Matthew 2.13-18
Tuesday on the church year calendar was the commemoration for the Holy Innocents, Martyrs, December 28. The day reminds us that throughout history, children have been the victims of the struggle for power. God’s command to Joseph is clear, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” (Matt 2.13)
As Joseph, Mary and Jesus fled to Egypt, they would most likely have traveled the road through what is now Gaza. Today in Gaza, children are routinely wounded and even killed by Israeli soldiers when they gather gravel to sell. During Christmas week, four people were injured, including a fourteen-year-old boy was shot in the head, as they gathered gravel in the northern part of Gaza, near the border with Israel. (Read the story: http://www.france24.com/en/20101223-israeli-gunfire-wounds-four-gaza )
In May, in Beit Ummar, just south of Bethlehem, I met the parents of a 14-year-old boy, Ibrahim, who had been arrested the week before for “throwing stones” (which he denied). His uncle and aunt had invited our Compassionate Listening group to their home. They were all part of a group called Wounded Crossing Borders, which brings together people on both sides of the conflict (Jew and Arab) who have been wounded or suffered the loss of loved ones. At the time, Ibrahim was still in detention and his parents had great difficulty being able to see him. (Read more about his story in a previous blog entry – Ibrahim was released and charges dismissed in mid-December, with the help of the Israelis in Wounded Crossing Borders.)
The statistics are alarming: According to Israeli police, 1200 Palestinian children have been arrested, interrogated and imprisoned in the occupied city of Jerusalem alone this year. The youngest of these children was seven years old. Children and teen-agers were often dragged out of their beds in the middle of the night, taken in handcuffs for questioning, threatened, humiliated and many were subjected to physical violence while under arrest as part of an ongoing campaign against the children of Palestine. Since the year 2000, more than 8000 have been arrested by Israel, and reports of mistreatment are commonplace. Further, based on sworn affidavits collected in 2009 from 100 of these children, lawyers working in the occupied West Bank with Defense Children International, a Geneva-based non governmental organization, found that 69% were beaten and kicked, 49% were threatened, 14% were held in solitary confinement, 12% were threatened with sexual assault, including rape, and 32% were forced to sign confessions written in Hebrew, a language they do not understand. Minors were often asked to give names and incriminate friends and relatives as a condition of their release. Such institutionalized and systematic mistreatment of Palestinian children by the state of Israel is a violation international law and specifically contravenes the Convention on the Rights of the Child to which Israel is supposedly a signatory. (source: http://www.al-awda.org/alert-children3.html )
Gracious God, you protected your son from the brutality of empire. Help us continue your work by protecting the children who are endangered in our world today, including the children who live today in the land where your son Jesus walked. Help us bring Jesus’ healing touch to those who suffer. Amen.
Use the action alert below to protest the treatment of children by the Israeli military:
Petition - Free The Children of Palestine!
December 17, 2010
ACT NOW!
Please take a moment to read and sign the online petition at: http://www.gopetition.com/petition/41467.html
This petition demands that President Barak Obama direct Israel to release all Palestinian children detained in its prisons and detention centers immediately, and to end all forms of systematic and institutionalized abuse that it practices against the children of Palestine.
Please ask your friends and contacts to do the same.
Until Return,
Al-Awda, The Palestine Right to Return Coalition
PO Box 131352
Carlsbad, CA 92013, USA
Tel: 760-918-9441
Fax: 760-918-9442
E-mail: info@al-awda.org
WWW: http://al-awda.org
Al-Awda, The Palestine Right to Return Coalition (PRRC) is a not for profit tax-exempt educational and charitable 501(c)(3) organization as defined by the Internal Revenue Service (IRS) of the United States of America. Under IRS guidelines, your donations to PRRC are tax-deductible. To donate, please go to http://www.al-awda.org/donate.html and follow the instructions. To become a member, go to http://al-awda.org/membership.html
Friday, December 31, 2010
Friday, December 24, 2010
Tonight in Bethlehem
Last-minute note: On Thursday, Dr. Mazin Qumsiyeh was arrested in Al-Walaja, where he is involved with the demonstrations against Israel’s building of the separation wall (see map—Al-Walaja is in upper left, dotted red line is where the wall is now being constructed). Watch a video where he describes his arrest and subsequent release: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vaa_6I-PMoM . More demonstrations are planned for Friday, Christmas Eve.
Christmas Eve, Luke
Luke 2.1-20
In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. (photo: Bethlehem checkpoint, 2008)
All went to their own towns to be registered. (photo: Bethlehem checkpoint, 2009)
Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. (photo: Bethlehem's main street, divided by the wall)
He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. (photo: family being evicted, Al-Aruqib, July, 2010)
While they were there the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. (photo: Bedouin village of Al-Araqib, demolished by Israeli soldiers July, 2010)
In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel sais to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. (photo is Beit Sahour, "Shepherds' Fields," where Israeli military is building a guard tower)
Christmas Eve, LukeLuke 2.1-20
In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. (photo: Bethlehem checkpoint, 2008)
All went to their own towns to be registered. (photo: Bethlehem checkpoint, 2009)Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. (photo: Bethlehem's main street, divided by the wall)
He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. (photo: family being evicted, Al-Aruqib, July, 2010)
While they were there the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. (photo: Bedouin village of Al-Araqib, demolished by Israeli soldiers July, 2010)
In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel sais to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. (photo is Beit Sahour, "Shepherds' Fields," where Israeli military is building a guard tower)
This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,
Glory to God in the hightest heaven,
And on earth peace among those whom he favors!” (photo: Christmas Lutheran Church, Bethlehem)
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” (photo: the Wall in Bethlehem)
So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.
God of all miracles, you sent your son into a suffering world. He healed the sick, cast out demons and fed the hungry. Be with us tonight as we ponder all that we have seen and heard. Guide our hearts in your way of reconciliation, and stir us to action in the name of our savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Waiting in Hope
Christmas Eve, Titus
Titus 2.11-14
“While we wait for the blessed hope….”
While we sit in our pews and sing, “Silent Night,” Christians in Bethlehem and the rest of the West Bank and Gaza, struggle under the occupation. In their daily lives there is no silent night, no calm and brightness, little sleep. While we sing “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” its people do not experience stillness or quiet; their dreams are interrupted by nightmares of families separated, sons arrested, children who must move away to find work. Take a look at Bethlehem behind the wall and view some of the realities of their daily lives:
“Christmas Canceled in Bethlehem”: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5is-SAPSrQ&NR=1
You might expect them to be feeling hopeless this Christmas Eve, but that is not the case. You see, they really believe the grace of God HAS appeared; and they like to remind visitors that it happened right there, in their town. So they live their lives “zealous for good deeds” –living AS IF the wall did not exist, doing whatever it takes to create a full life for them and for their children behind the wall. They have been “zealous for good deeds,” building a school for all the children of their community—Christians and Muslims alike, believing that miracles are possible because they have seen it in their town.
God of all hope, your words call us to remember your Son and your promises of salvation, signs of your faithfulness. Help us to trust your promises and to be zealous in good deeds for the freeing of all people living under oppression, in Israel, the West Bank and Gaza, and all over the world where there is suffering and injustice. Amen.
Titus 2.11-14
“While we wait for the blessed hope….”
While we sit in our pews and sing, “Silent Night,” Christians in Bethlehem and the rest of the West Bank and Gaza, struggle under the occupation. In their daily lives there is no silent night, no calm and brightness, little sleep. While we sing “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” its people do not experience stillness or quiet; their dreams are interrupted by nightmares of families separated, sons arrested, children who must move away to find work. Take a look at Bethlehem behind the wall and view some of the realities of their daily lives:
“Christmas Canceled in Bethlehem”: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5is-SAPSrQ&NR=1
You might expect them to be feeling hopeless this Christmas Eve, but that is not the case. You see, they really believe the grace of God HAS appeared; and they like to remind visitors that it happened right there, in their town. So they live their lives “zealous for good deeds” –living AS IF the wall did not exist, doing whatever it takes to create a full life for them and for their children behind the wall. They have been “zealous for good deeds,” building a school for all the children of their community—Christians and Muslims alike, believing that miracles are possible because they have seen it in their town.
God of all hope, your words call us to remember your Son and your promises of salvation, signs of your faithfulness. Help us to trust your promises and to be zealous in good deeds for the freeing of all people living under oppression, in Israel, the West Bank and Gaza, and all over the world where there is suffering and injustice. Amen.
Monday, December 20, 2010
The Un-Stable in Bethlehem
Christmas Eve
Isaiah 9.2-7
"For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders,
The rod of the oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian." (Is 9.4)
Isaiah’s message addresses a particular historical situation. The words of the prophets, in fact are messages from God addressed to a particular people in a particular time. When Isaiah spoke, the people of Israel were living under military oppression and his words address specific suffering human beings. They were threatened from the north by the Assyrian king Tiglath-pileser III, who had already conquered the northern kingdom (732 BCE).
On Christmas Eve we will each hear these words in our own context. If you live in Bethlehem and are sitting in the pews at the Christmas Lutheran Church Bethlehem, you will hear these words and quickly identify with your long-ago ancestors, fearful of an attack by the Assyrian armies. Because the people of Bethlehem know how it feels to be threatened by foreign armies. On Christmas Eve, Israeli soldiers are patrolling the roads of Bethlehem near the settlements of Har Homa and Gilo, which have been built on Bethlehem’s land. On Christmas Eve, Israel’s army stands at the entrances to their town and decides who will enter and leave.
Christians in Jerusalem and the West Bank have been accustomed to traveling to Bethlehem to worship at the Church of the Nativity or Christmas Lutheran Church on Christmas Eve. Both churches were built to commemorate Christ’s birth—the Church of the Nativity was first dedicated on May 31, 339. Both churches, along with many of the buildings in the old part of Bethlehem, were built over caves, where people had once lived. Jerome writes from Bethlehem in AD 395, about “the cave where the infant Messiah once cried…” He lived and wrote in Bethlehem for many years; this is where he made a new translation of the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament—the Vulgate, which was the authoritative translation for Catholics until the 20th century. Thus we know that Bethlehem was an important center for Christian pilgrims, at least from the fourth century.
Christians today still come to Bethlehem. So, if you were coming from Ramallah to Bethlehem, even though both are cities within the West Bank nominally under Palestinian governance, you would have to go through several Israeli checkpoints. If you are a Palestinian living five miles away in Jerusalem, you would have to enter Bethlehem through the checkpoint, where the soldiers have the authority to permit or deny you entry. If you live in Bethlehem and want to visit your family in Jerusalem, you would need a permit; most permit applications are refused.
The people of Bethlehem also live in daily fear that Israel’s armies will enter their town with their tanks and machine guns and grenades, as they did in 2002. Palestinians have no army; they have only the police who are ineffective to protect them from tanks and mortars.
So Christmas Eve’s lesson from Isaiah is very good news for the people of Bethlehem and for all of us:
“For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire.” The end of the bloodshed and fighting. This is what the Lutherans living in Bethlehem long for—an end to Israel’s occupation, an end to the bloodshed, peace in their land.
Take a look at the Bethlehem checkpoint: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5is-SAPSrQ&NR=1
Lord of light in the darkness, Prince of Peace, fill us with your presence this Christmas. Like the babe born in the stable, we are your body in the world. Give us strength and courage to be your coworkers for peace and justice, bringing good news to those who suffer under the burden of oppression and fear. Amen.
Isaiah 9.2-7
"For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders,
The rod of the oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian." (Is 9.4)
Isaiah’s message addresses a particular historical situation. The words of the prophets, in fact are messages from God addressed to a particular people in a particular time. When Isaiah spoke, the people of Israel were living under military oppression and his words address specific suffering human beings. They were threatened from the north by the Assyrian king Tiglath-pileser III, who had already conquered the northern kingdom (732 BCE).
