This morning I joined a group of people in convoy to Gaza to take food to the people there and to demonstrate against the blockade. We formed up in Jerusalem early in the morning. Four buses full and many cars. The event was sponsored by several Israeli organizations - yes, Israeli - and the people who gathered were wonderfully mixed. Jews, Arabs, all ages, many internationals, religious and secular. We drove to Gaza through a hard rain which cleared as we approached Erez Crossing. Erez, in the north of Gaza, is the only crossing normally open, but of course has been closed the past several days since the blockade was put into effect. You have recently heard about Rafah, the southern crossing into Egypt opened by the people a few days ago. We paused just short of the crossing to wait for other groups to arrive from around the country. When everyone was there we went on foot toward the crossing terminal. Needless to say, soldiers and police were everywhere, but the demonstration was completely nonviolent and there were no confrontations of any kind. There are photos in the slideshow at the right.
We had two large trucks of food and supplies. We were not allowed into Gaza, of course, nor was the food. A legal proceeding had been initiated and the Supreme Court will decide tomorrow whether the food can enter......
A court will decide whether food can be given to people who have nearly none because a government has decided 1 1/2 million people must be punished for the actions of some. What kind of people are we becoming?!?!
I haven't posted anything here in awhile because after the Bush visit, it was hard to find words. This place is sometimes a clinical laboratory in anger management. Everyone here knows that the visit with its talk of "peace process" was a performance; a shell game to distract the world from noticing what really goes on here. Now, the sad events in Gaza ought to make that abundantly clear, but still the efforts to obfuscate go on. We're told that the blockade of food, medicine, electricity, fuel is to force the people of Gaza to refute Hamas. This is such a flagrantly stupid thing to say it's hard to believe anyone actually says it. More about that in a future post.
What's going on here is an occupation. Pure and simple. There is no "conflict" for which "peace talks" are needed. There is one group here with all the power, money, weapons, and control. There is another group who is oppressed and controlled and has no power, weapons, money, or control. Who cannot go to work without showing an ID. Who cannot travel without enduring checkpoints. Who can only eat what is allowed in. Who only have light and heat if the other group says they can have light and heat. It is as though you called in the National Guard when your two-year-old has a temper tantrum in order to "negotiate a peace agreement" and to protect yourself against the "security threat" of flying stuffed bunnies. The power relationship here is just about like that.
Missiles are being fired out of Gaza onto Israeli land, yes they are. Some Palestinians resist being occupied and some of them make very bad, very destructive choices about how to react. But when did it become ok to punish the 1 1/2 million other people who live in the same vicinity? When did it become ok, under any circumstances, to starve people? When did we suspend international law, not to mention human decency?
The brutal, inhuman actions in Gaza have been justified on the basis of "security." In my time here, although brief, I have traveled by myself in the heart of the West Bank on buses full of Palestinians. I have encountered Hamas troops in the streets of Gaza. I have never been threatened or made to feel afraid or been afraid.
You know who makes me afraid? People whose ravenous gluttony for power leads them to starve children for the sake of "security," "national interest," and "geopolitical considerations." Those are the people I think should be watched.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Wilderness
I went to the Dead Sea Saturday. It's only a 30 minute drive from Jerusalem. In the 30 minutes, you drop from the hills of Jerusalem several hundred meters to the lowest spot on earth. The temperature rises 10 degrees C, to 20 (nearly 70 F). Shirtsleeves after the wet cold of Jerusalem was a treat!
There were very few people. We went to a "nature preserve", really just a park for picnicking. Sat at the beach for awhile and did as the locals do, covering ourselves with the rich, dark mud that is supposed to be therapeutic. Feels great. See the slideshow. We stumbled upon a path going up the hillside that surrounds the Sea and had a great climb with a spectacular view of the entire Sea, the surrounding landscape, and Jordan on the other side.
