Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Lent 4, Ephesians - In Darkness

Ephesians 5.8-14

For once you were in darkness, but now in the Lord you are light.
(Eph 5.8)

So much of what has happened in Israel/Palestine over the course of the twentieth century has been hidden in darkness. Instead of living by what can be seen in the light, I have discovered that I have lived by myths that flourished in the darkness. One myth I believed was that Palestine was an empty land, waiting for industrious Jewish farmers to “make the desert bloom.” And that Palestinians rock-throwing started the violence. History teaches otherwise.

Today, March 30, is Palestinian Land Day, "Yom al-Ard," —a day commemorating the Israeli military's 1976 killing of six young Palestinians as they protested the Israeli government's seizure of Palestinian land. The day has since become a symbol of Palestinian resistance to land theft, colonization, occupation and apartheid.

The stories of Palestinian non-violent protest are hidden to most Americans. Dr. Mazin Qumsiyeh’s new book, Popular Resistance in Palestine, is one of many recent books bringing this hidden history to light. He writes about the careful organizing that led up to the events of Land Day (pp 112-113), and shared them on his blog yesterday:

“Away from politics, grassroots efforts were functioning. The increased mobilization among Palestinians inside the Green Line took a dramatic and bold step forward with a large meeting in August 1975 in Nazareth attended by 110 individuals to defend the land. At this meeting, a committee was selected, headed by Anees Kardoush, to prepare for an even larger meeting. This meeting, held in October 1975, included about 5,000 activists from many factions and created the Committee for Defense of the Land (Lajnat Al-Difa’ An Al-Aradi) with 100 members and an eleven-member secretariat.

It began by protesting against the confiscation of 22,000 dunums in the Galilee and the declaration of an even larger parcel of land belonging to three villages (in the Al-Mil area) as closed military zones, with the intention of building nine Jewish settlements in this closed zone. A meeting was held in Nazareth on March 6, 1976. This included 48 heads of municipalities and local village councils and called for a day of protests and strikes on March 30, 1976 should Israel go ahead with its land confiscation policies. When it appeared the strike would take place, many areas outside of the Galilee joined it, including in the West Bank. Photo: Dr. Mazin Qumsiyeh being arrested, Al Walaja, 2010

This became known as ‘Land Day’ throughout Palestine. The events actually started on March 29, when a demonstration against the Israeli army’s provocative mobilizations in the village of Deir Hanna. Later that evening, the village of Araba Al-Batoof demonstrated in solidarity and a young man, Khair Muhammad Yassin, was killed by Israeli soldiers. He was the first martyr of the 1976 Land Day. More martyrs fell over the next 24 hours.

The events were well organized and participation was high. The Israeli authorities reacted violently. Many were injured, six nonviolent protesters killed and hundreds arrested. The events coincided with the secret Koening Memorandum which laid out plans for further discrimination and ethnic cleansing to ‘make the Galilee more Jewish’. The Israeli government condemned the leaking of the memorandum, but no government official repudiated its racist content.12 After this successful popular event, differences arose that weakened the organizing committee and yet, the movement continues strongly to this day.”

As you can see, non-violent protest is an inaccurate description. Non-violence is often met with violence. Tomorrow in Palestine, Israeli soldiers protect the bulldozers clearing Palestinian land for the building of the wall; people protest; and some may be killed.

God of light, open our hearts to the light. Then give us courage to be your partners in this illuminating work; help us be your merciful light, shining on the dark places of your world. Amen.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Lent 4, Samuel - Leading

For the Lord does not see as mortals see...” (1Sam 16.7)

It’s not easy being a leader—prophet OR king. Saul learned the hard way. Enjoying God’s favor, battle after battle, he became more and more impressed with himself, finally claiming sacrificial leadership that did not belong to him. He forgot that his success was not his own, that everything he had achieved depended on God and on Samuel, God’s messenger. Samuel loved his protege–king, even when Saul arrogantly took over Samuel’s job. When God abandoned Saul, Samuel grieved.

As I read about poor Saul, I recalled the strange scene at the Colorado legislature on Friday, March 18, when first the Senate and then the House, interrupted their business to give Israeli Ambassador Michael Oren a standing ovation and a resolution of uncritical support for the state of Israel.

Everyone I’ve told about this asks, Why is the Colorado legislature passing resolutions on foreign policy? Introducing the resolution with laudatory praise for Israel, the legislators explained that it was the $36.6 m Colorado companies make, selling things to Israel. The resolution was our state’s thank you to Israel, a “democracy” that “shares our values,” and is such “ a good partner.”

