22/12/97

Helping Jews is very Christian of them

    If you can let go of your fellow Jew's throat for long enough, there are strangers in our midst who'd love to say how wonderful we are.
    Yeah, I know, some Jews feel more comfortable believing Christians hate us. When they hated us, we couldn't understand why; now, we can't understand why they love us. We're a funny people like that.
    I rooted out a gang of nice Christians at the Rehavia office of Bridges For Peace, glowing, clean-cut, hap-hap-happy young people who devote their lives to loving the Jewish people. Try to get a nasty word out of them, and they'll talk about how we drive, or problems with bureaucracy, and that's it.
    "The goyim are afraid of what the Jews will say about them," says Clarence Wagner, smiling at the irony. "We understand the fear factor, the suspicions, of people who fled to this country to escape [persecution]."
    Wagner, international director of Bridges For Peace, has 30 volunteers in Israel engaged in charitable work, and each one of them is screened, to ensure they understand why they're here. Do-gooders only need apply; missionizing is, of course, forbidden. The only message they spread, says Wagner, is that "Israel is not alone."
    You can't help but feel good about your people, and your country, when these folks get going. They're only too pleased to remind us of accomplishments we've long forgotten: the unparalleled humanitarianism of immigrant absorption; the greening of the deserts, draining of swamps and conjuring up of cities and towns out of nothing, in no time. "The establishment of Israel is one of the greatest wonders of our time."
    Makes you wince, eh?
    But for Wagner's people, this is the stuff of wide-eyed faith: prophesies come true, biblical promises kept.
    These Christians don't damn us for killing Jesus, they praise us for providing him. That, however, is too religious -- too risque -- a message to bandy about in this country. They are here for three reasons: to promote Christian understanding of Israel; to counter antisemitism; to engender love for the Jews. They broadcast their message worldwide on a TV program called Jerusalem Mosaic.
    Can that be bad?
    "Christians just want to get involved, whether for biblical reasons, or, in the case of many Europeans, because of the Holocaust," Wagner explains.
    They will be far from home this Christmas, many of them without their families, just to provide succor to the Jewish people. Vladimir, a towering, rosy-cheeked, bearded Russian, greets immigrants with a gift at the organization's Talpiot warehouse: a kitchen starter set and blankets, toys and school supplies for the children, a Russian-Hebrew Bible. Of course, that mystifies some rabbis. "They wonder why Christians would want to give out Bibles -- Jewish Bibles -- to immigrants," says Wagner. To avoid any apprehension, BFP distributes the strictly kosher Rav Kook edition, in cooperation with the Anti-Defamation League.
    Just as important as the giveaways, for some disillusioned immigrants, Vladimir always has an encouraging word: you're home now. "We want them to know: somebody loves them."
    BFP distributes a ton of food daily. It's quite funny, really: "Volunteers from Japan, Papua New Guinea, South Africa, are packing food parcels for everything from a soup kitchen in Mea Shearim to a home for blind girls in Bethlehem," says Rebecca Brimmer, proudly showing off the operations. "Working through 35 agencies, we help single parents, Jewish victims of Arab terrorism, Ethiopians. We try to help Arab Christians too, but most -- I'd say 80 percent -- of our aid goes to Jews.
    "We believe that the greatest mitzva is helping people help themselves. We get people on their feet when they're struggling."
    Still suspicious?
    They march into farms and factories to collect gleanings, as proscribed in the Bible, for the needy; they encourage Christian tourists to bring an extra suitcase packed with items they can donate to the cause; they run a program called Adopt-A-Family, directly linking 135 immigrant families with Christians who care.
    And there's the project led by Carl Bennett, a 67-year-old gentle soul from Denver. Bennett is half-handyman, half-romantic. When he's not writing poetry, he's puttin' those big meaty hands to work, renovating rundown homes -- heeding Isaiah's words in the most literal sense, "Foreigners will rebuild your walls."
    Bennett, who won a municipal award for his work, can do it all, from roofing to flooring, electrical rewiring to carpentry. "We're working on our 269th house right now. Place needs a lot of work, doesn't even have a cupboard, so I'm building him one."
     No charge, of course. Carl's work, like everyone else's, is strictly voluntary, and the supplies, which can run into a lot of money, are covered by donations.  "Y'know, I used to carry around my toolbox and a bucket of paint on the bus. Now we've got a van."
     Christmas for these people is nothing like they're used to back home. Barry Denison, BFP's national director for Israel, mentions the lack of commercialism, the complete absence of buildup to the holiday, a status so low that Christmas is a normal working day. "It gives us an understanding of what it's like for Jews in Christian countries."
    Freddy Caldiron will celebrate Christmas away from home for the first time. But there's something about living here that you just don't get back home in Puerto Rico. "I can look out my apartment window, in Gilo, and see Bethlehem. I can't believe I'm so close to where Jesus was." 
    "Christmas here is very interesting," says Wagner, who's been here for two decades. "For one thing, there are three Christmases. No Santas. No radio marathons of Christmas carols bombarding you from every possible source, including elevators and telephones, when you're put on hold. In Israel, Christmas is  completely religious." And something else that really tickles Wagner -- the government's distribution of trees. "It should be a Trivial Pursuit question: 'What country gives free Christmas trees to the Christians?' Answer: 'the Jewish State.'"
    Wagner loves the anomalies of the country. Israel, he points out, is one of the world's leading producers of Christmas chocolates. "And you know where we get our Christmas decorations? Mea Shearim! They sell them at Succot time." Wagner laughs heartily. "Imagine, 'Noel' in the succa. Amazing!"