Clashes.

Israel / Palestine – Part 2

This next and final part of the blog may seem like a hodgepodge of events that don’t exactly come together in a neat and tidy pattern. That’s sort of what it felt like: we were given all these different experiences, puzzle pieces that didn’t go together, and we struggled to make sense of them and combine them as a cohesive whole.  This is an attempt.

Our second day in Israel, we went to Independence Hall in Tel Aviv, where Israel declared itself a country in 1948. We heard from a very enthusiastic, passionate historian name Ruthe. She was charismatic and emphatic in talking about her nation. She talked about Jews as being the underdog. They were persecuted for hundreds of years by Europeans, by Russians, even by Americans. In some of their most desperate times of need, they were blocked out of countries and left to die in concentration camps. Everywhere they went, they were driven out, killed, robbed, treated as criminals just because they worshipped differently, dressed differently, spoke differently. Millions of Jews worldwide were facing the same persecution, until one day, a man named Herzl came along and said “Enough. After centuries of this treatment, we deserve our own nation.” And the underdog, the age-old victims fought their way for a place to call home. It was an emotional speech, and it was evident how important this event was to Ruthe. There was also a Jewish family with us for her presentation who were in tears thinking about the struggles. Jews have faced an existential crisis for hundreds of years. And it’s important to remember that. Every decision made by Israel has come from a fear of losing everything. Because they have come close to extinction many times in our not-so-glamourous history.

                Shortly after Tel Aviv, we stopped by Jaffa. Beautiful place, Jaffa. It’s on the coast, you can see the Tel Aviv skyline light up the sky like celestial stars. There’s this pseudo-European marketplace, with high class shops. Very clean, very posh. We were enjoying taking pictures and admiring the view.

Beautiful Jaffa

Tel Aviv city lights. 

                Then Dil asked, “Do you know what an erasure is?” We didn’t. He then explain that an erasure is a place that used to be populated by Palestinians, by Arabs, who were kicked out of their homes by force so Israel could build something nice and touristy there instead. Jaffa is an example of an erasure. The nice area in front of the Western Wall in Jerusalem is another example. It’s where Jews gather on Friday nights to dance and celebrate the Sabbath Day. Hundreds of Arab families evicted and homes demolished to make room for something Israel wanted. Sepphoris is another example. It used to be an Arab city, but Israel pushed them out and now it serves as an historical tourist site. You might have heard of an organization called the Jewish National Fund, the JNF. In the 90s, the JNF solicited for donations to grow trees and beautify the countryside. Although much of this money did go to planting trees, much of it also went into destroying Arab villages to create forests simply for aesthetic appeal. It can be more complicated that just Israelis pushing Arabs out. Sometimes, like in Jaffa, the Arabs benefit from the parks made too. Some may have lost their homes, but for some, it’s not the worst thing.

Beautiful Israeli countryside

Then there is a neighborhood in Jerusalem called Silwan. It’s right outside the Old City walls. When you are on a tour with a Jewish rightist, he will take you to this gorgeous excavation site where they are uncovering ancient Jewish ruins say “This is David’s City.” Then he will point across the street and say “and that is Silwan, an Arab ghetto.” But what he fails to say is Silwan and “David’s City” are one and the same. The old city of David is in Silwan, which has become a slum due to Israel’s ghettoization of it. Israel is using politics and withholding tax dollars being paid by everyone, including Arabs in Silwan, for schools and sanitation in an attempt to push Arabs out. Israel wants Silwan to dig up their ancient sites to further prove this land is theirs. They’re crafty in how they do it too. Their actions are completely legal, or at least probably are. But just because something is legal, doesn’t make it right. Pogroms were legal too. We entered Silwan and spoke with a woman attempting to run a school for Arab children. She spoke of some pretty horrible things the IDF does to the children of Silwan, but also how discouraging it is to try to raise good men and women in conditions where they receive no support. They are set up for failure. It’s the same story in our own slums and ghettos. Kids will drop out of school and join gangs and get involved in things generally frowned upon in society because they are out of options and they want to support their families. It was a little startling to see how universal that sociology is.

"My homeland is not a suitcase and I am no traveler." in Silwan

To be able to enter Israel as a tour group, you have to have a tour guide. Our tour guide was a Palestinian named Hassan, and he was so levelheaded. Let me tell you a brief anecdote on the kind of man Hassan was. We had a tour with a radical rightist Jew named Daniel, and during this tour, Daniel was extremely rude to Palestinians, with full knowledge of who Hassan was and that he was in our group. Daniel called all Palestinians violent dogs who are selfish and want all of Israel to themselves, intolerant of Jews and who all wreak havoc on the peaceful neighborhoods of Jewish people. He made fun of the Quran and claimed the only thing Palestinians care about are their 70 virgins in heaven. He was impeccably rude to Hassan. He was talking to us, the students, but he knew Hassan was there. He knew Hassan was Palestinian. And Hassan just took it in stride. He still made sure none of our group got lost in the tight Jerusalem streets. He helped a young woman in our group up when she tripped. When I asked him about it afterwards, he shrugged. He didn’t say anything bad about Daniel, even though Daniel had plenty negative to say about him. But we all loved Hassan. For someone who had so many reasons to be angry, he was very even-tempered.  He was always waiting for us on the tour bus, and was never late despite the checkpoints he undoubtedly had to go through to arrive at the Jerusalem Center where we stayed the last week. One morning, we found out that he had been awake all night because there had been an IDF raid in his neighborhood and there was shooting. But he did not complain once. We probably would not have found out it had happened at all had it not been for one of our professors drawing attention to it.