On Christmas Eve we will each hear these words in our own context. If you live in Bethlehem and are sitting in the pews at the Christmas Lutheran Church Bethlehem, you will hear these words and quickly identify with your long-ago ancestors, fearful of an attack by the Assyrian armies. Because the people of Bethlehem know how it feels to be threatened by foreign armies. On Christmas Eve, Israeli soldiers are patrolling the roads of Bethlehem near the settlements of Har Homa and Gilo, which have been built on Bethlehem’s land. On Christmas Eve, Israel’s army stands at the entrances to their town and decides who will enter and leave.
Christians in Jerusalem and the West Bank have been accustomed to traveling to Bethlehem to worship at the Church of the Nativity or Christmas Lutheran Church on Christmas Eve. Both churches were built to commemorate Christ’s birth—the Church of the Nativity was first dedicated on May 31, 339. Both churches, along with many of the buildings in the old part of Bethlehem, were built over caves, where people had once lived. Jerome writes from Bethlehem in AD 395, about “the cave where the infant Messiah once cried…” He lived and wrote in Bethlehem for many years; this is where he made a new translation of the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament—the Vulgate, which was the authoritative translation for Catholics until the 20th century. Thus we know that Bethlehem was an important center for Christian pilgrims, at least from the fourth century.
Christians today still come to Bethlehem. So, if you were coming from Ramallah to Bethlehem, even though both are cities within the West Bank nominally under Palestinian governance, you would have to go through several Israeli checkpoints. If you are a Palestinian living five miles away in Jerusalem, you would have to enter Bethlehem through the checkpoint, where the soldiers have the authority to permit or deny you entry. If you live in Bethlehem and want to visit your family in Jerusalem, you would need a permit; most permit applications are refused.
The people of Bethlehem also live in daily fear that Israel’s armies will enter their town with their tanks and machine guns and grenades, as they did in 2002. Palestinians have no army; they have only the police who are ineffective to protect them from tanks and mortars.
So Christmas Eve’s lesson from Isaiah is very good news for the people of Bethlehem and for all of us:
“For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire.” The end of the bloodshed and fighting. This is what the Lutherans living in Bethlehem long for—an end to Israel’s occupation, an end to the bloodshed, peace in their land.
Take a look at the Bethlehem checkpoint: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5is-SAPSrQ&NR=1
Lord of light in the darkness, Prince of Peace, fill us with your presence this Christmas. Like the babe born in the stable, we are your body in the world. Give us strength and courage to be your coworkers for peace and justice, bringing good news to those who suffer under the burden of oppression and fear. Amen.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Out of the Messiness
Advent 4 – Matthew
Matthew 1.18-25
“Joseph, being unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.” (Mt 1.19)
Our Advent preparations may include spending lots of money on the most beautiful Christmas tree, spending long hours in the kitchen to make the perfect Christmas cookies, planning family outings that will delight everyone—laboring to create the ideal Christmas full of love, peace, joy and harmony. But this week’s gospel reminds us that in the real world, things are never perfect. And this is where God works miracles—right in the middle of our messy, confused and chaotic lives.
Bethlehem’s Christmases in the past few years have not been picture-perfect. While we eagerly anticipate sitting in our pews on Christmas Eve and singing “O Little Town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie,” the people of Bethlehem stand in line for permits to visit their families; most of the permits will be denied. While we sing “Above thy deep and dreamless sleep,” Suleiman cannot sleep because he worries that he will not be able to pass through the checkpoint tomorrow morning to get to Jerusalem to guide the tour group he is scheduled to meet at 8:00 am. While we sing about the “silent stars” going by, the people of Bethlehem hear the droning of the bulldozers and the earth-movers, building even more of the 25-foot-high security wall that surrounds their town, cutting them off from their friends and families.
While we drive fifteen minutes to church, the Palestinian Christians who live in Ramallah or Jerusalem will spend hours driving on the back roads which they are allowed to use, or waiting at checkpoints, on their way to worship at the Church of the Nativity or the Christmas Lutheran Church, where they have gathered for centuries to observe Christ’s birth.
Out of the chaos and scandal of Jesus’ birth, God delivered a savior for the whole world. Out of the chaos and the scandal of Israel’s occupation, God still works redemption today.
On November 30, in Bethlehem, people gathered from all over the world to dedicate a new college, Dar al-Kalima. The school began admitting students in
2007 and they have graduated two classes of students already (see photo). Now they are moving into a new building which will enable them to admit more students, expand their programs from two-year degrees to four-year degrees and serve their students more effectively. It is the first Lutheran college in the Middle East. In the West Bank, where Israel grants few permits for students to study abroad, students are now able to train in the Arts, Multimedia, Communications, and Tourism Studies. Students learn documentary filmmaking, ceramics and glass, and contemporary fine arts.
With around 57% of the Palestinian population under the age of 19, the college is a sign of hope for the future of these people who feel imprisoned behind the wall and the barbed wire. The college is a sign of God’s intention to bring forth life out of death. The birth of the college is a sign of hope and new life, a sign of Emmanuel, “God with us.”
Read more about the college and see pictures. Learn how you can support this work.
[Good news note from last Friday's post: Ibrahim has been released by the court. The Wounded Crossing Borders members wrote letters and testified in court on behalf of the family -- to read his story see: http://apilgrimstales.blogspot.com/2010/10/each-of-us-has-part.html ].
God of new possibilities, you have shown us your grace, which brings life out of death, hope out of darkness. Quite our fears of chaos and give us courage to partner with others and share in your life-saving work. Amen.
Matthew 1.18-25
“Joseph, being unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.” (Mt 1.19)
Our Advent preparations may include spending lots of money on the most beautiful Christmas tree, spending long hours in the kitchen to make the perfect Christmas cookies, planning family outings that will delight everyone—laboring to create the ideal Christmas full of love, peace, joy and harmony. But this week’s gospel reminds us that in the real world, things are never perfect. And this is where God works miracles—right in the middle of our messy, confused and chaotic lives.
Bethlehem’s Christmases in the past few years have not been picture-perfect. While we eagerly anticipate sitting in our pews on Christmas Eve and singing “O Little Town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie,” the people of Bethlehem stand in line for permits to visit their families; most of the permits will be denied. While we sing “Above thy deep and dreamless sleep,” Suleiman cannot sleep because he worries that he will not be able to pass through the checkpoint tomorrow morning to get to Jerusalem to guide the tour group he is scheduled to meet at 8:00 am. While we sing about the “silent stars” going by, the people of Bethlehem hear the droning of the bulldozers and the earth-movers, building even more of the 25-foot-high security wall that surrounds their town, cutting them off from their friends and families.
While we drive fifteen minutes to church, the Palestinian Christians who live in Ramallah or Jerusalem will spend hours driving on the back roads which they are allowed to use, or waiting at checkpoints, on their way to worship at the Church of the Nativity or the Christmas Lutheran Church, where they have gathered for centuries to observe Christ’s birth.
Out of the chaos and scandal of Jesus’ birth, God delivered a savior for the whole world. Out of the chaos and the scandal of Israel’s occupation, God still works redemption today.
On November 30, in Bethlehem, people gathered from all over the world to dedicate a new college, Dar al-Kalima. The school began admitting students in
2007 and they have graduated two classes of students already (see photo). Now they are moving into a new building which will enable them to admit more students, expand their programs from two-year degrees to four-year degrees and serve their students more effectively. It is the first Lutheran college in the Middle East. In the West Bank, where Israel grants few permits for students to study abroad, students are now able to train in the Arts, Multimedia, Communications, and Tourism Studies. Students learn documentary filmmaking, ceramics and glass, and contemporary fine arts.With around 57% of the Palestinian population under the age of 19, the college is a sign of hope for the future of these people who feel imprisoned behind the wall and the barbed wire. The college is a sign of God’s intention to bring forth life out of death. The birth of the college is a sign of hope and new life, a sign of Emmanuel, “God with us.”
Read more about the college and see pictures. Learn how you can support this work.
[Good news note from last Friday's post: Ibrahim has been released by the court. The Wounded Crossing Borders members wrote letters and testified in court on behalf of the family -- to read his story see: http://apilgrimstales.blogspot.com/2010/10/each-of-us-has-part.html ].
God of new possibilities, you have shown us your grace, which brings life out of death, hope out of darkness. Quite our fears of chaos and give us courage to partner with others and share in your life-saving work. Amen.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Redemption and Hope in the Holy Land
Advent 4 – Romans
Romans 1.1-7
In this very beginning of Paul’s letter to the Romans, we read what we often forget—that Paul was called first to be set apart for the gospel of God. Paul clearly sees the gospel of Jesus Christ as a mission. According to Paul, just as Moses and the prophets were God’s word to the Israelites, Jesus is God’s word to the Gentiles—to the non-Jews. As God had already spoken to the Israelites through the prophets, Paul now experiences God speaking to the rest of the world through Jesus Christ.
In the narratives of Advent and Christmas, we are made very aware of Jesus’ Jewish identity and his Palestinian birth—his connection to the land, to the town of David, Bethlehem. And so we are reminded, on the eve of the birth of our savior, that we, too, are shoots from these same Jewish and Palestinian roots.
In his letter to the Romans, Paul is working out a dilemma. Does Christ’s coming mean that the Jews are no longer God’s chosen people? By failing to receive Christ, have the Jews forfeited their place with God? Paul answers with certainty, “No.” Just as the Israelites came to faith in God through Moses, so now the Gentiles have been invited to faith in God through Jesus Christ. His conclusion becomes most clear in chapter 11, when he concludes that “the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable.” (v. 29). Through God all things are possible.
Just as God led the people of Israel through the Red Sea to the promised land, so God continues to offer redemption and hope through Christians today.
Most of us have grown up with the myth that enmity has existed for centuries between Jews and Palestinians. Therefore, there is not really much we can do—they will never get along.
This is not the reality I have seen on the ground in the West Bank and in Israel, where I have met many people working to bring reconciliation When I was traveling with a Compassionate Listening delegation in May, we met with Sami Awad, Executive Director of the Holy Land Trust. We sat mesmerized as he talked about his work to reconcile Palestinians and Israelis.
He told us the story of his father, who was forced to leave his home in Jerusalem in 1948. Sami’s grandfather was killed by a sniper. His grandmother, unable to provide for her children, placed Sami’s father in an orphanage, where he grew up in a building overlooking his old house; he was nine years old. Although Sami’s father could have grown up resentful of the soldiers who killed his father, his mother was careful to instill in her children the value of forgiveness and reconciliation. She taught her children, “If the Israeli soldier who shot your father knew who he was, he would not have pulled the trigger.” Sami lives by his grandmother’s values today.
Seeing the need to recognize the holocaust as a human tragedy, he has traveled to Auschwitz twice, spending ten days there each time, in prayer, in meditation and experiencing the death camps. Watch a 5-minute YouTube video of him as he tells us his story: http://leahdgreen.blogspot.com/2010/05/sami-awad-on-auschwitz-fear-and-meaning.html
If you have a chance to see it, his story is also featured in the film, “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” http://littletownofbethlehem.org/
God of all hope, in your son’s death on the cross, you showed us true reconciliation and the way to peace through forgiveness. Help us to follow in his way of peace, building bridges where there is enmity and nurturing understanding where there is fear. Amen.
Romans 1.1-7
In this very beginning of Paul’s letter to the Romans, we read what we often forget—that Paul was called first to be set apart for the gospel of God. Paul clearly sees the gospel of Jesus Christ as a mission. According to Paul, just as Moses and the prophets were God’s word to the Israelites, Jesus is God’s word to the Gentiles—to the non-Jews. As God had already spoken to the Israelites through the prophets, Paul now experiences God speaking to the rest of the world through Jesus Christ.
In the narratives of Advent and Christmas, we are made very aware of Jesus’ Jewish identity and his Palestinian birth—his connection to the land, to the town of David, Bethlehem. And so we are reminded, on the eve of the birth of our savior, that we, too, are shoots from these same Jewish and Palestinian roots.