This is one of the areas where John the Baptist hung out. "The Wilderness." And it is. The landscape is harsh, dry, and barren. The hills are steep, rocky, and rough, pockmarked with caves like the one where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found just a few miles away. It's a hard place. John the Baptist wore camel skin, a leather belt, and ate locusts and honey. In the times of the Gospels, the Wilderness represented a place of trial and testing. Of harshness and suffering, pain and death, a place to grow through adversity.
The trip to the Dead Sea was the first time I'd spent out of a city. It was peaceful and relaxing and refreshing. For just a while, we could forget the conflict and what it is doing to people. When we returned to Jerusalem it was the city that seemed harsh and difficult, full of threatening energies and suffering.
The City and its "civilization" became the Wilderness on Saturday. But no prophet was there.
There were very few people. We went to a "nature preserve", really just a park for picnicking. Sat at the beach for awhile and did as the locals do, covering ourselves with the rich, dark mud that is supposed to be therapeutic. Feels great. See the slideshow. We stumbled upon a path going up the hillside that surrounds the Sea and had a great climb with a spectacular view of the entire Sea, the surrounding landscape, and Jordan on the other side.
This is one of the areas where John the Baptist hung out. "The Wilderness." And it is. The landscape is harsh, dry, and barren. The hills are steep, rocky, and rough, pockmarked with caves like the one where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found just a few miles away. It's a hard place. John the Baptist wore camel skin, a leather belt, and ate locusts and honey. In the times of the Gospels, the Wilderness represented a place of trial and testing. Of harshness and suffering, pain and death, a place to grow through adversity.
The trip to the Dead Sea was the first time I'd spent out of a city. It was peaceful and relaxing and refreshing. For just a while, we could forget the conflict and what it is doing to people. When we returned to Jerusalem it was the city that seemed harsh and difficult, full of threatening energies and suffering.
The City and its "civilization" became the Wilderness on Saturday. But no prophet was there.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Anno Domini
The very beginning of this new year holds two anniversaries I will note: my 60th birthday and two months here in Jerusalem.
60... WHATTHEHELL am I doing here?! I should be home in a recliner making rootbeer floats for the grandkids I should have and watching Oprah. Instead I'm traipsing around the West Bank and Gaza. Still crazy after all these years, I guess.
Both anniversaries seem the blink of an eye and at the same time without beginning. I can barely remember getting here on Nov 15 and now it's somehow or other becoming a kind of home. Settling in.
During the time of preparation and discernment before coming here, there was alot of reflection about being aware of God's presence: "Where did I see God today?" Now, I find that I don't think about God much......oops, can a missionary say that??? What I mean is I don't think about God much. Being here is becoming being engaged, being involved, being aware, being part of what's happening here. Happening in the simplest, most ordinary of ways.
I pay more attention to how Jesus moved around here. Not alot of theological discourse going on there. It seems like he talked alot more about what people should be doing. I love his Kingdom of God stories: "The Kingdom of God is like..." Then an example everyone could grab onto - "Oh yeah, I get that."
I made my third trip to Gaza on December 31. I kept thinking about those stories. The Kingdom of God is like a man in Gaza who has no bread and prays every day that his house isn't missiled tonight, but graciously welcomes a visitor from America to his home for lunch.
At this time early in 2008 when we make resolutions and plans about the coming year, I invite you again to imagine your Kingdom of God. Is this it? If not, make a resolution to do one thing this year to move in that direction. Anything. Write a check to support something you think is right; write a letter to a decision-maker; volunteer; go on mission; give money to someone who needs it; stop being mad at somebody; stop being mad at yourself; say hello to a stranger; give some of the clothes or stuff you don't need anymore to someone who does.
Do something, so your Kingdom of God will be like................................................................
60... WHATTHEHELL am I doing here?! I should be home in a recliner making rootbeer floats for the grandkids I should have and watching Oprah. Instead I'm traipsing around the West Bank and Gaza. Still crazy after all these years, I guess.
