From Jerusalem, Newsletters Home from The Rev. Russ Siler

Pastor Siler and His Wife Anne served the English-speaking Redeemer Congregation in Jerusalem from August 2003 through June 2007. 

From Jerusalem # 39  June 2007

It is almost as if I am returning to school after a summer break, preparing to write the obligatory essay on what I did over my vacation. Save for the fact that this term stretched out for four years, it was truly a break—a world apart from that which most people in my home country experience on a daily basis. Here is a world in which one is not free to travel where one wishes. It is a place not of freedom, but of restrictions—not of liberty, but of oppression. As my wife Anne and I prepare to leave this land which has been our home these past few years, I wish that I could package this segment of our lives and make it available to you in such a way that you could see, feel, hear, smell, taste, and touch the things we have. Then you would be as overwhelmed by joy, sadness, elation, and despair as we are. But I cannot. All I believe I am capable of doing is telling you what I will miss and what I will not miss as we return to the United States .

I will miss the beautiful homes left to us from a magnificent past, with their arched windows and ornate porches and high ceilings. I will not miss the piles of rubble and rebar which mark demolished Palestinian homes—more than 15,000 of them since the Occupation began, most on the flimsiest of pretexts by the Israeli army or municipal authority—where I know lie crushed under each one a family's dream of a place of their own.

I will miss the magnificent countryside, littered with rocks and hills of every size and description, and the rugged landscapes that Abraham and Sarah, Hagar and Ishmael, Jesus, Peter, and Andrew hiked through. I will not miss the monstrous Wall, barbed wire fences, dirt mounds across unpaved village access roads, and ugly, prison-fortress-like crossings and terminals, ubiquitous in their barbarity. I won't miss them, because Israel presents them to you as dire necessities for their security, indeed, for their very survival, while we see the truth of Israel's reality which is to carve up Palestine into ever tinier clusters of humanity whose religious, cultural, societal ties are so slashed into disconnected ribbons that a nation is impossible.

I will miss ever so much the innocent smiles and playful giggles on the faces of the children—Israeli, Palestinian, international—all over the place. I will not miss the heaviness dragging on my heart like an anchor, as I realize how very soon that playful innocence will fall victim to fear and hatred, to bigotry and racism.

I will miss the steady stream of visitors—vacationers, pilgrims, seekers, tourists—that arrive like clockwork at our 9:00 am Sunday worship in St. John's Chapel. I will miss their delight at being in the Holy Land—many of them first-timers, but many more veterans of the land—their eagerness to meet Palestinian Christians whom, they soon learn, have been a vital presence here for the entire life of the Christian Church, and their openness to listen to narratives of the deadly conflict that the rest of the world seldom hears. I will not miss the busloads of tourists whose guide takes them to Bethlehem for a quick peek at the Church of the Nativity, then hurries them back to Jerusalem , because, "It's dangerous in the West Bank ."

I will miss the witness of the courageous Israeli and Jewish women and men—Machsom Watch, Rabbis for Human Rights, Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions, Women in Black, and all the others—as they tirelessly seek to stand in solidarity with people who seek justice and to educate those who wonder what unspeakable things are being done in the name of their beloved religion. I will not miss those coarse voices who violently insist—to the detriment of intelligent dialogue, discussion, disagreement, debate, or dissent—that any person who dares to criticize Israeli policy is either self-hating or anti-Semitic.

Perhaps, however, more than anything, I will miss the thousand times a week I hear ahlan wa salan—Welcome—singing out with genuine warmth from face after face of those who are desperately eager to let me know that, regardless of appearance, religion, or nationality, I am their brother. I have no doubt whatsoever that, were one of these persons to be down to his last piece of bread, he would beckon me closer and say, "Come, sit, eat!" What I will never miss are the questions spontaneously emerging from these same warm hearts, "Why does America treat us this way?" "Why do they help Israel oppress us and take our land?" "Will you please tell Mr. Bush that all we want is to be treated fairly; we only want justice." I will not miss these questions because I think they are harsh or prompted by bad intentions, but because I have no answers which will make a whit of difference to my sisters, to my brothers who are so baffled by the way our country treats them.

Some of you have asked what I will do when we return to the States. At this juncture I can only grin broadly and say "Retire!" We do know there are challenges and adventures awaiting us; we just don't know what or where or when. The only certainty in my mind—No. Make that in my heart—is that I will continue to speak up and to speak out. My friends here would understand if I did not. They would softly comfort me, "We know how hard it will be." The problem is that I will not be that easy on myself. I cannot see the tears in my brother's eyes without tasting the salty bitterness in my own mouth. And I cannot swallow the bitter taste; I must open my mouth and let it out!

Thank you for your faithful willingness to listen and for your constant support. They have been life-giving! Peace!

From Jerusalem #38     15 May 2007

On the way to Redeemer Church in the heart of Jerusalem 's Old City this morning I saw a very familiar scene. Three little Jewish children, about five or six years old, were on their way to somewhere, their smiles and skipping steps reminiscent of a million little ones from a thousand towns and neighborhoods. Their innocence and exuberance issued a command to smile with them…and I did. Yet scattered around this merry band were four armed and radio-equipped security guards. While I was pondering this abnormal, four-to-three ratio, my eye caught some movement in another direction. There were two latecomers, grinning and running to catch up. In my mind these last two children were every bit as safe as the others. Whoever sent them out alone must have thought so, too. Still, we dare not minimize the fears that many carry with them always, regardless of whether we think they are groundless. But, again as always, I was saddened by the culture and climate of fear. These particular children are from an Israeli settlement right in the heart of the Christian Quarter. They live in a building which belongs to the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate; perhaps several hundred live there in a "mini-occupation" which goes back to the early 90s. They have virtually no interaction with the rest of the local population. They are just there.

A few minutes earlier I had driven by Dung Gate. The site was overrun by school groups, each group of whom was escorted by armed guards. It was little different from other spring mornings in Jerusalem:  Palestinians and Israelis carefully segregated by fear and isolated from each other by their competing stories of who they are and what they want and what they think of each other. The newspapers are full of this or that opinion concerning who is serious about peace and how the sides should deal with each other.