I, too, have believed that Israel shares our democratic values....until 2008, when I met Dr. Abdul-Latif, a hydrologist who lives surrounded by Israel’s wall in the village of Jayyous in the West Bank. He showed us the wall and told us about his brother-in-law, Dr. Ghassan Khaled, a lecturer and professor of commercial international law at Al Najah University in Nablus, who had been arrested a few months before, on January 16. He was released for lack of evidence, rearrested and held under “administrative detention” for 20 months; then released and arrested again in August, 2010.

“Administrative detention” means that they can hold him without charges...for however long they like. Like most universities, Al Najah is a place where ideas are developed and debated. As a Palestinian university, a big topic of conversation is Israel’s occupation and strategies to end it. As a teacher of international law, I can imagine that Professor Khaled has spoken and written about Israel’s own violations of international law in continuing its occupation and discriminating against its own Arab citizens and the Arabs in occupied areas like Nablus. There have been many demonstrations against Israel’s occupation.....Is this why he is considered a security risk and held in prison for the last three years? Photo is Dr. Khaled's sister-in-law and niece, 2008

Or does his arrest have something to do with his father, Sharif Omar Khaled, who is one of the popular leaders of the peace demonstrations against the Apartheid wall built on the land of Jayyous? His own fields – like most, in that area – were incorporated into Israel by the wall, and he is required to present a permit in order to cultivate them.

We can only guess, because, since the original charges were dismissed in 2008, for lack of evidence, Dr. Khaled has never been charged with anything, only imprisoned. Dr. Khaled is not the only one. Today here are 214 Palestinians held in “administrative detention.” Are these the values we share with Israel? Is this even democracy?

God of Samuel, Saul and David, we are stubborn, and slow to learn your ways; we do not listen to your prophets or submit to your will. But we are quick to assume power. Help us learn humility, to conform our lives to your desires for us, to let go of our desire for control, to live into our baptism with the gifts you have given us. Amen.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Lent 3, John - Walking a Divided Land

John 4.5-42

But he had to go through Samaria. (John 4.4)

Jesus’ journey takes him through a land divided, by tradition and religion—like riding on the bus, past a Palestinian village on the right, an Israeli town on the hill above; or an Israeli “archaeological site with its ruins of a destroyed Arab town; or a Bedouin camp in the valley below an Israeli settlement.

Last May, as I rode the bus south toward the Israeli town of Sderot on the border with Gaza, I felt anxious, journeying toward the land of the “other”—an Israeli community located right on Israel’s border with Gaza, a place constantly under threat of attack by rockets launched from Gaza. It was these rocket attacks that Israel cited as the reason for its invasion of Gaza in December-January 2009-10. Although I knew we were meeting with a group of Israeli women who are working for peace, building bridges with their Gazan neighbors, my anger over Israel’s attack on Gaza and the horrible destruction of the towns and the deaths of so many civilians was stuck in my throat.

The women we were going to meet had moved their families to this land, which had once been home to both Palestinians and Jews, living side by side. They had come to this dry place to settle and claim the land for Israel. Even though I knew that they were working for peace, I knew that their presence was a source of the friction between Jews and Palestinians.

The bus pulled into the parking lot at Netiv-haAsara, a moshav, with a communal lifestyle similar to a kibbutz, but the agricultural lands are individually owned. It was planned as a buffer between Israel and the Gaza Strip, established in 1982 after Israel’s withdrawal from the Sinai and its peace agreement with Egypt. People are still moving here and the Jewish Agency provides each family with a small piece of land.

As I sat in the moshav’s community room, I learned that Roni does not want to be an obstacle to peace. She described their life here ten years ago, when Palestinians from nearby Beit Hanoun and Beit Lahiya came across the border each day to work the land of the moshav. These Israeli and Palestinian farmers got to know one another, visited with one another and celebrated weddings and other social events together. She said their lives have been “undermined by the military on both sides.” Photo: Roni and Julia in Netiv-haAsara, taken by Ellen Greene

In 2005, on the day after Israel withdrew from the Gaza Strip, removing its settlements, a rocket fired from Gaza killed a girl in Netiv-haAsara. Since then they have lived under constant threat of the rockets. Just because the rockets are homemade and rarely hit anything but a field, the threat of death is always present. When the siren sounds, everyone knows they have minutes to run to the shelters.

Julia is a social psychologist who teaches at the college near Sderot, 2 k from Gaza. Two years ago a student was killed in the parking lot by a rocket, while other students watched. The worst effect is psychological—75-80% of the people in the region have PTSD. These two women described their work to build bridges with their Palestinian neighbors—Products for Peace, which sells things like Palestinian soap with an Israeli-crafted soap dish. http://www.nisped.org.il/

Roni moved here from Britain, Julia from the US. Both came as young adults, full of hope and the promise of Israel. Julia said she once believed that Israel wanted peace, that the land was empty and that “the Arabs hated us.” Those hopes and visions have been shattered for both women as they have learned about Israel’s history and gotten to know their Palestinian neighbors.