Saying goodbye to our awesome tour guide, Hassan.

Having a Palestinian as a tour guide allowed us to travel into cities labeled “A Zones.” In September of 1995, world leaders got together to try to get Palestine and Israel to agree (one of many attempts at establishing peace). Part of the accord was labeling different areas in the West Bank as A, B, or C Zones. A zones were controlled by the Palestinian Authority, B Zones have joint Israeli-Palestinian authority, and C zones have full civil and security control by Israel. Israelis are not allowed to cross into A zones. If it weren’t for Hassan, we would not have been able to get into these zones either. Some really important historical and biblical places are labeled as A Zones, like Jericho, Bethany, and Bethlehem. These Zones were set up to encourage a two-state solution between Israel and Palestine. Palestine couldn’t quite get on its feet. Its government had a lot of corruption and things to work through, so the agreement was that Israel would give it some aid until it could be a country again. However, over the years, this dream of a two-state solution has diminished. The likelihood is very slim, if not impossible at this point due to Jewish settlements. Radical Zionists began building settlements in C Zones illegally. Palestinians and the United Nations kept getting on Israel to stop allowing the settlements to be built and basically Israel would try half-heartedly to stop them: “Hey guys, you should stop doing that.” And then when they didn’t stop it, “oh alright. Here’s some running water and electricity.” Today, millions of dollars have been invested in these settlements, and there’s no way Israel is going to lose all that money and move their people out. Even though it is in direct violation of all their agreements to make peace with Palestine. Recently it has become even more evident that Israel has no intention of removing these illegal settlements.

We entered Israel from Jordan, and it was immediately evident how must more Westernized and clean and aesthetically appealing Israel is. This is probably intentional as Israel wants to be very distinguishable from Arab culture. It is much greener, the farms are made of neater, straighter lines. The equipment is newer and the countryside is more lush. Israel is beautiful. But the hospitality ends there. Israel just isn’t very friendly as a whole. The checkpoints are brutal. I am not a fan of 18-year-olds waving automatic rifles in my face as an intimidation tactic to keep us tourists in line. Tourists, I might add, who provide most of the economic stability Israel has. I also did not appreciate the woman on the street stopping us in the street and asking why we were traveling with him, while pointing a jeering thumb at Hassan. She stopped a couple of us just a few steps outside of the Muslim quarter of Jerusalem. She couldn’t tolerate a Palestinian even three paces outside of their cage.

                Probably the most emotional, challenging site of the trip was seeing the Separation Wall. I didn’t even know it existed until we were there, and it was difficult for me to control my emotions.  The Separation Wall was built by Israel to separate Jews from Palestinians. It does not abide by international peace agreements. It almost seems arbitrary, as it snakes nearly 700 km (450 miles) long. It is 8 meters high (about 26 feet) and in many places has barbwire on the Israeli side. It prevents Arabs from going to school, work or just visit friends who live on the other side of the fence. It sends a clear message. Arabs are not welcome in Israel. And we’re going to make your life hell to deter you from getting jobs and attending well-funded school until you leave.

Separation Wall, Bethlehem

                The specific place part of the Separation Wall we visited was in Bethlehem, and we saw it from both the Palestinian side. It’s like night and day. Slums on the Palestinian side, posh and white on the Jewish side. Political graffiti and stories have been posted on the Arab side. It breaks my heart that we live in a world where building up a wall is still considered a solution.

                It all falls around the very real, very valid existential concern that Jews have. This means there are Jews today who are very afraid that tomorrow they won’t exist. They are ferociously defensive because when they weren’t, they were persecuted. There’s this concept that’s come about in the 19^th century called the “New Jewish man,” a man who is strong and fights for his life and his family. It’s fierce and sheds all the worn threads of passivity. They will fight for a home, even if it means crushing an entire nationality to do so. Isn’t that the gruesome truth about how any nation came into being though? The United States certainly falls into this category with brutality towards Native Americans. Nation-building isn’t pretty. Israel is just arriving late to the game. The established countries of the world just got all their bloodshed out of the way hundreds of years ago.

                But there’s something deeply ironic about all this. Israel has put a lot of effort into placing themselves as the victims in this equation. Their holocaust museum, when compared with the Holocaust museum in Washington DC, is shows a people deeply wounded. A people crushed almost out of existence. And they were the victims for many hundreds of years. Here’s a description of the Warsaw Ghetto in Poland during WWII.

•  Jews were rounded up from the suburbs and herded into the city, into an area too small to contain them all
•  Jews were closed off to the outside world.
• The Warsaw Ghetto’s wall was typically about 10 feet tall and topped with barbed wire.
•  Escapees could be shot on sight.