In his letter to the Romans, Paul is working out a dilemma. Does Christ’s coming mean that the Jews are no longer God’s chosen people? By failing to receive Christ, have the Jews forfeited their place with God? Paul answers with certainty, “No.” Just as the Israelites came to faith in God through Moses, so now the Gentiles have been invited to faith in God through Jesus Christ. His conclusion becomes most clear in chapter 11, when he concludes that “the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable.” (v. 29). Through God all things are possible.
Just as God led the people of Israel through the Red Sea to the promised land, so God continues to offer redemption and hope through Christians today.
Most of us have grown up with the myth that enmity has existed for centuries between Jews and Palestinians. Therefore, there is not really much we can do—they will never get along.
This is not the reality I have seen on the ground in the West Bank and in Israel, where I have met many people working to bring reconciliation When I was traveling with a Compassionate Listening delegation in May, we met with Sami Awad, Executive Director of the Holy Land Trust. We sat mesmerized as he talked about his work to reconcile Palestinians and Israelis.
He told us the story of his father, who was forced to leave his home in Jerusalem in 1948. Sami’s grandfather was killed by a sniper. His grandmother, unable to provide for her children, placed Sami’s father in an orphanage, where he grew up in a building overlooking his old house; he was nine years old. Although Sami’s father could have grown up resentful of the soldiers who killed his father, his mother was careful to instill in her children the value of forgiveness and reconciliation. She taught her children, “If the Israeli soldier who shot your father knew who he was, he would not have pulled the trigger.” Sami lives by his grandmother’s values today.
Seeing the need to recognize the holocaust as a human tragedy, he has traveled to Auschwitz twice, spending ten days there each time, in prayer, in meditation and experiencing the death camps. Watch a 5-minute YouTube video of him as he tells us his story: http://leahdgreen.blogspot.com/2010/05/sami-awad-on-auschwitz-fear-and-meaning.html
If you have a chance to see it, his story is also featured in the film, “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” http://littletownofbethlehem.org/
God of all hope, in your son’s death on the cross, you showed us true reconciliation and the way to peace through forgiveness. Help us to follow in his way of peace, building bridges where there is enmity and nurturing understanding where there is fear. Amen.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Not in My Name
Advent 4 – Isaiah
Isaiah 7.10-16
Jerusalem is under grave threat. The Assyrian king Tiglath-pileser III is planning to attack the smaller states in the region and those leaders are forming alliances to defend themselves. Because King Ahaz has refused to join them, two kings of these smaller states are planning a coup to install a ruler who will join them in their defense against Assyria. Ahaz and all the people of Judah are terrified, “and the heart of his people shook as the trees of the forest shake before the wind.” (Is 7.2)
In this time of terror, God sends Isaiah to tell King Ahaz, “do not fear, and do not let your heart be faint.” (Is 7.4) Isaiah carries a reassurance from God—soon these two kings will be destroyed. Isaiah is sent to remind Ahaz that his job is to trust in God for safety—not rely on alliances with his neighbors.
Isaiah offers him a sign, but Ahaz refuses, pretending piety, saying he does not want to put God to the test. But the bottom line is that Ahaz does not want a sign from God. Ahaz would rather rely on allies with weapons and armies than depend on God and God’s puny little prophet promising salvation. Isaiah gives him a sign anyway—a pregnant woman announcing salvation with her pregnant belly, carrying “God with us” through Jerusalem’s streets.
Pregnancy and birth—the messiest and most dangerous time in the life for both mother and baby—and universally a source of joy and hope, even in the most dire circumstances. Babies are signs of a future we cannot imagine, a future beyond our lifetime. And Isaiah’s baby, in the womb of the young woman, bears God’s own presence, right there in Jerusalem, among the people whose hearts are quaking.
Things are much the same in Jerusalem today. Palestinians in East Jerusalem live with the daily terror that the police might show up at breakfast and drag them into the streets, evicting them from their homes to make way for Jewish families to move in. Jewish residents are fearful of suicide bombers, or that they will soon be in the minority, that the Palestinians will outnumber them. Other Jewish residents fear that Israel’s unjust treatment of the Palestinians is undermining the very fabric of their society; militarization of their country is teaching their children that Palestinians are less than human, that Palestinians’ well-being does not matter.
We might ask, Where is Isaiah today? Who is speaking out, offering God’s wisdom and reassuring the rulers and the people of God’s faithfulness? Who is calming the fears?
I met one such prophet at the weekly demonstration in Sheikh Jarrah, a Palestinian neighborhood in East Jerusalem, next to the Old City.
Over the past few years, the Israeli government has been evicting Palestinian families from their homes in Sheikh Jarrah. The day I was there we met Nasser Ghawi, whose family had lived in their home in Sheikh Jarrah since the early 1950s, when they were given the home by the U.N. Nasser’s father was a refugee fleeing from the Israeli paramilitaries like the Hagannah, that were removing Palestinians from their homes in 1947-49 (for a complete history of the removals, read Ilan Pappe’s The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine). Nasser’s father gave up his refugee status, trading his refugee status for the home, but now an Israeli court has ruled against his petition to keep the home and his family was evicted. The new occupants have erected a giant orange menorah on the roof.
After we talked with Nasser Ghawi we went to the demonstration, a noisy sort of street fair—orange juice vendors, poster-waving protestors, children playing, fathers carrying toddlers in their arms, and an Arab family escorted by a band of drummers (see photo). Across the street were the Israeli soldiers and the police—some were standing at barricades blocking access to the Ghawi home; some were taking photos of the demonstrators.
I was surprised to realize that almost all the demonstrators were Jewish. I couldn’t read the Hebrew on the signs, so I asked one young woman what her sign said. She told me “Not in my name.” She said that she did not want her government to remove Palestinians from their homes for her sake. She was in no danger from these families and she did not want her government using her tax dollars to commit such an injustice. She wanted everyone to live in peace and security. She was speaking boldly to the ruling powers of Jerusalem; she was offering her face to the police cameras; she was risking arrest as she used her voice to calm the fears of her people. She told me her parents were divided on the issue; her father supported the government; her mother did not. But her family supported her in speaking her mind.
I don’t know the young woman’s name, or even whether she was religious. I do know that she spoke God’s truth, and that she was not the only Jewish prophet there that day, proclaiming good news to the rulers and to the people of Jerusalem, offering them a future and a hope. Please keep her and the other demonstrators who gather every Shabbat (Friday evening) in Sheikh Jarrah in your prayers.
God of the prophets, you sent your messengers to declare hope for the victims of injustice, to calm the fears of the terrified. Help us to recognize your messengers of hope in the confusion and terror we are feeling today. Help us to trust your promises and to boldly live into your promises through our actions. Amen.
Isaiah 7.10-16
Jerusalem is under grave threat. The Assyrian king Tiglath-pileser III is planning to attack the smaller states in the region and those leaders are forming alliances to defend themselves. Because King Ahaz has refused to join them, two kings of these smaller states are planning a coup to install a ruler who will join them in their defense against Assyria. Ahaz and all the people of Judah are terrified, “and the heart of his people shook as the trees of the forest shake before the wind.” (Is 7.2)
In this time of terror, God sends Isaiah to tell King Ahaz, “do not fear, and do not let your heart be faint.” (Is 7.4) Isaiah carries a reassurance from God—soon these two kings will be destroyed. Isaiah is sent to remind Ahaz that his job is to trust in God for safety—not rely on alliances with his neighbors.
Isaiah offers him a sign, but Ahaz refuses, pretending piety, saying he does not want to put God to the test. But the bottom line is that Ahaz does not want a sign from God. Ahaz would rather rely on allies with weapons and armies than depend on God and God’s puny little prophet promising salvation. Isaiah gives him a sign anyway—a pregnant woman announcing salvation with her pregnant belly, carrying “God with us” through Jerusalem’s streets.
Pregnancy and birth—the messiest and most dangerous time in the life for both mother and baby—and universally a source of joy and hope, even in the most dire circumstances. Babies are signs of a future we cannot imagine, a future beyond our lifetime. And Isaiah’s baby, in the womb of the young woman, bears God’s own presence, right there in Jerusalem, among the people whose hearts are quaking.
Things are much the same in Jerusalem today. Palestinians in East Jerusalem live with the daily terror that the police might show up at breakfast and drag them into the streets, evicting them from their homes to make way for Jewish families to move in. Jewish residents are fearful of suicide bombers, or that they will soon be in the minority, that the Palestinians will outnumber them. Other Jewish residents fear that Israel’s unjust treatment of the Palestinians is undermining the very fabric of their society; militarization of their country is teaching their children that Palestinians are less than human, that Palestinians’ well-being does not matter.
We might ask, Where is Isaiah today? Who is speaking out, offering God’s wisdom and reassuring the rulers and the people of God’s faithfulness? Who is calming the fears?
I met one such prophet at the weekly demonstration in Sheikh Jarrah, a Palestinian neighborhood in East Jerusalem, next to the Old City.
Over the past few years, the Israeli government has been evicting Palestinian families from their homes in Sheikh Jarrah. The day I was there we met Nasser Ghawi, whose family had lived in their home in Sheikh Jarrah since the early 1950s, when they were given the home by the U.N. Nasser’s father was a refugee fleeing from the Israeli paramilitaries like the Hagannah, that were removing Palestinians from their homes in 1947-49 (for a complete history of the removals, read Ilan Pappe’s The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine). Nasser’s father gave up his refugee status, trading his refugee status for the home, but now an Israeli court has ruled against his petition to keep the home and his family was evicted. The new occupants have erected a giant orange menorah on the roof.
After we talked with Nasser Ghawi we went to the demonstration, a noisy sort of street fair—orange juice vendors, poster-waving protestors, children playing, fathers carrying toddlers in their arms, and an Arab family escorted by a band of drummers (see photo). Across the street were the Israeli soldiers and the police—some were standing at barricades blocking access to the Ghawi home; some were taking photos of the demonstrators.
I was surprised to realize that almost all the demonstrators were Jewish. I couldn’t read the Hebrew on the signs, so I asked one young woman what her sign said. She told me “Not in my name.” She said that she did not want her government to remove Palestinians from their homes for her sake. She was in no danger from these families and she did not want her government using her tax dollars to commit such an injustice. She wanted everyone to live in peace and security. She was speaking boldly to the ruling powers of Jerusalem; she was offering her face to the police cameras; she was risking arrest as she used her voice to calm the fears of her people. She told me her parents were divided on the issue; her father supported the government; her mother did not. But her family supported her in speaking her mind.
I don’t know the young woman’s name, or even whether she was religious. I do know that she spoke God’s truth, and that she was not the only Jewish prophet there that day, proclaiming good news to the rulers and to the people of Jerusalem, offering them a future and a hope. Please keep her and the other demonstrators who gather every Shabbat (Friday evening) in Sheikh Jarrah in your prayers.
God of the prophets, you sent your messengers to declare hope for the victims of injustice, to calm the fears of the terrified. Help us to recognize your messengers of hope in the confusion and terror we are feeling today. Help us to trust your promises and to boldly live into your promises through our actions. Amen.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Go and Tell What You Hear and See
Advent 3 - Matthew
Matthew 11.2-11
“Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear and the poor have good news brought to them.” (Mt 11.4-5)
I wouldn’t be sitting here at the computer if I had not heard these very words from people I have met in Palestine and Israel. Each time I visit, I hear stories of how the occupation makes life very difficult for Palestinians. Workers wait two hours at the checkpoint in Bethlehem each morning on their way to work. Furniture, light fixtures and other supplies for building the new college in Bethlehem sit for days at the checkpoint awaiting Israeli approval. Fourteen-year-old Ibrahim is dragged from his home in the middle of the night, beaten by the soldiers in front of his family and hauled off to jail. Sousan must order merchandise for her dress shop in Beit Jala over the internet; she cannot see the quality of the clothing she orders because she cannot get a permit to attend the trade shows in Tel Aviv. Angie has been denied a permit to travel to Jerusalem to get a visa to come to graduate school in the U.S. George must be sure to fill the water tanks on top of his house when the water is flowing because it is shut off most of the time, even though the nearby Israeli settlement has plenty of water for its lush landscaping.
