holy days

Me sitting on a chair with water in my hand and my mouth wide open... i just thought this was a good way to start this post so i did it

So Purim and Easter happened.

What's Purim? The sound cats make in Israel? A mispronunciation of that hairstyle where people make their hair curly? A city in Russia?

Purim is none of those things, but I am sure you are all happy I somehow incorporated cats into my blog once again.

The history of Purim is found in the book of Esther during a time when the Jewish people were in Persia ruled at the time by King Ahashverosh. One of the King's advisors, Haman, planned the genocide of the Jewish people in Persia, but his plans were foiled by Mordecai and Esther, who had recently become Queen of Persia. Purim celebrates the deliverance of the Jewish people from Haman as stipulated in Esther 9:22: "...that they should make them days of feasting and gladness, days for sending gifts of food to one another and gifts to the poor."

A simplified version, as one classmate summarized, of all of Israel's holidays is: "Someone tried to kill us, God rescued us, we celebrate".

That is the history of Purim. The modern practice by the more secular population of Israel looks more like an Israeli version of the American Halloween: everyone dresses up in all sorts of costumes walking around the city celebrating. Even a guy dressed as Aladdin rode down the road (as seen on YouTube) in Tel Aviv. Of course there are varying explanations as to why this tradition of costume wearing has come about, from the fact that God seems hidden behind the scenes in the story of Esther to the fact Esther hid her Jewish identity while becoming Queen of Persia (see book of Esther for the whole story)...

I dressed up as a cowboy. My excuse for not eliminating American stereotypes with my costume is that I found the cowboy hat at the Dead Sea and the red bandana brought the total cost of my costume to about $2. Hence, the cowboy. Although I had many people ask if I was Kurt Cobain. And then one guy from Brazil asked if I was trying to be Captain Love from Zorro. The pictures below are for you to make your own verdict as to who I was or should have been (one thing is certain though: I am definitely happier than either of them):

What's Easter? Someone with English as a second language trying to tell you to go further east? One who easts? The southern way of saying "he stir"? I stir, you stir, she stir, easter?

Easter is none of those things. In fact, I'm sorry for the last one. I may have been trying a bit too hard to think of another thing to say...

Easter is the Christian celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Good Friday (the Friday before Easter Sunday) is when Christians remember the death of Jesus on the cross which was prophesied in Isaiah 53, "...but he was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed." Easter Sunday is the day Christians remember when the same Jesus was raised from the dead, a fact that separates Christianity from other major religions.

I spent Easter visiting some of the major biblical sites in Jersualem from the Garden Tomb to the Mount of Olives and the Church of Ascension to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

The Garden Tomb

One of the great things about Israel is the sheer density of historical and religious locations packed into the tiny country. Furthermore, Jersualem itself contains major religious sites for all three major religions.

Just look at the weekend I just described to you. In one weekend there was a Jewish holiday, a secular, Westernized costume party with people from all over the world, and a major Christian celebration. Sitting on the Mount of Olives on Easter Sunday looking over the diverse city below church bells tolled, ringing out across the hills telling of their joy. Shortly afterward, the cries of the Muslim call to prayer sounded out in the same city.

I am still in the stage of my journey here that I am trying to absorb more than I interject and so I am still absorbing and observing all these happenings while trying to process and ask questions more than I force my perceptions and stereotypes. There are definite tensions in this city and nation. You can hear them in the discord of sounds echoing across the landscape on Easter Sunday. You can hear them in conversations and opinions. You can hear them in newspapers and tweets.

You can hear them,
if you listen.

Some of the loudest stretch out and reach the ears of Americans. Others are whispered in a foreign tongue such that only who have broken bread listening to broken hearts can truly hear.

I say this, first, to excuse away my lack of commentary on the politics in this area of the world and, secondly, to encourage you to be engaged in the community around you in a way that enables you to hear the struggles and the voices of those around you. There are oppressed voices in every community.

Listen and notice.

You might just find harmony where you thought there was discord and beauty where you thought there was filth.