The strangeness of surroundings.

Services were swell tonight. Quiet and light (except the sermon, of course, which was heavy on the Israel conflict -- "Israel is only popular in death and defeat"). The strangest thing? The services (because there are a bajillion people who attend) were at a Methodist church. The weirdest thing was sitting through the superJewish services with a copy of the "Holy Bible" with a giant cross on it sitting right in front of me in the pew. Then there were the plaques on the walls around the sanctuary proclaiming the glory of certain people who served Jesus Christ as good Christians. Oh, and the kicker? The Ulysses S. Grant plaque. I wanted to place a big blanket over it like the crosses that were covered up around the sanctuary.

I know I shouldn't be picky. Services are services no matter where they're held. There were kippot and oodles of Jewish bubbes, but ... I miss my shul in Lincoln. I miss the comfort of knowing everyone. This temple is too huge to know anyone. I walked around the oneg grabbing honey cake and apples and stood alone near the exit, hoping someone would say "hello! who are you!?" but everyone seemed to know everyone else. So I stood, and I left.

I guess I just need a shul buddy.

Shabbat Shalom v'Shana Tova!