Now they are busy planning seminars to build understanding. Julia told us she was opposed to the war on Gaza and opposes the building of the wall. She has called for an end to the blockade Israel has imposed on Gaza. One of the women in their group went to Ashdod to protest the killing of the nine people on the humanitarian aid ship Mavi Marmara, which happened a few days before we met. The woman was threatened by her neighbors, who told her to apologize for participating in the protest or leave the moshav. But Roni and Julia told us, “we don’t give up because there is no other way.” They want Jewish Americans to realize that Jews need to acknowledge the Armenian genocide and the Palestinian occupation; there need to be joint ceremonies so that these events are not forgotten, so that the people can change the future. “I don’t have to compare [the holocaust and the occupation]…I cannot, because we know what this is doing to us as a people….” She finds it easier to dialogue with Palestinians than with people in her own community. “We cannot solve this militarily; we need something different…both people are entitled to a land and a life, a right not to be bombed.”

I couldn’t agree more.

God of all being, you walked our roads and drank from our wells. You listened to our squabbles over land and our arguments about how to worship you. And you dared speak to the “other,” bringing healing and peace to a divided community. We pray that you continue your creative work, forming us in your image. Amen.


[Note: Sychar….Jacob’s Well. Sychar is commonly thought to be the ancient city of Shechem, today identified with the archaeological site of Tel Balata, on a small knoll (Shechem means “shoulder” or “high place”) near the city of Nablus in the West Bank. The site today is in the Balata Refugee Camp. To read more about Balata today, see Anna Baltzer’s beautiful photographs and stories in her book, Witness in Palestine.) Jacob’s Well is at the entrance to Balata Camp. In the Orthodox tradition, the feast day of Plotine, the name given to the unnamed woman of Samaria, is celebrated, on March 20.]

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Lent 3, Romans - Boasting in our Suffering?

Romans 5.1-11

…but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. (Rom 5.3-5)

We rarely choose suffering….unless we have something to gain, like winning a marathon. Suffering simply comes to us, unbidden and often unannounced. Like the earthquake and tsunami and nuclear emergency. Suffering is part of life. It cannot be avoided. All we can do is make the best of it. Paul’s words are not idle speculation; Paul knew suffering.

In the Middle East there are many people who know suffering. Arrest, interrogation, torture, suicide bombers, house demolitions, corrupt government officials…the suffering goes on and on. The question is, What do we do with our suffering? Does it produce endurance, character and hope? Or bitterness, misery and retaliation?

When I first went to the Holy Land, I expected to see a lot of misery, encounter a lot of bitterness. But then I met Angie. A student at Bethlehem University, she was our guide while we were in Bethlehem—setting up the gardening and painting projects we did at the Lutheran school. She told me she had applied for a permit to go to Jerusalem for Holy Week, but was denied.

It’s the custom for Christians in the Holy Land to walk the road Jesus walked, down the Mount of Olives into Jerusalem, waving palm branches and singing. She said that since she was a student at a university where student groups engaged in mass demonstrations against Israel’s occupation, she was deemed a security risk, even though she did not belong to any of these student groups. There was no appeal, no process for proving that she was not a threat. The permit was simply denied, along with most of the rest of the Christians in Bethlehem. And it has only gotten worse. Last year, virtually no permits were issued for Holy Week travel. Photo: protesters who were denied permits for Palm Sunday try to push past the wall at the Bethlehem checkpoint, 2010.

Then Angie told me that she didn’t hate Israelis. She didn’t blame them for her virtual imprisonment behind the walls surrounding Bethlehem. She said she just wanted the occupation to end so that she could go abroad to study…and to Jerusalem for Holy Week.

I thought at the time, “How can this be?” And I realized I was witnessing something miraculous. That’s when I knew I had to tell her story and invite others to “come and see” for themselves. Because Angie is not the only Palestinian I met who carries no hatred for Jews or Israelis—I’ve seen it everywhere in Palestine, this miracle of forgiveness shared by Muslims and Christians.

I think this is what Paul meant. Living behind the 25-foot-high wall, not being allowed to leave Bethlehem….it takes endurance to stay there and not move to your brother’s in Texas—away from the soldiers and the threat of bulldozers. It takes endurance to raise your children knowing they may not be able to go to university abroad to become a doctor. Endurance means not giving up on your future. And somehow, miraculously, hope is born out of the despair. This year Angie is in Wisconsin, working on her masters degree so she can go back to Bethlehem, equipped to be a leader in the new Palestine.

