Recently I was ready for some new tunes on my MP3 and, struck by a wave of nostalgia, I decided to see what was available from Peter, Paul, and Mary. I downloaded a few of their songs and have been listening alot the last couple weeks to "Blowin' in the Wind." Remember it? More than 40 years on and as the news of the world has unfolded lately, how fresh those "protest" lyrics still are....
People are being beaten and killed in Zimbabwe for not voting for the party in power
"How many times must a man look up before he can see the sky? How many ears must one man have before he can hear people cry?"
Countless thousands in Myanmar are dead or now homeless, hungry, and deserted while the government charged with their care only scrambles to protect its secrecy and power
"How many deaths will it take till he knows that too many people have died?"
The American President speaks to the Israeli Knesset extolling its noble democracy and valued friendship, while mere miles from where he stands 5 million people are under military occupation and subjugation by said glorious "democracy"
"How many years must some people exist before they're allowed to be free? How many times can a man turn his head and pretend that he just doesn't see?"
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Promise
"Don't you know that it's worth every treasure on earth to be young at heart"
I seem to be crying alot lately. Not boo-hoo bawling, but tears coming easily. Like the heart leaking. A friend said recently if your heart doesn't break here everyday, you need your sensitivity adjusted. That's very true, but I think it works the other way, too. If your heart doesn't swell everyday, something's wrong there, too. It's a big reason that being on mission is so exhausting. Every day is a ride.
The young people here have been on my mind alot lately. There's an organization here called Kids4Peace. It's a program for Christian, Muslim, and Jewish kids and teenagers (and their parents) to come together and get to know each other, understand each other, like each other, and learn to live with each other. They spend a year in the program which includes 2 weeks at a camp in the US. Recently, they had a reunion. Many more than expected showed up, some after several years, meaning it meant an awful lot to them. I watched them reconnect and start right in where they left off, the way kids do. Several of them talked about how the program changed the way they view the world, how they're now leaders in their schools in tolerance and ecumenism. See some photos from the reunion in the slideshow.
Then last week I went to the opening and dedication of a new nursing school branch of Bethlehem University. I'm going to teach there this summer. It's located in a village called Qubeiba, just outside Ramallah in the West Bank. What I love about this school is it's location there in an area of particular poverty and isolation. This is one of the areas that The Wall is trying to close in and shut off from the world. All the students in the school are local kids who now have a chance for a good profession that will assure them of work, even here. At the dedication ceremony, some boys performed a dabka, a wildly energetic Palestinian dance. There are some photos of that, too.
One of the Gospel stories about Jesus' resurrection has him meet two people walking on the way to Emmaus. No one knows for sure where Emmaus was, but one of the possibilities is Qubeiba. Rebirth and promise. How fitting.
Stopping in Ramallah on the way to Qubeiba, I met a young friend I've made. He works in Jerusalem but lives in Ramallah. He doesn't have a permit to be in Jerusalem, so he goes there at considerable risk. He has had to climb over the Wall to get there; he has been beaten up by soldiers who caught him trying to enter Jerusalem. He goes there because there's more work and better pay. It's the first time I've seen him outside Jerusalem. In Ramallah, he belongs. What a pleasure to see him walking around freely, stopping to chat with friends, smiling and laughing. I wonder what will happen to him. Where will he go? What will he do? What lies ahead for this bright, ambitious young man?
A few weeks ago I met a man of 22 at a refugee camp in Bethlehem. As we chatted, he told me about back surgery he had recently. I asked what for. He said because of injuries to his back when he was tortured in prison. What??!! One night soldiers came into his house and took him to prison. During interrogations and torture he was kicked and beaten, breaking some vertebrae. Tens of thousands of Palestinians are or have been in prison. In fact, it's hard to meet someone who wasn't himself or has a family member in prison.
What will happen to these young people who are worth every treasure on earth? Perhaps conditions will change here and they will find the bright promise of futures that other young people have. I hope so because right now I can't think about the alternative. I've already cried enough today.