When I hear these stories I always ask people I meet what they need from me. Even though I hope for something simpler (like sending a check), the answer is always the same: “Tell our story. Go and tell what you have seen and heard.” It has become my mantra, my guiding principle—and I’m sure many people are tired of my stories.
But I cannot stop telling them because of the miracle of sight I have received as I have walked the dusty roads of the West Bank and the cobbled streets of Jerusalem’s Old City. I HAVE seen healing miracles. I have heard the miracle of God’s good news to these people in God’s own land.
And I have seen the miracle of deafness cured.
For most of my life, I have known that there were people in Palestine who were suffering. They were far away in a land I didn’t understand. I felt sorry for their plight, but I thought they probably brought many of their troubles on themselves—with their suicide bombers and their uncompromising demands for their land. I was deaf to their cries for help; I was deaf to their insistence that America had anything to do with their problems. America is too far away; what can we do? I thought eventually, when they choose wiser leaders, when all the details are worked out, there will be peace. I shut my ears.
When I went to the Holy Land for the first time in 2005, I was shocked. My ears (and my eyes) were opened and I could no longer be silent. It’s not that now I understand the situation, but I cannot stop reading and listening. I learn something new every day, because once my ears were opened, I could no longer shut out the cries for justice.
Photo is Sami Awad, a Palestinian Christian and Executive Director of the Holy Land Trust in Bethlehem, telling us about his reconciling work with Israelis.
A year ago in Advent, on December 15, 2009, our Palestinian sisters and brothers in faith issued a call to action to the world’s Christians. Kairos Palestine: A Moment of Truth, tells the world about the “Glory of the grace of God in this land and in the sufferings of its people.” They ask us to hear their cries and stand with them as they resist the injustice they are suffering. They ask us to work for a just peace. Read their call to us: http://www.kairospalestine.ps/
God of miracles, in Advent we prepare to celebrate the miracle of the birth of your son, who brought healing and sight to those who were blind. Cure our blindness with your healing touch. Open our ears to the cries of your people in troubled places all over the world…and at home. Make us your agents of healing and hope. Amen.
Matthew 11.2-11
“Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear and the poor have good news brought to them.” (Mt 11.4-5)
I wouldn’t be sitting here at the computer if I had not heard these very words from people I have met in Palestine and Israel. Each time I visit, I hear stories of how the occupation makes life very difficult for Palestinians. Workers wait two hours at the checkpoint in Bethlehem each morning on their way to work. Furniture, light fixtures and other supplies for building the new college in Bethlehem sit for days at the checkpoint awaiting Israeli approval. Fourteen-year-old Ibrahim is dragged from his home in the middle of the night, beaten by the soldiers in front of his family and hauled off to jail. Sousan must order merchandise for her dress shop in Beit Jala over the internet; she cannot see the quality of the clothing she orders because she cannot get a permit to attend the trade shows in Tel Aviv. Angie has been denied a permit to travel to Jerusalem to get a visa to come to graduate school in the U.S. George must be sure to fill the water tanks on top of his house when the water is flowing because it is shut off most of the time, even though the nearby Israeli settlement has plenty of water for its lush landscaping.
When I hear these stories I always ask people I meet what they need from me. Even though I hope for something simpler (like sending a check), the answer is always the same: “Tell our story. Go and tell what you have seen and heard.” It has become my mantra, my guiding principle—and I’m sure many people are tired of my stories.
But I cannot stop telling them because of the miracle of sight I have received as I have walked the dusty roads of the West Bank and the cobbled streets of Jerusalem’s Old City. I HAVE seen healing miracles. I have heard the miracle of God’s good news to these people in God’s own land.
And I have seen the miracle of deafness cured.
For most of my life, I have known that there were people in Palestine who were suffering. They were far away in a land I didn’t understand. I felt sorry for their plight, but I thought they probably brought many of their troubles on themselves—with their suicide bombers and their uncompromising demands for their land. I was deaf to their cries for help; I was deaf to their insistence that America had anything to do with their problems. America is too far away; what can we do? I thought eventually, when they choose wiser leaders, when all the details are worked out, there will be peace. I shut my ears.
When I went to the Holy Land for the first time in 2005, I was shocked. My ears (and my eyes) were opened and I could no longer be silent. It’s not that now I understand the situation, but I cannot stop reading and listening. I learn something new every day, because once my ears were opened, I could no longer shut out the cries for justice.
Photo is Sami Awad, a Palestinian Christian and Executive Director of the Holy Land Trust in Bethlehem, telling us about his reconciling work with Israelis.
A year ago in Advent, on December 15, 2009, our Palestinian sisters and brothers in faith issued a call to action to the world’s Christians. Kairos Palestine: A Moment of Truth, tells the world about the “Glory of the grace of God in this land and in the sufferings of its people.” They ask us to hear their cries and stand with them as they resist the injustice they are suffering. They ask us to work for a just peace. Read their call to us: http://www.kairospalestine.ps/
God of miracles, in Advent we prepare to celebrate the miracle of the birth of your son, who brought healing and sight to those who were blind. Cure our blindness with your healing touch. Open our ears to the cries of your people in troubled places all over the world…and at home. Make us your agents of healing and hope. Amen.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Holding a Vision for the Future
Advent 3, 2010 - James
Read James 5.7-10
The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth,
Being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. (James 5.7)
It is the season of Advent….the church’s season of waiting. A countercultural season. As the world lined up at Wall-Mart to be first in line for the midnight opening the day after Thanksgiving, we began our four weeks of the intentional practice of waiting.
If you have ever planted seeds, you know that for a few days, nothing happens. You plant, you water, you fertilize …but there is nothing else for you to do but wait for the first shoots to appear.
The olive tree is the mainstay of agriculture in the Middle East. In Jerusalem, on the Mount of Olives, there are trees that are believed to be more than 2000 years old. Last fall when we visited the Church of All Nations at the foot of the Mount of Olives
, workers were picking olives from these ancient trees, which may have provided fruit in Jesus’ time and still are producing fruit today (see photo).
It seems like every Palestinian family has at least one olive tree. Even in the cities, there is at least one olive tree in every yard; olive groves surround all the villages and towns; olive trees stand in vacant lots. They are persistent; they survive even drought and neglect. But growing olive trees is not for the impatient. After a tree is planted, it takes four years for it to produce fruit—four years of watering, cultivating, weeding.
In her book, The Olive Grove, Deborah Rohan, writes about the Moughrabi family, who now live in Colorado. Their great-grandfather Kamel was an olive grower near Akka, and, in the late 1930s, he followed the Palestinian tradition of planting an olive grove for each of his children, knowing that by the time each child was sixteen, he or she would have an income from the fruit, a business which could support a family.
I am an extraordinarily impatient person, so I have been amazed by the patience of the Palestinians I have met. Like Kamel Moughrabi, they build and make plans for a future they cannot see. Every refugee camp has a preschool full of exuberant children. Palestinian families are insistent that their children attend college—it is their creative response to the occupation.
While Presidents, Prime Ministers and diplomats talk-talk-talk, Palestinians are preparing leaders for the day when they will have their own state. On November 30, the first building for Dar Al-Kalima College in Bethlehem was dedicated—the first Lutheran college in the Middle East! They began classes in 2007, and can now expand their enrollment with this new building.
Dr. Nuha Khoury, Dean of the College, describes their work: “We don’t expect change to come from outside. Palestinians have great sources of strength. In Palestine institutions are being built to empower the young and women, to provide people with skills, and to hold up a vision for the future.” A future when there will be fruit to pick from the trees that have been planted.
Read the rest of this interview with Dr. Khoury - Learn more about Dar al-Kalima college.
God of hope, in Advent we pause for a moment today, in gratitude for the hope you promise. Slow us our frantic pace of life, and teach us patience as we cultivate and plant and water, waiting for the fruits of the work you have given us to do. Amen.
Read James 5.7-10
The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth,
Being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. (James 5.7)
It is the season of Advent….the church’s season of waiting. A countercultural season. As the world lined up at Wall-Mart to be first in line for the midnight opening the day after Thanksgiving, we began our four weeks of the intentional practice of waiting.
If you have ever planted seeds, you know that for a few days, nothing happens. You plant, you water, you fertilize …but there is nothing else for you to do but wait for the first shoots to appear.
The olive tree is the mainstay of agriculture in the Middle East. In Jerusalem, on the Mount of Olives, there are trees that are believed to be more than 2000 years old. Last fall when we visited the Church of All Nations at the foot of the Mount of Olives
, workers were picking olives from these ancient trees, which may have provided fruit in Jesus’ time and still are producing fruit today (see photo).It seems like every Palestinian family has at least one olive tree. Even in the cities, there is at least one olive tree in every yard; olive groves surround all the villages and towns; olive trees stand in vacant lots. They are persistent; they survive even drought and neglect. But growing olive trees is not for the impatient. After a tree is planted, it takes four years for it to produce fruit—four years of watering, cultivating, weeding.
In her book, The Olive Grove, Deborah Rohan, writes about the Moughrabi family, who now live in Colorado. Their great-grandfather Kamel was an olive grower near Akka, and, in the late 1930s, he followed the Palestinian tradition of planting an olive grove for each of his children, knowing that by the time each child was sixteen, he or she would have an income from the fruit, a business which could support a family.
I am an extraordinarily impatient person, so I have been amazed by the patience of the Palestinians I have met. Like Kamel Moughrabi, they build and make plans for a future they cannot see. Every refugee camp has a preschool full of exuberant children. Palestinian families are insistent that their children attend college—it is their creative response to the occupation.
While Presidents, Prime Ministers and diplomats talk-talk-talk, Palestinians are preparing leaders for the day when they will have their own state. On November 30, the first building for Dar Al-Kalima College in Bethlehem was dedicated—the first Lutheran college in the Middle East! They began classes in 2007, and can now expand their enrollment with this new building.
Dr. Nuha Khoury, Dean of the College, describes their work: “We don’t expect change to come from outside. Palestinians have great sources of strength. In Palestine institutions are being built to empower the young and women, to provide people with skills, and to hold up a vision for the future.” A future when there will be fruit to pick from the trees that have been planted.
Read the rest of this interview with Dr. Khoury - Learn more about Dar al-Kalima college.
God of hope, in Advent we pause for a moment today, in gratitude for the hope you promise. Slow us our frantic pace of life, and teach us patience as we cultivate and plant and water, waiting for the fruits of the work you have given us to do. Amen.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Making the Desert Bloom
Advent 3 – Isaiah
Isaiah 35.1-10
The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,
The desert shall rejoice and blossom (Is 35.1)
Most scholars agree that this portion of Isaiah was written during the exile in Babylon. The people of Judah had been forced from their homes to make the long march across the desert to Babylon. They had lost everything they knew…their homes, their culture, and probably most importantly, their temple, the center of their worship and the dwelling place of their God. They were aliens in a strange land, without status or means of making a living, feeling separated from God, abandoned by God.
In the depths of their despair, Isaiah proclaims good news—this is not the end. Captivity is not the end of the story! God will bring something new out of their present misery. Isaiah speaks to the peoples’ longing for home. He tells them God will come “with vengeance…to save you.” God will do what seems impossible—bring life to the dry, barren wilderness, making the desert blossom. The people will know that God has not forsaken them. Isaiah promises that God will end their exile, lead them back home…through the wilderness…to God’s dwelling place on Mount Zion. “…Sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”
Like the ancient Israelites, Palestinians today hear these words as exceedingly good news!
Like their ancient sisters and brothers, today’s Palestinians, are a people in exile. Only a small minority of Palestinians today are living where their families lived prior to 1948. Every Palestinian I have asked has a story to tell about what happened to his/her family in the late 1940s. The lucky ones point to hills we can see in the distance and tell me, “My family lived in a village over there. In 1948 they were forced from their homes and came here to Bethlehem and lived with relatives. They were never permitted to return, so th
ey stayed and made new lives for themselves here. I can see the hill where the village was, but I have never been able to visit it.” Photo is of the Wall in Bethlehem--see where it stretches into the distance.
