On the eve of Rosh Hashanah I ended up in a catholic church on Mulberry Street. Coincidence? According to the Canadian nun, who relentlessly searched for a bathroom for me, of course not. God has plans.
There was a vigil in the church in the battle against abortion, that was the reason I was there, to report on abortion as one of the ultimate American battlefields – it seems that most Christians in Europe don’t lose much sleep over it, but Europe is not the US – and the charming Canadian nun told me that she had been in Amsterdam, shortly before she fell in love with the Lord.
The way she spoke about the Lord and also how she looked at me, I could suddenly understand that the Lord might be an extremely sexy being. Something that is unthinkable in Judaism.
I had to leave the church, went home and searched for an apple and some honey in my kitchen.