Last week I received several emails and a phone call from friends, asking if I was ok after they heard about the sad event here in Jerusalem when a man drove a bulldozer into a bus and 3 people were killed. Although it was good to receive that caring, I was confused at first. "Why are they asking about this? This stuff goes on all the time here?"
Then I realized that many people might not know that this stuff goes on all the time here. Depending on which "stuff" we're talking about and where "here" is. I was reminded that what really happens here is not well known outside. I've mentioned this in blogs before, but it seemed a good time to talk more about that. About how some sad events are exploited for political gain, how other sad events are never mentioned, and about how so many who we should be able to trust collude in all this.
The event in Jerusalem last week was plastered all over the internet and all the newspapers. I assume it also received TV coverage in the States, from the notes of concern I received. It was said a "Palestinian," who was immediately dubbed a terrorist, was responsible. That version feeds the mythology that some want to perpetrate, but I must tell you it's not true. The man was Arab and was an Israeli citizen living in Israel. His motive had nothing to do with politics or religion. He had a history of mental illness and was pissed at a man who owns the bulldozer company. He did what he did to get that man in trouble.
Sad isn't it? Just a sick man with revenge on his mind. No Palestinian, no terrorist, no politics, no religion. But it became so in callous, wanton deceit and the world responded dutifully as it always does. Poor, poor Israel, the beleaguered democracy under constant attack by these terrorists.
For balance, here's something else that's been going on the past couple of weeks........
There is a village in the West Bank called Ni'lin. The Wall is being built around it. (The Wall is the "security barrier" that isn't, but is a mechanism for land-grab and isolation of peoples). The construction, which was encircling and strangling Ni'lin as has been done in many other places including Bethlehem, was declared illegal by the World Court and ordered to be stopped. It wasn't. It almost never is. The Wall has been found illegally built many times, including by the Israel Supreme Court. Occasionally construction stops, usually it doesn't. The IDF (Israel Defence Force) screams "Security" and trumps the court.
For some time, demonstrators have been protesting the Wall in Ni'lin. Palestinians, internationals, and Israeli activists. Last week, the IDF declared the village a military danger zone, circled it with troops, blockaded all entry and exit, and put the village under curfew because the demonstrations had become "too violent". They cited rock throwing and rolling burning tires.
These are acts of violence, yes they are. But I'll pause a moment while you ponder about the forces of a nuclear power, armed to the teeth, finding rock-throwing too violent. And whether an appropriate response is to punish the entire population of the village.
Can you say "Gaza"?
When this happens and a village is put under curfew, which is one of the things that happens here which you don't hear about, it means house-curfew and the curfew is around the clock. In other words, while this order is in effect people cannot leave their houses. For anything. If they do, they are shot with rubber bullets, or tear-gassed, or their houses are invaded by the soldiers and destroyed. When people in Ni'lin were injured by the bullets and needed to go to the hospital, ambulances were not permitted entry by the IDF. This was corrected the next day when an activist called a member of the Knesset who ordered the soldiers to let the ambulance enter. I hope the child who had been shot in the neck came out ok.
The curfew has been lifted just now. The soldiers remain in place.
It's not the stories you usually hear from here is it - Salivating mad terrorists besieging a peaceful, quiet democracy. But these stories are the "stuff" that goes on here every day. People detained into their houses by armed soldiers, food and water running out, medical help denied, shot if they venture out. Democracy.
When you hear about the next sad event from here, and unfortunately you probably will, please remember the people you hear about in your prayers or thoughts of concern or however you note those things.
But also please remember the other people you're not hearing about. They need your prayers, too.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
A Blog About Blogging. Sort Of
Did you miss me?
I've realized of course that I wasn't posting like I used to, but lost track of time and now notice that the date of the last blog was 6 weeks ago. Oh my!
There are a number of reasons. Partly because I've become much busier now with plenty to do, unlike those first dreadfully long, dark, cold winter months here when I wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else. Now, it seems, I live here. I have friends, lots to do, and days just started going by without my thinking about blogging. But it wasn't just about the time. I also lost the muse a bit. I felt I was saying the same thing over and over. I couldn't seem to find ways to make the blogs "interesting."
