Romans 16.25-27
Now to God who is able to strengthen you…be the glory forever! Amen.
It is a challenge for Palestinian Christians, grounded in Holy Scripture, to hear people cite the Bible as the authority for taking their land. Many of these families can trace their ancestry back generations, finding themselves in the stories in Acts about the early church. It might seem easier to reject the Bible and turn to political arguments.
But God speaks loudly to the Palestinians through the occupation, and the Palestinians turn to the stories of their faith for sustenance and strength. These same words have a far different message in their Palestinian context. Living under occupation, Bishop Mounib Younan, of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land, and Pastor Mitri Raheb, of the Lutheran Christmas Church in Bethlehem, have become excellent and practiced theologians, interpreting these texts from the perspective of people who are oppressed.
Lutherans in the Holy Land today bear this good news, giving God the glory for the strength God provides for them. The Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land is made up of six congregations, four in the occupied West Bank—in Ramallah, Bethlehem, Beit Jala and Beit Sahour; one in Jerusalem; and one in Amman, Jordan, intent on bringing hope to their communities, even when their people often feel hopeless.
Each of these congregations has a school, because, as Pastor Mitri says, education is the key to achieving freedom and equal rights and creating a just and flourishing society. These schools, attended by both Muslim and Christian children, teach understanding and respect for other cultures. They nurture a curiosity about the world, a thirst for learning and creative problem-solving. The teachers encourage their students to resist the occupation by learning their own Palestinian culture, creating art and music that celebrates who they are and caring for their bodies with exercise.
As I walked into the Wellness Center in Bethlehem, Hamid grinned and practiced his English, saying “Hello, how are you?” When he saw my camera he made faces and jumped about, posing for a picture. His two friends walked in with their mothers for their swim lesson and he got them to mug for the camera too. I took several pictures, showed them to the boys and they giggled with excitement and posed some more. Although his English is limited, Hamid is curious about the bigger world. He wants to make friends with strangers. He has been raised to welcome the other, to approach the other without fear. He is the legacy of the Lutheran churches’ educational philosophy. The photo shows Hamid and his friends hamming it up for the camera.
Some in Israel claim election—that Israel is God’s chosen people by virtue of their ethnicity. Pastor Mitri has written, however, that God’s election is “a promise to the weak, encouragement to the discouraged and consolation to the desperate….Election is not a special privilege, It is much more a call to service, above all a service ‘to the other.’” (I Am a Palestinian Christian, Fortress Press, 1995, p 66) He cites Torah where Abraham is blessed, not for his own benefit or for the amassing of wealth, but so that “all families of the earth shall be blessed” (Gen. 12.3).
God’s election is not for personal or national gain, but for the benefit of others. The formative story of Israel is the Exodus, the tale of a people oppressed and enslaved by a powerful nation, rescued by God. Palestinians today see themselves as the Israelites, deprived of their freedom by a strong military power, bent on imprisoning them. God is for them their savior, strengthening them for God’s work in the world.
—For what work is God is strengthening us?
O Lord our God, you have chosen us and made us your own. In our baptism you have claimed us. As you strengthen us daily for your work in the world, help us to discern your will and give us the courage to go out and do that work in our own community. In the name of your Son, the babe of Bethlehem, Amen.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Journey to Bethlehem in Advent
Tales from Bethlehem, Reflections on the Weekly Lectionary in Advent
I invite you to join me --- This is the first in a series of meditations for your Advent devotions, reflecting on the weekly texts for Advent through my experiences on two trips to Israel and Palestine this summer and fall.
Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us"....Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. (Luke 2.15-19)
The stories of Jesus’ birth are pilgrimage stories—Mary and Joseph walking the rocky hills and winding roads on their way to Bethlehem, the shepherds’ trek to the stable and the Holy Family’s flight along the coast to Egypt.
Today Bethlehem is in the West Bank, land designated by the Oslo Accord to be administered by the Palestinian Authority. But on my recent pilgrimage to the Holy Land, I saw that the reality on the ground is far different. Like Mary and Joseph, traveling pregnant from Nazareth to Bethlehem on the orders of the occupying Roman government, Palestinians’ lives today are shaped by the whims of the Israeli soldiers occupying their towns, guarding the checkpoints, controlling all movement. As I entered Bethlehem in June, 2008, I was shocked at the changes in the three years since my first visit. In the summer of 2005, when our bus arrived in Bethlehem, the Israeli security wall was being constructed. We saw the 30-foot high concrete barrier as it snaked around hills, cutting through Bethlehem’s olive groves, and, like a holiday parade, marching down the yellow line in the center of the main road into Bethlehem. That summer there were gaps in the wall, places where you could see through to the other side or walk around the wall….like the time we walked over a little hill to catch a bus into Jerusalem, avoiding the hassle at the checkpoint and the expense of two taxis.
