Let us celebrate the festival, not with the old yeast, the yeast of malice and evil, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth. ~1 Corinthians 5:8
Modern Jerusalem has department stores, traffic lights and WiFi. We wander through city streets, noticing the accessories that announce religious affiliation like the proclamation of a boundary: the fedoras and side curls of the Hasidim, the straight-sided hats and long beards of the Eastern Orthodox, the robes of the Muslims. I realize that my khakis and ballcap brand me as a Westerner. They demarcate the line: this is where I am from. We repeatedly pass a sign for the Holy Bagel Bakery. The sign becomes a landmark, strangely reassuring because it tells us where we are. Bagels know no boundaries.
What boundary might you cross today?
Prayer: O Creator, I crave your bread.
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