27/9/99

Gentile Judeomania

    It's a crazy thing, this orgiastic lovefest called the Feast of the Tabernacles. Christians loving Jews! What a concept!
    We can't even tolerate ourselves, yet these people come here from 100 countries to hug us to pieces, perform amorous acts of ardor upon our beleaguered Zionist State, and bless every last one of us from head to toe.
     Jews do not feel comfortable with Christians who love us. It's unnatural. Antisemitism we can cope with, but (one has to invent a word for this) philosemitism has us wondering what the catch is.
    OK, I figured, if the goyim are going to insist on adoring us, this I gotta see. I attended their big event at Jerusalem's convention center on Saturday night. It was daring, I know: I tend not to enter a place together with  5,000 rapturous Christians. What if they find me out? 
    The assembled didn't need much to get going. When the piped-in music played "Hava Nagila," the place was crackling. They leapt to their feet for "Heveinu Shalom Aleichem" and in no time there was wall-to-wall rhythmic clapping, dancing in the aisles, roaring applause -- and the program hadn't even started yet.
    The esprit de corps never let up, and when, like a sea, the red curtains parted, there was a mass gasp of delight. High above, against a biblical backdrop, an Abrahamic figure in tallit tilted a huge silver-coated shofar heavenward and a trumpet blast mobilized the symphonics, chorals and banner-waving dancers.  
    It had all the sensual elements to trigger primal exhilaration: drums and brass, glittering attire, whirling beauties, emotive religious visuals, stirring spiritual song and exhorting evangelistic speakers. And the audience fed off it. I quote: "WOOOOOOOOO-EEEEEEE!!!"
    "Lord, we love you!" cried the man at the mike.
    The faithful responded: "Yes, Lord!"
    "Amen! Amen!"
    I noticed a stunning blonde in the crowd, and instantly recalled the biblical passage, "The nations of the world shall bring comfort to Zion." I wondered if she was religious enough to obey the Holy Word and meet me afterward in some cozy corner of Zion.
    "Hallelujah JEEsus!" the man behind me proclaimed, which segued strangely with the words coming down from the podium: "Baruch haba b'shem adonai..."
    To a procession of lulavs -- IMMENSE lulavs -- lilting spirituals filled the great hall: "Hosanna, hosanna, hosanna in the highest; Glory, glory, glory to the King of kings."
    One of the congregants hollered "AWRIGHT JERUSALEM!" (probably an American). A few trembled trance-like. Some were teary-eyed, many mumbled glory-be's.
    "God brought us here," we were informed, and the Lord was roundly praised. But The Blessed One Praised Be He needed help, as He does not deal in hard currency, and it is money that got these people here. Happily, goodly Christians from the richest countries pitched in to help bring their brethren from the poorest countries.
    The roll-call of nations was reminiscent of any global gathering, except here there was no sense of the nationalist-chauvinist "us" and "them," because they were all One. The brotherly spirit was real. Americans cheered the Chinese, the British and French cheered each other, and in this Christian microcosm, the Israelis were absolutely beloved.
    When the delegate from Panama was introduced, the woman next to me cracked, "What, no Palestine?"
    I could give you 99 guesses and you wouldn't hit on which was the largest delegation, with over 600 pilgrims. Hint: their country officially hates us.
    Indonesia!
    Each country's introduction was accompanied by a few warm words, bestowing on each one a specialness. When there wasn't anything notable to say, the representative was blessed for "bringing their nation's glory and honor to Israel."
    Martinique, Mozambique. 
    Tibet, Togo, Tonga.
    Burundi earned special applause for the flag its delegate brought on stage: in its center, three Magen Davids.
    Even hot-spot East Timor was here, but perhaps in political deference to the multitudes from Indonesia, it was not introduced as a separate entity.
    The colorful cavalcade of the world's peoples trooped on stage, many in national dress: the Canadian in a Mountie uniform, a wondrously swathed Korean, the Bermudan in Bermuda shorts (and kipa!).
    Two of the nations were borderless: the Romany Peoples (Gypsies), and the ultimate show-stoppers, the First Nations of America -- 90 Native Americans, who took over the stage in full regalia reflecting the full array of tribes. They didn't just light their candle and walk off: they danced and chanted and jolted the air with the rhythmic pounding of ceremonial drums, which combined nicely with the chika-chika of tambourines rattling throughout the hall.
    I met my first Cherokee Zionist. "Where are you from?" I asked naively.
    "North America," he answered.
    "Yes, but which part?"
    "All of it," he smiled.
    A bearded man wearing white-feather headdress and beaded costume -- otherwise he was mostly naked -- introduced himself to me as Mozart Blue Thundercloud McAlister, pride of the Cree Nation. "I've had a love for Yisrael for 10 years," he said earnestly. He came here from Vancouver "to bless Israel." He wore his sentiments on his arm -- literally. Scripted in blue and red into his skin were the words from two biblical passages.
    A lovely young Finn came over to us presspeople to stress that we should not interpret the proceedings as missionizing. Clearly it was not, but she was concerned we might misunderstand the point of it all.
    There could be no doubt that their mission was intense religious juvenation in solidarity with pure Judeomania.
    Rather than crucifixes, people wore Jewish symbols -- as, I was told, is done back home as well; some of the men were wearing kipot; most people appeared to know the words to all the Hebrew songs and prayers, and they sang lustily. It could almost have been a Carlbach happening.
    These people are utterly delightful. Polite, respectful, clean-cut, joyful; I don't believe anyone could think of anything to complain about. No one slouched about in scruffy clothing. Women were women, and men were men. The only guys wearing earrings were the Native Americans.
     "Shema Yisrael..." They whispered the words, eyes closed, hands raised, hearts open.
    They expressed practical religious Zionism with the Prayer For Rain.
    Spiritualism swept the throngs. "Glory, Glory Hallelujah," they sang, holding hands aloft and swaying, every one of the 5,000. 
    From the microphone came a blessing for "the countries not represented here, that do not have the gospel as a light shining in their nations."
    "Amen. Amen."
    Alas, one nation not represented was Botswana. It was supposed to be. Three Kalahari Bushmen walked -- walked! -- 1,000 miles to come to Jerusalem. After months of trekking through Africa, they got to the precipice of the Holy Land, and they were stopped by visa problems in Egypt. They were turned back.
    They could take comfort, though, in knowing it happened before.
    They had followed in the footsteps not taken ... of Moses.