But a few friends wrote, saying they missed reading the postings (that was really nice, thank you). And in reflecting about it then, I realized that part of my responsibility here is just to witness. Not to censor it because it doesn't seem interesting, but simply to share whatever is here, interesting or not. I also realize that with more time here, "interesting" has taken on new meaning. Today I was driving from the West Bank back into Jerusalem. At the checkpoint, the soldier was sitting on a chair up on the curb above street level. His machine gun was draped lazily across his lap, muzzle pointed at me about 2 feet away. I said "Shalom", handed him my passport, he waved me on. I drove away, wondering briefly if the machine gun was loaded but not otherwise paying much attention....... Um, this is not really a normal thing. I bet it doesn't happen alot in San Antonio or Auckland. But here it is routine. One of the challenges here is to always stay alert to the horrific abnormality of this way of life. If we forget that and get used to the Occupation and oppression, we are lost.
Another thing I realized is that part of what needs to be witnessed and shared with readers is that in many ways it is the same thing over and over again. The sheer relentlessness of Occupation is one of the things that makes it so difficult. You know when you wake up every morning that it's still there. You still can't go wherever you want or do whatever you want. You will have to endure that checkpoint again today. You still have to remember to take that ID card with you. You still know that soldiers with guns control your life. And when you go to bed tonight, you know that it will be there again tomorrow. This is hard.
Maybe in other places, when it's not on the news people think it's better somehow. That it's peaceful for awhile. "Oh, no stories from Jerusalem today, that's good." No, that's not the case. We're still here. Nothing has changed. Some people have asked about the recent ceasefire. Truthfully, we didn't pay that much attention here. People hoped of course, but after 60 years everyone here knows how these things work. Mostly, these events are for show on the world stage. Events here are moving inexorably forward toward removal of the Palestinian people. Never mind what you read, that's what's really happening.
Seeing this, realizing this apparent course of events is hard. When I know the people I have come to love face a series of dead-ends and losses, it makes alot of sadness. But it also makes me need to stay here with them. How could I turn my back now?
So. Life goes on. Hours of gold, hours of lead. Interesting or not, I'll keep writing. I hope you'll keep reading.
I've realized of course that I wasn't posting like I used to, but lost track of time and now notice that the date of the last blog was 6 weeks ago. Oh my!
There are a number of reasons. Partly because I've become much busier now with plenty to do, unlike those first dreadfully long, dark, cold winter months here when I wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else. Now, it seems, I live here. I have friends, lots to do, and days just started going by without my thinking about blogging. But it wasn't just about the time. I also lost the muse a bit. I felt I was saying the same thing over and over. I couldn't seem to find ways to make the blogs "interesting."
But a few friends wrote, saying they missed reading the postings (that was really nice, thank you). And in reflecting about it then, I realized that part of my responsibility here is just to witness. Not to censor it because it doesn't seem interesting, but simply to share whatever is here, interesting or not. I also realize that with more time here, "interesting" has taken on new meaning. Today I was driving from the West Bank back into Jerusalem. At the checkpoint, the soldier was sitting on a chair up on the curb above street level. His machine gun was draped lazily across his lap, muzzle pointed at me about 2 feet away. I said "Shalom", handed him my passport, he waved me on. I drove away, wondering briefly if the machine gun was loaded but not otherwise paying much attention....... Um, this is not really a normal thing. I bet it doesn't happen alot in San Antonio or Auckland. But here it is routine. One of the challenges here is to always stay alert to the horrific abnormality of this way of life. If we forget that and get used to the Occupation and oppression, we are lost.
Another thing I realized is that part of what needs to be witnessed and shared with readers is that in many ways it is the same thing over and over again. The sheer relentlessness of Occupation is one of the things that makes it so difficult. You know when you wake up every morning that it's still there. You still can't go wherever you want or do whatever you want. You will have to endure that checkpoint again today. You still have to remember to take that ID card with you. You still know that soldiers with guns control your life. And when you go to bed tonight, you know that it will be there again tomorrow. This is hard.
Maybe in other places, when it's not on the news people think it's better somehow. That it's peaceful for awhile. "Oh, no stories from Jerusalem today, that's good." No, that's not the case. We're still here. Nothing has changed. Some people have asked about the recent ceasefire. Truthfully, we didn't pay that much attention here. People hoped of course, but after 60 years everyone here knows how these things work. Mostly, these events are for show on the world stage. Events here are moving inexorably forward toward removal of the Palestinian people. Never mind what you read, that's what's really happening.
Seeing this, realizing this apparent course of events is hard. When I know the people I have come to love face a series of dead-ends and losses, it makes alot of sadness. But it also makes me need to stay here with them. How could I turn my back now?
So. Life goes on. Hours of gold, hours of lead. Interesting or not, I'll keep writing. I hope you'll keep reading.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
How Many Times....?
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?"
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?"
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.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
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.
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.
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