Living with danger
When I attended this year’s first Rosh Hashanah service, there was a lot to like. Rabbi S made great remarks, the congregation had a new cantor, and the siddur was filled with moving liturgy. But there was also The Strange Man.
About twenty minutes into the service (I was sitting in the very back), the strange man joined me. He wore shorts and a black top. He wore no kippah. He had no siddur in his hand. And when he planted himself three or four seats down from me and proceeded to do nothing except sit and watch, I started to wonder, “Is this guy armed?”
I don’t like thinking this way, but there it is. Experiencing the world Jewishly, as Rabbi S suggested I do, means living with the very real possibility that someone with a bent brain and a weapon can end your life simply because they think you’re less than human.
Eventually, one of the policemen guarding the synagogue took an interest and began watching the man as well. Nothing happened, but I found it distressing regardless. Yet this is what I’m signing up for: a lifetime of observing others for signs of potential violence.
There was a lot to like, but darkness, too. Rosh Hashanah is a time of happiness and renewal. But a (thankfully nonexistent) threat tainted this event. It is more likely than not that it isn’t the last time. And that’s something I need to learn to live with. This year and every year following.