Doesn’t this sound familiar? Is this exactly what the separation wall is doing? Isn’t this what the erasures have been? Why thousands of Arabs were herded into Nazareth so Israel could demolish their home to plant trees? Israel is still playing the victim to justify oppression of Palestinians. 
              What this all comes down to is basic playground psychology. Hurt people hurt people, and the Jewish people have not been healed from their generations of wounds. They are a bully in the park because they were bullied first. Violence is how they were taught to function, and when Palestinians respond in kind, they point fingers at them and say “Look, what barbarians they are.” It’s interesting to see how Israel can keep playing the victim while victimizing and dehumanizing the Palestinian people. They definitely have the upper hand in this conflict.

                This isn’t to say it is completely Israel’s fault. I truly believe there should be a safe place for Jews. They are a culture of their own, they have a unifying faith, and they are great in number. That sounds a whole lot like a people who deserve their own country. The Palestinian government was weaker than the unified, organized Israeli government. Palestine’s rulers were corrupt and the people divided. There are Palestinians who have grown up being beaten down both physically and psychologically, and to some, the only way to get attention that they need help is through violence. Again, kid stuff. When you start looking at politics as schoolchildren, motives become clearer. HAMAS, (pronounced Hum-Ahs, if you would, Ben Carson) is considered a terrorist organization, but they were willing to reach out to the Arabs in the ghettos. For example, they built a park in Silwan for the children there when the Israeli government wouldn’t fund one. So Palestinians voted HAMAS in because that’s where they saw help. It sounds crazy to us on the outside, but these people are desperate.

                All of this has come from fear. Jews rake Arabs out of their country because they’re scared of losing it. Palestinians are defined by those violent days of rampaging where you see horrendous videos of Jewish rabbis being mowed down by terrorists. Both Israelis and Palestinians see the other as stubborn and unrelenting. Both believe that if they give an inch, a mile will be taken from them. Both have firm reasons to believe this land is theirs. And they are both valid.  Jews might have been there first, but Palestinians (or the Ottomans) were there longer. Jews won the war, but does that give them the right to repeat the same cruelties that happened to them? Jews may argue that they are a Jewish state because Israel is made up of more Jews than Arabs, but that isn’t counting the Palestinians expelled from their homes who now live in Jordan. Palestinians in Jordan still consider themselves refugees, even though an entire generation has grown up in Jordan. 

                I don’t mean to leave out crucial details. I recognize that not all Palestinians are like Hassan. I know there are some who breed violence. But that’s the face the media portrays, and I figured we see enough of that. The news in the United States also makes it seem like Palestinians are always the stubborn ones in the peace talks, and that Israel is really cooperative. Well, the truth is, neither side really has been helpful 100% of the time. Israel has a tendency to be compliant only when it benefits them. They will talk about how the UN recognized them as a nation in 1948, therefore they are a valid country, but ignore the UN when they asked them to stop building settlements in the West Bank. It goes back to playground psychology. We listen to the authority that we like until we don’t like them anymore. And we throw tantrums and bully others until we get our way.

                I have heard people tell me that the situation in Israel will never get better. Not because we can see the situation is futile, but because it has been prophesied as such. Even if that is the case, (which, in my personal point of view, it is not the case) does that make it okay for us as Christians to sit back and look on at the challenges and struggles in that part of the world? Are we so far removed, with an ocean separating us, on our high horse of first world perspective and entertainment gluttony that we take a hands-off approach? When did Christ ever take a hands-off approach to anything? He could have. He could have seen that a lot of the world would never believe in Him, would never accept His sacrifice. So why bother? Because it was never about just one group of people as a whole. It was never about just the Jews or just the Gentiles or just the Muslims or just the white people or just the Europeans. It has always been, from the beginning of all things, about us as individuals. So even if we can help one person, one child come to peace in Israel/Palestine, that is worth it.

I don’t know what the answer is. I don’t have a solution, and the truth is, Palestinians and Israelis don’t want a solution from America. From the outside we can offer suggestions, but often those suggestions put some of their deepest beliefs in jeopardy. We are a young country with young problems. These are old cultures, in lands rich with hundreds and thousands of years of history.  There is a lot of pride to overcome in the conflict. In our class discussions, we would bring forward a lot of different suggestions that to us made perfect sense. Our professors would immediately poke holes in any suggestion we had. Or they would suggest bringing this idea to a rightist Jew or a Palestinian which would be immediately shot down.

O Jerusalem, by Greg Olson

Outside of Jerusalem, peace seems almost possible. We were given the opportunity to speak with a lot of people from the different areas we visited. Tel Aviv is pretty heavily populated by Jewish people, but mostly secular Jews. You don’t see a lot of skull caps there. The people we spoke with in Tel Aviv were pretty open to talking with and about Muslims. Nazareth was amazing. It was Vaughn’s favorite city to visit. There were Jews and Christians and Muslims all living really peacefully. When asked if they would prefer to live under Israel or Palestine, Arabs mostly responded by saying “Whoever allows us to provide for our families, we’d be happy with either.” But as soon as you enter Jerusalem, you are met with checkpoints and rifles and palpable tension. Jerusalem is the real issue. Neither Palestine nor Israel wants a country without it—and they won’t agree to allowing a third party to have control of Jerusalem. Luke 19:41 says that Jesus wept over Jerusalem. After my experience in Jerusalem, I don't think Christ was just mourning over the destruction soon to come. I think he was also seeing the violence in our day. I think he saw the frustration, the fear, and the hopelessness. He knew the hatred of the two sons of Abraham that would come to a cusp in the 20th century.    