God of unimaginable possibilities, you have created your people with a great diversity of talents and gifts. We are grateful for the opportunities we have been given to use our gifts to bring healing and hope in your world. Amen.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Lent 3, Exodus - Resistance

Exodus 17.1-7
“I will be standing there in front of you.” (Ex 17.6)

This story about Moses and the Israelites’ journey to the “promised land” makes difficult reading this week after five members of one family were murdered in an Israeli settlement in the West Bank. Those who discovered the murders describe a horrific and bloody scene. The settlement is called Itamar.

Jewish Zionists build towns in Palestinian areas because these are sites mentioned in the bible—places the Hebrew people settled after fleeing slavery in Egypt. Today’s residents of Itamar settled here in 1984, deep in the heart of the Palestinian West Bank, near Nablus (First map shows Itamar and how settlements are encroaching on Arab towns). They named their town after Moses’ brother Aaron’s youngest son, who, tradition holds, was buried near here. The town was settled by Orthodox Jews, on land belonging to the Palestinian town of Awarta, taking half of Awarta’s lands to build their settlement, according to Awarta residents .

Second map shows Itamar and Awarta in the larger area of the central West Bank, from Jerusalem north to Nablus: Palestinian areas shaded in brown; Israeli settlements shaded in blue. Itamar and Awarta are in upper center.
Before any investigation, the IDF characterized the attacks in a headline: “Five Family Members Murdered in Itamar Terror Attack.” Haaretz described the Israeli response: “Extensive police forces and Israel Defense Forces are scanning the area for the suspect.” It’s what we would expect—an investigation into the murders, right?

In the US, we heard about the killings, but not much about the Israeli soldiers who descended on Awarta, made everyone go outside, beat the men of the village, and arrested 12 of them, between the ages of 15 and 40 (see AIC News). The soldiers camped out in villagers’ homes for five days. Swedish volunteers with the International Solidarity Movement, describe what they witnessed in the days following the murders—IDF soldiers smashing furniture, polluting drinking water, pouring liquids on computers (http://palsolidarity.org/2011/03/17061/)

We also did not hear much about the dozen settlers who retaliated by marching into Awarta, throwing stones and bottles at Palestinian homes. Or how the Israeli military intervened when the villagers tried to defend themselves (http://www.maannews.net/eng/ViewDetails.aspx?ID=368642). Or about the two young cousins, 18 and 19, who were killed in March, 2010, shot at close range by Israeli soldiers. And the long history of settlers harassing Palestinians as they harvest their olives in the fall. It goes on and on.

The road to freedom for Moses and his people had not been easy. Thirst, food shortages and other hardships of travel made everyone testy and quarrelsome. Their leader, who was so sure of himself when they fled Egypt, had run out of ideas. In the barren, dry desert, not knowing where to turn, in desperation, he “cried out to the Lord.” The Lord’s answer? “Go ahead of the people…I will be standing there in front of you.”

God had not abandoned them. Just as in the pillar of fire, God continued to go ahead of them, showing them the way, providing what was necessary for life.

This is how the Palestinians survive—they stay in Awarta and other West Bank towns, trusting that God will provide what they need to remain in their homes, farming their lands, picking their olives, selling vegetables…..resisting Israeli efforts to drive them away.

God of freedom-seekers, you call your people out of bondage and lead them to places of new life, to springs of fresh water. Open our hearts to the needs of those who are imprisoned, longing for freedom and an end to their oppression. Help us find ways to join in your liberating work. Amen.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Lent 2, John - Born Again

John 3.1-17


‘Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.’ (John 3.2)

The first time I went to Israel and Palestine, I expected to see some questionable sites of Jesus ministry, do some “good works” at the Lutheran school in Bethlehem and be depressed about the conditions Palestinians are forced to live under. I expected to feel sorry for the Palestinians, their every move controlled by Israel. If the peace negotiators had not been able to achieve an agreement, I expected there was nothing I could do.


But the people I met had different plans for me.


Their puzzling hospitality invited me into their shops and homes. The Palestinians I met know that they are prisoners in their own homes because my tax dollars provision the Israeli army. They know that American corporations manufacture the weapons of their oppression—Caterpillar bulldozers that knock down their homes and uproot their olive trees to build the wall, M-16s that are aimed at them at every checkpoint, F-16s flying low overhead and shooting to blow up their homes and schools, security cameras and computer systems enable soldiers to control and humiliate them at checkpoints.


Knowing that without my tax support Israel could not continue its occupation of their land, how could they welcome me into their homes and serve me tea and cakes? This hospitality is who they are. They have never blamed me for their impossible lives. And they have not given up.


Their faith in me to change their situation challenged me. When I asked what I could to to help change their

oppression, they told me, “Tell our stories. Surely if Americans knew how we are suffering, things will change.” I felt powerless. What could I do? I have no influence with my government. Yes it’s my tax dollars, but what can I do?


