The Rabbi's Flock Part 1

A DOVE BY ANY OTHER NAME WOULD BE A PIGEON

When I went to San Francisco earlier this year, I met Brian's friends Helisa and her sister Debra-- both Jewish lesbians. One thing Brian told me about them is that growing up they used to make up songs to keep them occupied. One of his favorites was their ditty about pigeons:

Pigeons, they know what to do
Pigeons, they fly
Pigeons, they eat lots of food
Pigeons, they ain't shy

We began to sing this too and then added some new lyrics:

Pigeons, they know what to do
Pigeons, they poop
Pigeons, they eat lots of food
Pigeons, throw you for a loop

This song has become even more meaningful after our daily walks to the gym because we pass this unassuming duplex with a small fenced in yard. Their is one large tree in her yard, but little grass. On any given day at any given hour their are at least 40 pigeons hanging around on the roof, in the yard on the ground or in the tree. Often there are two cats lounging on the steps or in a nearby bush. One can only imagine what they are plotting. Less pleasant is the copious amounts of pigeon poop that covers the area.

Brian explained there is a woman who lives in the house that feeds the pigeons daily. I wanted to see this sight, but Brian didn't know when the feeding ritual happens, just that she was known in the neighborhood and a nuisance to some of her neighbors. Walking by at various times did not yield anything.

Until one early evening, I had just picked Brian up for work. He commented on the shirt I was wearing. It was one that I had bought in Jerusalem on pilgrimage. In fact, it was a shirt that fostered plenty of interesting conversation earlier that day. In Waimanalo, when I finished at the ranch I stopped at a local art gallery. This woman behind the counter asked what my shirt meant. I told her it said Peace in Hebrew, Arabic, and of course English. I explained I got it on a trip that fostered understanding between Muslims, Christians and Jews. "Christians and Muslims? Why do we need to understand them? All they want is war and killing." I played dumb and asked, "Who? The Christians or the Muslims?"

Indignant,she shook her head, her blond curls bounced and her wrinkled face scrunched up further,"The Muslims, of course." I explained that we all have misunderstandings and that if we really want to end war and killing, we have to learn about each other and make connections. This 5 second simplistic explanation did not mollify her. She squinted at me and said, "Well, which one are you?" "Jewish." "Well, at least that means you are one of God's chosen people. Jesus was a Jew, you know." I resisted the temptation to say, "Who?" I just nodded wanting to leave. "My son is a pastor and he says the Jews are blessed, but we are waiting for them to accept the Truth." I smiled and knowing that nothing positive was going to be accomplished, I wished her well and left.

On my way back into Honolulu, I stopped at Barnes and Noble to buy a controversial novel called My Holocaust by Tova Reich. She pokes fun at victim culture and those who are in the Holocaust "business". It is a scathing satire that may irk many fellow Jews, so far it is good, but not excellent. Anyways, when I was making my purchase, a Chinese woman behind the counter smiled wide and said, "Shalom! I love Jewish people. Are you Jewish?" "Yes!" "Well, do you go to Shabbat?" I paused wondering how much to say and she took the pause as a no. "Oh, you should try shabbat it is so much fun." I told her I was a rabbi and she said that I must meet her pastor at the synagogue she goes to, "Daniel Yeshua somethingorother". Yeshua, huh. Before I could ask her, she beat me to it. "Do you believe in the Messiah?" "Yes, but probably not the same one. I assume you go to a Messianic synagogue." She nodded and began to invite me. I thanked her and declined. It was hard to be annoyed with her as she was very sweet and well meaning.

So when Brian commented on liking the shirt, I joked that I would never wear it again. But I kept in on for an evening run down Waikiki beach. Out of breath, and slowed to a walk three blocks from the apartment, there she was coming into the yard with 5 loaves of bread and a big bag of crumbs. I looked up and there was a sea of white. At least 500 pigeons surrounded the house. As she tossed the pieces of bread, there was a fluttering of mostly white wings. I have never seen anything like this. Even in the center of Venice, where the pigeons are infamous did not compare to seeing so many in such a small space. I watched in awe as did the cats.

I stood still close to the fence. A man walked by and remarked to his wife just in earshot, "Too bad we don't have our camera. That guy was wearing a peace shirt in the midst of the fluttering of all those doves. Pretty amazing."

Maybe I will wear it again.