Both anniversaries seem the blink of an eye and at the same time without beginning. I can barely remember getting here on Nov 15 and now it's somehow or other becoming a kind of home. Settling in.
During the time of preparation and discernment before coming here, there was alot of reflection about being aware of God's presence: "Where did I see God today?" Now, I find that I don't think about God much......oops, can a missionary say that??? What I mean is I don't think about God much. Being here is becoming being engaged, being involved, being aware, being part of what's happening here. Happening in the simplest, most ordinary of ways.
I pay more attention to how Jesus moved around here. Not alot of theological discourse going on there. It seems like he talked alot more about what people should be doing. I love his Kingdom of God stories: "The Kingdom of God is like..." Then an example everyone could grab onto - "Oh yeah, I get that."
I made my third trip to Gaza on December 31. I kept thinking about those stories. The Kingdom of God is like a man in Gaza who has no bread and prays every day that his house isn't missiled tonight, but graciously welcomes a visitor from America to his home for lunch.
At this time early in 2008 when we make resolutions and plans about the coming year, I invite you again to imagine your Kingdom of God. Is this it? If not, make a resolution to do one thing this year to move in that direction. Anything. Write a check to support something you think is right; write a letter to a decision-maker; volunteer; go on mission; give money to someone who needs it; stop being mad at somebody; stop being mad at yourself; say hello to a stranger; give some of the clothes or stuff you don't need anymore to someone who does.
Do something, so your Kingdom of God will be like................................................................
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Christmas 2007
Season's Greetings from the land where Jesus lived.
Not many words are needed. View the slideshow for some photos of Christmas Eve in Bethlehem. As someone said, it is a "carnival" for sure, but it's also a time for thousands of people to come together in a land that is suffering so that they can share joy and community and remember an event that still brings hope into their lives. I would not have missed it.
I hope that the feast or festival you observed this year gave birth in you to new resolve, purpose, and intentions to create the world you wish to inhabit.
Peace. Shalom. Salaam
Not many words are needed. View the slideshow for some photos of Christmas Eve in Bethlehem. As someone said, it is a "carnival" for sure, but it's also a time for thousands of people to come together in a land that is suffering so that they can share joy and community and remember an event that still brings hope into their lives. I would not have missed it.
I hope that the feast or festival you observed this year gave birth in you to new resolve, purpose, and intentions to create the world you wish to inhabit.
Peace. Shalom. Salaam
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Joy and Pain
Sometimes it's hard to maintain your balance here. This is a diary of the last few days. Each day has an accompanying slideshow at the right.
SUNDAY: I visited a Palestinian refugee camp for the first time - Jalazon Camp outside Ramallah in the West Bank. There are about 20 camps in the West Bank with a total population of about half a million. There are about 14,000 people in Jalazon Camp.
The camps began when people left their homes in what is now Israel during the war for Israeli independence in 1947-'48. They consider themselves refugees, as does the UN (www.un.org/unrwa) and they have been in the camps for these 60 years, so two generations have now grown up in the camps. They are small towns, not "camps" in the way we might think of them. They have schools, businesses, homes, shops. They are variously administered by UNRWA, the IDF, or themselves depending on various factors. In other words, no one is really in charge and the people there do the best they can which isn't that well. Health care and schooling are poor. Very near Jalazon is an Israeli settlement. If you go too close you will be shot at. The school in Jalazon has a third story but it's not allowed to be used so that the settlers can't see it. So the usable space in the school is too small and children have to go to school in shifts. The last shift gets out after dark. See the photo in the slideshow of children walking home at dark.
Rather than me try to describe the camp, look at the slideshow. The photos are poor quality because I took them from a car and because it was getting dark, but I hope you can see what life might be like there. Although unemployment is high, many people there work. So why have they stayed there all this time? Why not move out and get on with it? They will tell you because they are refugees and they wait for the time when they are allowed to return to their homes.