Others tell of long wanderings—from villages in Israel walking south, over borders newly-drawn in 1949, searching for a place to stay….any place where the soldiers would leave them in peace. Many of these Palestinians ended up in Gaza, where they remain today, one million prisoners in a land too small for survival, hemmed in on all sides by Israeli soldiers—even on the west where the Mediterranean is their border. (Read Ramzy Baroud’s My Father Was a Freedom Fighter to hear one such story.)
Life looks hopeless, but God’s promise is firm: “The desert shall rejoice and blossom.”
In Palestine there are many people working to make the desert blossom. One group from Sweden, visiting Bethlehem, heard a pastor who works with youth tell them that when you grow up behind a wall, the most important is to be able to see the ”windows” in the Wall—”to see possibilities, to try to understand the fear that builds walls and to realize that you have friends on the other side of the wall.” He told them that is the only way to tear down walls, the only way to build peace.
The two groups of young people, Swedish and Palestinian, have worked together to create ”windows” in the wall with an Advent calendar of messages from the youth of Vasteras, Sweden and Palestinian youth. They want to show that walls be
tween people can be torn down. ”It is the story of love and reconciliation by telling others your story. Just to show that we all are equal.” Take a look at their Advent calendar and meet some of these young people from Palestine and Sweden who are breaking down the West Bank wall. Photo shows how grafitti "cracks" break down the wall, and make it a joke.
This is also the message of Advent, we wait for a better world to come! Take a look at their one-minute YouTube messages: http://www.byggenbro.com/home.html (the site loads slowly, but the messages are short and worth it!)
God of the wanderers, you accompanied your people through the desert—to the promised land, to Babylon, to Gaza and beyond. Be with us in our desert of sometimes meaningless lives. Help us to find a way to connect with other wanderers and nourish the desert so that it blooms. Amen.
The Rachel Corrie Foundation is also making the desert bloom—figuratively, by working for justice for Palestinians—but also literally, by planting olive trees where they have been uprooted. Rachel, a young American volunteer, was killed by an Israeli bulldozer as she tried to prevent the demolition of a home in Gaza in 2007. Read her story and give a Christmas gift of $25 to plant an olive tree: http://www.endtheoccupation.org/article.php?id=2368
Isaiah 35.1-10
The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,
The desert shall rejoice and blossom (Is 35.1)
Most scholars agree that this portion of Isaiah was written during the exile in Babylon. The people of Judah had been forced from their homes to make the long march across the desert to Babylon. They had lost everything they knew…their homes, their culture, and probably most importantly, their temple, the center of their worship and the dwelling place of their God. They were aliens in a strange land, without status or means of making a living, feeling separated from God, abandoned by God.
In the depths of their despair, Isaiah proclaims good news—this is not the end. Captivity is not the end of the story! God will bring something new out of their present misery. Isaiah speaks to the peoples’ longing for home. He tells them God will come “with vengeance…to save you.” God will do what seems impossible—bring life to the dry, barren wilderness, making the desert blossom. The people will know that God has not forsaken them. Isaiah promises that God will end their exile, lead them back home…through the wilderness…to God’s dwelling place on Mount Zion. “…Sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”
Like the ancient Israelites, Palestinians today hear these words as exceedingly good news!
Like their ancient sisters and brothers, today’s Palestinians, are a people in exile. Only a small minority of Palestinians today are living where their families lived prior to 1948. Every Palestinian I have asked has a story to tell about what happened to his/her family in the late 1940s. The lucky ones point to hills we can see in the distance and tell me, “My family lived in a village over there. In 1948 they were forced from their homes and came here to Bethlehem and lived with relatives. They were never permitted to return, so th
ey stayed and made new lives for themselves here. I can see the hill where the village was, but I have never been able to visit it.” Photo is of the Wall in Bethlehem--see where it stretches into the distance.Others tell of long wanderings—from villages in Israel walking south, over borders newly-drawn in 1949, searching for a place to stay….any place where the soldiers would leave them in peace. Many of these Palestinians ended up in Gaza, where they remain today, one million prisoners in a land too small for survival, hemmed in on all sides by Israeli soldiers—even on the west where the Mediterranean is their border. (Read Ramzy Baroud’s My Father Was a Freedom Fighter to hear one such story.)
Life looks hopeless, but God’s promise is firm: “The desert shall rejoice and blossom.”
In Palestine there are many people working to make the desert blossom. One group from Sweden, visiting Bethlehem, heard a pastor who works with youth tell them that when you grow up behind a wall, the most important is to be able to see the ”windows” in the Wall—”to see possibilities, to try to understand the fear that builds walls and to realize that you have friends on the other side of the wall.” He told them that is the only way to tear down walls, the only way to build peace.
The two groups of young people, Swedish and Palestinian, have worked together to create ”windows” in the wall with an Advent calendar of messages from the youth of Vasteras, Sweden and Palestinian youth. They want to show that walls be
tween people can be torn down. ”It is the story of love and reconciliation by telling others your story. Just to show that we all are equal.” Take a look at their Advent calendar and meet some of these young people from Palestine and Sweden who are breaking down the West Bank wall. Photo shows how grafitti "cracks" break down the wall, and make it a joke.This is also the message of Advent, we wait for a better world to come! Take a look at their one-minute YouTube messages: http://www.byggenbro.com/home.html (the site loads slowly, but the messages are short and worth it!)
God of the wanderers, you accompanied your people through the desert—to the promised land, to Babylon, to Gaza and beyond. Be with us in our desert of sometimes meaningless lives. Help us to find a way to connect with other wanderers and nourish the desert so that it blooms. Amen.
The Rachel Corrie Foundation is also making the desert bloom—figuratively, by working for justice for Palestinians—but also literally, by planting olive trees where they have been uprooted. Rachel, a young American volunteer, was killed by an Israeli bulldozer as she tried to prevent the demolition of a home in Gaza in 2007. Read her story and give a Christmas gift of $25 to plant an olive tree: http://www.endtheoccupation.org/article.php?id=2368
Friday, December 3, 2010
Preparing for Christmas, According to John in the Wilderness
Advent 2 – Matthew
Matthew 3.1-12
REPENT, for the kingdom of heaven has come near (Matt 3.2)
Preparing for Christmas—my checklist:
✓buying cards and writing Christmas letters
✓shopping for friends and family
✓decorating the house
✓baking cookies
✓buying plane tickets…..what is wrong with my Advent?
In my party-world preparations for Christmas—baking, lots of eating and gift-shopping—John’s words are shocking. There’s NOTHING on my list about repentance.
John’s rantings ground me in a very different reality—the geography of the Judean wilderness, the Jordan River, the land where Abraham herded his animals and hoped for an heir, the dry almost-desert of Judea, where Jesus was born. And, John, who has been sent to help me prepare for Christmas, does not tell me to head for the mall. John demands my repentance.
Repentance…..the real preparation for Christmas—self-examination, confessing my sins and then repenting—turning away from these sinful practices.
When I visit John’s wilderness, I see how the separation wall is causing suffering as is cuts between a Palestinian’s home and his olive groves, or in Bethlehem where it forces workers to stand in line at the checkpoint for two hours every morning on their way to Jerusalem, I wonder…..what I can do to change things?
When I ask the Palestinians I meet what I can do to help their situation, they never hesitate. They say: change the policies of your government—
✓stop America’s one-sided, unconditional support of Israel
✓stop sending Israel the money and weapons that oppress us
It is a harsh answer for me. It points a finger at me and names my own sin, my role in the wall-building and imprisonments, my role in maintaining the che
ckpoints and demolishing Palestinian homes. It is my tax dollars that finance all their suffering. Photo shows my tax dollars at work: Israeli soldiers protecting the bulldozers that are destroying the Bedouin village of Al Aruqib, as residents watch, horrified, July, 2010.
[The US is now giving Israel $2.5 billion in aid every year . The Senate has approved President Obama’s request for $3B in military aid for 2011. (The Jewish Virtual Library provides similar statistics). $500 Million (Congressional Research Service) has been appropriated for the Palestinians in 2010. According to Wikipedia, there are 7.5 million Israelis (1.5 million of whom are Palestinian or Syriac), and 4.1 million Palestinians (living in the West Bank and Gaza). So, the population of the area is pretty evenly divided, roughly: 52% Jewish Israeli and 48% Palestinian.]
I cannot fix the problems that divide Israelis and Palestinians. I cannot dictate the terms of a peace settlement between Israel and the Palestinian Authority. I can only do my part—repent. Repentance is a turning—away from the US policies that have supported injustice, not only in Palestine, but all over the world.
Crazy John in the wilderness, wearing animal skins and eating insects and honey, shouting nonsense, announces what we must do to prepare for Christ—and it’s nothing from my Christmas checklist.
Take a few minutes to write a letter to your senator, representative or to the President, expressing what you want them to do with the money you pay in taxes.
Matthew 3.1-12
REPENT, for the kingdom of heaven has come near (Matt 3.2)
Preparing for Christmas—my checklist:
✓buying cards and writing Christmas letters
✓shopping for friends and family
✓decorating the house
✓baking cookies
✓buying plane tickets…..what is wrong with my Advent?
In my party-world preparations for Christmas—baking, lots of eating and gift-shopping—John’s words are shocking. There’s NOTHING on my list about repentance.
John’s rantings ground me in a very different reality—the geography of the Judean wilderness, the Jordan River, the land where Abraham herded his animals and hoped for an heir, the dry almost-desert of Judea, where Jesus was born. And, John, who has been sent to help me prepare for Christmas, does not tell me to head for the mall. John demands my repentance.
Repentance…..the real preparation for Christmas—self-examination, confessing my sins and then repenting—turning away from these sinful practices.
When I visit John’s wilderness, I see how the separation wall is causing suffering as is cuts between a Palestinian’s home and his olive groves, or in Bethlehem where it forces workers to stand in line at the checkpoint for two hours every morning on their way to Jerusalem, I wonder…..what I can do to change things?
When I ask the Palestinians I meet what I can do to help their situation, they never hesitate. They say: change the policies of your government—
✓stop America’s one-sided, unconditional support of Israel
✓stop sending Israel the money and weapons that oppress us
It is a harsh answer for me. It points a finger at me and names my own sin, my role in the wall-building and imprisonments, my role in maintaining the che
ckpoints and demolishing Palestinian homes. It is my tax dollars that finance all their suffering. Photo shows my tax dollars at work: Israeli soldiers protecting the bulldozers that are destroying the Bedouin village of Al Aruqib, as residents watch, horrified, July, 2010.[The US is now giving Israel $2.5 billion in aid every year . The Senate has approved President Obama’s request for $3B in military aid for 2011. (The Jewish Virtual Library provides similar statistics). $500 Million (Congressional Research Service) has been appropriated for the Palestinians in 2010. According to Wikipedia, there are 7.5 million Israelis (1.5 million of whom are Palestinian or Syriac), and 4.1 million Palestinians (living in the West Bank and Gaza). So, the population of the area is pretty evenly divided, roughly: 52% Jewish Israeli and 48% Palestinian.]
I cannot fix the problems that divide Israelis and Palestinians. I cannot dictate the terms of a peace settlement between Israel and the Palestinian Authority. I can only do my part—repent. Repentance is a turning—away from the US policies that have supported injustice, not only in Palestine, but all over the world.
Crazy John in the wilderness, wearing animal skins and eating insects and honey, shouting nonsense, announces what we must do to prepare for Christ—and it’s nothing from my Christmas checklist.
Take a few minutes to write a letter to your senator, representative or to the President, expressing what you want them to do with the money you pay in taxes.
