It was Friday at sundown, which marks the
beginning of Shabbat.
Shabbat is very important in the
Jewish religion. It means a day of rest, and occurs weekly. The majority of
Israel shuts down on Shabbat. No cars are on the road, no cell phones are used,
no technology whatsoever.
Walking the streets of Jerusalem,
lost, I asked a man for directions. I was running late to Shabbat dinner, very
flustered.
The man left his family at home to
walk me two miles to my destination. Along the way, a young man came up to us.
He asked if we knew of anywhere to have Shabbat dinner, because his friends
never showed up.
The man guiding me said, “Yes, I do.
Come with me. We’ll eat dinner at my home.”
Just like that. I was shocked.
This was my first trip to Israel,
and honestly, I was a bit nervous to enter a country that is constantly at war.
I had just figured that the people’s attitudes must be rotten due to their
living situations.
But this; this I had not expected.
Picking up a man off the street? With
so much kindness and respect towards one another? Inviting him into your home?
I’ve never seen anything like it.
Finally, we reached the house where
I would eat. As I thanked them both for their generosity, they asked when I had
arrived. I told them just last week. The two men smiled and replied, “Welcome
home.”