     

                In my second blog post about this trip I spoke about the “holy envy” I felt seeing the Western Wall on Friday night. It’s a stupendous sight to see a groups of people so patriotic and excited about their country, their heritage, their holy places. They are so enthusiastic about their faith’s rituals, a people so victimized by pogroms (state-sanctioned violence) and apartheid and shut out of “welcoming” countries during their own refugee crisis. It was humanizing and joyful to see this same group happy. But also incredibly sad. This conflict is so devastating. It was a glad occasion to see both young and old dance in celebration of their holy places, but you can’t see this joy without knowing the ground upon which they dance was once a Palestinian home, demolished for such a celebration. I would love to see all groups of people to have a reason – and a place—to dance and celebrate like this. And if our personal celebrations encroach on the freedom of another group, then we need to evaluate our individual actions. And maybe, just maybe, if enough individuals consider this, progress will finally be made.

Now in Technicolor

Israel and Palestine – Part 1

I couldn't figure out a way to compile my thoughts effectively into just one blog post about the politics of Israel and Palestine. So this is Part 1 of my now four part recap of our trip. I wanted to introduce some important concepts to keep in mind before diving into the actual issues we learned about. I'll talk about those in my next post. If you have questions, corrections, or comments about our experience, shoot me a message.

                This has taken me a really long time to post. I really needed time to process all that we learned in those short but intense two weeks. Let me first start by saying those two weeks were not a vacation, they were not a break. They were exhausting. Those 14 days were artfully orchestrated to force us to feel uncomfortable, to ask hard questions. We listened to a lot of propaganda, we heard from both sides, and from all over the political spectrum. It was a political science course in the deep end of the pool--at least for someone who majored in Chemistry. We saw a lot of the typical tourist sites, but we also had tours of Israel’s Parliament (called the Knesset) and talks from people who grew up in a Kibbutz. We attended a Q&A with Israeli grad students. We had lectures from a Jewish professor and from a Palestinian philosopher.  We often had lectures when we were on the bus while driving to another site. We spoke with Jews and Arabs and Christians in the different cities we visited. We heard from people who experienced Israel firsthand, who grew up there, who were intimate with the conflict. We heard from people working to bring peace, and others working to exterminate and expel those they felt do not belong in their homeland. It was a flurry of opinions and strong emotions, and a lot of it was hard to choke down.

Since returning to the States, people have asked me in passing who I support more, Israel or Palestine. Sometimes I have answered flippantly one way or another, depending on my mood or how much time I have to answer. But honestly when you see all sides of the argument and really understand where people are coming from, how can you pick a side? At some point or another, we all will find ourselves on either side of an argument where “our team” and our opposition are both at fault in some way. Circumstances are never black and white. If you’re seeing black and white in any conflict, re-evaluate your specs. We don’t need more arguments about who is right and who is wrong, what we need is conversation.

                 This is not a representation of all there is to know in the Israel / Palestine conflict. I took pages and pages of notes, and learned as much as I could, but it is deeper than two weeks can teach. And a couple blog posts can’t really cover everything. I can’t pretend that I don’t have a bias, but I will strive to show you the intricacies of the conversation that I witnessed. I will try to give you pieces of what was given, and hopefully by the end, it will become evident that the issue is more complicated and more intricate and yes, even more hopeless than it appears on the outside.

But before jumping into actual experiences, I need to explain the state of mind to be in when viewing this conflict. It was emphasized to us, as students. And if you don’t view this conflict with truly open eyes, you will miss aspects crucial to progress. Earlier this week, I posted THIS article on my Facebook wall. This is really at the root of my experience. In this article, he says, “We should all enter every issue with the very real possibility that we might be wrong this time.”  The author emphasizes that if we can’t argue for your opponent’s point, then you do not really see the issue as it is. In middle school I had an amazing English teacher who would assign us an opinion for a persuasive essay. And it was often contrary to our actual thoughts and beliefs. And that helped us humanize people who disagreed with me. It opened my eyes to the concept of gray areas. Arguments are not black and white. There are never just good people and just bad people. Often there are just two good people coming at a topic from different directions. This is a concept I have forgotten as I allegedly “grew up.” And this simple exercise of arguing your opposition's point is unthinkable to most people that we spoke to in Israel (on both sides, I might add).

There’s an old Indian fable about truth. You have these blind men who are trying to explain what an elephant is like, and each interacts with one part of the elephant. The blind men come together and compare notes to see that no one agrees. One man feels the elephant’s trunk and says an elephant is like a snake, another feels the leg and says an elephant is like a pillar. A third man feels the ear and says an elephant is like a fan. Is one blind man more right than another? No. They just have different perspectives.

