Israelis to connecting with the Jewish community worldwide and all of you, I have become more alive, more connected to G-d, and more sure of who I am than in a very long time.
There have been many moments of fear and sadness since my first contact with Israel, but I put my faith in G-d now and I can let that fear recede. Many of my Christian friends who practice prayer say the same. I hang out with another group that is predominantly Christian, and we end up talking a lot about giving up fear and choosing faith. It is not always easy, and there are real things to be afraid of and plan for. Pain is real. Suffering is real. Death is real. People wanting to kill us is real (the terrorists want to kill the Christians too - listen to what they actually say!). But G-d is real too. And the manifestation of G-d here on earth is in the outpouring of love that humans can show each other.
Cats too.
I was lonely today, feeling again like walking through mud to do anything. Then I went to this celebration and I feel whole again. The rabbi’s wife encouraged me to look for Jewish schools to teach at. Maybe she can help me find some appropriate clothes, though in summer I mostly wear long skirts anyway. It would be a fun context in which to answer the question, “Are you Jewish?”
A happy second night of Hanukkah to my worldwide family, a happy Boxing Day to my British and Canadian friends, and it’s still Christmas until Epiphany I will remind you Christians, so don’t even think of taking those Christmas decorations down yet! You’re too tired anyway!