Conversations Around My Sabbath Table

Most people indulge happily in wonderful theological discussions around the Sabbath table on Friday nights - either with guests or just with their family. MY Sabbath table discussion went something like this.

Son: Man, that soccer ball hit me hard in the eggs.

laughter

Hubby looks confused. I explain:

"In the US they call them "nuts" and in Israel they call them "eggs" because perhaps they're bigger here. Who knows?

Hubby: So what do they call them in Nigeria then? Coconuts?

more laughter

At least there's laughing going around the table even if no intelligent conversation is forthcoming. The kids don't want to hear about my constant rendezvous with Palestinians. The meeting I had today was so uplifting, I didn't care that they didn't want to hear but I told them anyways about our trip to the Israel Museum this morning. We were a group of nine people visiting the exhibit of Isaiah's Scroll of Peace, walked around the exhibit of art looted by the Nazis during the Holocaust and discussed the prophet Isaish over coffee later on.

Son: Are they allowed to go into the Israel Museum?

Me: Yes, if they have permits!

Daughter: Who gives them the permits?

Me: Our interfaith organization requests permits from the army.

Daughter: MUM! The army is going to come here and question you.

Me: Let them question me, bug my phone, whatever they want. I've got nothing to hide. In fact, the army, the government, everyone in bureaucracy - they're all invited to my meetings to see what I do here.

Daughter: And you think this small group of people will bring about peace?

Me: Well, once you see what goes on in the meetings, it's pretty contagious. We're not the only interfaith meetings around. They're so many groups that aren't these angry political groups.

Daughter's Boyfriend: What do you think about Tali Fahima?

Me: What about her? She visits with families of Palestinian terrorists in their mourning tent. I'd never do that - not with Jewish or Arab terrorists. A terrorist is a terrorist. She's crazy and she's angry and she's anti-Israeli. I'm not anything like that!

Daughter: Why doesn't she just convert to Islam?

Me: That's not too difficult to do. I think I already might have.

They all look at me like I'm crazy and continue eating silently. I remember sitting around the Israel Museum coffee shop this morning in conversation with a teacher and pharmacist from Abu Dis how I do believe that there is only one God and I also believe that Mohammad is one of God's prophets. They seemed amused, while I asked them, "doesn't that make me an instant Moslem?"

How I do look forward to these conversations around the Sabbath table each week!