Although I was immersed in the Israel/Palestine conflict for a couple weeks, I find it more important that I learned about considering different perspectives, particularly ones very different from my own. I’m really not good at this, and it was an exhausting, but much needed lesson for me. In the last few months as political tensions have gotten high about things I’m passionate about. I’ve been rude, stubborn and unhelpfully involved in political arguments on Facebook, and I regret that.  People are just people trying to live the best they can with the experiences they’re given. If I can’t get over myself and my own opinions, how can I expect anyone else to? I’m adding to the problem if I’m being argumentative. If you have been on the opposing side of me in an argument as of late, I owe you an apology. I have tried to make up for my harsh comments, but words are like ripping open a feather pillow outside a three story window. They’re gone, floating out into the air. Too late.

I’m still working on reigning in my vicious retorts that stem from emotional responses. But long story short, those two weeks in Israel really flipped my worldview on its head. It tugged at the strings of my soul in a way I wasn’t expecting. Many of my views have changed politically, and the experience has changed how I look at people in general, as a whole and individually. Travel can have that affect.

Another Vicious Cycle

One of the most important concepts we were taught was the idea of dehumanizing people. One of the professors on the trip, Josh Gubler, gave us a lecture on this. How can reasonable, good people be so cruel? How do we justify violence and treating people different than us like dogs? He talked about how it stems from how we view ourselves and our “groups” (i.e. churches, national groups, families, political parties) and how we often view everyone in “our group” as good and moral. Unfortunately that often translates into seeing people in other groups as bad and immoral. So we make up excuses for people that disagree with us by saying “She says that because she’s a democrat.” Or “He believes that because his family does.”  That’s dehumanizing. That’s making “The Other,” the groups different from our own, into something more animal than relatable. That’s placing that person outside of ourselves, across the fence. The only way we really know how to be human is what it is like in our own experience, so it is easy to dehumanize others when we don’t understand how they think. And dehumanization makes it really easy to justify aggression. Most of us don’t feel bad if we kill a mosquito because it’s not human. If you’re seeing someone as less than a human being, you can excuse a lot more violence inflicted on him or her. Then when that group reciprocates that violence back toward you, you further justify your actions. History repeats itself and the battle trumpets play on.

It’s a vicious cycle of violence and misunderstanding. You see it all the time in television shows, and so often we think “Come on, protagonist, get it together! Isn’t it obvious that you just need to understand XYZ?” One such television show that depicts this well is Doctor Who. Regardless of if you enjoy watching it or not, there’s a conversation in a recent episode that can be appreciated in the context of the Israel/Palestine conversation. It’s not terribly important to know context of the storyline, just that there are two groups deciding whether or not to obliterate one another. You can watch it here, or read the dialogue following the video.

The Doctor: You just want cruelty to beget cruelty. You're not superior to people who were cruel to you. You're just a whole bunch of new cruel people. A whole bunch of new cruel people, being cruel to some other people, who'll end up being cruel to you. The only way anyone can live in peace is if they're prepared to forgive. Why don't you break the cycle?

Bonnie: Why should we?

The Doctor: What is it that you actually want?

Bonnie: War.

The Doctor: Ah. And when this war is over, when -- when you have the homeland free from humans, what do you think it's going to be like? Do you know? Have you thought about it? Have you given it any consideration? Because you're very close to getting what you want. What's it going to be like? Paint me a picture. Are you going to live in houses? Do you want people to go to work? What'll be holidays? Oh! Will there be music? Do you think people will be allowed to play violins? Who will make the violins? Well? Oh, You don't actually know, do you? Because, just like every other tantruming child in history, Bonnie, you don't actually know what you want. So, let me ask you a question about this brave new world of yours. When you've killed all the bad guys, and it's all perfect and just and fair, when you have finally got it exactly the way you want it, what are you going to do with the people like you? The troublemakers. How are you going to protect your glorious revolution from the next one?

Bonnie: We'll win.

Doctor: Oh, will you? Well maybe -- maybe you will win. But nobody wins for long. The wheel just keeps turning. So, come on. Break the cycle.

…

The Doctor: And we're off! Fingers on buzzers! Are you feeling lucky? Are you ready to play the game? Who's going to be quickest? Who's going to be the luckiest?

…

The Doctor: Because it's not a game, Kate. This is a scale model of war. Every war ever fought right there in front of you. Because it's always the same. When you fire that first shot, no matter how right you feel, you have no idea who's going to die. You don't know who's children are going to scream and burn. How many hearts will be broken! How many lives shattered! How much blood will spill until everybody does what they're always going to have to do from the very beginning -- sit down and talk! Listen to me, listen. I just -- I just want you to think. Do you know what thinking is? It's just a fancy word for changing your mind.

Bonnie: I will not change my mind.

The Doctor: Then you will die stupid.  

                We get so stuck on being right, for winning, that we don’t see that we’re losing a whole lot more in the fight than if we would just have a conversation about it. We often talk about "flip-flopping" as one of the worst things a politician can do, but is it really? Is it the worst thing to stand corrected? We live in an age of information. When we learn more about a situation, when more facts come to light, don't we have an obligation to correct it? I think we would do a far greater injustice if we didn't change our minds or our opinions just to save face. 

Monochrome Vision

As Christians, it may be a lot easier for us to relate to the Jewish side of this conflict. We share scriptures with Jews. Our Bible says that this was the land of the Jews. We think we need to side with the Jews because they are our God’s chosen people. But I want to remind you that God created Arabs too. God created His children of all cultures, skin color, and traditions. 

