A Pop Quiz To Get Into Synagogue
http://tabletmag.com/scroll/189142/a-pop-quiz-to-get-into-synagogue
Leaving in a light drizzle, I began to cry. The streets of London arent like those of New York City, where crying in public is par for the course, almost a right of passage. I clasped one hand over my mouth and the other to my gut, pulling my sorrow back inward.
I tried to name my sorrow as I walked to lunch. I have had to prove my Judaism before, and in ways far more painful. But never had I done so in order to simply enter a shul. Never had shibboleth been needed in order for me to pray in community. The questions were like those asked by El Al security before a flight to Israel.
It was both the act of proving my identity and the dark reality of why I was being asked to do so that had me fighting the urge to sink into the pavement on that gray Saturday. I cried for the security Id left behind as an American Jew, and for those who could not fathom it.
Two Shabbatot later, another shooting, another dead Jew in a synagogue in Europe. Both soldiers and armed volunteers adorn our houses of worship. Who stands outside of yours?