Perhaps the difference for me now is that Anne and I will leave this place that has been a home for us for the past four years in just a few weeks. We will leave a lot of things behind, and we will carry a lot with us: friendships, memories, encounters. One thing is absolutely clear: this has been a life-changing experience. We will not return—we can not, we must not—to where and what and how we were before we arrived in the Holy Land . And I am struggling with how I will interact with others and what I will say when we talk. I have absorbed at least several books worth of information, history, names, places, atrocities, injustices, meetings, pain, death, and….small signs of hope. I have somewhat of an answer to a multitude of questions and attitudes that come from individuals whose awareness of the situation here has been garnered solely from the fleeting and often distorted headlines and storylines available from the popular media. I know something of the tangled and twisted narratives of Israelis and Palestinians, of Christians, Muslims, and Jews. I am not an expert, but I do know enough to confuse thoroughly any person stoic enough to listen to me as I try to untangle those histories.

Several weeks ago I was discussing with a friend and colleague this dilemma. About to tear my hair out [and I can't afford to lose any] over this puzzle, I was going on about the complexity of the conflict. He listened for a short while and then stated quietly, "It's not." "Not what?" I fired back. "It's not complex at all. It's simple. End the occupation." And he is right. I can tell you that this was not an empty land in 1948, and you can respond that the Jews needed a homeland, especially after the Holocaust. And with that one exchange we have delineated our boundaries and the proverbial "heated debate" is on. We will both learn a little, even if we refuse to admit it, but we will end up no closer to a resolution than at the outset. We will have beaten each other to exhaustion with fact and figures and fears and frustrations, but neither of us will have changed the other's mind. But suppose we look forward, using the past only to inform us, not to make our arguments.

Suppose we can agree that all the people of historic Palestine not only need, but deserve a home. Suppose we agree that the people of today's Palestine—as unjust as it sounds—can get along, can form a living, vibrant nation from just 22% of historic Palestine: Gaza, East Jerusalem, the West Bank. Israel can have the rest. By the way, this is not "pie in the sky." This proposal is out there. The Arab League has laid it on the table. In return they offer full recognition of Israel and a promise of peace. Okay, okay, you can be skeptical. Both peoples have ample reason for doubts about the approaches of the other. But there are ways for the world to measure and guarantee that pledges are kept and that promises take shape in reality. It is just this simplicity that I will take home to the United States .

People here of all descriptions are worn out by conflict and hatred. They are tired of fear and oppression. Only the "righteous right" seem to derive energy from continued fighting and gratification from killing and the taking of other's lands. It is time for all people who yearn for peace with justice to shout Enough! Forty years of occupation must end. Those whose only homes for fully 59 years have been refugee camps must be set free. The pall of death, woven from strands of religion and nationalism, must be lifted before it smothers all life.

"It's not complex at all. It's simple. End the occupation." It can happen. Tell your pastor, your bishop, your congressional reps, your neighbors. Shout it from the rooftops!

From Jerusalem # 37      15 April 2007

My wife Anne and I, along with two close friends, went this past Friday to the Palestinian National Theater for a performance of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute,” presented by a touring group from England . The work was outstanding! What was most entertaining for me was the ease with which these young performers acted and sang—even enjoyed—their roles. The same was true for the small orchestra accompanying the opera. The flow and rhythm were so smooth and natural that one was tempted to forget the incredible amount of time and energy that went into this one night. Long years of study, literally countless hours of practice, and exhausting days of draining rehearsals all combined to create the illusion brought to that small stage here, an illusion which allowed the members of the audience to forget for a few hours the oppressive circumstances in which we all live and work. It was a marvelous respite.

Yet, in the wake of that night there returned a reality which is so pervasive in this part of the world that even Mozart was veiled with the pall which seems never to lift from this holy place. On Saturday, less than twenty-four hours after the night out, I walked both to and from the Old City from our flat. On the way home my eyes were drawn to a small house just behind the gas station where we fuel our car. Remarkably, it was still standing. Just three days before that performance I had received a call from a colleague that a “house demolition” was about to be carried out. We could easily see the house under threat from our flat. When I arrived at the site, I found a relatively quiet scene. Police and/or army [It's often very hard to tell the difference.] troops were standing in disorder, as if waiting for someone to give directions. There was a group of civilian workers clad in florescent orange and green vests. [I later found that these were the people who had actually emptied out the furniture and personal belongings of the family living there.] There were photographers and videographers on an adjacent rooftop, along with reporters from several local and international news outlets. And there were the rest of us: NGO staff concerned about both the probable injustice about to commence and the welfare of the Palestinian family who lived in the house; representatives of Rabbis for Human Rights; staffers from ICAHD, the Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions; and others like me.

In addition to the people described above, here is what we saw. At the foot of the steps which led from the sidewalk all the family's worldly goods were piled in an ungainly heap in one corner of the small stone courtyard. A little further on perhaps fifteen officers and workers were milling around, talking either in small groups or on mobile telephones. They wandered in and out of the dwelling with absolutely no regard for the fact that it was someone's home. Oh, yes, lest I forget, those "someones" were all gathered and confined to an area in the rear of their house. If you want to see a study in confusion, fear, and near panic, look into the face of a young child who has just been told by an older sibling that his house is about to be destroyed…in front of his eyes.

This story had, not a happy ending, but a deferred ending. The waiting atmosphere I first encountered was because a judge was considering a "stay" to the demolition order. The stay was granted for four days after the family paid a bond of 30,000 Israeli Shekels [about $7,500]. When I left that place the homeowner was showing Rabbi Arik Ascherman of Rabbis for Human Rights a whole box of receipts and official papers. From what I could piece together from the comments of those around me who understand Hebrew, the man had been working on getting the proper permits for more than two years and had met nothing but promises and delays. Finally, based on those promises, he had built. Every day of the construction—just a baseball throw from the Old City—police or other officials had passed by the site, quite aware of what was going on. Now, the construction over and the dwelling occupied, the demolition was about to begin, because he had no permit! Now each day, as I pass the house, I hold my breath as I round the curve, praying that I will see walls, not rubble. I can't help but think that if I am that afraid, how terrified the family must be.

People often ask, "How can this be?" They are trying to comprehend such things through the focus of our American democracy. Here things are very, very different. Here we know that in the first four years of the Intifada [2000-2004] over 5000 houses in the West Bank —including Arab East Jerusalem—and Gaza were demolished. Here we know that in the nearly 40 years of illegal Israeli occupation of those areas more than 15,000 houses have been destroyed. Here we know that in those same 40 years the government of Israel has sponsored housing units in Arab East Jerusalem: for Israelis—100,000; for Palestinians—500. Here we know that it is next to impossible for a Palestinian to acquire the needed permits to build a house.  Here we keep asking the question, "Why does the United States watch this destruction and support it?" We continue to fail to find a single moral or ethical justification for such complicity.