1 Peter 2:9-10 says this:

9 But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvelous light:

10 Which in time past were not a people, but are now the people of God: which had not obtained mercy, but now have obtained mercy.

That’s us he’s talking about. We are his chosen people. We are Sons and Daughters of God through Christ. And as Christians, it is our duty to love people, and to love people we must understand people. That requires we look further than just face value. In this conversation, I urge you, despite your inclinations otherwise, to view Arabs and Muslims as part of God’s family of humans.

              I would also urge you to view this not as a religious issue. Keep in mind that the original Zionist Jews who moved to Israel were not religious in the least. Quite the contrary. The first Jews to return to Israel as part of the Zionist movements left religion behind. They didn’t want anything to do with faith, because they blamed being religiously zealous as the cause of all the persecution. Early Jewish immigrants moved to Israel, bought some land, and established a socialist colony called a Kibbutz. Since then, Jews are still mixed as far as having religious reasons for being in Israel or just a political reason. Like most large groups of people, you can’t paint them with a broad brush. You have religious Zionists and anti-religious Zionists. One way Israel united the two arguing groups was by moving Theodor Herzl’s body to Jerusalem, to make it both a center of faith and a center of Zionism. This did not originate as a battle of faiths.

                It’s also important to remember that not all leaders are accurate representations of their people. Take the United States, do you feel properly represented? You cannot judge all Palestinians by the actions and opinions of Yasser Arafat, and you cannot say all Israelis agree with Benjamin Netanyahu. It’s important to consider that maybe not all the people are in agreement with their leaders. 

                Participation in this program helped this conflict really come to life for me. It is my hope to help you see this conflict in color in much the same way. Not in the monochrome painted by media in the United States. I realize what I’m asking is a really difficult thing to do. It’s hard to question what you’ve been taught by people you respect, ideas that have been ingrained in you since you were small. I want to convince you to not just view this conflict through the eyes of religion. I want to convince you to see Arabs and Jews as people. Imperfect, scared people. These people are the same kind of scared that allowed communism into Russia, the same kind of scared that allowed Nazis to take over Germany, the same kind of scared that has modern-day American politicians wanting to build walls on our borders to solve problems. I want to encourage you, as an individual to be brave and to question what you’ve been taught. I am asking the almost impossible, but I’m asking you to entertain the idea that maybe you are wrong.

Art on the Separation Wall in Bethlehem. The chains spell "Fear-Hate-Fear-Hate-Fear-Hate"

                That doesn’t mean I’m asking you to tell me I’m right. I don’t necessarily want you to agree with me. I want you to see where I am coming from. I am begging you to look at this situation with your eyes wide open, refuse to see it in black and white. See the situation in Technicolor, see it in real life. Because I was proven wrong. I was shot down. I was slapped in the face with my own inconsistencies, biases, and half truths. And it was one of those humbling experiences I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for. It’s one of those experiences that help you become better, it defines you differently. Howard W. Hunter once said this: "When [the difficulties of mortality] humble us and refine us and teach us and bless us, they can be powerful instruments in the hands of God to make us better people, to make us more grateful, more loving, and more considerate of other people in their own times of difficulty." I would hope everyone would have the same experience at least once in their lives. 

                When you think you might be wrong, you learn ask different and better questions. A lot of good comes from getting over your pride. And I think a lot of politics and the human experience in general would go smoother if we emphasized humility over pride and black and white definitions.

The final post soon to come! 

A Dose of Pilgrimage

  

                In Islam, one of the pillars of their faith is to go to Mecca, a city in Saudi Arabia where their prophet, Muhammad was born. It is a very sacred pilgrimage called the Hajj. Muslims often save up for years and sacrifice much to go to Mecca. Islamic countries have a special five-day holiday for the pilgrimage specifically. Those who return, respectfully called “hajjis,” are treated with deep admiration from their family, friends, and communities—similar to how returned missionaries are treated in Utah and Mormonism as a whole. For Muslims, the Hajj is an experience paramount to their spiritual growth.

                As I’ve thought about my experiences in Israel and the Holy Land, I’ve contemplated this concept of pilgrimage. The Hajj is the most encompassing embodiment of pilgrimage in any religion I know of. They have a date set for it, they have a ritual of worship for the Hajj, and they have arrangements made for millions of Muslims to enter the city of Mecca annually. It’s one of those few parts of Islam that is truly unifying. And for the most part, everyone sets aside disagreements, titles of Sunni or Shiite, to worship in Mecca for a few days out of the year. It’s beautiful.

I love few things as much as bare feet in the sand and sea.

Last sight of the Mediterranean.

                But this is not the case for any Christian pilgrimage to the Holy Land. There is no when, why, how, or even specifically where for Christians. The Holy Land is more an example of separation of denominations than unification. The perfect example of this is the Immovable Ladder. Located on a part of the roof of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, it has been there since the 18^th century. It has not been removed because for anything to be done in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the six denominations which reside there, all six have to agree. And no one is agreeing whose responsibility it is to remove the ladder. In fact, it’s not even the original ladder. The original ladder decayed so much that another ladder was put in its place to maintain the tense status quo. Pretty messed up, huh? The disagreement in Jerusalem runs deeper than I think we can really fathom here in the relative peace that is in the United States. We’re not old enough as a country to know that kind of generational tension. The saddest part of this turmoil is that this likely isn’t even where Christ was buried nor crucified.