As I get to know them and see the work they are doing to build up their community, performing miracles of transformation, turning their prison into a healthy place for children to grow up, I feel like Nicodemus. His declaration to Jesus showed that he saw God’s hand in the healing work Jesus was doing. Like Nicodemus, I, too, have seen the power of God’s healing promises. I have seen people imprisoned behind a 25-foot wall being transformed by the new life they have received in Christ Jesus. I have seen God’s promise of abundant life being fulfilled in the work of these faithful Christians, as they create the Bright Stars after-school programs—music and dance, art and sports—for the children of Bethlehem. I have seen God’s miracles of transformation as I watch Muslim and Christian children learning about each others’ cultures and religions and practicing tolerance and peacemaking at Dar al-Kalima school. I have seen how these Christians, trusting in God’s promise of salvation, have been freed to live their lives AS IF the wall did not exist, to build a college in Bethlehem so that when there is peace, there will be young people equipped to lead a new Palestine.


I did not expect to be hooked by these people, but in Bethlehem I have seen miracles of healing and I have experienced a miracle of forgiveness, a hospitality as radical as Jesus’ words to Nicodemus: “You must be born from above.” Trusting God’s promises that their occupation will not be the last word, the people of Bethlehem have been given new life...and a future for their children. ˆ


Photo: Art Resists the Wall, Bethlehem


God of Abraham, you have promised eternal life for all who trust in your promises. Help us, who have been baptized into new life, to be instruments in your work of salvation in a world where people are perishing. Amen.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Lent 2, Romans - Abraham's Heirs

Romans 4.1-5, 13-17

“For he is the father of all of us, it is written, ‘I have made you the father of many nations’....” (Rom 4.17)


Standing on the Temple Mount in Jerusalem’s Old City....Nowhere in the Holy Land is our common ancestry more evident—Muslims, Jews and Christians. We are sisters, brothers, cousins. We share each other’s holy places, revere the same stones.

After passing through the security checkpoint and opening our backpacks for Israeli soldiers in olive green uniforms so they can check to make sure we have not brought any bombs and weapons, we walk with the other pilgrims up the ramp to the park at the top of the Temple Mount (the Jewish name), or Haram al-Sharif (the Muslim name). On the square atop this tiny piece of land that has sometimes sparked warfare, we stand next to the Dome of the Rock, the mosque built on this hilltop where Mohammad is believed to have ascended to heaven. If we walk to one side and look over the edge, we see men and women swaying in prayer while reading the torah at the Western Wall; they come to the place where the largest stones we can see in the ancient wall are remnants of wall of Herod’s Temple; it is considered the gate of heaven. Walking to the opposite side of the Mount, we look out over the Mount of Olives and the Christian churches built on the hill, commemorating Jesus’ time on the Mount of Olives, praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, weeping over Jerusalem, riding the donkey down the road and then up the hill to Jerusalem, with crowds shouting “Hosanna!” Photo: praying at the Western Wall.

One tiny space.....three stories of humanity’s search to know their creator.


As Paul points out, God had a plan when God covenanted with Abraham. God did not intend that the covenant would stop with Abraham. God’s plan was much bigger than Abraham. He was only the beginning, blessed “to be a blessing.” God did not make Abraham the father only of the Jewish people. Paul reminds the Romans that God’s promise included them too—God made Abraham the father of Israel, but also the father of “many nations.” (Gen 17.4)


So, this week, when we read of a family of Jewish settlers being killed in the West Bank, how can we trust God’s promises? When we hear of Arab villagers begin held under curfew and Israeli settlers attacking Palestinians to retaliate for murders that have not yet been solved, how can we believe that God truly is the father of the nations?


God’s promises seem far away.


But the people of Bethlehem, a short drive from this scene, do trust these promises. In a land where tomorrow is uncertain, the people of Bethlehem are building a college to educate the young people of Palestine, who cannot often get the permits to travel abroad for school. The first building of Dar al-Kalima College was dedicated in November, 2010. With the first classes offered in 2006, they have now graduated three classes of students in their two-year accredited programs in arts, multimedia, tourism and communications.


I look at what is happening and find it difficult to trust that God will bring something new out of the destruction, but for these people living under Israel’s occupation, facing eviction notices and unable to travel or visit family, God’s promises are enough.....for the building of a college! Photo: dedication of the college, Nov, 2010.

God of Abraham, we praise you for your unfailing promises to your heirs. Help those of us who live in relative comfort, to trust in your good intentions for your creation. Give us courage to partner with you in your new creation. Amen.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Lent 2, Genesis - Blessing and Curse

Lent 2 - Genesis 12.1-4a


Blessing and Curse


“In you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” (Gen 12.3)


“I will make of you a great nation.” As an advocate for human rights for Palestinians, these verses from Genesis stick in my gut. They represent families in East Jerusalem sitting on plastic chairs in the street, under a plastic tarp, evicted from their homes. This is what great nations do, isn’t it?—they rule!