Two things stand out from this episode. The first is that, from the perspective of a parish pastor, I can't tell you how gratifying it was last week to have several members of our small congregation around the home, trying to do what they could to protect this virtually defenseless family. It was a dramatic example of God's servants carrying the proclamation of Sunday directly into the lives of ordinary people. Gathered there also were members of the Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel , adding their support along with their witness of protest. The second is that all the statistics, like those I cited above, will never carry the true impact of the story. But if the world could look into the faces of those children silently waiting for their home to fall, things would never be the same. That is the tragic face of the occupation—children who will grow into adults without knowing a hint of freedom.

I asked one of the young soldiers there if he thought he would be able to sleep that night. He said he didn't speak English, but I have come to recognize the look in the eyes that says otherwise. I know he was already wondering, perhaps worrying, about his rest that night. The illusion may no longer work for him.

From Jerusalem # 36      15 April 2007

Way back in 2003 as I was preparing to begin this ministry in Jerusalem , I remember so many friends and acquaintances saying to me, "Well, we're counting on you to bring peace over there." I'd grin and say something like, "If it happens while I'm there, you can bet I'll take credit for it!" It was our way of putting a smile on the continuing, grim countenance of fear and conflict. Reality soon set in, however, and I quickly realized how low a priority peace with justice is apparently given by the community of nations of which we are all a part. Economic prosperity, a yearning for isolation characterized by "What can I do!" or "I'm sorry, but that's not my problem."  along with those approaches loosely termed "national interests" all outrank peace with justice in our lists of international values. Yet I find that individuals and groups all over the world do value justice, especially for so many who are in such dire circumstances. It is these people who hold the keys to a lasting peace in this small, but vital piece of the Middle East—a peace which will bring security and freedom from fear for Israelis and the coveted right of self-determination for Palestinians. I know them, because they write me and tell me, and when they come here, they travel into the West Bank and see and hear for themselves.

Our small congregation here at the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer in Jerusalem 's Old City welcomes many, many visitors to the Holy Land . They are received not only in our worship services, but also in our work and social settings. Just about all of us feel a great obligation to share with them the news, the opinions, and the real faces of the suffering they are not hearing or seeing from other sources. We pray for them, and we pray with them. These are some of our fervent prayers.

We pray that Israel , the United States , and the rest of the international community will truly give peace a chance by removing the roadblocks thrown in its path. Anyone who is following developments here in even a casual way will be aware that there have been three "conditions" placed before the new Palestinian government. Nations are righteously proclaiming that they will not deal with the government until these demands are met. The first of these is the need for the new Palestinian government to "…recognize Israel 's right to exist." This is not even a legal question; it is a philosophical one. We can pose arguments and counter-arguments until the proverbial "cows come home," but until the parties can sit together and present their fears, wishes, needs, and desires, no progress will be made. The United States and Israel have both sat down in the past with those they regarded as bitter enemies. They sat at the table in attempts to find the ways they could live together. They found they could not bully or batter their opponents into acceding to their point of view before they talked. They could, however, join with them in finding paths, albeit at times tortuous and circuitous, to a sustainable peace characterized by mutual respect.

The second demand is that the Palestinian government renounce violence. Our prayer is that both Israel and the Palestinian Authority will renounce violence as a means to achieve their respective goals and aims. The longer I live in this world, and especially in this land, the more I grow convinced that violence begets only violence and enmity in return. Neither Israel , nor the Palestinians, nor my country enters the conversation concerning violence with innocence, much less with "clean hands."

The third demand is that the democratically-elected Palestinian government agree to abide by all previous agreements with Israel . Many people here share that hope. The progress of past efforts needs to be incorporated into the progress of the present. We who pray simply add the fervent desire that this would be a requirement for both sides. Israel has agreed before to cease the expansion of its illegal settlement activity in occupied East Jerusalem and the rest of the occupied West Bank . Yet, to the best of my knowledge, the building of homes for Israeli settlers on Palestinian land has not only continued, it has actually picked up speed in the wake of signed agreements such as the Oslo Accords of the 1990s. Palestinians must live up to their agreements and commitments, but to this point the international community [read the United States] has yet to press the nation of Israel to live up to its promises. Such inequities serve only to impede the quest for peace with justice.

My church, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America [ELCA], has an on-going effort known as the World Hunger Appeal. It raises in the neighborhood of $16-17 Million each year for relief, development and capacity building among the world’s poorest and most oppressed peoples. Some of that money finds its way into this corner of the world. It is my prayer that, along with these funds, the ELCA will send a clear message to those individuals and nations who are trying desperately to manage and steer the peace process: Let there be no more double standards! Then both sides will—maybe, just maybe—begin to see faint rays of hope struggling over the dark horizon.

These are our prayers as we prepare in hope to celebrate the light of a new Easter dawn!

From Jerusalem #35      17 February

Friends, the government of Israel is afraid…very afraid. No, the administration does not fear for its existence, its security, or even the loss of its annual gift of $3.1 Billion, no strings attached, from the United States . Rather, its anxiety is growing that it may actually have to negotiate its borders, the continuation of its illegal settlements on Palestinian land, its total control over Gaza , its stranglehold on Jerusalem , before it has eaten all the land, water, and roadways it can digest politically. Israel’s creeping occupation of the land still remaining to the Arab inhabitants of historic Palestine before 1967—just 22% of that area, by the way—is  based on its ability to keep its tactics just below the level of international sensitivity and outrage.