I kept asking myself, What kind of place is this? The answer came: it's a ghetto. The ironies get piled on top of each other here.
MONDAY: A return trip to Gaza. In the morning I saw some children at our hospital there. They all had anemia and malnutrition. Two had burns. Two had post-traumatic stress disorder. PTSD is endemic in children here because the children see the conflict up close. Soldiers entering homes and destroying them. Many have seen their relatives shot. Many have fathers, brothers, uncles in prison.
I went to Gaza with two Australian friends. One used to teach in Gaza and we had lunch with some of her former students. It was a delightful lunch at a restaurant overlooking the Mediterranean. It's easy to forget Gaza is a coast town and would be a really nice vacation spot under different circumstances.
What a wonderful group of young people I was able to meet then! All working (relief workers, teachers, journalists, interpreters). But each has this story: They want to pursue graduate studies or attend a seminar somewhere or advance their career in another place with more opportunity. None has. Despite many attempts, none has been allowed to leave for further education.
How does it benefit anyone to keep these bright, enthusiastic, committed young people under-educated, and the children impoverished and in poor health? But I put those thoughts aside for awhile that day to just take in this completely different perpective on Gaza and enjoy good company. It was an experience I will always remember. A Gaza full of life and hope that afternoon.
A few hours later, after we left, there were 3 air strikes in Gaza. The strikes were directed against people believed to be involved in shooting the missiles out of Gaza and into nearby Israeli towns. The people in those towns are suffering, as well, and some have been killed and injured. I'm thankful that none of my new friends was hurt in the strikes.
TUESDAY: Today my friend Jill took me with her to help with the Christmas party at the Holy Child Program in Beit Sahour, just near Bethlehem. It's a program for children 5-13 who have behavioral and psychologic problems, mostly from traumatic stress. They come to the center when their family and/or school is no longer able to cope with them. After 1-3 years, they are returned to school and most of the time back into healthier lives.
They put on a program for us, including a wonderful rendition of The Twelve Days of Christmas. Then Santa visited! Toys for everyone! Take a look at the slideshow.........there's something about that Santa...............
Finally, we all had some birthday cake for Jesus.
It was a day of joy and life, energy and songs, laughter and happiness. Surely there will be more such days for this place, inshallah.
SUNDAY: I visited a Palestinian refugee camp for the first time - Jalazon Camp outside Ramallah in the West Bank. There are about 20 camps in the West Bank with a total population of about half a million. There are about 14,000 people in Jalazon Camp.
The camps began when people left their homes in what is now Israel during the war for Israeli independence in 1947-'48. They consider themselves refugees, as does the UN (www.un.org/unrwa) and they have been in the camps for these 60 years, so two generations have now grown up in the camps. They are small towns, not "camps" in the way we might think of them. They have schools, businesses, homes, shops. They are variously administered by UNRWA, the IDF, or themselves depending on various factors. In other words, no one is really in charge and the people there do the best they can which isn't that well. Health care and schooling are poor. Very near Jalazon is an Israeli settlement. If you go too close you will be shot at. The school in Jalazon has a third story but it's not allowed to be used so that the settlers can't see it. So the usable space in the school is too small and children have to go to school in shifts. The last shift gets out after dark. See the photo in the slideshow of children walking home at dark.
Rather than me try to describe the camp, look at the slideshow. The photos are poor quality because I took them from a car and because it was getting dark, but I hope you can see what life might be like there. Although unemployment is high, many people there work. So why have they stayed there all this time? Why not move out and get on with it? They will tell you because they are refugees and they wait for the time when they are allowed to return to their homes.
I kept asking myself, What kind of place is this? The answer came: it's a ghetto. The ironies get piled on top of each other here.
MONDAY: A return trip to Gaza. In the morning I saw some children at our hospital there. They all had anemia and malnutrition. Two had burns. Two had post-traumatic stress disorder. PTSD is endemic in children here because the children see the conflict up close. Soldiers entering homes and destroying them. Many have seen their relatives shot. Many have fathers, brothers, uncles in prison.