My own country is also heir to these words. By most every measure, the United States is a “great nation.” And I am great, blessed beyond all my dreams, with health, wealth, security, and happiness. But grab the edge of a blessing, lift it up and turn it over and on the dark, wet underside you will find a curse. My country is a blessing, but it is also a curse...to its own poor and the poor of the world.


Given the choice, most of us would choose greatness. The question is—will our greatness be a blessing or a curse? Who is blessed by American’s greatness? Who is cursed by it?

For five years, Avital has lived in a house in East Jerusalem with her husband and two preschoolers. This is the Arab part of Jerusalem, on the Palestinian side of the Green LIne, the 1949 armistice line. Avital invited us into her living room and told us about her decision to move from Netanya to Jerusalem, a dream-come-true for her, to live within walking distance of the Old City. “This is our country,” she tells us. She says she lives here so that Jews can surround the Old City and protect their right to access.


She moved here because it is a diverse neighborhood. She looked forward to living with families from different backgrounds, but now she is just afraid of them—afraid to speak to the Palestinian families in her neighborhood because she sees them demonstrating against the evictions every week. She tells us that Palestinians are evicted bec

ause they do not pay their rent, that her house was “abandoned.” The Israeli courts have affirmed her views. “The demonstrators don’t want to hear us,” she says.


Her house is owned by an Jewish American, who is investing lots of money in real estate in East Jerusalem, where the Palestinian Authority has always planned to situate its capitol. He rents the house to Avital and her husband for a low rent, very affordable for these young Jewish families. Photo: Avital telling us her story.


Avital told us part of the story. Nasser Ghawi told us another. His family is one of the families evicted from their home in East Jerusalem. The Ghawi family was given their home by the UN in the1950s, they had lived since the 1950s, as restitution for the home they lost in 1948 when Jewish militias forced them from

one of the Arab villages Israel was clearing out to create their new Jewish state (Israeli historian Ilan Pappe documents Arab removals in his book, The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine). Although they

have documents showing ownership, an Israeli court ordered their eviction. Photo shows Nasser Ghawi standing by a poster protesting his eviction.


What does it mean to be God’s chosen people? Is it a blessing or a curse? Is Israel chosen? Is the US chosen?


How can our greatness be a blessing to the families of the earth? By selling them M-16s and F-16 fighter planes? By refusing to apply international law to Israel? By giving Israel$3 billlion a year for security, so that their soldiers can evict Palestinian families from their homes?


How can Israel’s greatness be a blessing to the families of the earth?


Gracious God, through your servant Abraham, you have shown us your faithfulness. Help us to trust, like Abraham, that you will bless us. As we live into that trust, help us to live so that we are a blessing to the nations of the earth. Amen.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Lent 1, Matthew - Command these Stones

Matthew 4.1-11

‘If you are the son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.’ (Mat 4.3)

Stones……they are everywhere in the Middle East. They form the roads and mark the paths of the goats on the hillside; they get stuck in your sandals. The stones are the architecture of the buildings—gleaming white in the sun. The Romans made roads from these stones that tourists walk on two thousand years later when they visit the Antonia Fortress in Jerusalem or the ruins of Sephoris near Nazareth.

The tempter stooped, scooped up some of these stones and challenged Jesus….”command these stones to become loaves of bread.” Sounds good—people are hungry and need our help. Jesus himself made miracle bread.

We are always most tempted by our own best intentions.

Twenty-seven Palestinian children were shot in the past year while they were gathering stones—gravel, building materials—or helping their families farm the area on the north end of the Gaza Strip, near its border with Israel. Defense for Children International reports on the injuries and deaths caused by Israel’s ongoing security measures.

In February, Mustafa, 17, Nashat, 16, and Mohammad, 15, were each shot in the leg while they were gathering gravel or watching others working on Palestinian land. Israelis still do not allow enough building materials through their checkpoints, so there is a market for gravel to make the cement to rebuild houses destroyed in Operation Cast Lead (January, 2009). Gathering the gravel is a good way to make some money to buy bread for your family. Until you are shot.

Awad, Abdullah, Said, Hasan, Ibrahim, Mohammad M, Arafat, Hameed, Mohammad S, Ahmad, Shamekh, Belal, Rasmi, Nu’man, Khaled, Mahmoud, Yahia, Mokhles, Suhaib, Fadi, Rami, Mahmoud S, Hatem, Ismail…..shot in the right leg, left leg, right elbow, the head, knee, torso, left arm. They were gathering gravel, grazing goats, collecting wood. They are 15-16-17 years old and they were helping their families survive. Children can earn $8-14 a day collecting building supplies from destroyed buildings close to Israel’s border. They were all working 30-800 meters inside the border fence. See photos of the boys and stories about each one

We could dismiss these injuries….lucky they weren’t killed…..they should have been more careful….everyone knows it’s dangerous to be too close to the border.