Thus, it is always to its advantage when Palestinians are seen by the rest of the world as causing a violent crisis or confrontation. So, just what is happening now? In January 2006, Palestinians elected its legislators. To just about everyone's surprise the Hamas party gained a clear majority. While a bewildered Hamas—which never believed it would be forced to govern at the present—wandered through the first weeks, and a dazed, defeated Fatah pondered its future, Israel and the United States leaped into action. First Israel announced that it would impound $55 million per month in funds that belong absolutely to the Palestinian government, thus making it impossible for the new Hamas government to pay its workers. Then the United States proclaimed that it would not deal with Hamas in the smallest transaction, imposing draconian restrictions on any entity who worked with Palestinians using U.S. funds. Israel followed these initial steps by refusing to allow Palestinian legislators even to meet in a body. Then they arrested 38 Palestinian legislators and imprisoned them. Those men remain in Israeli prisons to this very day, and they have never been charged with a crime. Then came the harshest step of all: Israel reduced the flow of food and medical supplies into Gaza to a trickle, just large enough to stave off starvation and epidemic. Previous to these actions they had announced to a "grateful" world that Israel had ended its occupation of Gaza , neglecting the tiny detail that its armed forces maintained absolute control over air, land, sea, commerce, and borders of Gaza . It was a more brutal occupation than existed before the so-called "disengagement" of 2005. One Israeli "journalist" had the gall to write in a local newspaper that Palestine had been given a Sovereign State . Some even believed her. Everybody seemed to ignore the injustice inherent in these acts, because the all-powerful mantra of "Security" was chanted every time a question was raised.

My question at this point is a simple, rhetorical one: Is there any doubt that Israel and the United States were consciously pushing the Palestinian people toward civil conflict? They were eminently successful…for a while. For a time there was open warfare. Innocent and guilty people alike suffered mightily. Far too many died. But now that is ending. Fatah and Hamas have agreed on a way to move forward together. Predictably, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice has already voiced her skepticism. Both Israel and its great ally the United States are nervous. The cessation of hostilities means that the specter of internecine violence will no longer provide a ready excuse to avoid substantive negotiations. They are afraid that, as I mentioned above, their tactics may well exceed the world's level of tolerance. People might learn that Hamas is not the only party or entity to claim the whole of historic Palestine for its religion. Nearly a dozen years earlier the Likud Party declared that all of that same land belonged to Israel and the Jewish people. Or people may support the demand that Hamas "recognize" Israel 's right to exist, but they may also make a reciprocal demand that Israel and the United States "recognize" a Hamas-led government as the legitimate, elected representative of the Palestinian people. If there are no scenes of bloody violence the world may seize this moment to demand that negotiations begin in earnest for lasting peace with real justice for all.

All of us can understand when people are afraid. We, as God's people, will stand solidly with them, but we must not, we dare not stand with any who would use the tools of the oppressor to drive away our hopes for peace. Now is the time for all people who see worth in all others to join together in the direction which will result in two states, two peoples, with security and justice and freedom for both.

And yet one thing more: the issues I spoke of above are the kinds of questions that will only be resolved when all sides agree to respect the others and to work together for answers acceptable to all. If I remember my history correctly, that's the way we have always acted when we truly desired peace with justice.

From Jerusalem # 34      18 January 2006

I almost decided not to write anything this month. My thought was that it is best if one is in a positive frame of mind if an effective message is to be communicated. Then I realized it might be a long, long time before I write again if a rosy outlook must be achieved before beginning. So here goes. After all, my aim and pledge is to write, as honestly and objectively as I can, my observations, experiences, and analyses.

It began on the first full day of the group's visit. We were in the village of Jayyous , gazing at the open North Gate in the Separation Barrier that Israel has erected between 70 % of the agricultural land of the Jayyous villagers on one side and their homes on the other. A prominent sign informed us of the hours of opening for those with valid permits—three times a day. [We found out later than only 40 % of the villagers have been granted permits.] Stuck to the sign was a single sheet of paper announcing that the gate openings would be reduced to fifteen minutes, three times per day. The change would be effective in two days.

Let me be perfectly clear. It was a joy and a privilege to welcome the group and to help them gain a sense of the realities in this land of conflict and oppression. Twelve people from the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America [ELCA], under the umbrella of the ELCA's Peace Not Walls strategy for peace in the Middle East , had come to see, to listen, to learn. They are not the source of my feelings, but they are related. And it began in Jayyous. After a brief introduction by the four European women who live in the village as participants in the Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel [EAPPI], we spoke with Abu Azzam, a villager with olive and citrus trees on the "other" side of the barrier. He told us of the hardships the barrier had imposed on him and his neighbors. It was plain to the entire group that there was no security issue with the people there. They were eight kilometers from Israel . The Palestinian West Bank is on both sides of the barrier/wall/fence. Other than the three very young soldiers and their automatic weapons, there were no Israelis in sight—no buildings needing protection, no military installations, no bus stations. Across the barrier, in the "almost-forbidden zone," were only the trees and greenhouses which provide a living for the 3,500 village people…and their town water wells. After concluding with our host that we were not putting him at risk, three of us walked with him and the four Accompaniers to the opening. There we were confronted by the three soldiers. We asked if we could walk with the farmer to see his trees. Following a brief radio conversation with a superior, one of them delivered the message that we could cross only with the officer when he arrived. The officer was coming about 2:00 ; it was now almost 10:30 . We talked with the soldiers briefly. Two of them were friendly and relatively open. Then we returned to where the rest of the group waited. My mood began to darken.

Over the next four and one-half days, we saw as much as we could, and we listened to a number of people. The Israelis we heard were divided in opinion. One spoke of the "illegal immigrants" who had caused so much of the negative living conditions in Jerusalem . I assume he meant the Palestinians from the West Bank who used to enter their city as they chose. Another called the occupation "a terrible sin," but he professed to know nothing of borders—"That's for the politicians." he exclaimed. Yet another Israeli who spoke has dedicated his life to opposing the illegal occupation and Israel 's relentless encroachment into Palestinian land. The Palestinians, on the other hand, were of one voice. Two messages came to us again and again. The first: Over and over they told us that the chance for an independent Palestinian state, living peacefully side-by-side with Israel , is diminishing rapidly. Soon there will so little left to the Palestinian people that a real state will be absolutely impossible. The second: In answer to our queries of what could change things: America! Only our country has the power to alter the course of Israel 's policies…but it lacks the will, I added mentally.

Unfortunately, tragically—choose your favorite adverb—this is not new to those of us who live here. Yet, neither is that realization the source of my dismal mood. As I reflected on the week, I knew what was ahead of the group as they returned to the States and to the church. They will speak with those who are already aware of the pain and suffering here, those who are now faithfully sharing the word. They will attempt to converse with others who simply will be involved neither in efforts to end the injustice nor in a quest for peace with justice. They either feel as if they have neither the time nor the knowledge or that it simply doesn't concern them. But perhaps bleakest of all their prospects are those who simply will refuse to believe what the returnees relate. Either because it all sounds so implausible or even impossible—that our country, committed to freedom and justice, will turn a blind eye to the pain and despair here—or because they fear the ire of some of their countrymen and women, perhaps even close friends and family members. The tragedy is not that there are honest—or even dishonest or uninformed—differences of opinions. The tragedy is that those who live here have so little time. While committees in the U.S. meet and groups engage in dialogue and busy people try to add work on the issues in this place to an already overloaded schedule of demands, the sand is filling the bottom of the hourglass for Israelis, for Palestinians, for all who live and work with them here and who pray for them. Let the Gospel's passion for justice and our own love of "that which is good and right"—not our anxieties and our appointment calendars—drive our days and our deeds.