I seem to be crying alot lately. Not boo-hoo bawling, but tears coming easily. Like the heart leaking. A friend said recently if your heart doesn't break here everyday, you need your sensitivity adjusted. That's very true, but I think it works the other way, too. If your heart doesn't swell everyday, something's wrong there, too. It's a big reason that being on mission is so exhausting. Every day is a ride.
The young people here have been on my mind alot lately. There's an organization here called Kids4Peace. It's a program for Christian, Muslim, and Jewish kids and teenagers (and their parents) to come together and get to know each other, understand each other, like each other, and learn to live with each other. They spend a year in the program which includes 2 weeks at a camp in the US. Recently, they had a reunion. Many more than expected showed up, some after several years, meaning it meant an awful lot to them. I watched them reconnect and start right in where they left off, the way kids do. Several of them talked about how the program changed the way they view the world, how they're now leaders in their schools in tolerance and ecumenism. See some photos from the reunion in the slideshow.
Then last week I went to the opening and dedication of a new nursing school branch of Bethlehem University. I'm going to teach there this summer. It's located in a village called Qubeiba, just outside Ramallah in the West Bank. What I love about this school is it's location there in an area of particular poverty and isolation. This is one of the areas that The Wall is trying to close in and shut off from the world. All the students in the school are local kids who now have a chance for a good profession that will assure them of work, even here. At the dedication ceremony, some boys performed a dabka, a wildly energetic Palestinian dance. There are some photos of that, too.
One of the Gospel stories about Jesus' resurrection has him meet two people walking on the way to Emmaus. No one knows for sure where Emmaus was, but one of the possibilities is Qubeiba. Rebirth and promise. How fitting.
Stopping in Ramallah on the way to Qubeiba, I met a young friend I've made. He works in Jerusalem but lives in Ramallah. He doesn't have a permit to be in Jerusalem, so he goes there at considerable risk. He has had to climb over the Wall to get there; he has been beaten up by soldiers who caught him trying to enter Jerusalem. He goes there because there's more work and better pay. It's the first time I've seen him outside Jerusalem. In Ramallah, he belongs. What a pleasure to see him walking around freely, stopping to chat with friends, smiling and laughing. I wonder what will happen to him. Where will he go? What will he do? What lies ahead for this bright, ambitious young man?
A few weeks ago I met a man of 22 at a refugee camp in Bethlehem. As we chatted, he told me about back surgery he had recently. I asked what for. He said because of injuries to his back when he was tortured in prison. What??!! One night soldiers came into his house and took him to prison. During interrogations and torture he was kicked and beaten, breaking some vertebrae. Tens of thousands of Palestinians are or have been in prison. In fact, it's hard to meet someone who wasn't himself or has a family member in prison.
What will happen to these young people who are worth every treasure on earth? Perhaps conditions will change here and they will find the bright promise of futures that other young people have. I hope so because right now I can't think about the alternative. I've already cried enough today.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Family Values
Last Sunday, I went with some friends to Nazareth for the wedding of a friend of ours. Nazareth is up north, about 2.5 hours from Jerusalem. It sits atop a hill and offers spectacular views all 'round. On a clear day, as it was Sunday, you can see the mountains way off to the east in Jordan.
The wedding was beautiful and happy and lively. The church sits on one of the highest spots in Nazareth and the front entrance door looks out onto that endless, timeless view. So as the couple turned to leave the altar after their vows, they must have believed they were looking out into a bright future of promise. Inshallah.
Thankfully, both the husband and wife have permits to be in their homeland, so they will be able to live together. Alhamdu lillah (Praise God). But it isn't always so........
The next morning, we went to Gaza. I have now been there many times and each time is more difficult as we watch our friends there suffer more and more as the embargo, attacks and incursions continue. On top of all the other deprivations, on Monday two of our friends there were both dealing with Family Separations.
One man's wife went at Christmas to visit their children in Jerusalem. When she tried to return, she was told her permit was no good and she would have to get another. So far she has not been able to, so our friend in Gaza has not seen his wife since Christmas and his children since longer.
