The Calm After The Storm- A Lesson in Conflict

I’ve always been pretty accepting of people from other faiths and communities. While my commitment to Judaism is strong, I love discussions about other faiths- the ideas that others have about their religion, where they came from, what it is about that religion that enables them to feel secure and strong.

But I was hit with a challenge this week after an individual from our cohort tragically lost a loved one- while her mother is Jewish, her father is not, and this girl, closely connected to her father’s heritage (of a sect of Christianity, I believe) placed a photo of the virgin Mary at the entrance of the Beit Adamah. She felt connected to the virgin Mary, or to that particular photo, and that in order to go through with the grieving process, and cope with her loss, to display this photo in public.

I’ve never lived with someone who was not Jewish, aside from a short period of time when I had returned home to California and stayed with my mom, who had rented out a bedroom to a goy (non-Jew). But my mom was the head of the household, and held her Kashrut (Kosher laws) to strict standards in order to comply with the Jewish law of keeping Kosher.

When I came to Adamah, I did not expect to butt heads with someone who also feels strongly about her religious faith. This program believes in pluralism, acceptance, and openness. But I didn’t think it went this far. How do I cope with a situation where the virgin Mary is displayed in the same room as siddurim (prayer books) and chumashim (Bible)? What happens when I want to pray or learn in that room, when an image of that which goes against my religion is staring me in the face? In a Jewish home shared among young Jews from various backgrounds, hoping to connect to Judaism in some way through the Adamah program, what does this image represent?

I’ve probably had three of the most difficult conversations I’ve ever had when I sat down with this girl, one time with a mediator, two times without, delving into my beliefs, explaining why her gesture was uncomfortable for me, and allowing her to explain her side of the story- that being that the picture of Mary was not meant to represent Jesus or Christianity, but rather her friend, who had given her this photo, the only physical memory she’d had of this girl.

There was drama, gossip, tension, anger, and resentment for the few days between our first conversation and our final discussion- people who should not have gotten involved did, and this issue blew up into something I had never expected when I first arrived at Adamah. I didn’t want to be at odds with members of my program, yet I had felt the Beit Adamah was no longer a safe space. I felt my religious faith was being threatened by a photo so admired by a specific community, one that has persecuted Jews for so many years.

I learned a lot over the last few days- I learned that an image does not necessarily represent what I think it does; I learned how to sensitively approach a topic so deeply tied to someone, particularly when it involves someone who is coping with death; I learned that when something occurs that I feel threatens my identity- religiously, or on another level, it helps to look within  myself to figure out why I’m feeling threatened- is it the image itself, or does it reflect more about my personal journey and my individual tie to Judaism?

It’s a feeling of the calm after the storm. This girl and I have had the difficult conversations, and I believe it’s made me stronger, and created potential for a friendship in the midst of our differences.