Call the White House Hot Line today, 202-456-1111. Call Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, 202-647-6575. Call your local Congressional office. They all need to know how much you treasure justice, and how vital the truth is to any settlement. My hope and my prayer is that we will not look back on this day from the marvelous insight of hindsight and sigh, "Would that we had done more."

From Jerusalem # 33      15 December 2006

It was probably thirty years ago. I was just learning how to do basic auto repairs, and I thought I was ready to try to re-line the rear brakes. Everything went very well, or so it seemed, until I got to the last nut, the one which would hold the entire apparatus in place. I must have spent 45 minutes on that one piece, easily as long as the rest of the job. Finally! I had it together. Just at that moment my friend and neighbor happened by. He was also my mentor, teacher, and model for all things mechanical and technical. He glanced at the rear wheel, the scene of my hard-won achievement, and remarked, "You know, you've got that keeper on backwards." Of course! That's why it was so difficult. The sense of total deflation I had in that instant came roaring back last Sunday after worship.

A Lutheran pastor from the States had called the Friday before to ask if I had a few minutes for him to share some of my observations about the conflict and the situation here. He was in Jerusalem with an interfaith group sponsored by a Jewish organization. We agreed that he and I would meet after the service and that any others from the group were also most welcome. At the appointed time we gathered in the chapel. When I talked to the man earlier I had discovered that the group would not go into the West Bank at all, not even into Bethlehem just eight miles from Jerusalem . So I told him and the group that, since they were not getting to talk to Palestinians at all, I would try to give them some of the situation from that perspective. My error was that I did not have the people there introduce themselves, since they only had "a few minutes." It turned out that just two people there were members of the group, seeking to hear what I had to say. The others were a rabbi, an Israeli tour guide, and a staffer from the sponsoring group. As they were leaving, the staffer took me aside to castigate me for not giving a "balanced presentation." "If you were speaking to the groups I work with," he charged, "I could blow you out of the water!" At the same time the rabbi was delivering the same message to my colleague who had spoken briefly to the group at my request.

Again…almost total deflation. I had thought I was doing things in a proper way, filling in some of the blanks that the trip planners either could not or would not deal with. It became readily apparent, however, that they did not want the picture to be complete. They wanted to control all the content to which their guests were exposed. What is so hard for me is that it was the third time this year that I had been drawn into such a venture. I know! I know! You're a slow learner, Russell. But I wish so fervently that people who come here—as well as those who are not able or willing—go home with an understanding that is impossible to obtain from the popular media. I gave this group an example. Just ten days earlier a report by an Israeli concern had revealed that fully 40% of the illegal Israeli settlements in the West Bank are built on confiscated, private Palestinian land. I acknowledged that news of that report did receive prominent coverage in many American and European newspapers. But, if you happened to miss that issue of the paper because you had the flu or had to drop the car off for repair or had a dentist appointment or missed delivery that day, it would be gone the next day. Here the settlement revelation is a truth that virtually everybody lives with all the time, and the news reporting just made it all the more real…and tragic.

My mistake was in trusting that these three groups and, I'm very much afraid, many, many more like them do not want the whole truth. They are brought here with a particular narrative in mind; then the events, sights, and people are arranged to underscore that narrative. Make no mistake! I have a very strong perspective on the situation in the Holy Land , and I hope that others can come to share it, but I refuse to sacrifice the truth on the altar of persuasion. When asked about the capture last summer of Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit who is still being held, I reply that it is absolutely wrong for Palestinian militants to hold him and I pray daily for his release. I then add that I think it is equally wrong that eighteen Palestinian legislators have been held in Israeli prisons since last June, because they are members of Hamas. Neither imprisonment will further the quest for peace with justice, but somehow the rest of the western world only hears much about the soldier. My aim is that you know both, so that you can make up your own mind. When I asked this latest group if they had been to Bethlehem , I knew that they had learned that the Separation Wall/Barrier is done to keep potential bombers and other killers out of Israel . I wanted them also to see with their own eyes how the Wall gouges a gigantic bite out of the town for Jewish, but not Palestinian, access to Rachel's Tomb and permanently cuts off the people of Bethlehem from their crop lands and from the neighboring villages. All this takes place entirely on Palestinian land in the West Bank . One must experience it in person. The magnitude is too large to grasp intellectually. Then one can decide if the barrier is for security or if it is for some other purpose.

Word has spread around the world that the Christian community in the Holy Land is shrinking rapidly because of Muslim pressure and persecution. I believe that is untrue. Of course there are Muslim-Christian incidents, but it is my opinion that the reason for the Christian exodus is simply the Occupation. So many people are deprived of freedom of movement, of education, of medical care, of opportunity that they become so tired and discouraged that they just leave. But I do not want those who come here to take my word for it. On the contrary, I urge them to speak with Palestinians, see for themselves the living conditions, learn the realities, and ask the hard questions. All three of these groups I mentioned earlier had listened to Israelis share their fears and their hopes; I simply want them to hear from others.

So, if you are offered an opportunity to come to the Holy Land , please do consider it. We need more and more of you to come here to see for yourselves. But before you decide, ask what you will see, who you will speak with. Ask for the assurances that you will see all that you need to form an honest opinion. If you are not ready and willing to do that, perhaps it would be more suitable if you were to plan a trip elsewhere.

Peace be with you!

