Meeting Elijah

Traveling with 30 people can be like trying to keep frogs in a barrel long enough to make it to the destination.

Making it through customs and out of the airport in Casablanca, we were challenged keeping it all together. One pilgrim was led a different way out of the airport so by the time we met our tour guide, Faed he was frazzled and we were all ready late.

Groggy from traveling, we rode on the bus adjusting to the sights.  We had a lovely (if not a tad cliché) dinner at Rick's Cafe.  My partner for the day was Amina, an Ismaili Muslim physician who was incredibly curious and interested in the world around her.

Arriving at the hotel, I convinced two pilgrims to join me on a 10 min walk to find the synagogue Beth El. Father Jeffrey Ott and Dr. Keith Wood who used to lead a Seventh Day Adventist informed community.  A fierce triad we were.

The first clue that this would be an adventure was that on my GPS app the address was on one street and the location symbol was on the next. Then as we started walking the bustling streets of Casablanca, my GPS stopped functioning.

Walking in the direction of the synagogue, three young men ran out in front of us and started fighting blocking our way.  The three of froze silently trying to assess the situation.  More men began to join the fight and I felt torn.  Wrestling with what was the responsibility of our own safety and of protecting another, especially as foreigners.

We wandered a good bit the wrong way but then found the right street.  There were a handful of places with high gates and no signage where I wondered if a synagogue took refuge behind those high walls.  Eventually on a small offshoot of the street we were on at the end of the street was a "beit menachem mendel".  I had found the Chabad. 

As we headed back four kittens ran out into street crying for food.  We made it back to the hotel only partially successful.

The next morning, two of the Jewish pilgrims asked if I had been successful in finding the synagogue.  We decided to head over.  We found the chabad again.  We were allowed in and heard the davening above as we explored the beit hamidrash.  We met a few of the Moroccan Jews and were on our way.

Jeffrey pointed to a gate saying that he thought a synagogue was behind the door.  Just before we headed across the street, a man appeared and walked to the gate and opened them.  Timing wise, it was like he was Elijah.

We approached, he was apprehensive at first but we explained we were Jews in broken French. He saw my yarmulke and let us into the beautiful courtyard.  We followed him into the sanctuary as he welcomed us in and Beth El was beautiful with stunning Chagall inspired stained glass windows with each tribe and beautiful chandeliers.

There's a sacred nature of space.  To be in Jewish space across the world binds us.  To add a blessing where my Moroccan brother and sisters had been before felt like an honor.  It was like encountering buried treasure.

Our Elijah was patient, it seemed as if he was the shamash. He appreciated our witness and excitement at discovering this spiritual home of our community. We embraced as we left. 

When seeking Jews around the world, there's almost always Elijah waiting to greet you.