- President Obama: http://www.whitehouse.gov/CONTACT/
- Senator Michael Bennet: http://bennet.senate.gov/contact/
- Senator Mark Udall: http://markudall.senate.gov/?p=contact
- Other Senators: http://www.senate.gov/general/contact_information/senators_cfm.cfm
- Representative Diana DeGette (Denver): http://www.house.gov/htbin/formproc_za/formdegette/issue_subscribe_parm.txt&form=/issue_subscribe_v2.htm&nobase
- Other Representatives: https://writerep.house.gov/writerep/welcome.shtml
Read more about Haaretz's coverage of the destruction of Al Araqib: http://un-truth.com/israel/al-arakib-some-background-via-haaretz
God of new beginnings, as we begin the church’s new year, help us heed your call for repentance; turn our hearts toward your love and mercy and strengthen us for the work ahead. Help us to bear good fruit, working to bring hope and healing to your creation. Amen.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
"Our God Wishes the Best for Us"
Advent 2 – Romans
Romans 15.4-13
…so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope… (Rom 15.
When we look around us with our eyes, we do not see much harmony in the world. No matter where we look—American, Africa, Latin America, Europe, Asia, the Middle East—our eyes show us division and enmity, competition and struggle.
In Palestine, no matter where the eye looks, it sees division and struggle—a gigantic 27-foot-high wall, still being constructed, to keep people separated; concrete and razor-wire barriers to keep farmers from their olive groves; rubble piled in the middle of the road to prevent travel between Palestinian towns; rules that exclude some groups of people; government policies in East Jerusalem that build homes for some and bulldoze the homes of others.
These are the scenes the human eye can see, but this is not what God sees. This is not what God intends for God’s creation. Paul is clear here in his letter to the Christians in Rome—it is not sight, but hope that is at the heart of the gospel proclamation. Hope is what enables us to live the lives God has planned—a creation living in harmony, one with one another.
In my travels in Palestine and in Israel, meeting with people who are working for peace with justice, what most amazes me is the hope I experience, the hope of these people, living behind walls and rubble and razor wire. It is clearly not a hope that depends on living conditions getting better and better, or an economy that expands and grows, or a rising line on the stock market graph. The hope I have witnessed among the Palestinians and Israelis working for peace does not depend on improvements in Israel’s treatment of the Palestinians. It does not depend on who is elected to lead either the Israelis or the Palestinians—or who the Americans elect president.
The hope I have seen is a hope grounded, not in our plans, but in God’s plans—“plans for your welfare…to give you a future with hope.” (Jer 29.11)
Earlier this week I wrote about Farhan Alqam, a Muslim living in the village of Beit Ummar in the West Bank, who sat in his mother’s living room with us and talked about his hopes for the future. In 2006 he was elected mayor of Beit Ummar. He impressed me as a man of hope, but his hope is not grounded in what he sees with his eyes.
If he looked only with his eyes, he would see his own arrest shortly after the election, when all Hamas elected officials were rounded up and thrown in prison.
If he looked only with his eyes, he would see a village impoverished by its isolation, surrounded on three sides by Israeli settlements which continue to confiscate lands belonging to the village. Beit Ummar cannot expand as its population grows because the lands have all b
een taken for Israeli settlement construction.
If he looked only with his eyes, he would see 14-year-old Ibrahim, who was arrested a few days before we arrived, “for throwing stones.” Israeli soldiers broke into the house at 2:00 am and dragged 14-year-old Ibrahim outside, wearing only his shirt and shorts. His family was also forced outside—his parents and his nine brothers and sisters, even the baby—to watch the soldiers beat him.
But Farhan does not look only with his eyes. He also sees with his heart of faith. When we asked him where he finds hope, he replied, “I teach my sons and daughters to love, not hate.” Farhan is able to continue his struggle for equal rights because sees with his heart the future God has promised. He told us, "Our God wishes the best for us; he sends the prophets to take us away from the bad things; the worst thing is hate….I would prefer that the Kaaba (Islam’s most sacred site, in Mecca) be demolished stone by stone—that would be better than killing one person….A drop of water will change even a hard surface.”"
When I read the concluding verse of this week’s text from Romans, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing,” I see Farhan sitting with his son in his lap and his mother looking on proudly. Photo: Farhan and his mother.
God of all hope, in this Advent season of hope, open our hearts to see your future—a future of hope and harmony. Help us to hold this vision before us as we work for peace and justice for those we meet on our journey. Amen.
Romans 15.4-13
…so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope… (Rom 15.
When we look around us with our eyes, we do not see much harmony in the world. No matter where we look—American, Africa, Latin America, Europe, Asia, the Middle East—our eyes show us division and enmity, competition and struggle.
In Palestine, no matter where the eye looks, it sees division and struggle—a gigantic 27-foot-high wall, still being constructed, to keep people separated; concrete and razor-wire barriers to keep farmers from their olive groves; rubble piled in the middle of the road to prevent travel between Palestinian towns; rules that exclude some groups of people; government policies in East Jerusalem that build homes for some and bulldoze the homes of others.
These are the scenes the human eye can see, but this is not what God sees. This is not what God intends for God’s creation. Paul is clear here in his letter to the Christians in Rome—it is not sight, but hope that is at the heart of the gospel proclamation. Hope is what enables us to live the lives God has planned—a creation living in harmony, one with one another.
In my travels in Palestine and in Israel, meeting with people who are working for peace with justice, what most amazes me is the hope I experience, the hope of these people, living behind walls and rubble and razor wire. It is clearly not a hope that depends on living conditions getting better and better, or an economy that expands and grows, or a rising line on the stock market graph. The hope I have witnessed among the Palestinians and Israelis working for peace does not depend on improvements in Israel’s treatment of the Palestinians. It does not depend on who is elected to lead either the Israelis or the Palestinians—or who the Americans elect president.
The hope I have seen is a hope grounded, not in our plans, but in God’s plans—“plans for your welfare…to give you a future with hope.” (Jer 29.11)
Earlier this week I wrote about Farhan Alqam, a Muslim living in the village of Beit Ummar in the West Bank, who sat in his mother’s living room with us and talked about his hopes for the future. In 2006 he was elected mayor of Beit Ummar. He impressed me as a man of hope, but his hope is not grounded in what he sees with his eyes.
If he looked only with his eyes, he would see his own arrest shortly after the election, when all Hamas elected officials were rounded up and thrown in prison.
If he looked only with his eyes, he would see a village impoverished by its isolation, surrounded on three sides by Israeli settlements which continue to confiscate lands belonging to the village. Beit Ummar cannot expand as its population grows because the lands have all b
een taken for Israeli settlement construction.If he looked only with his eyes, he would see 14-year-old Ibrahim, who was arrested a few days before we arrived, “for throwing stones.” Israeli soldiers broke into the house at 2:00 am and dragged 14-year-old Ibrahim outside, wearing only his shirt and shorts. His family was also forced outside—his parents and his nine brothers and sisters, even the baby—to watch the soldiers beat him.
But Farhan does not look only with his eyes. He also sees with his heart of faith. When we asked him where he finds hope, he replied, “I teach my sons and daughters to love, not hate.” Farhan is able to continue his struggle for equal rights because sees with his heart the future God has promised. He told us, "Our God wishes the best for us; he sends the prophets to take us away from the bad things; the worst thing is hate….I would prefer that the Kaaba (Islam’s most sacred site, in Mecca) be demolished stone by stone—that would be better than killing one person….A drop of water will change even a hard surface.”"
When I read the concluding verse of this week’s text from Romans, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing,” I see Farhan sitting with his son in his lap and his mother looking on proudly. Photo: Farhan and his mother.
God of all hope, in this Advent season of hope, open our hearts to see your future—a future of hope and harmony. Help us to hold this vision before us as we work for peace and justice for those we meet on our journey. Amen.
Monday, November 29, 2010
I Give Them the Courage of Love, Not to Hate
Advent 2 – Isaiah
Isaiah 1.1-10
“A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse….He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear…”
Isaiah cries out for a wise ruler who will bring peace. His cry touches my heart because I, too, long for such a leader, a president with the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of knowledge. In these days when we long for our sons and husbands and fathers to return from Iraq and Afghanistan and Korea, we pray for wise leaders to make the world a safer place for us and for our children and grandchildren. We say—if only we had the right leaders, we could live in peace.
In his description of the ideal king, Isaiah touches on a key principle held by the Palestinians I have met who have not given up in their struggle for human rights. Time and again I have heard these tireless leaders echo Isaiah’s words, saying: We do not focus on the way things are for us here in Palestine. We do not dwell on the injustices of the past; we choose to focus on the future, on the way we believe things should be.
Instead of bemoaning the difficulties of life under occupation—the endless lines at the checkpoint in Bethlehem, the humiliation of the soldiers’ guns pointing at shoppers in the market in Hebron, the demolition orders on so many of their homes—these leaders focus instead on the future. They build schools and health clinics; they start a business exporting olive oil or beer. These leaders have made a choice. Each one has refused to “judge by what his (her) eyes see.” Instead, they choose to judge by the life they can imagine for their children. They judge by what will surely come…..someday.
These Palestinians have learned well from their ancestors—prophets like Isaiah, who lived in their land centuries ago. They are patient, willing to wait for the change they know will come. They have waited sixty years for justice following forced removal from their towns and villages by Jewish paramilitaries. They have waited in prison for charges to be brought, for trials to begin and for sentences to be finished. They have waited in line for building permits that are never issued.
In the West Bank village of Beit Ummar, I met Farhan Alqam, who was elected mayor of the town in 2006, but never got to serve because he was jailed, along with most of the officials elected on the Hamas ticket. He is an engineer and a poet, and the people of Beit Ummar thought he was the one with the wisdom to be their leader when they elected him mayor in 2006. Israel has confiscated the land on three sides of the town for its settlements and Israeli soldiers have built a guard tower on the one road into Beit Ummar that is still open. Each day, Israeli soldiers decide whether to open the only entrance into Beit Ummar, or not.
Farhan, who was eventually released from prison, is a gentle man with an engaging smile. Sitting in his mother’s home, with his youngest son, Salah Ad-Din, on his lap, he told us, “The human feelings will have the victory.”
Salah Ad-Din was five the last time his father was arrested. Farhan’s mother smiled proudly as he said he believes “in the power of people to give human rights for all the humans.” He has been arrested three times for resisting Israel’s building of the wall, the confiscation of Beit Ummar’s land, and the building of settlements around the town, cutting it off from the rest of the West Bank.
Where does he find hope? “Every good action, even if very small, gives me more hope—a hole for the light to pass through.” This Hamas leader told us, “I teach my sons and daughters to love, not hate; I give them the courage of love, not to hate. Love needs courage; hate does not.” But, he says, “love is stronger than hate.” He tells us this is what the prophet Mohammad taught: “Hate is very dangerous for the human being. War is easy; peace is hard.”
“When we change, the leaders will be changed.” As the prophet Mohammad said, “As the people are, the leaders will be.”
O God of wisdom and understanding, we thank you for prophets who do not see only with the eye and hear only with the ear, but see your good creation and declare your way of peace for the world. Give us discerning hearts and the courage to proclaim your ways in the political marketplace. Help us become people who raise up wise leaders and support them in their efforts for peacemaking. Amen.
Isaiah 1.1-10
“A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse….He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear…”
Isaiah cries out for a wise ruler who will bring peace. His cry touches my heart because I, too, long for such a leader, a president with the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of knowledge. In these days when we long for our sons and husbands and fathers to return from Iraq and Afghanistan and Korea, we pray for wise leaders to make the world a safer place for us and for our children and grandchildren. We say—if only we had the right leaders, we could live in peace.
In his description of the ideal king, Isaiah touches on a key principle held by the Palestinians I have met who have not given up in their struggle for human rights. Time and again I have heard these tireless leaders echo Isaiah’s words, saying: We do not focus on the way things are for us here in Palestine. We do not dwell on the injustices of the past; we choose to focus on the future, on the way we believe things should be.
Instead of bemoaning the difficulties of life under occupation—the endless lines at the checkpoint in Bethlehem, the humiliation of the soldiers’ guns pointing at shoppers in the market in Hebron, the demolition orders on so many of their homes—these leaders focus instead on the future. They build schools and health clinics; they start a business exporting olive oil or beer. These leaders have made a choice. Each one has refused to “judge by what his (her) eyes see.” Instead, they choose to judge by the life they can imagine for their children. They judge by what will surely come…..someday.
