An Orthodox Jew (And Then Some) Walked Into A (Gay) Bar (To Mourn Orlando)
In the wake of the Pulse mass murder, some D.C. orthodox Jews ("modern Orthodox") went to a gay bar to show their support, reports their rabbi, Shmuel Herzfeld, in the WaPo:

When our synagogue heard about the horrific tragedy that took place at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, it was at the same time that we were celebrating our festival of Shavuot, which celebrates God's giving of the Torah.

As Orthodox Jews, we don't travel or use the Internet on the Sabbath or on holidays, such as Shavuot. But on Sunday night, as we heard the news, I announced from the pulpit that as soon as the holiday ended at 9:17 p.m. Monday, we would travel from our synagogue in Northwest Washington to a gay bar as an act of solidarity.

We just wanted to share the message that we were all in tremendous pain and that our lives were not going on as normal. Even though the holiday is a joyous occasion, I felt tears in my eyes as I recited our sacred prayers.

I had not been to a bar in more than 20 years. And I had never been to a gay bar. Someone in the congregation told me about a bar called the Fireplace, so I announced that as our destination. Afterward, I found out it was predominantly frequented by gay African Americans.

Approximately a dozen of us, wearing our kippot, or yarmulkes, went down as soon as the holiday ended. Some of the members of our group are gay, but most are not. We did not know what to expect. As we gathered outside, we saw one large, drunk man talking loudly and wildly. I wondered whether we were in the right place. Then my mother, who was with me, went up to a man who was standing on the side of the building. She told him why we were there. He broke down in tears and told us his cousin was killed at Pulse. He embraced us and invited us into the Fireplace.

We didn't know what to expect, but it turned out that we had so much in common. We met everyone in the bar. One of the patrons told me that his stepchildren were actually bar-mitzvahed in our congregation. Another one asked for my card so that his church could come and visit. The bartender shut off all of the music in the room, and the crowd became silent as we offered words of prayer and healing. My co-clergy Maharat Ruth Friedman shared a blessing related to the holiday of Shavuot, and she lit memorial candles on the bar ledge. Then everyone in the bar put their hands around each other's shoulders, and we sang soulful tunes. After that, one of our congregants bought a round of beer for the whole bar.

I write in "Good Manners For Nice People Who Sometimes Say F*ck" about how we didn't evolve to be around strangers or feel empathy for them -- but also how little it takes for us to come to feel empathy and reach out to them.

Per the research of David DeSteno and Piercarlo Valdesolo, this simply takes recognizing -- in the smallest way -- how a stranger is like you. Like that they must like chocolate or have a dog or cat (as you do) or go to the same local coffee place you do.

It really is that simple -- and necessary, in a world where we're surrounded by strangers and people who are different from us a whole lot of the time.

via @AliceDreger