I went to Gaza with two Australian friends. One used to teach in Gaza and we had lunch with some of her former students. It was a delightful lunch at a restaurant overlooking the Mediterranean. It's easy to forget Gaza is a coast town and would be a really nice vacation spot under different circumstances.
What a wonderful group of young people I was able to meet then! All working (relief workers, teachers, journalists, interpreters). But each has this story: They want to pursue graduate studies or attend a seminar somewhere or advance their career in another place with more opportunity. None has. Despite many attempts, none has been allowed to leave for further education.
How does it benefit anyone to keep these bright, enthusiastic, committed young people under-educated, and the children impoverished and in poor health? But I put those thoughts aside for awhile that day to just take in this completely different perpective on Gaza and enjoy good company. It was an experience I will always remember. A Gaza full of life and hope that afternoon.
A few hours later, after we left, there were 3 air strikes in Gaza. The strikes were directed against people believed to be involved in shooting the missiles out of Gaza and into nearby Israeli towns. The people in those towns are suffering, as well, and some have been killed and injured. I'm thankful that none of my new friends was hurt in the strikes.
TUESDAY: Today my friend Jill took me with her to help with the Christmas party at the Holy Child Program in Beit Sahour, just near Bethlehem. It's a program for children 5-13 who have behavioral and psychologic problems, mostly from traumatic stress. They come to the center when their family and/or school is no longer able to cope with them. After 1-3 years, they are returned to school and most of the time back into healthier lives.
They put on a program for us, including a wonderful rendition of The Twelve Days of Christmas. Then Santa visited! Toys for everyone! Take a look at the slideshow.........there's something about that Santa...............
Finally, we all had some birthday cake for Jesus.
It was a day of joy and life, energy and songs, laughter and happiness. Surely there will be more such days for this place, inshallah.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Innocence
Yesterday the Red Cross said there is a humanitarian crisis in the West Bank and Gaza.
Duh.
Also yesterday, more missles out of Gaza and an air strike into Gaza. More people died.
All this talk about peace lately and we seem to move farther away. As I live here and try to listen carefully, I hear conversations about two kinds of peace. The one we hear most about in the news is the I-have-the-most-weapons-and-there-are-more-of-me-so-you-have-to-do- what-I-tell-you kind of peace. "Sure, I want peace as long as I still have the power."
The other kind of peace is what most folks here want. But even that conversation quickly moves toward blame and recrimination. So many people have been hurt so much for so long. It's completely understandable, but it gets us nowhere does it. We keep blaming, hating, and arguing about who started it, lying to each other, and denying the other's existence. Just making more past that the next generation can recriminate about.
At last Sunday's sermon, we heard about two Greek words that carry so much of the gospel message. Kenosis (Self-emptying) and metanoia (turning in a different direction). When can we empty ourselves of our rancor and bitterness and move in a new direction. When can we say there are no innocents here, not really. We have all behaved badly for a very long time. When can we talk about reconciliation and forgiveness, not just "peace."
Excerpts from Janet Morley's "There is no innocence in prayer":
"I came to your holy land, like Moses to the desert, seeking a pure encounter,
a cleansing, a pilgrimmage,
a new sense of direction.
There are no pure experiences, no unmixed feelings,
no beauty that is not woven with pain.
I wanted truth.
I find several incompatible truths.
My hands are also full of blood:
the blood of my country's history - our promising of one land to two peoples;
the blood of the holocaust
when Christians tried to wipe out Jews.
There is no innocence in prayer,
no innocence in religion,
no innocence in the desert -
just nowhere else to go to avoid the tenacity of evil,
or carrying my share of history, of present pain,
my share in the struggle for peace.
For, if your disciples keep silent,
these stones will cry out loud."
Duh.
Also yesterday, more missles out of Gaza and an air strike into Gaza. More people died.