From Jerusalem # 32              15 November 2006

Today is an important day in this place, but I bet you read nothing of it in the New York Times, the Washington Post, the LA Times, the Chicago Tribune, or even the Podunk Gazette. November 15 is Palestine Independence Day. It marks the proclamation of the independent state of Palestine . On this day in 1988 in Algiers the Palestine National Council [PNC] proclaimed that odd mixture of reality plus dream plus hope. On that same day the proclamation was made in front of Al-Aqsa Mosque on the Haram esh-Sharif in Jerusalem following the prayers. Then there must have been something of a muted joy and expectation that the road to peace and nationhood at last lay open before the people. But now… Today the schools were closed, and some local and international offices were also, but that is about it. Probably there were some gatherings, some speeches, some promises around the land today, but I'm certain that they were devoid of real optimism. How can one celebrate independence and nationhood when each day moves those goals further and further from the grasp of the people who would be free? Now it is my guess that those who see things almost exclusively from the Israeli perspective would—were they to read that last sentence--exclaim that the Palestinians could have their nation right now if they would only stop their terrorist tactics and recognize Israel . I would respond, "Then why is it that Israel only engages in acts that blunt any peace efforts and seek to take and control more Palestinian land?"

Those are harsh words, and I wish with all my heart that I did not have to put them to paper, but the tragic fact is that they depict the substance of what I have observed the past three years. Our small congregation is composed primarily of people who have come here to stand and live and work with those of any religion or nationality who sincerely seek a path to peace with justice. When they gather for worship, when they meet in small groups, when they gather at social events for the pure comfort of sharing each other's company, they bring their stories. They talk of children in Gaza who have not slept well for months because of the artillery shells exploding in their neighborhoods and the Israeli fighter jets which fly at super sonic speeds at low levels over their schools. They tell of families in the West Bank who are living in deep poverty because their land and livelihood have been torn from them by the Separation Barrier. The mothers and fathers can understand why Israel may be so afraid of suicide bombers that they want to build this high, high wall and fence, but they are totally at a loss to understand why Israel builds it across the land where their Arab parents and grandparents harvested the olives from their trees back into distant memory. If they are so afraid of the Palestinians, why is the barrier built so that literally tens of thousands of them will be separated from their brother Palestinians, not from Israel . That is, this huge number of people will be on the west side, the Israel side of the barrier. In what seems a scene from the theater of the absurd, these Palestinians now must have Israeli permits to remain in their own West Bank houses. They tell of watching at checkpoints and seeing grandmothers and school kids turned back towards home, just because "No! Go away!" came from the lips of a nineteen-year-old waving an automatic weapon. They tell of the more than 500 checkpoints and barricades within and throughout the Occupied Palestinian Territories . It is bad enough that Palestinian dreams of their own state are receding rapidly into despair. They are not even permitted to travel from town to town, from home to family.

These are the stories that we hear and tell. They are also the stories that you will not hear unless you come hear to hear for yourselves. They are the tales of an illegal Occupation perched on the rim of forty years of infamy. So much of the rest of the world avoids these stories. They say so much of how the West has watched through hooded eyes and listened through stopped ears. If our nations and churches ever acknowledged, even to ourselves, the true nature of the atrocities which are so commonplace here, they would be compelled to demand a halt. So you do not read, do not hear from the media you depend upon for your information.

You may well ask at this point about the actions of some Palestinians. Don't they contribute to the continuation of the conflict? You bet! Today we received the report of one of the homemade Kassam rockets killing a woman and badly injuring a man in the Israeli town of Sderot near the border with Gaza . It was a tragic and frightening happening. And the fact that these rockets rarely do harm does not make it more acceptable in the slightest. But it was also stupid! It may have been in retaliation for the 18 Gazans—including mostly women and children—who  were killed in their beds last week by Israeli tank fire, but it will accomplish nothing but grief for the loved ones of the victims and cries for revenge on the part of many Israelis. Each one of such terrifying acts only adds to the spiral of violence which consumes so much of our humanity. But we cannot lose sight of the sheer imbalance of the circumstances here. The military force of Israel may have been embarrassed by its performance in Lebanon last summer, but it is still a mighty force when compared to the Palestinians who are just about out of resources…and they never had many. It is that force which carries out the occupation and daily humiliates those being held captive.

In closing I do want to return to my earlier speculation. It is my belief, no, my conviction, that were Israel and its strongest unquestioning ally, the United States, to offer a return to the pre-1967 truce lines and offer the rest for a Palestinian state, there would be almost instant acceptance. Sure, there would be a few hotheads shouting for blood and vengeance, just as there are a relatively few Israeli hotheads who now shout, "ALL the land is ours!" These voices would swiftly be engulfed by the waves of relief cascading down from both sides of the borders.

I was braced for the aftermath of last week's elections in the States, but I was still so disappointed. Victorious Democrats fell all over each other to proclaim their loyalty to Israel . Some had thought their victory might carry with it a measure of new hope for the people here. The reality is that this U.S.-Israel alliance is a political one, but not a partisan alliance. I couldn't help but notice how newly elected leaders went out of their way to condemn the views of former President Jimmy Carter as his new book on the conflict here hit the bookstores. Then I remembered two things: First, Carter is the only President in my lifetime who has led with his Christian faith; others merely announced theirs. Second, Carter came here to see for himself, and, having seen, was courageous enough to admit where he had been wrong. Then he set about doing what he can to correct the injustice. Please do not misunderstand. I am not saying that only Christians can work for peace and justice. I am saying that one's convictions and principles, regardless of their source, can never be shoved aside for political gain or for the avoidance of disagreement. That only leads to corruption and injustice.

Feel challenged? Good! Write or call your representatives in Congress, especially the new ones. Tell them to come and see—really see—for themselves. Then call your pastors and bishops. Give them the same message.

Peace be with you!

From Jerusalem # 31  18 October 2006 

How many years has it been? Ten? Fifteen? It doesn’t matter. The entire O.J.Simpson murder fiasco kept Americans and others glued to their TV’s for miniscule details in updates and shreds of information. From the slow-motion chase down a California freeway through the trial and eventual acquittal, it was the lead story on a frighteningly huge number of broadcasts, features, magazines, and newspapers. One memory stands out. In a “town meeting” episode of ABC’s Nightline, Ted Koppel was fielding questions. A man asked Koppel if he agreed that the “media” was responsible for creating the incredible national focus. Koppel readily accepted, on behalf of the industry, a lion’s share of the blame. But then he added words very similar to these, “But let me also say that, if the public stops watching today, the media will cease coverage tomorrow.”

Now let us leap forward those ten or fifteen years. If the American people were to demand the same level of detailed reporting concerning the carnage and conflict in Israel-Palestine that was demanded of the Simpson murders, I guarantee, yes, guarantee, that world opinion would change dramatically.  Most people simply are not aware of the tragedy that passes for normal and ordinary life here. And we who live here are in danger of becoming so used to the daily tales of persecution and propaganda that we are rapidly losing our sense of outrage. But you hear little of it.