Our other friend's three children have been in Jordan studying and working for 3 years. He won't let them return to Gaza because he does not want them to be trapped there with no work or opportunities available. However, he assumed he would be able to visit them sometimes. But now it's been 3 years since he has seen them because he cannot get a permit to leave Gaza. On the day before we visited he had learned his request for a permit to attend a conference in Jordan had been denied. He was going to take his wife and they would see their children. But they weren't allowed to leave, again. They won't see them, still.
I think we can't imagine this, most of us. Not being able to see our family because we are not granted a permit to travel. It sounds like a scenario from a futuristic doomsday novel: ("here's what could happen to you if you aren't careful"). But sadly, it's the stuff of real life here. I cannot describe for you the pain of this man as he told us his story and asked, "Why can't I see my children? What have we done?" Indeed.
There are tens of thousands of Palestinian families who are separated this way. Some for years, as our friend has been. Israel does not grant them permits to live together. They become separated in various ways, often as in our friends' cases, because of travel from which return was prevented. The cited reason is "security." Always, security.
There is a danger afoot in the world. And it isn't from terrorists or extremists. It isn't even from the power-mad politicians, my usual favorites to criticize. No, the danger is from us. You and me. From us who allow those others to work their evil because we don't stop them. The danger is from our indifference, from our fear, from our self-indulgence and falling in love with our comforts, from standing down when we see things we know are wrong, from not getting involved because what can we do about it anyway.
There is absolutely no way that families being together threatens anyone's security. These thousands of people are suffering separation because power is being cruelly exercised for its own sake. And we are allowing it.
We can do much better than this.
The wedding was beautiful and happy and lively. The church sits on one of the highest spots in Nazareth and the front entrance door looks out onto that endless, timeless view. So as the couple turned to leave the altar after their vows, they must have believed they were looking out into a bright future of promise. Inshallah.
Thankfully, both the husband and wife have permits to be in their homeland, so they will be able to live together. Alhamdu lillah (Praise God). But it isn't always so........
The next morning, we went to Gaza. I have now been there many times and each time is more difficult as we watch our friends there suffer more and more as the embargo, attacks and incursions continue. On top of all the other deprivations, on Monday two of our friends there were both dealing with Family Separations.
One man's wife went at Christmas to visit their children in Jerusalem. When she tried to return, she was told her permit was no good and she would have to get another. So far she has not been able to, so our friend in Gaza has not seen his wife since Christmas and his children since longer.
Our other friend's three children have been in Jordan studying and working for 3 years. He won't let them return to Gaza because he does not want them to be trapped there with no work or opportunities available. However, he assumed he would be able to visit them sometimes. But now it's been 3 years since he has seen them because he cannot get a permit to leave Gaza. On the day before we visited he had learned his request for a permit to attend a conference in Jordan had been denied. He was going to take his wife and they would see their children. But they weren't allowed to leave, again. They won't see them, still.
I think we can't imagine this, most of us. Not being able to see our family because we are not granted a permit to travel. It sounds like a scenario from a futuristic doomsday novel: ("here's what could happen to you if you aren't careful"). But sadly, it's the stuff of real life here. I cannot describe for you the pain of this man as he told us his story and asked, "Why can't I see my children? What have we done?" Indeed.
There are tens of thousands of Palestinian families who are separated this way. Some for years, as our friend has been. Israel does not grant them permits to live together. They become separated in various ways, often as in our friends' cases, because of travel from which return was prevented. The cited reason is "security." Always, security.
There is a danger afoot in the world. And it isn't from terrorists or extremists. It isn't even from the power-mad politicians, my usual favorites to criticize. No, the danger is from us. You and me. From us who allow those others to work their evil because we don't stop them. The danger is from our indifference, from our fear, from our self-indulgence and falling in love with our comforts, from standing down when we see things we know are wrong, from not getting involved because what can we do about it anyway.
There is absolutely no way that families being together threatens anyone's security. These thousands of people are suffering separation because power is being cruelly exercised for its own sake. And we are allowing it.
We can do much better than this.
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