These Palestinians have learned well from their ancestors—prophets like Isaiah, who lived in their land centuries ago. They are patient, willing to wait for the change they know will come. They have waited sixty years for justice following forced removal from their towns and villages by Jewish paramilitaries. They have waited in prison for charges to be brought, for trials to begin and for sentences to be finished. They have waited in line for building permits that are never issued.
In the West Bank village of Beit Ummar, I met Farhan Alqam, who was elected mayor of the town in 2006, but never got to serve because he was jailed, along with most of the officials elected on the Hamas ticket. He is an engineer and a poet, and the people of Beit Ummar thought he was the one with the wisdom to be their leader when they elected him mayor in 2006. Israel has confiscated the land on three sides of the town for its settlements and Israeli soldiers have built a guard tower on the one road into Beit Ummar that is still open. Each day, Israeli soldiers decide whether to open the only entrance into Beit Ummar, or not.
Farhan, who was eventually released from prison, is a gentle man with an engaging smile. Sitting in his mother’s home, with his youngest son, Salah Ad-Din, on his lap, he told us, “The human feelings will have the victory.”
Salah Ad-Din was five the last time his father was arrested. Farhan’s mother smiled proudly as he said he believes “in the power of people to give human rights for all the humans.” He has been arrested three times for resisting Israel’s building of the wall, the confiscation of Beit Ummar’s land, and the building of settlements around the town, cutting it off from the rest of the West Bank.Where does he find hope? “Every good action, even if very small, gives me more hope—a hole for the light to pass through.” This Hamas leader told us, “I teach my sons and daughters to love, not hate; I give them the courage of love, not to hate. Love needs courage; hate does not.” But, he says, “love is stronger than hate.” He tells us this is what the prophet Mohammad taught: “Hate is very dangerous for the human being. War is easy; peace is hard.”
“When we change, the leaders will be changed.” As the prophet Mohammad said, “As the people are, the leaders will be.”
O God of wisdom and understanding, we thank you for prophets who do not see only with the eye and hear only with the ear, but see your good creation and declare your way of peace for the world. Give us discerning hearts and the courage to proclaim your ways in the political marketplace. Help us become people who raise up wise leaders and support them in their efforts for peacemaking. Amen.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Advent 1, Week of November 21 - Gospel of Matthew
Advent 1
Read Matthew 24.36-44
“Therefore you also must be ready,
For the Son-of-Man is coming at an unexpected hour.” (Matt 24.44)
When Americans “discover” that there actually are Palestinians who are Christian, our first impulse is to ask, “How did your family become Christian?” We assume that these Arabs must have converted from Islam, perhaps in the last century when the European colonizers were busy staking out their claims to the Holy Land.
How did your family become Christian? They answer: “Well, you’ve read about us in the book of Acts.” Remember? When the Holy Spirit came in the wind? And the tongues of fire that rested on each of them, and the people of Jerusalem came and heard the disciples speaking in their own languages? The ancestors of the Palestinians were there; they heard Peter’s sermon and were baptized.
In recent weeks, watching the frantic efforts to keep the “peace talks” moving—or, more accurately, getting them started— it has felt a lot like the chaotic scenarios the writer describes in Matthew’s gospel. No one knows about “that day and the hour,” so diplomats and special envoys and presidents and prime ministers and secretaries of state fly back and forth—Jerusalem to Washington and back again. The news we hear is as capricious as the fate of the two men in the field—there seems to be no rhyme or reason to offers made to get the talks started. The situation seems totally out of control.
Everyone is talking, but no one seems to be listening and, despite all the talk, nothing has changed for the Palestinians, who are still waiting for hours at the checkpoint to get to work. Nothing had changed for Izz Ad-Din Al-Kawazba who was killed October 3, by Israeli soldiers’ bullets on his daily commute to work—as he sneaked past the wall to work illegally in Jerusalem (read the news account from Ma’an News).
.
So, what are we to do? Strap bombs to our chests and board a bus in Jerusalem? Go Christmas shopping so we don’t have to think about it? Do we boycott Israeli goods made in the occupied territories, or do we wait, trusting that President Obama’s plan will bring justice for Palestinians?
Like the Palestinians, the disciples who heard Jesus’ words were living under an occupying army. Their daily reality was uncertainty—like the two women grinding meal, they never knew when they might be snatched away by Rome’s soldiers. Like the writer of Matthew’s gospel, we know what the disciples listening to Jesus did not know—that two chapters ahead, this is what will happen to Jesus.
So, what are we to do? Jesus encourages his disciples with his vision of the future—a future when God’s way will reign. A future when they will no longer suffer Rome’s abuse. To prepare for God’s future, Jesus tells them, be watchful.
Palestinian Christians have taken to heart what Jesus teaches here. Rather than being distracted by the chaos, they hold God’s purposes in front of them as they build for the future of their country. They do not waste time sitting around lamenting their plight. Instead, next Tuesday Christians in Bethlehem are dedicating the first buildings of a new college, Dar al-Kalima—the first Lutheran college in the Middle East. Although the wall surrounds Bethlehem, these descendents of
the early followers of Jesus know this is not the future God has planned for them. And so they live into a barely-imaginable future, preparing leaders for a time when there will be a Palestinian State. Photo: middle school students I met at Dar al-Kalima School in 2009.
We do not know the future. We do not know when God will make all things new. But Jesus assures us all that God’s future WILL come. And while we wait, Jesus tells us, our job is to be ready.
Gracious God, you created us for good things. Your abundance fills the world. Help us to stay awake so that we can be your faithful stewards, assuring that your good creation is shared among all. Amen.
Read Matthew 24.36-44
“Therefore you also must be ready,
For the Son-of-Man is coming at an unexpected hour.” (Matt 24.44)
When Americans “discover” that there actually are Palestinians who are Christian, our first impulse is to ask, “How did your family become Christian?” We assume that these Arabs must have converted from Islam, perhaps in the last century when the European colonizers were busy staking out their claims to the Holy Land.
How did your family become Christian? They answer: “Well, you’ve read about us in the book of Acts.” Remember? When the Holy Spirit came in the wind? And the tongues of fire that rested on each of them, and the people of Jerusalem came and heard the disciples speaking in their own languages? The ancestors of the Palestinians were there; they heard Peter’s sermon and were baptized.
In recent weeks, watching the frantic efforts to keep the “peace talks” moving—or, more accurately, getting them started— it has felt a lot like the chaotic scenarios the writer describes in Matthew’s gospel. No one knows about “that day and the hour,” so diplomats and special envoys and presidents and prime ministers and secretaries of state fly back and forth—Jerusalem to Washington and back again. The news we hear is as capricious as the fate of the two men in the field—there seems to be no rhyme or reason to offers made to get the talks started. The situation seems totally out of control.
Everyone is talking, but no one seems to be listening and, despite all the talk, nothing has changed for the Palestinians, who are still waiting for hours at the checkpoint to get to work. Nothing had changed for Izz Ad-Din Al-Kawazba who was killed October 3, by Israeli soldiers’ bullets on his daily commute to work—as he sneaked past the wall to work illegally in Jerusalem (read the news account from Ma’an News).
.
So, what are we to do? Strap bombs to our chests and board a bus in Jerusalem? Go Christmas shopping so we don’t have to think about it? Do we boycott Israeli goods made in the occupied territories, or do we wait, trusting that President Obama’s plan will bring justice for Palestinians?
Like the Palestinians, the disciples who heard Jesus’ words were living under an occupying army. Their daily reality was uncertainty—like the two women grinding meal, they never knew when they might be snatched away by Rome’s soldiers. Like the writer of Matthew’s gospel, we know what the disciples listening to Jesus did not know—that two chapters ahead, this is what will happen to Jesus.
So, what are we to do? Jesus encourages his disciples with his vision of the future—a future when God’s way will reign. A future when they will no longer suffer Rome’s abuse. To prepare for God’s future, Jesus tells them, be watchful.
Palestinian Christians have taken to heart what Jesus teaches here. Rather than being distracted by the chaos, they hold God’s purposes in front of them as they build for the future of their country. They do not waste time sitting around lamenting their plight. Instead, next Tuesday Christians in Bethlehem are dedicating the first buildings of a new college, Dar al-Kalima—the first Lutheran college in the Middle East. Although the wall surrounds Bethlehem, these descendents of
the early followers of Jesus know this is not the future God has planned for them. And so they live into a barely-imaginable future, preparing leaders for a time when there will be a Palestinian State. Photo: middle school students I met at Dar al-Kalima School in 2009.We do not know the future. We do not know when God will make all things new. But Jesus assures us all that God’s future WILL come. And while we wait, Jesus tells us, our job is to be ready.
Gracious God, you created us for good things. Your abundance fills the world. Help us to stay awake so that we can be your faithful stewards, assuring that your good creation is shared among all. Amen.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Advent 1, Week of Nov 21 - Romans
Advent 1
Read Romans 13.11-14
“It is now the moment for you to wake from sleep….” Rom. 13.11
A year ago, in December, 2009, Christians in Palestine presented the world with a document, calling all Christians to stand with them in confronting the oppression they are suffering under Israeli occupation of their lands. The document, “A Moment of Truth,” is called the Kairos Document—testament to the urgency of their appeal. Kairos is a Greek word meaning “time,” in the sense of an opportune time, a decisive time, a moment of truth.
For Palestinians, this is indeed a decisive time—for more than sixty years they have been waiting for resolution to their claims for land. When families fled from their homes in 1948, they locked their doors and took their keys, planning to return in a few days or weeks when the violence ended. They planned to return to harvest their olives and their lemons and apricots. Most of them left in a hurry, taking only a few belongings—old blankets for sleeping along the roads, some old pots for cooking or carrying water. They left most of their possessions—linens, dishes, clothing—safely locked in their homes, awaiting their return.
Now is a decisive time for all of us—President Obama began his administration with strong words supporting a peace agreement, strong words expressing respect for Arab rights. In early 2009, it seemed that it was a decisive time—that now something would finally be happening to bring resolution to the long-festering conflict. This fall we saw Palestinian and Israeli leaders meet face-to-face for talks. We have heard strong support from Secretary of State Clinton, strong words encouraging Israel to cooperate by freezing settlement construction.
Unfortunately, it has been all words and no actions. As Mitri Raheb, pastor of Christmas Lutheran Church in Bethlehem said when he was in Denver in September, “Enough dialogue; now it is time for action.” For seventeen years, the PLO and Israel have been negotiating, but there has been no action. Palestinians have seen no improvements in their daily lives; their situation is worse now than it has ever been.
Israel’s security wall is still being built; it winds around Israeli settlements in the West Bank, annexing lands for a buffer zone between the settlements and Palestinian villages. It is now projected to be twice the length of the Green Line, the border between Israel proper and the West Bank, which it claims to enforce. The wall is built, not on land owned by Israel, but on land owned by Palestinians—it carves up their olive orchards; it slices off pieces of their farmland; it snakes around water sources, making sure the water is on the Israeli side of the wall.
Palestinians stand at checkpoints waiting for the soldiers to recognize them and look at their travel papers so they can go to their orchards and tend their trees. Palestinian men are forced to lift up their shirts to show they have no weapons.
Read Romans 13.11-14
“It is now the moment for you to wake from sleep….” Rom. 13.11
A year ago, in December, 2009, Christians in Palestine presented the world with a document, calling all Christians to stand with them in confronting the oppression they are suffering under Israeli occupation of their lands. The document, “A Moment of Truth,” is called the Kairos Document—testament to the urgency of their appeal. Kairos is a Greek word meaning “time,” in the sense of an opportune time, a decisive time, a moment of truth.
For Palestinians, this is indeed a decisive time—for more than sixty years they have been waiting for resolution to their claims for land. When families fled from their homes in 1948, they locked their doors and took their keys, planning to return in a few days or weeks when the violence ended. They planned to return to harvest their olives and their lemons and apricots. Most of them left in a hurry, taking only a few belongings—old blankets for sleeping along the roads, some old pots for cooking or carrying water. They left most of their possessions—linens, dishes, clothing—safely locked in their homes, awaiting their return.