But we cannot dismiss our role in these shootings. It is our tax dollars that pay for this Israeli security, $3 billion every year. We pay for the weapons that shoot these children; we supply the bullets and the tear gas canisters that break up demonstrations against the land confiscations. It seemed like such a good idea to use our tax dollars to protect people from suicide bombers. But Abdullah, Mustafa, Awad and the rest of these young men are not suicide bombers; they are not the ones throwing rockets into Israel’s southern towns. And they are suffering. Every evening their mothers await their return, wondering who will be shot today. Photo: Gaza farmers loading their cart in 2009, near northern border with Israel - demolished farmhouse in background.

Gracious God, you led your people through the wilderness, through the rocky desert where Israelis and Palestinians are struggling and suffering. As you gave Moses your commandments, show us your will today and give us courage to worship you in the manner you desire…loosing the bonds of injustice, sharing bread with the hungry, bringing the homeless poor into our homes. Amen.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Lent 1, Genesis - Tilling and Keeping

Lent 1-Genesis
Genesis 2.15-17; 3.1-7

Dear God,
It’s me, Eve. Remember?

It sounded like such a good idea, especially when the snake put it the way he did. Knowledge is a good thing, right? What could be the harm? And the snake….he was so attractive and his words made me feel powerful. Tilling and keeping….it’s all so boring, and the snake was offering me something more—to really make something of my life.

But it hasn’t turned out so well, has it?—thinking I had the wisdom to rule the world has only brought us starvation, enslavement, pollution and war exploding all over the planet.

Look at what is happening in your part of the world today—it hasn’t turned out so good. Guns and tanks everywhere, bulldozers destroying people’s homes.

In Al-Walaja, near Bethlehem where your son was born, people are standing in front of the bulldozers building a 25-foot-high wall around their village. The Israeli government says the wall will protect the settlers who have built their town on Al-Walaja’s farmlands. And now the bulldozers are destroying more of their olive groves to make way for the wall. The soldiers are trying to keep the villagers away from the construction, throwing teargas grenades at the protesters, who are refusing to give up. All our knowledge is not working. Photo: Al-Walaja—Israeli soldiers tear-gas Sheering and arrest her.

That sweet-tasting and beautiful-looking fruit Adam and I ate has rotted and turned poisonous. All our knowledge has not made us happy; it’s just given us a false sense of our own power; and now we are ashamed. We build walls to protect ourselves and they end up imprisoning us; we make bigger weapons and they end up killing our children; we send our armies all over the world to keep us safe and we are in more danger now than ever.

Now we are trying to decide whether to help the rebels in Libya and all our knowledge will not end the suffering.

Looking back, I’m sorry I didn’t just stick with the job you gave us—to till and keep the garden, to serve you and protect what you created. It turns out all you wanted was our happiness—if we had only listened.

Maybe that’s why you gave us Lent.

Love,
Eve

Gracious God, you have given your creatures abundance beyond anything we could dream of. But we have not paid attention to your generous desires for our happiness and have followed our own desires for power instead. Accept our heartfelt remorse and turn our hearts to the tilling and keeping of your beautiful creation. Amen.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

A Lenten Geography - an invitation

Although it has become a message for every age, Jesus’ ministry happened in a specific place and time. As I walked the streets of Jerusalem, sailed on the Sea of Galilee and traveled the winding road down to the Jordan or through the hill country, I kept remembering that Jesus walked the same dusty roads and climbed the same dry hills I was walking each day—the land between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea—the land that the Romans called Judaea and later renamed Palestine. Today we call it Palestine or Israel or sometimes even Israel/Palestine, revealing our own confusion and ambivalence about this disputed territory.

In the time of Jesus, the land which was the Roman province of Iudaea or Judaea was the scene of war and violence, bloodshed, torture and displacement. The Roman occupation meant onerous taxes for the Judean peasants; when they objected, their protests were often put down violently, with all the protesters killed or crucified and entire towns burned to the ground. Finally the Roman Emperor Hadrian defeated the Jews for the last time in the third Jewish rebellion in 135 CE; by renaming the land Syria Palaestina (and renaming Jerusalem Aelia Capitolina) he hoped to wipe out all trace of the Jewish people and put an end to the Jewish rebellions. The Jews were even banished from Jerusalem and the surrounding area and Rome brought foreigners in to colonize the area.

When Jesus walked these roads, the land was under occupation—the Roman Emperor and his army, his governors and procurators controlled the land and the lives of everyone who lived on the land. The Judeans disputed Rome's control of their lives and their land. Today ownership of the land is once again disputed and the part of the land deemed Palestinian is again under armed occupation.