There are two or more sites for any given event in the Gospels, dedicated as “the place” where it transpired. Often, you have a choice between the Catholic-chosen site and the Greek Orthodox-chosen site, and the likelihood of either being the actual place is really very slim. This is due to theologians favorite concept of scriptural ambiguity. The canon may speak of some specific places with defining markers, such as “place of a skull” (John 19:17) and “having five porches” (John 5:2), and educated guesses can be made.  Some are closer than others, such as the aforementioned “five porches” of the Pool at Bethesda has archaeological evidence. Some are very obviously far from the truth. For example, the Via Dolorosa, the alleged path Jesus walked to his crucifixion, is obvious to historians that it is not where Jesus walked because those streets simply did not exist two thousand years ago. Jerusalem has been built on layers upon layers of city. The actual path Jesus took is buried hundreds of feet down below the Ottoman built streets we now walk there in modern Jerusalem.

Pools of Bethesda

A few places come to mind as the closest we came to actually being where Jesus walked: the Western Wall tunnels, the steps by the Church of St Peter in Gallicantu (possibly where Christ walked from the Last Supper to Gethsemane), the steps in and out of the Temple of Solomon by the City of David, the Pools at Bethesda, and, of course, the Sea of Galilee. Every place else has a large margin of doubt or lack of any evidence.

Steps by Church of St Peter

In the Western Wall tunnel.

worth a read.

I don’t say this to be a pessimist or overly critical. I have no problem with Christians building churches to celebrate important biblical events. I welcomed the opportunities to think about the Bible stories and discuss events with our friends. But when it becomes a catty fight over who has the correct place where Jesus healed an unnamed leper in an unnamed place, we miss the point of the Bible’s telling of the story. If Heavenly Father really cared where a specific even occurred, he would have made it clear in His word. By arguing with different denominations and making your own holy sites kitsch to attract more tourists, you miss the point. It isn’t important where it happened, what’s important is that it did happen. Jesus did heal the hurt and the broken. He did feed over five thousand people—and maybe more than once. He did atone for us in the Garden of Gethsemane and carried our burdens, heavier than any cross of wood, and died for us to become whole. He did rise again to show us that we too can become new again and again and again. That’s the important part of this story, and that’s one that doesn’t take a trip to Israel/Palestine to learn. Heavenly Father is kinder than that. I don’t have any monopoly on sacred experiences just because I have been to the Holy Land. It could be just as effective to create your own “Via Dolorosa” in your neighborhood to remember and learn about Christ’s walk to Golgotha.

View from BYU's Jerusalem Center.

You can see a great lookout on Jerusalem, including the Temple Mount from the Jerusalem Center.

That said, I want to talk about my favorite parts of visiting the Holy Land. I recognize it is a rare experience not many will have, and I cherish my personal encounter with the land of Israel and Palestine. I had forgotten what a thrill travel can be. We had many unique opportunities to encounter different cultures and be taught by people who did not hold our same sentiments or opinions about religion, politics, or even what food is good. Our trip was unique how it incorporated politics and religion and history. The creator and dictator of the program, Dil Parkinson, did a masterful job of giving us polar opposites in opinions and forcing us to question a lot of our preconceived notions. It was an exhausting roller coaster. But here are the highlights for me:

At the mouth of the Jordan River, near Tel Dan.

Israel/Palestine is a different flavor of beautiful I haven’t encountered before. Our student group was rushed through most places, a quick walkthrough here, just long enough to snap a photo then back on the bus. I never felt we had enough time. But in cathedrals and churches, our professor always had us sing a hymn. That was my favorite part of the entire trip. What an opportunity! I’m no stranger to cathedrals. But to sing in them! Hymns that bring the Spirit in churches built to commemorate miracles and events of the life of Christ? That’s the best Christmas gift I could receive besides Christ himself.  I love hymns and I can think of no quicker way to feel the Holy Spirit than through music. It was one of the most uplifting experiences I’ve ever had. Especially in places frought with so much political violence and unrest, singing hymns in those places were a sweet reminder that we have the Lord God Almighty at the helm. Cathedrals were built to be sung in. They were built to not just turn the gaze upward, but to take your voice on high, to echo off the stone ceilings and arches, like a gentle prayer reverberates in the heavens.  I definitely see why Christians go to cathedrals to feel closer to God.

Gallilee outside Church of the Primacy

Near Garden Tomb, where it hailed on us something fierce.

Gethsemane.

We went to a lot of jaw-dropping, immense, gorgeous cathedrals with inspiring art and stained glass windows. The kind that your contacts go dry from staring at its splendor.  I don’t think there will be another time in my life where I go to so many different churches in such a short period of time. That in itself was worth the trip.

...

 

Vaughn and his roommate, Andy.

Dome of the Rock.

Dome of the Rock detail. 