When I returned in 2008, the Wall at the main entrance to Bethlehem was completed. There was a new checkpoint, with flower gardens and welcome banners proclaiming “Peace be with you.” Peace for the American tourists, with their blue passports, but not for the residents of Bethlehem. While our bus breezed through with a welcoming wave and a smile from the Israeli soldiers, Bethlehem residents stood in long lines to get to work. They must apply for permits weeks ahead of time, and only for a specific purpose. And, even if they are lucky enough to get a permit, they must wait, sometimes hours, every time they leave Bethlehem—daily for those who work in Jerusalem. We were told the beautification of the checkpoint came from USAID money, earmarked to make the checkpoints more “humane.” More humane for us perhaps, but not for the Palestinians on their way to work.
Today the wall divides the main road into Bethlehem, right down the middle—separating the houses on one side from their neighbors across the street. The stores selling olive wood nativity sets and religious jewelry are mostly closed now. Few tourists visit Bethlehem—they are told it is too dangerous. And no one wants to stop on this dreary street anymore, suffocating beneath the wall.And Mary kept these things and pondered them in her heart…
These meditations were written for pondering during Advent, the time when we wait for a miracle—the birth of a savior for the whole world. Bethlehem today is in desperate need of salvation, but as they wait for their miracle, these faithful people of the Holy Land—in Bethlehem, Hebron, Jerusalem, Gaza, Ramallah—take God’s promises to heart and use their energy to create a new reality for themselves and their children, a world where children are educated, the sick are healed and all can celebrate their rich Arab culture.
As I read the weekly Sunday texts for Advent this year, I remember the land I walked on my pilgrimage and the amazing people I met. These are some of the stories I heard—stories of desperation and stories of hope from the Christians, Jews and Muslims living today on the holy land of Jesus’ birth.
—Jan Miller, Advent, 2008
I invite you to join me --- This is the first in a series of meditations for your Advent devotions, reflecting on the weekly texts for Advent through my experiences on two trips to Israel and Palestine this summer and fall.
Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us"....Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. (Luke 2.15-19)
The stories of Jesus’ birth are pilgrimage stories—Mary and Joseph walking the rocky hills and winding roads on their way to Bethlehem, the shepherds’ trek to the stable and the Holy Family’s flight along the coast to Egypt.
Today Bethlehem is in the West Bank, land designated by the Oslo Accord to be administered by the Palestinian Authority. But on my recent pilgrimage to the Holy Land, I saw that the reality on the ground is far different. Like Mary and Joseph, traveling pregnant from Nazareth to Bethlehem on the orders of the occupying Roman government, Palestinians’ lives today are shaped by the whims of the Israeli soldiers occupying their towns, guarding the checkpoints, controlling all movement. As I entered Bethlehem in June, 2008, I was shocked at the changes in the three years since my first visit. In the summer of 2005, when our bus arrived in Bethlehem, the Israeli security wall was being constructed. We saw the 30-foot high concrete barrier as it snaked around hills, cutting through Bethlehem’s olive groves, and, like a holiday parade, marching down the yellow line in the center of the main road into Bethlehem. That summer there were gaps in the wall, places where you could see through to the other side or walk around the wall….like the time we walked over a little hill to catch a bus into Jerusalem, avoiding the hassle at the checkpoint and the expense of two taxis.
When I returned in 2008, the Wall at the main entrance to Bethlehem was completed. There was a new checkpoint, with flower gardens and welcome banners proclaiming “Peace be with you.” Peace for the American tourists, with their blue passports, but not for the residents of Bethlehem. While our bus breezed through with a welcoming wave and a smile from the Israeli soldiers, Bethlehem residents stood in long lines to get to work. They must apply for permits weeks ahead of time, and only for a specific purpose. And, even if they are lucky enough to get a permit, they must wait, sometimes hours, every time they leave Bethlehem—daily for those who work in Jerusalem. We were told the beautification of the checkpoint came from USAID money, earmarked to make the checkpoints more “humane.” More humane for us perhaps, but not for the Palestinians on their way to work.
Today the wall divides the main road into Bethlehem, right down the middle—separating the houses on one side from their neighbors across the street. The stores selling olive wood nativity sets and religious jewelry are mostly closed now. Few tourists visit Bethlehem—they are told it is too dangerous. And no one wants to stop on this dreary street anymore, suffocating beneath the wall.And Mary kept these things and pondered them in her heart…
These meditations were written for pondering during Advent, the time when we wait for a miracle—the birth of a savior for the whole world. Bethlehem today is in desperate need of salvation, but as they wait for their miracle, these faithful people of the Holy Land—in Bethlehem, Hebron, Jerusalem, Gaza, Ramallah—take God’s promises to heart and use their energy to create a new reality for themselves and their children, a world where children are educated, the sick are healed and all can celebrate their rich Arab culture.
As I read the weekly Sunday texts for Advent this year, I remember the land I walked on my pilgrimage and the amazing people I met. These are some of the stories I heard—stories of desperation and stories of hope from the Christians, Jews and Muslims living today on the holy land of Jesus’ birth.
—Jan Miller, Advent, 2008
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