In Flight

We got a late start. Weather and all that. The pastor next to me moved back to more spacious accommodations, so the guy a seat over (an American who made aliyah when he was in high school then did his mandatory 3-year stint in the army) said, "We'll get there on time. The pilot probably has a mistress in Tel Aviv and she's expecting him to pick her up at seven."

We're over the Swiss alps now. Three hours to go. Nice meal. Great hummus. Early into the flight 8 ultra-Orthodox (10 constitutes a synagogue) gathered in the small space by the emergency exit and hallway a few seats in front of me. They were gearing up to pray, with all their accoutrements, when the turbulence hit and the fasten seat belt sign came on. They really started rocking back and forth then. A steward told them to sit down. They ignored him. The guy next to me rolled his eyes, leaned over and said, "They think God's on their side. That nothing will happen to them. They don't give a ____!" Hmmm. The two sides of Israel. Secular and Sacred. With some stuck in between. (They did eventually sit down.)

The tension reminds me of a story in the book, Real Jews. The ultra-Orthodox chief rabbi concluded that flying over a certain cemetery constituted ritual defilement by a dead body so El Al would need to alter their flight path. They were not so keen to do this so the U.Orthodox made plans to don full-zip-up body bags in flight to prevent contamination. El Al changed their flight path. The same author referended a light-hearted, but telling, exchange between flight staff during an in-flight prayer time like the one in front of me. "You open the door," one whispered, "and I'll push."

I guess there are a lot of different ways to be Jewish.

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