Now is a decisive time for all of us—President Obama began his administration with strong words supporting a peace agreement, strong words expressing respect for Arab rights. In early 2009, it seemed that it was a decisive time—that now something would finally be happening to bring resolution to the long-festering conflict. This fall we saw Palestinian and Israeli leaders meet face-to-face for talks. We have heard strong support from Secretary of State Clinton, strong words encouraging Israel to cooperate by freezing settlement construction.
Unfortunately, it has been all words and no actions. As Mitri Raheb, pastor of Christmas Lutheran Church in Bethlehem said when he was in Denver in September, “Enough dialogue; now it is time for action.” For seventeen years, the PLO and Israel have been negotiating, but there has been no action. Palestinians have seen no improvements in their daily lives; their situation is worse now than it has ever been.
Israel’s security wall is still being built; it winds around Israeli settlements in the West Bank, annexing lands for a buffer zone between the settlements and Palestinian villages. It is now projected to be twice the length of the Green Line, the border between Israel proper and the West Bank, which it claims to enforce. The wall is built, not on land owned by Israel, but on land owned by Palestinians—it carves up their olive orchards; it slices off pieces of their farmland; it snakes around water sources, making sure the water is on the Israeli side of the wall.
Palestinians stand at checkpoints waiting for the soldiers to recognize them and look at their travel papers so they can go to their orchards and tend their trees. Palestinian men are forced to lift up their shirts to show they have no weapons.
Photo: Waiting at the Bethlehem Checkpoint. 2000 Palestinians stand in line for two hours at the checkpoint in Bethlehem every morning, on their way to work. They must pass through checkpoints even if they are traveling to other parts of the West Bank. The wall totally surrounds many communities, forcing the people to go through a checkpoint to go anywhere, even to the neighboring Palestinian village.
The language Paul uses projects an urgency—NOW is the time for you to wake from sleep. The Palestinians know this urgency—enough is enough—NOW is the time for peace. NOW is the time for Israel to leave the West Bank. NOW is the time for freedom!
NOW, in this Advent season, is the time for Americans, too, to wake up—time to shout “Enough is enough!”
Gracious God, you are ever wakeful, watching over every one of your creatures. While we sleep, you are vigilant, protecting the weak, watching over those who suffer. In this Advent season, wake us from our slumbers. Stir us to move from words to action and join you in your liberating work. Amen.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Advent 1, Week of Nov 21 - Isaiah
Read Isaiah 2.1-5
“In the days to come,
the mountain of the Lord’s house
shall be established as the highest of the mountains…
All the nations shall stream to it….
‘Come, let us to up to the mountain of the Lord,
to the house of the God of Jacob;
that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.’” (Is. 2.2-3)
If you are reading this in the morning, it is already late afternoon in Jerusalem. Today, all day long, pilgrims have been streaming into the Church of the Holy Sepulchre; the only time there is no crowd there
is at 6:00 am, just after the doors are unlocked. By 8:00 or 9:00 the courtyard in front of the church is filled with people from all over the globe—groups of Africans in their colorful caftans, sturdy-looking older women from Eastern Europe, and groups from Asia and Germany and America. Cameras around their necks, they cluster around their tour guides to hear about this odd-looking building, which looks like two churches stuck together like mis-matched Siamese twins. The two churches fight for space over this place where it is believed that Jesus was crucified and buried. According to the tradition of the Jerusalem community of the followers of Christ, this is the place where Jesus was crucified. In the first century, this area was outside the walls of the city, near an abandoned stone quarry, where tombs were carved in the rock. Pilgrims have been coming to this site since the first century. Photo shows today's pilgrims entering the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is in the heart of Jerusalem. Last summer, as the sun rose over the hills to the east, I stood on the terrace of the guesthouse at the convent of Ecce Homo, and looked out over all of the city. Jerusalem is built on a cluster of hills—the Old City is on one of the highest hills; across to the east is the Mount of Olives, to the west the new city with its highrise apartments. The sun reflects off the white stone and the city shines. As I looked to the south I could see, just a block or two away, the Temple Mount. In recent years, the Temple Mount has gained notoriety as the site of protests, where rock-throwing young men protest Israeli restrictions on Palestinian movement, or the killing of Palestians by the Israeli military. But the Temple Mount is more that that; it is the mountain of the Lord where the house of the God of Jacob was built; it is the mountain Isaiah sees in his vision. Photo is the Temple Mount from the Ecce Homo convent.
Touring Jerusalem, I have seen the fulfillment of Isaiah’s visi
on—a holy mount where “all nations” come to hear God’s teaching and walk in God’s path through the streets of the Old City. Each day thousands of pilgrims walk Jerusalem’s streets—walking the cobblestones through the suq to reverence the first-century pavement in the Antonia Fortress where Jesus was brought before Pilate, to see the cells hewn out of the stone beneath the Church of St. Peter in Gallicantu where prisoners were held before being brought before Herod. Everywhere I walk in Jerusalem’s Old City, I see people of all nations—here Jews walk by the Arab shopkeepers’ stalls on their way to the Western Wall for Friday Shabbat; Muslims stand in line to go through security so they can pray at the Al Aksa Mosque, on a walkway built above the Western Wall where Jews rock as they pray with their prayerbooks. Christians from Senegal and Ghana and Italy and the U.S. pray with the Jews at the Wall and walk the grounds on the Temple Mount as Muslims gather for prayers.
That’s on a good day—when there are no rock-throwing groups of young Muslim men protesting the closure of the Temple Mount by Israeli soldiers, when there are no barricades blocking access to the streets of the Old City for fear of violence.
But every day, always and everywhere, there are the green-uniformed soldiers of Israel’s army and the blue-uniformed Israeli police. One time when I was walking back to our tour bus after praying at the Western Wall, I was watching a line of Jewish schoolgirls who had been praying with me. They, too, were walking in single file back to their bus, lined up with the other buses at the Lion’s gate. Suddenly I noticed a young man with a machine gun strapped to his backpack, following the girls. What was this man doing? Was he going to attack the girls? Shoot at the crowd? It was a big gun and I began to panic. I looked around and no one else seemed concerned. Why wasn’t anyone paying attention? Luckily, I didn’t scream or run over to the police, but I did keep watching the man, as he continued to follow the girls….to their school bus, where they filed onto the bus as he stood guard by the door.
There it all was—everything in Isaiah’s vision….the power of the sword, but also, in this holiest of holy places, the power of God’s holiness and God’s goodness, that power of God, which will ultimately prevail, to bring us all—Christians, Muslims, Jews, Africans, Europeans, Americans, Asians—from all the corners of the globe to “the mountain of the Lord’s house.” Isaiah’s vision has not fully been realized, but in Jerusalem it is possible to get a glimpse of what God’s future will look like….a reminder to us that what seems impossible is possible for God—hope for us in this season of hope. Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord…..consider traveling to the Holy Land to see the places where Jesus walked.
God of all hope, in this season of waiting, you remind us that our reality is not the last word. Help us to hold fast to Isaiah’s vision of reconciliation between the nations; give us energy and courage to work for reconciliation, so that someday we can take our unused swords and beat them into plowshares for the feeding of the world. Amen.
“In the days to come,
the mountain of the Lord’s house
shall be established as the highest of the mountains…
All the nations shall stream to it….
‘Come, let us to up to the mountain of the Lord,
to the house of the God of Jacob;
that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.’” (Is. 2.2-3)
If you are reading this in the morning, it is already late afternoon in Jerusalem. Today, all day long, pilgrims have been streaming into the Church of the Holy Sepulchre; the only time there is no crowd there
is at 6:00 am, just after the doors are unlocked. By 8:00 or 9:00 the courtyard in front of the church is filled with people from all over the globe—groups of Africans in their colorful caftans, sturdy-looking older women from Eastern Europe, and groups from Asia and Germany and America. Cameras around their necks, they cluster around their tour guides to hear about this odd-looking building, which looks like two churches stuck together like mis-matched Siamese twins. The two churches fight for space over this place where it is believed that Jesus was crucified and buried. According to the tradition of the Jerusalem community of the followers of Christ, this is the place where Jesus was crucified. In the first century, this area was outside the walls of the city, near an abandoned stone quarry, where tombs were carved in the rock. Pilgrims have been coming to this site since the first century. Photo shows today's pilgrims entering the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is in the heart of Jerusalem. Last summer, as the sun rose over the hills to the east, I stood on the terrace of the guesthouse at the convent of Ecce Homo, and looked out over all of the city. Jerusalem is built on a cluster of hills—the Old City is on one of the highest hills; across to the east is the Mount of Olives, to the west the new city with its highrise apartments. The sun reflects off the white stone and the city shines. As I looked to the south I could see, just a block or two away, the Temple Mount. In recent years, the Temple Mount has gained notoriety as the site of protests, where rock-throwing young men protest Israeli restrictions on Palestinian movement, or the killing of Palestians by the Israeli military. But the Temple Mount is more that that; it is the mountain of the Lord where the house of the God of Jacob was built; it is the mountain Isaiah sees in his vision. Photo is the Temple Mount from the Ecce Homo convent.
Touring Jerusalem, I have seen the fulfillment of Isaiah’s visi
on—a holy mount where “all nations” come to hear God’s teaching and walk in God’s path through the streets of the Old City. Each day thousands of pilgrims walk Jerusalem’s streets—walking the cobblestones through the suq to reverence the first-century pavement in the Antonia Fortress where Jesus was brought before Pilate, to see the cells hewn out of the stone beneath the Church of St. Peter in Gallicantu where prisoners were held before being brought before Herod. Everywhere I walk in Jerusalem’s Old City, I see people of all nations—here Jews walk by the Arab shopkeepers’ stalls on their way to the Western Wall for Friday Shabbat; Muslims stand in line to go through security so they can pray at the Al Aksa Mosque, on a walkway built above the Western Wall where Jews rock as they pray with their prayerbooks. Christians from Senegal and Ghana and Italy and the U.S. pray with the Jews at the Wall and walk the grounds on the Temple Mount as Muslims gather for prayers.That’s on a good day—when there are no rock-throwing groups of young Muslim men protesting the closure of the Temple Mount by Israeli soldiers, when there are no barricades blocking access to the streets of the Old City for fear of violence.
But every day, always and everywhere, there are the green-uniformed soldiers of Israel’s army and the blue-uniformed Israeli police. One time when I was walking back to our tour bus after praying at the Western Wall, I was watching a line of Jewish schoolgirls who had been praying with me. They, too, were walking in single file back to their bus, lined up with the other buses at the Lion’s gate. Suddenly I noticed a young man with a machine gun strapped to his backpack, following the girls. What was this man doing? Was he going to attack the girls? Shoot at the crowd? It was a big gun and I began to panic. I looked around and no one else seemed concerned. Why wasn’t anyone paying attention? Luckily, I didn’t scream or run over to the police, but I did keep watching the man, as he continued to follow the girls….to their school bus, where they filed onto the bus as he stood guard by the door.
There it all was—everything in Isaiah’s vision….the power of the sword, but also, in this holiest of holy places, the power of God’s holiness and God’s goodness, that power of God, which will ultimately prevail, to bring us all—Christians, Muslims, Jews, Africans, Europeans, Americans, Asians—from all the corners of the globe to “the mountain of the Lord’s house.” Isaiah’s vision has not fully been realized, but in Jerusalem it is possible to get a glimpse of what God’s future will look like….a reminder to us that what seems impossible is possible for God—hope for us in this season of hope. Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord…..consider traveling to the Holy Land to see the places where Jesus walked.
God of all hope, in this season of waiting, you remind us that our reality is not the last word. Help us to hold fast to Isaiah’s vision of reconciliation between the nations; give us energy and courage to work for reconciliation, so that someday we can take our unused swords and beat them into plowshares for the feeding of the world. Amen.
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