Friends,
I am just back from an incredible two weeks in Italy with my husband Adam’s entire extended family. We got to visit with his Italian relatives and spend wonderful time with Adam’s brother and his partner, and with my in-laws. It was a trip Adam, our kids, and I will not soon forget. The gelato withdrawal is real!
It may surprise you to learn that when I am traveling, I really love visiting old churches. Beyond their beauty, there is so much you can glean about a culture and its history from the way they relate to their religion and construct their houses of faith. My college semester abroad in Paris and my program’s weekly class trip to the Louvre (bien sûr!) further cemented my appreciation for medieval religious artwork—show me a gilded triptych and I’m a happy rabbi!
My daughter, Nora, took a particular interest in understanding the art and iconography of the churches we visited. She was so curious to understand who all of the chubby babies were, why certain people seemed to have wings or glowing crowns, and why a certain man was bleeding, suspended from “those pieces of wood.” I did my best to conjure a 7-year-old-appropriate version of Catholic theology for her, and in no time flat, she was strolling through churches by my side, declaring “look, Mommy, there are Jesus and Mary again!”
Toward the end of our trip, we visited the Great Synagogue in Florence. It is a spectacularly beautiful building, one which evidences the power of the pre-Holocaust Jewish community there, and which still plays host to a small but committed Orthodox congregation today. The truth is, an Orthodox, Moorish revival synagogue dating back to the late 1800s is ostensibly as foreign to my kids as any of the churches we visited. But after wandering through the building for the better part of an hour, Nora came up to me and said, unprompted, “Mommy, I really like this place – it’s beautiful, and I liked the churches too, but this one feels like it’s special just for us.”
And indeed, it was. In that entirely unfamiliar space, we nevertheless felt like we belonged. And after all of the gorgeous churches, it felt so good to come home, to a place just for us.
Have you had travel experiences where you encountered Jewish communities and felt an unexpected sense of belonging? What’s a place where you feel most at home? I’d love to hear from you.
With wishes for a peaceful Shabbat –
With love from my family to yours –
Buon Shabbat,
Rabbi Klein