How Jew Are You?
I was at my gate at LAX - with Sally Jaye, awaiting our delayed flight to Charlotte. From our seats I could see an Hassidic man standing and facing in my direction. There was something that looked like a head lamp from that distance - on his head - with long cascading leather straps that he wrapped around his arms and through his fingers. Something for prayers I trust. Shortly there-after I watched the elaborate process of unwrapping himself, then wrapping the thing up and kissing it before putting it away. Not long after, “by divine providence” he would say, he took the seat next to me. He asked if I was Jewish. [Yup]. He took the thing out of his bag along with his Talis prayer shawl and asked if I knew what it was. [Nope]. Apparently, something he received at his Bar Mitzvah. And through divine providence, he finds himself sitting next to me - and maybe would I like him to show me how to use the box thing and receive a blessing. It would only take a minute. In moments like these I remember what it felt like to be in the American Boychoir - to be in some church somewhere in the country on tour - and when it was time in the service for the congregation to receive communion, to consider going up to receive the sacrament myself - mostly convinced that I’d be struck by lightening if I did such a thing. I looked him square I the eye and apologized and told him I wasn’t comfortable with doing such a thing, but that I would like to know his name. Rabbi Moshe Levin - has a synagogue downtown. We talked a bit about music - about country music and traditional Hassidic music. and then it was time to board. Insert deep and reflective proclamation about religion and practice here. And now I’m on the plane - close to the end of the flight. Heading east this time of day up this high you get those 5 minute sunsets. Always slightly unsettling. We’re through the cloud ceiling now - city lights visible below. See you soon, Ashville.