The Galilee was the most rewarding visit for me. This area remains the most untouched, least commercialized out of the places we visited. Its natural beauty was splendid. We stayed right on the Sea a couple nights, and I could have looked at it for days on end. Here was really the only place I could imagine Christ actually walking. This was His land. This is probably what it actually looked like. This was the only place that really made Bible stories come alive for me. I could see the setting, the background for the signs and miracles of Christ and his followers. There weren’t cities to obstruct the scenery, no blockades, no massive walls, no checkpoints, no IDF soldiers with rifles. Just beauty as it has been for thousands of years. The churches we visited in Galilee were gorgeous, but humble compared to the larger cathedrals and basilicas in other areas. It was reminiscent of the small churches started at the onset of Christianity.

Sunset on Sea of Gallilee.

on a boat on the Sea of Gallilee

This lady is the bomb dot com!

Nazareth is in Galilee, but as a city, felt very different from just being on the Sea. Someone said it felt a bit like a beach town, and I completely agree. People were a lot more easy-going. I’ll talk more about Nazareth in later posts, but I want to mention the Basilica of Annunciation. This is where Catholic tradition places the angel Gabriel speaking with Mary. This Basilica is awe-inspiring. It has these massive, stunning mosaics lining the walls from all over the world.

Basilica of the Annunciation of Mary, Nazareth

Delicious Za'atar.

Another highlight was visiting the Wailing Wall (also known as the Western Wall). This is all that we remains of Solomon’s Temple of old. It is deeply sacred to the Jewish people, and every Friday evening at sundown, they welcome in the Sabbath through dance and song at the Wailing Wall. It’s a pretty ironic title when you see how joyful the Jews are who celebrate there. They celebrate that it’s the Sabbath (Jews celebrate the Sabbath on Saturday, and it begins at dusk on the Friday before), and they celebrate that they have a state to live in and they celebrate the opportunity to congregate. There are a lot of political overtones that are difficult to overcome, but if you take the situation as it is—that is, people celebrating their faith and freedom—it is inspiring. I, personally, am not so zealous about the Sabbath day, and I don’t celebrate the opportunity I have to express my faith as enthusiastically. There is a lot to learn from other faiths. One of the professors with us called it “holy envy,” when you admire traditions of another’s faith. I could definitely use more zeal and enthusiasm in my worship and in the ordinances of my faith.  I wish I could show you pictures of the dancing and joyful people at the Wailing Wall that Friday night, because it is incredible. But out of respect for Jewish Sabbath custom, I refrained from photography. Here are photos from another time when we visited the wall.

The Western / Wailing Wall.

Faith aside, we also visited some really cool historical places. I loved Caesarea Phillipi (I could have spent waaaay more time there), Masada, and the Herodian, all places built by King Herod. I had learned he was a megalomaniac, but seeing that mania manifest itself into such grandiose and expensive and challenging—nigh impossible projects really helped me to see why they called him insane. He did a lot of amazing things and forced progression in architecture and engineering. He was probably the first to do underwater cement for Caesarea, and built a circular port where there was once just sea. Masada is one of the remaining desert castles he built with enough storage to last for years if he ever needed somewhere to escape to. And the Herodian is a man-made mountain he commanded to be made as his tomb. So….yeah. He was a megalomaniac.

We also went to Qumran, where the Dead Sea scrolls were discovered. We visited Akko (a crusader castle), Megiddo (also known as Armageddon), Bethany (where Lazarus was raised from the dead), Bethlehem (a not so little town nowadays), Capernaum (Peter’s town), Jericho (the oldest city in the world!) and many, many other places, some of which I will talk about in another blog.

Dude. Mosaics. So many mosaics. Dil had a thing for them, so we saw a lot of them.

This is called the Mona Lisa of mosaics, in Sepphoris.

When we came into Jerusalem, I was reading a book called “Making their Own Peace” by Ann Madsen. It is a book about twelve amazing women of Jerusalem. They are Christians, Jewish, and Muslim. It’s about how they live in the situation in Jerusalem and maintain hope. These are amazing women who opened orphanages, worked in hospitals, taught in schools. Vaughn and I were had the honor of receiving a personal tour in the Spafford Children’s Center, a school started by one of these amazing women. It’s by the Damascus Gate in Jerusalem. Our tour guide, Yezzin, was the drama and art teacher, and he was amazing. Talk about cheerful! He was a ray of sunshine. He loved his job, and he was more than happy to show us where he worked. It’s an amazing place. It was a breath of fresh air amidst the heaviness you feel in most of Jerusalem, with children’s pictures covering the wall, brightly colored walls and doors, and happy teachers. I loved it there, and I can see why Ann Madsen thought it worthy to write about it and the women who started it.

me trying not to look too excited to be there.

playful pops of color was everywhere in the Spafford Children Center

To close, I would just like to touch back on this concept of visiting the Holy Land as a pilgrimage. I loved our visit to the sites. I loved the opportunity to ponder the events of Christ's life. I loved singing sacred hymns in cathedrals. I am extremely grateful for the experience, and recognize how rare an opportunity it is. But my faith in Christ would be the same either way. I knew who he was before I went to Jerusalem, and I still know Him. I know he died for my sins and for yours. I know He is why we can have hope, and especially after witnessing the turmoil and tension in Jerusalem and in the Holy Land, that hope is significant.