Beginning with the story of his birth, the gospel writers make us acutely aware of the role of the Roman Empire in the lives of even the most ordinary people in first century Palestine. In Luke’s account, the story of Jesus’ birth opens as Mary and Joseph make their way from Nazareth to Bethlehem for the mandatory counting—required by the Empire for all of the occupied people. The Empire wants to determine the value of that which it possesses. Matthew’s account, too, is specific about Jesus’ birthplace: “in Bethlehem of Judea,” and about the time: “In the time of King Herod” (Matt 2.1).

Even the preparation for Jesus’ birth was rooted in the land. Gabriel comes “to a city of Galillee named Nazareth” (Lk 1.26) to tell Mary of the impending birth. Mary travels the hills of Palestine, from Nazareth to “a city of Judah” (which places it near Jerusalem). So we are reminded that Jesus was born, not only in a specific place, but in a specific time, with a specific relationship to what was going on in the world. And so it is today. The land of Palestine/Israel is a specific geography and the story of the passion, of God coming to live among us, of God’s work in the world to bring about a new way of life for God’s creation, is ongoing.

Where do we meet God today?

Where is God at work among the people of Palestine and Judea today?

The stories of the “living stones,” the people of this holy land, tell us much about God’s work. Each time I visit the Holy Land, the people I meet beg me to tell their stories, with confidence that if the world knew what was happening in the land today, their lives would change and the occupation, the 60-year Nakba (catastrophe), would end. There is a growing movement among Jews within Israel that would end the occupation because of the way the system of checkpoints and walls and permits for Palestinians has damaged the humanity of the Jews themselves. Hear some of the stories as we reflect on the texts for the Sundays in Lent—stories of the “living stones” of the land of Palestine today—people working for justice and peace in this much-ravaged land today.
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Friday, March 4, 2011

Ash Wednesday, Isaiah - Shout Out!

Ash Wednesday
March 9, 2011
Isaiah 58.1-12

Shout out, do not hold back!
Lift up your voice like a trumpet!
Announce to my people their rebellion…
(Is. 58.1)

What is the worship God desires from us?

Is it the Bach cantata, or the praise band? The old familiar hymns, or some new ones?

Isaiah is very clear here: what God desires is not our “fasting.” God is not impressed when we wear “sackcloth and ashes.” God is not moved by our rituals. The fasting God desires?—“loose the bonds of injustice.”

When I hear these words of Isaiah, I see the demonstrators in Tahrir Square, as they shouted out an end to tyranny, an end to oppression, an end to the misery of the poor, who cannot afford to buy food for their families. They stood their ground, occupying the square, until their demands were heard. Mubarak stepped down—his ruthless and cruel suppression of dissent finally overcome by the sheer numbers and persistence of the demonstrators.

Like Isaiah, these demonstrators protest hypocrisy. Isaiah saw the hypocrisy of the people who worshipped God by wearing sackcloth and ashes, but did nothing to care for God’s people. The demonstrators shouted out the hypocrisy of a president who amassed a large fortune while the people were going hungry. They shouted out the hypocrisy of a United States that talks democracy and freedom, but provides $1.5b for “security,” which tortures and silences those who question the government.

Ironically, many of the demonstrators were inspired by President Obama’s speech in Cairo shortly after he became president, in June of 2009. They were listening when he called for democracy, and they took him seriously when he announced his commitment to “governments that reflect the will of the people.”

Each Friday afternoon in Sheikh Jarrah, as Jerusalem prepares for the Sabbath, a crowd gathers; drummers march through the streets, past the house that used to belong to the Gawi family. These demonstrators, primarily Jewish Israelis, call on the government of Israel to end its hypocrisy, to match its deeds with its words—they hold placards saying “Not in my Name!” and “Free East Jerusalem” and “End the Occupation!” This is their worship…..their Shabbat. Photo: Drummers leading protest in Sheikh Jarrah

On Fridays in Al-Walaja, Bil’in, Ni’lin, al-Ma’sara, Beit Ommar, Nabi Saleh, Bethlehem, and other villages throughout the West Bank, protesters leave the mosques after Friday prayers and march in non-violent action against the Israeli wall, still being built on Palestinian land. The wall continues to isolate these villages, cutting them off from families, schools, commerce and health care, forcing them to go through several checkpoints to get from one village in the West Bank to another.

Is not this the fast that I choose:
To loose the bonds of injustice,
To undo the thongs of the yoke,
To let the oppressed go free,
And to break every yoke?
(Is. 58.6)

God of all hope, your prophets called your people to actions of justice and reconciliation. Help those of us who live in the land of opportunity and freedom to break the yoke of oppression where we see it, to feed your hungry people and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, so that the world may see your light “break forth like the dawn.” Amen.