Peasants and Scum

As is typical, days here in Jerusalem have there ups and downs. I am certainly adjusting to the culture and the people, a new language and a new home. This morning I started off the day with a run towards Old Jerusalem's Jaffa Gate. I sat under a bouganvilla-covered arbor on a bench overlooking the city, listening to Chris Tomlin on my ipod singing "the cross before, and the world behind..." I doubt he was sitting where I was when he wrote the song, but it took on a new meaning for me as I looked out on the spot where Christ indeed died on the cross for me. The world, behind me. I would call that a high point of my day.

I proceeded home, and spent the rest of the day sinking lower and lower. Today was one of Ryan's long days at school and so I was juggling three boys and homeschool (when this is not my forte...I am quite wimpy) in a strange land, and out of shekels to boot. There are some women at the park who are ultra-orthodox jews, and not that this is their culture, but certainly these women in particular are not kind. When I try to walk up to them, they walk away from me. Their children do not play with my children. Our landlord explained to me that here in Israel the way a person dresses will automatically categorize you. My conservative California clothing is considered quite heathen to the conservative Jew here. So I spent a lot of the day inside, fretting over my clothes, trying to figure out how to cover my entire body but stay comfortable in 90 degree weather. When I finally did get the courage to venture out to the park with the boys, I looked a little ridiculous in my outfit, a long dress with a hoodie and closed toe shoes. And still I sat alone on a park bench, watching the orthodox Jewish boys refuse to let my boys play soccer with them.

I am pretty sure I had repeated the mantras "why are we HERE??" and "is it July yet??" about 100 times when I overheard a woman on her cell phone on a bench next to mine. She was talking to a friend about a job opportunity that had come up for her (in English..I am not that proficient in hebrew yet!) in an area she wasn't sure she wanted to work in. She basically said that the area was full of peasants, and minority people groups and said she didn't really want to work with scum. I am finding that this is a place where lines are drawn between people on so many levels - religious, social, economic... her comment just helped to support that sentiment. Certainly the country of Israel and the people here in general are generous and welcoming. But the park near our apartment has not proved to be a place where those people spend their time. I have felt incredibly shunned and very much like "scum." At one point I was sitting on the bench obsessing over my outfit, thinking that maybe my dress should be down to my ankles and not just to my knees. Watching the other women react to me, and questioning my own morality. I started to wonder if that was how the Samaritan woman at the well (in the Bible) felt like. An outsider, shunned, the scum of the neighborhood.

Then I thought back to a Bible Study that I taught last year - our group studied the book "The Jesus I never knew." One Sunday morning we talked about whether or not we would be drawn to Jesus if we lived back when Jesus walked on earth. And none of us were really sure. Sitting there today, feeling like the peasant and the scum, I absolutely felt drawn to Jesus. I had such a longing to have someone show me kindness. To treat me like an equal, to love me and to be gracious to me. I can see why the people who followed him were largely the "ragamuffins" - the poor, the outcast, the sick. I could easily at that moment washed Jesus's feet with my tears, reached out for his robe, laid at his feet, had he walked into that park today.

I still dont know why we are here. I cannot say that at that low point in the park today I was happy to be here. But I can say that I am humbled as well as overcome by the great love that God has for me. I end the day on more of a low than a high...however one thing remains the same. The cross of His unconditional love and sacrifice, which he made for scum like me, lies ahead. And this world lies behind.

Not to us, but to His name be the glory.
Shalom,
Sara