You know how hard it is to keep track of what day it is when on vacation? Well, I know yesterday was Sunday because we went to Sunday brunch and then to an African-American United Methodist Church for worship. The congregation was small, very welcoming and warm. The music and the preaching were a breath of fresh air for midwesterners raised to keep emotions under wraps.
The rest of the day was quiet. We napped during the warm part of the day, then visited a colonial cemetery. Union soldiers, including our ancestor, Fred Hess, camped there at the end of the Civil War. After supper we did some people watching in Forsythe Park, another spot mentioned by our soldier ancestor in his letters home.
Later my sister and I walked around the historic district and passed the synagogue, shown above. In 1865 Soldier Fred called this building’s predecessor “a fine building.” The congregation is the third oldest in the country.
A security guard stood in front of the present synagogue. We nodded to him and walked along the building’s northern side. About halfway down, there were glass doors and the lights were on. I walked closer to window peek. “Jolene,” my sister said. “The security guard is coming.” I moved away real quick. As we walked past more windows, I saw people standing inside. “It’s Passover weekend,” I remembered.
Then I was a little sad. Earlier in the day, we were welcomed into a culturally different congregation with open arms. But this Jewish congregation needed a security guard during the celebration of their holiest day. The disparity haunts me.
What’s the difference? Why?
