In Tel Aviv, Jews join with Muslims in vigil mourning New Zealand dead

Published in RNS

TEL AVIV — Dozens gathered outside the New Zealand embassy in Tel Aviv Sunday night for a somber candlelight vigil to commemorate the victims of Friday’s (March 15) mass shootings at two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand.

“We are a small, bright light at the end of a dark tunnel,” Sheikh Abdallah Nimr Badr said of the event, which was organized by Tag Meir, an all-volunteer Jewish organization dedicated to ending extremist violence in Israel, in collaboration with local Muslim leaders and Israeli-Arab college students at Al-Qasemi Academy.

“We must eradicate this sort of behavior if we are going to live in peace. I hope one day we will be able to walk in the streets feeling safe and free of fear,” Sheikh Badr added.

Other local Muslim and Jewish leaders recited prayers of healing and solidarity in Hebrew and Arabic, while nine Muslim students from Al-Qasemi Academy in Haifa held placards in silence, letting photographs of the slain victims and messages reading “Stop Islamophobia” speak for themselves.

Men participate in a small vigil outside the New Zealand embassy in Tel Aviv, Israel, on March 17, 2019. Photo courtesy of Natacha Larnaud

The vigil was part of an overwhelming interfaith response to the attack during Friday prayers, which left at least 50 worshippers dead and dozens more injured. In New Zealand, several synagogues were closed on the Sabbath in solidarity with the Muslim community, and in Pittsburgh, the Jewish Federation of Greater Pittsburgh set up a fund for the victims of the mosque attacks, similar to last October’s crowdfunding campaign “Muslims Unite for Pittsburgh Synagogue,” which raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for families affected by the Tree of Life massacre.

In a meeting with Muslim community leaders in Wellington, New Zealand, Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern confirmed that Friday’s attack was the deadliest in the country’s history, adding that investigators were racing to identify the victims of the shooting spree so that they can be buried as quickly as possible, in accordance with Muslim burial tradition.

“When fanatics make the most noise, our voice is silenced,” warned Rabbi Esteban Gottfried, director of the Beit Tefilah Israeli community in Tel Aviv. Midway through his televised speech, Gottfried encouraged the crowd to sing an altered version of the popular song, “Oseh Shalom,” (“A Prayer for Peace”), adding Ishmael, a reference to the biblical patriarch in Muslim tradition and first son of Abraham, to Hu Ya’aseh shalom aleynu v’al kol Israel v’Ishmael (he will make peace for us and for all Israel and Ishmael).


Thanking God for the big things – and the little ones – at a Harlem church

At the Ephesus Seventh-Day Adventist Church on Lenox Avenue and 123rd Street, the ground was shaking as Pastor Lawrence Brown paced to the crimson-red podium on the stage, armed with his iPad and Bible app. The subway train passing underneath the church caused the rumble, but Alvaro Stewart, a Costa-Rican builder next to me, said that the ground-breaking sound effects made the service “more biblical.” Brown wore a black turtleneck sweater and blue jeans to complete the modern look. The elevated stage was lined with a stunning arrangement of nine oval pots of artificial flowers, alternating red and white, with a U.S. flag on each end.

Stewart had just eaten dinner with the pastor, a meal consistent with the Adventist belief of maintaining a healthy body, mind and spirit. Meat, alcohol and coffee were off the menu, which is why, combined with a day of rest on Saturdays, “we live on average five to 10 years longer than non-Adventists worldwide,” Stewart adds.

Thirteen members of the predominantly African-American community showed up to the Wednesday evening service, far from the 1,300 regulars who fill the spired, two-story Harlem church every Sabbath.

(Photo courtesy of Renee Nixon Simmons)

“Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go,” Brown began chanting, as a West African pianist to the left of the stage played a rendition of the eponymous hymn. “Anywhere with Jesus I am not alone,” everyone answered.

Following the song, Brown thanked the devoted dozen for attending the service in spite of the arctic cold and invited personal testimonies from the crowd. “Would anyone like to talk about the goodness of the Lord?” Brown asked. Customarily, congregants would in two or three minutes explore their relationship with the Almighty by offering examples of the ways God changed their life that day or week. They would thank the Lord for giving them the fortitude to overcome challenges threatening to distract or derail them.

The room was quiet.

Senses were heightened as an ambulance’s colorful, shrieking siren suddenly illuminated the stained-glass windows. The ground shook again, almost in frustration to the group’s momentary reticence. But in the far-right corner of the church, by a book-sized locked gold box inscribed with the words “offering,” an elderly woman aged 74 rose and shouted, “Thank you, Jesus.”

“I lost my wallet today,” she said.

Amen

“But I did not lose my soul. Peace, and bless the Lord.”

Amen, Amen

Then, a middle-aged, olive-skinned man from California, with a scarlet-red scarf draped over his white jumper, got up and thanked the Lord for his spiritual family at this church. “I’ve been away for a few months and it’s great to be home again,” he said.

Amen

Next, a young woman stood up in the front row by the wooden charity basket and thanked God for what he did to her that morning. “I was with my sister until late the night before, maybe 1:30 a.m.,” she said. “And our Savior woke me up at 6:00 a.m. this morning so that I could help my sister who had no heat or hot water in her apartment. My sister and I prayed together, and the Lord revived her water.”

Amen

And as Brown was about to gesture to the pianist to begin playing the hymn “When We All Get to Heaven,”  his personal favorite, an elderly man in a cream suit and tie gently got out of his seat with the help of his granddaughter. “I am happy to say that I just turned 90,” he said, his voice raspy. “But thanks to Jesus, I can walk and I can jump, and I hope we continue this fellowship.”