Edges

I remember in a seminary class talking about "limnal" places. Edges. Margins. A condition of being in two places, or in no place. Often a stage in transformation. I don't remember much else about it or why it came up (hopefully the professor isn't reading this)

This mission business is funny. Funny/peculiar that is. I'm still very new at it, a little short of 6 months now, but some traits of the life seem to be revealing themselves. From day to day, you're never really sure about anything. Planning is pointless, as are Goals and Expectations. What you pay attention to in life is very different than it used to be. And you don't quite really belong anywhere. Ever a foreigner here, you also begin to feel estranged from what used to be "home".

I notice these things only lately. I notice I am less inclined to post blogs. A friend who has been here for several years now told me recently that she thinks this is part of the process and also indicative of it. You find that you seem to be saying the same things over and over, and realize nothing has changed. The Occupation is still here, people are still suffering...what new is there to say?

But it was more revealing to me that she said she believes this also indicates a separation from the people you're writing to. Your thoughts are with them less and more with the people you're among now. Living on the edge of the two places. I realize this is true. I think less and less of "home". I think more and more of my life and friends here. Gradually - very gradually - I speak more Arabic and less English during the day.

Friends recently sent me some summer clothes I had put aside before leaving the US. Opening the box when it arrived here was strange. They were my clothes but they seemed alien. I've been wearing the same 2 pairs of jeans and the same 4 or 5 shirts for nearly 6 months now - why do I need all these extra, nice shirts?? It was a glimpse at a life I hardly recognized.

I begin to think of staying on after my one-year commitment is completed. But then I remember Planning is Pointless, as are Goals and Expectations. So for now I will go on being where I am, on this edge.

Something that always puzzled me about the Gospels, and annoyed me a little, was why the Disciples seem to be such bumbling fools. They never really get it, do they? They don't understand the parables, they sleep when they shouldn't, they argue about who Jesus is and about who gets to sit next to him. Nowadays, I realize that the Disciples are my brothers. I begin to understand why they're always confused and never quite sure what's going on. They're on mission. But they keep going don't they? I think that's the point. Through all the uncertainty and confusion, they manage to keep hearing whatever is calling them on, and something - perhaps beyond all common sense or reason - will not let them go back to the life they had before.

Here we say "Inshallah". God willing.

Jerusalem Panorama

It's turned spring here and on a beautiful afternoon recently, I went walking with camera in hand. I went West which is the Israeli/predominantly Jewish side of Jerusalem. The East, where I live, is mostly Palestinian/Arab, although with more and more appropriation by Israelis occurring. These national/ethnic/religious categories can be very confusing at first.

In any case, I thought I'd show some views of the West Side, which is very, very different, when I stumbled upon a Christians for Israel rally going on. The 60th anniversary of the establishment of Israel comes up next month, so these kinds of events will become quite common soon. One wonders how much of the true situation here these visitors see, or how much they care.

In any event, enjoy the photos in the slideshow. Captions offer some commentary. Just click on the slideshow to see all photos and their captions.

Little People

As it is for many people, "Casablanca" is one of my favorite movies. Nearly every scene has become iconic, but I'm thinking today of the closing sequence at the fog-shrouded Casablanca airport. Rick Blaine (Bogart) has found nobility and is off to work in the WW II resistance movement. The story has told us that he found his way to this decision out of his unrequited love for the ineffably beautiful Ilsa Lund (Ingrid Bergman). As we hear the scored "As Time Goes By" for the last time, Rick tells Ilsa that where he is going she can't follow and what he has to do she can't be any part of. But they'll always have Paris. Then he says that he has learned that the lives of two little people don't amount to a hill-of-beans in this crazy, mixed-up world.

This has become an ethos for us, hasn't it? That beside The Greater Good and God and Country, we don't amount to a hill of beans. And we have believed this. We have become steeped in the honor of this, in the superiority of national interest. We talk about the necessary "sacrifice" of war to make it something to be lifted up to God. We have been taught well.

One of the blessings of living in a place like this, where headlines are lived out every day, is that you can get to know what it all means to very particular individual people. You might not really understand everything that's going on, but you can see plainly what it boils down to in the lives of all the little people. And I am learning that the problems of little people DO amount to a hill of beans in this crazy mixed up world. In fact, they are what matters most. They may be all that matters.

I think of the stories of Jesus' ministry. He lived under the occupation of the Empire, but notice he doesn't talk much about national interest. He talks about people who are sick or marginalized or poor or widowed. The stories are almost all about his encounters with particular little people. People with names, people with problems. They are what is important to him. Not alot of Secretaries of State or Prime Ministers in the Gospels. In fact, it's always seemed to me that when he comes before the Empire in the form of Pilate, he hardly has time for him. I notice, though, that he has time for the two thieves beside him on their crosses. Little people. Even criminal little people. He has time for them.

I spent the past two days in a village in the north of the West Bank where I go sometimes to work in a clinic. I stay with a family there and although their abiding hospitality will always demand that I be treated as a guest, the more I'm there the more they don't notice me. Being with them, I see what their lives are like every day. What they eat for dinner and breakfast, what they say about the current events of the day, how the Occupation affects them or doesn't, what makes them laugh and what makes them angry, what they do in the evening, what they spend their money on, who they keep company with.

The hill-of-beans ethos would say we mustn't focus on them, though. We must keep our eyes on the Big Picture, The Future, What's At Stake, Global Concerns. "Sacrifice" will be necessary. The more I am here, the more I think this is dead wrong. Some days I think it's even evil. Am I naive, do I not understand harsh reality and the way the world must work? I think I understand it very well. And I think it's a Great Big Problem.

On the road back to Jerusalem yesterday, we saw a military vehicle come to a stop and 3 soldiers jump out. Their rifles were up and pointed ahead as they began to run up the hill by the road. Just as we passed by, they began shooting at someone up the hill. We couldn't see who it was. Probably someone whose life got in the way of some national interest. And we won't find out who it was. His shooting or escape will pass by unnoticed by the world. Because his problems don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy, mixed-up world.

If these national interests and global concerns playing out here and in other parts of the world are so all-fired glorious and noble, why are so many people hurting in their wake? I think maybe all these national interests all rolled up together aren't worth even one eyelash from Hamza, or Rana, or Sabila, or Samir, or Fadi, or Ruba, or any of the other millions of little people who are being hurt here.