All this talk about peace lately and we seem to move farther away. As I live here and try to listen carefully, I hear conversations about two kinds of peace. The one we hear most about in the news is the I-have-the-most-weapons-and-there-are-more-of-me-so-you-have-to-do- what-I-tell-you kind of peace. "Sure, I want peace as long as I still have the power."
The other kind of peace is what most folks here want. But even that conversation quickly moves toward blame and recrimination. So many people have been hurt so much for so long. It's completely understandable, but it gets us nowhere does it. We keep blaming, hating, and arguing about who started it, lying to each other, and denying the other's existence. Just making more past that the next generation can recriminate about.
At last Sunday's sermon, we heard about two Greek words that carry so much of the gospel message. Kenosis (Self-emptying) and metanoia (turning in a different direction). When can we empty ourselves of our rancor and bitterness and move in a new direction. When can we say there are no innocents here, not really. We have all behaved badly for a very long time. When can we talk about reconciliation and forgiveness, not just "peace."
Excerpts from Janet Morley's "There is no innocence in prayer":
"I came to your holy land, like Moses to the desert, seeking a pure encounter,
a cleansing, a pilgrimmage,
a new sense of direction.
There are no pure experiences, no unmixed feelings,
no beauty that is not woven with pain.
I wanted truth.
I find several incompatible truths.
My hands are also full of blood:
the blood of my country's history - our promising of one land to two peoples;
the blood of the holocaust
when Christians tried to wipe out Jews.
There is no innocence in prayer,
no innocence in religion,
no innocence in the desert -
just nowhere else to go to avoid the tenacity of evil,
or carrying my share of history, of present pain,
my share in the struggle for peace.
For, if your disciples keep silent,
these stones will cry out loud."
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Side"burns"
Yesterday I had my first haircut here. I went to the shop around the corner from where I live, owned and operated by Rame.
First, of course, I was offered tea (chai) or coffee (qahwe). No interaction of any kind happens here without the hospitality of tea or coffee. Arabic coffee will wake you up real fast! The specialty tea here is with mint (chai bi nana). Am amazing refreshing beverage; I'll make it for you when I get back. I had chai bi nana bi suker, bidun halib (with sugar, without milk).
ok, then we started the haircut. I was relaxing with my eyes closed when something cut me a little on the face. I looked and Rame was using a kind of thick floss-like material, one end in his mouth, to cut the random hairs guys get on their face. ok. I closed my eyes again, then heard a familiar sound I couldn't quite place and then felt warmth around my ear. I looked and Rame was burning other hairs with a cigarette lighter. Yeah. It didn't hurt, just some warmth. Oh well, when in Rome...
More trimming, wash and some gel. All done. Looks pretty darn good, if I say so
Chai bi nana: no charge
Haircut: 35 shekels (little under $9)
Sitting in a chair with a Palestinian man with a razor and lighter, and learning something about trust: Priceless
First, of course, I was offered tea (chai) or coffee (qahwe). No interaction of any kind happens here without the hospitality of tea or coffee. Arabic coffee will wake you up real fast! The specialty tea here is with mint (chai bi nana). Am amazing refreshing beverage; I'll make it for you when I get back. I had chai bi nana bi suker, bidun halib (with sugar, without milk).
ok, then we started the haircut. I was relaxing with my eyes closed when something cut me a little on the face. I looked and Rame was using a kind of thick floss-like material, one end in his mouth, to cut the random hairs guys get on their face. ok. I closed my eyes again, then heard a familiar sound I couldn't quite place and then felt warmth around my ear. I looked and Rame was burning other hairs with a cigarette lighter. Yeah. It didn't hurt, just some warmth. Oh well, when in Rome...
More trimming, wash and some gel. All done. Looks pretty darn good, if I say so
Chai bi nana: no charge
Haircut: 35 shekels (little under $9)
Sitting in a chair with a Palestinian man with a razor and lighter, and learning something about trust: Priceless
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