For example, the Jewish Holy Days of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Succoth, and Simchat Torah are observed this year at precisely the same time as the Muslim observance of Ramadan. One would expect that extraordinary measures would be taken to insure that people of both faiths could worship freely in their traditions, and they were…to a certain extent. Streets were often closed and traffic diverted, but only for the Palestinians. During Ramadan Muslims fast each day from dawn until sunset. One can only imagine what it must feel like as the end of the day approaches. The breaking of the fast is also done in community, that is to say that families and friends are gathering all over the place to share their first meal of the day. One would think that the police would do what they could to facilitate the flow of traffic in the Arab neighborhoods. One would be dead wrong. On the four busiest days—Friday through Monday—the police closed Sultan Suleiman and Salah ed Din streets, the two most important thoroughfares in Arab East Jerusalem, AND they switched the traffic lights at the nearest intersection to those streets so that they flashed amber in all four directions. You can imagine the jam! Observant Muslims, hungry, trying to reach their homes, were deliberately forced into conditions which made their transits much, much worse than necessary. Then, after the traffic jam had dissipated, police were stationed at the entrances to those streets—far from Jewish neighborhoods—to block any who ventured onto the approaches. My wife Anne and I were headed out to dinner the first Sunday in Ramadan. At the intersection nearest our home we found our way blocked. Drawing on the stubbornness I inherited from my mother's side of the family, I turned right, executed what I describe as a "Palestinian U-Turn," and entered the access lane to the obstructed street. A young officer told me that the road was closed, to which I replied, "We're going to dinner." He seemed unsure what to say next, so he summoned a superior. That officer told us in Hebrew, which the younger man translated into perfect English, "The restaurants are all closed." I simply said, "No, they're open." The next communication to me was, "Then they're only open for Muslims." When I told him that I was certain that they would welcome us, he shrugged and waved us through with a solemn, "Be careful. It's dangerous in there." Three sentences, three lies. But here that's the expected. But you hear little of it.

Reliable estimates put the number in excess of 120,000 people who are now living in the West Bank or trying to return to their homes there whom the Israelis have recently begun turning away at the borders, some of them after decades of unimpeded entry. Even more noteworthy: United States citizens of Palestinian origin are being denied visas, simply because of their ethnic identity. We have a name for this kind of practice, and you know what it is. But you hear little of it.

There are credible stories here every day from items in publications like the U.K.’s Guardian which wrote today that “Doctors in Gaza have reported seeing injuries from Israeli weapons that cause severe burning and leave deep internal wounds, often resulting in amputations or death.” Israel denies using experimental weapons, but offers no explanation for the horrific human damage which has only been seen since this past July. But you hear little of it.

Uri Avnery, an Israeli who is a leading voice for the Gush Shalom [Peace Bloc] movement, writes of the vast humanitarian crisis in Gaza , “Is it possible to force a whole people to submit to foreign occupation by starving it?” You hear that Israel made “painful concessions” when it pulled its settlers from their stolen lands in Gaza, and of the Kassam rockets which do virtually no damage when they land in Israel, and of the infighting between Fatah and Hamas forces, but there is also the terrible suffering and lack of food and medicines brought about by the boycott and blockade by the United States and Israel with the acquiescence of the European Union. But you hear little of it.

I am a diehard, loyal American, and I believe that the people of my country and many others would be horrified at the depth to which the occupiers have descended here. Of course there is wrong on both sides but if they knew the injustice of the occupation, they would be adamant, “There must be peace with justice!” But they are not horrified enough to say to their elected leaders, “Enough!” You just hear too little of what is really going on in this tiny corner of the world.

From Jerusalem #30    15 September 2006

We are back now in Jerusalem, back after more than a month in the States for medical and family matters. One unplanned, but extremely revealing experience spans the time we spent in our two homes: here and there. With all the activities and necessities of our visit in the United States , there were frequently periods of several days during which I was almost totally out of touch with events and conditions here in Israel-Palestine. Obviously we were surrounded by the relayed sights and sounds of the war in Lebanon, but they were mostly of the "Now a look at local weather after this short [commercial] break." variety. In addition such reports overwhelmingly focused on the sensational, that is, those happenings which would, almost without fail, draw the attention of watchers and listeners. As a consequence, I quickly became almost like a typical American, witnessing horror from afar, but having no real connection to the human pain and suffering. It was not because I didn't care. Of course not! But it was all so remote, so surreal, as if I were caught up in a drama which I could end at any moment with a small amount of force on an electronic controller. So many times I turned off the TV, to avoid the terrible spectacle, but the difference was that I could not avoid the images in my heart of all the people I know here for whom there was no respite from the devastation. Therein lies the greatest obstacle to Americans and others rising up to scream NO! to the omnipresent destruction and injustice.

The phrase "Middle East conflict" carries with it such a gigantic package of ideas, preconceptions, history, prejudices, hatreds, and fears that I do not hesitate to state that most people quickly come to believe that they will never understand it at all. Therefore they throw up their hands in frustration and have no idea who or what to believe—either that or they, like one Lutheran pastor I spoke with, retreat to explaining literally everything by making reference to the Holocaust. When I asked him if that would justify the expulsion of hundreds of thousands of people from their lands and homes, he replied, "No, but we have to remember what happened in Germany ." It was obvious that he had no idea of what he was talking about, so he resorted to the one set of facts he had at his disposal. People who have actually experienced the brutality of life in this land are continually and forcefully drawn back to reality by the scenes and the people of despair whose faces and memories will never leave them.

