Originally published 2/19/19
Jesus' mother was such a Jewish mother. Everyone should have a Jewish mother. Not the woman who physically gives birth to you, necessarily, but a literal Jewish woman in your life. They are bright, and loud, and loving, and hysterical and above all, they are always right. So you should always do as you are told by a Jewish mother. Isabel was lucky enough to have a Jewish mother. We met Tamar Paltrow Zwerdling as Isabel entered kindergarten at Stone Elementary School. Stone was one of those inner-city schools whose transformation into an arts magnet school in turn transformed the neighborhood. The North Main neighborhood was an old post war neighborhood just on the upswing of decline, where small houses were still affordable if you weren't terribly picky about your neighbors when we were lucky to live there after my divorce. The Zwerdlings had just moved to the neighborhood as well, fleeing toxic mold and traffic in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Mikayla, the oldest of their two children, was the shortest kid in Mrs. Bell's kindergarten class, and Isabel was the tallest. They immediately became the best of friends. Tamar loves Isabel and Mikayla's friendship, which mirrors her own childhood best friend, she said, a tall blonde shiksa, too. So Tamar was not surprised when the unlikely pair struck up a friendship. Tamar immediately adopted Isabel as a fixture in their family. Being a Jewish mother of no judgement and no history in Greenville, Tamar did not care that I was recently divorced. She had no skin in that game, and made it clear she didn't care about the adults' problems. She was only interested in creating a great childhood full of experience, inclusion and edification for the children in the North Main neighborhood.
Tamar (middle, orange shirt) is always surrounded by kids and parents, no matter where she goes.
Tamar does not care about typical Southern hangups, like race, gender preferences, and religious differences. She makes a phpfffped noise at those issues and waves them off with her hand. In her world, everyone is of and has value. And she insists that those around her understand that as well. She taught the kindergarten and first graders about the Holocaust, and celebrated Shabbat with whomever was in their house on Friday night. Isabel can say the Shabbat prayer in Hebrew, she heard it so many times. Tamar also took the girls to Christmas programs around town and ornament crafting days at Bob Jones University, the uber-conservative Christian college in the middle of Greenville (though she eventually had to call their Christmas activities to a halt when Sofia, the youngest, asked when were they going to put up a Christmas tree for all these ornaments they were making). Tamar built a Brownie and Girl Scout troop for a group of girls, many of whom, including Isabel and Mikayla, persevered for 8 years. It was the most enduring and meaningful experience of their childhood, I'll assert. Tamar led a host of moms in planning camping trips where we learned how to cook on a coffee can, about the ecology of a lake, where we talked about self esteem, and how to manage a cookie booth. High school took the girls in different directions - Governor's school, different county high schools, and Isabel to Tennessee with us. Those girls are all in college now, or on post-high school adventures. Just this past Christmas they had a Girl Scout troop reunion. Isabel said they cried. I know their friendships will endure for their lifetimes. They just don't know it yet. Tamar created that for them. If you were to think of a stereotypical Jewish mother, Tamar would be it. She expresses her opinion, and is willing to listen to yours, but you're probably wrong. And that's ok, because you are. She opines about things that are important, things that she knows and things that she's passionate about. The rest of it doesn't matter. When you're with Tamar, you know you're doing something that's meaningful, and something that's going to impact the rest of your life. And your children's lives. So you listen to her, and you do what she says. Tamar, too, is a child of divorce, and her mother is a lesbian. She was determined to marry a Jewish man, and met Kenny on an online dating site for Jews, and fought the end of the marriage. She eventually looked at what was important, though, and knew the marriage had to end. I had seen this unfolding on Facebook a couple of years ago, and went to visit her on one of my trips home from Tennessee. There was nothing I could do but sit in her living room and cry and thank her for the love she had shown me in my post-divorce years, when Isabel met Mikayla and their friendship formed. She phpfffped me, waved her hand, and said it's all good. Then she got breast cancer, the kind where she had to have a mastectomy, chemo and radiation. This isn't going where you think it is. She's a Jewish mother, remember? She now has loving partner, Michael, and they persevered last year through sickness and came into 2019 healthy. Mikayla is a freshman at art school in New York City, and Tamar spends many hours in chairs watching and cars waiting on Sofia as she auditions for ballet companies. I thought of Tamar as I re-read the story of the wedding at Cana, our next stop in Israel. This is significant because it was the first time that Jesus performed a miracle. And it was at his mother's request. Oddly, it was not a miracle of healing or raising from the dead - more dramatic miracles he would perform later - but a simple yet important miracle of hospitality and tradition. Shafiq, our tour guide, explained to us that in Israel, marriages aren't just events that happen from 2-5 p.m. on Saturday afternoon, like they do stateside. In their culture, the celebrations and the parties last for days, as long as a week, and there is always an abundance of food and drink available. (He laughed and said by the time the actual wedding occurs the bride and groom are bloated from so much celebrating they no longer fit in their wedding clothes.) So running out of wine was a serious issue, as water was not always potable in those days, either.
This is not the actual church where the wedding took place, but it is The Sanctuary of Our Lord's First Miracle in Cana, a church built on the site where it is believed the wedding might have taken place.
So Mary, who obviously knew that he would be able to do something about this, went to Jesus and asked him to solve the problem. Jesus talks back a bit, much like any son would to their mother.
“Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” John 2:4 I imagine at this point that Mary phpfffped him and waved her hand at him, because she ignored his sass, and assumed (rightly) that he would do as she asked, because she instructed the servants “Do whatever he tells you.” John 2:5. I love this part. He did what he was told by his Jewish mother. Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it...the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew)...John 2:7-9 The servants were of good Jewish stock as well (of course) and they probably smirked a little, knowing that it's a good thing that Jesus did what his mother said. What this also did, though, this simple act insisted upon by his mother, was solidify the disciples' belief. And his disciples believed that he really was the Messiah. John 2:11 As mothers, we all want our children to be the best person they can be. We also want other people to like them, and for them to be successful in their professions. I know that's why Tamar educated shiksas about the Holocaust, taught young girls how to cook on their own, and provided every opportunity for talent to develop. Mary wanted those disciples to really believe in her son, so they could fully and without reservation support him. See? Even the Son of God got a little help from a Jewish mother.
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