Now we are again in Jerusalem, immersed in the waters of pain, suffering, and injustice. I try, I honestly try to give credence to the underlying rationale the Israeli government gives for its actions, trying to find some modicum of justification for what befalls the people of Palestine and their friends daily. Inevitably and inexorably though I return to the reality that one wish overrides all others: that the nation of Israel control all of historic Palestine with as few of its "other" inhabitants as possible. Obviously, not nearly all Israelis hold this desire. Many thousands are absolutely ready and willing to find the compromises which would enable the two peoples to share this place in peace and harmony as they once did, but it is as if the drive to have all the land has taken on a life of its own. So we awake each day to new but sadly familiar realities which engulf first one family, then one community, than an individual. And we know that talks of truces and Road Maps and cluster bombs and Krytusha rockets serve only as diversions from the awful truth of Occupation without justice. Note…

Bethlehem , birthplace of Jesus, sacred town to three faiths, and neighboring municipality to Jerusalem is now 14% smaller than it was a decade or two ago. I'm not talking of people; I refer to land area. The Wall now extends the boundary of the municipality of Jerusalem all the way into the town, encompassing the site of Rachel's Tomb as well as all the homes, businesses, and land between the two cities. The 14% wedge was originally a corridor which purportedly was to allow safe passage for Jewish pilgrims to Rachel's Tomb. That corridor is now a neighborhood, complete with settlements, high guard towers, and, of course, The Wall. While the world breathes a sigh of relief that the carnage in Lebanon and northern Israel has ceased at least for a while, the blatant "grab" of Palestinian land in the West Bank continues unabated.

Word has reached us of a young friend and colleague from North America who last month was grabbed by Israeli officials at her work in the West Bank, detained and interrogated for 12 hours without even being allowed to call her embassy or obtain legal counsel, informed that she was to be deported immediately, detained for 12 additional hours, and put on a plane for her home country. She was forced to leave without belongings, baggage or bidding good-bye to loved ones here. As far as I can determine, her sole offense was working to alleviate suffering and need in West Bank families.

The main crossing points between Jerusalem and the West Bank have now taken on the aspect of international terminals through which most West Bankers cannot pass. It is apparent to all with eyes to see that it is only a matter of time—perhaps within a year—until the boundary will be all but impregnable, blocking Palestinians from home, family, business, and religion with their compatriots on the other side of the Barrier. Remember, too, that the rest of the world, including the U.S. , still regards the 1967 Israeli annexation of Arab East Jerusalem as blatantly illegal. Thus these "international terminal" crossings are nothing more than massive checkpoints within Palestinian territory.

The economy of Gaza is in collapse, largely due to the fact that, even though Israel pulled out of that area last year, they have allowed almost no goods or services to enter or leave the land. The people are in a virtual prison of oppressive poverty, while the wider world hears only of the internecine fighting there and no mention of the daily Israeli military incursions and mounting Palestinian death toll.

I cannot, for obvious reasons, further identify the persons touched specifically by these atrocities. I can say, however, that our congregation is touched directly by them all.

Unfortunately, much of the rest of the world believes that things are, if not improving, at least not worsening. Sadly, that, too, is an illusion. It is as if by design that the vast majority of incidents do not rise to the level of violence which will engage the moral sensitivities and attention of most of the globe. Our fervent hope is simply that people of good will of every description will say to the leaders of the world that, even if the conflict is ancient and complex and intensely divisive, if we have any sense of decency or morality remaining, we will intervene to halt the bloodshed and force [Yes, I said force.] people to sit down and find a path they can walk together.

People often ask what our church's ministry is like here. My reply is, as always, "pretty much the same as yours, except that every single person I know, meet, or talk to lives and works in the midst of suffering and fear that the rest of the world doesn't seem to see or comprehend." My prayer is that understanding dawns, before it is too late and we say, "We just didn't realize."

Peace be with you!

From Jerusalem # 29 July 13, 2006 

I am proud to be an American, but I am no longer proud of American policy toward democracy and justice. It is with a heavy heart that I write these words, because I know some people in my country will choose to condemn me rather than think about what I write. It is far less taxing to shout than to think critically. I realize that criticism of American policy is often perceived as a threat to our American wealth and comfort.

I am proud to be a Lutheran Christian, but I wonder if my church values the rights and welfare of others enough to put itself on the line. It is marvelous to have thousands of congregations pray for peace, but peace with justice will only come about when millions of the committed people in those congregations demand it from their lawmakers, their pastors, their bishops…when their prayers take the form and shape of a prophetic call to the world.

Gaza is the trigger. Gaza is the catalyst. The suffering and death in Gaza is at the fore of every life here in this land. Yet the tragedy is so much greater than most people at home would ever think possible. All the evidence indicates that the nation and government of Israel are determined to guarantee that the Palestinian people will never have a country able to sustain itself or live interdependently with the world's community of nations. And America is Israel's partner in this endeavor. Only the terminally naïve or the blindly partisan accept the rationale that Israel's re-invasion of Gaza is a response to a very small military operation which resulted in a toll of two Israelis dead and one captured. Ever since the Palestinians elections in January when the Hamas Party won a clear majority in the Palestinian National Assembly, Israel has been harassing, prodding, goading Palestinians to respond: they closed the Karni Crossing for weeks at a time, the only passage for food, fuel, and medical supplies to reach the Gazans and for their products to reach willing customers—thousands of tons of fruits and vegetables rotted at the terminals while pediatric and elderly patients waited in vain for medicines; targeted assassinations resumed, by which I mean helicopter or jet rocket fire at a single vehicle, often in the midst of a crowded, public area; while the world believed that the "disengagement" from Gaza meant at least a limited amount of freedom and self-determination, Israel maintained a death grip on all land, sea, and air traffic into and out of the territory; while the Palestinians in northern Gaza did continue their bombardment of nearby areas of Israel with the now-infamous homemade Kassam rockets which to this date have resulted in exactly zero deaths, Israel retaliated with a rain of deadly shells and missiles which killed combatants and civilians alike.

It then seized on the pretext of the one incursion into its state to wage all-out war on both the combatants and the civilians in Gaza. I do not condone the Palestinian action which left two Israeli men dead and one soldier a captive, but there is no way on earth that that episode justified the bombing of an electric power plant which left one-half the population without electricity! No power means no sewage disposal, no clean water, no cooking, no lights. Nor did it justify the deaths of the Palestinian civilians, including children, who have died from the attacks. The entire operation, right down to the bombing of highway bridges, was a well-planned, well-executed military operation which had virtually nothing to do with the capture of Cpl. Gilad Shalit.

And my country stood by, blessing the entire operation with a smattering of cautionary words about proportionate response while implicitly granting its approval. You see, the truth is that both Israelis and Palestinians, along with all the internationals here, know that America will allow the Israeli administration to do just about anything it wishes. The Palestinians ask me, "Why does Mr. Bush hate us?" The Israelis who have their eyes on all the land just smile. The Israelis who long for peace with justice and often put their lives and reputations on the line sadly shake their heads. My international friends and colleagues just ask a plaintive "Why?" The United States has led the rest of a willing, compliant western world to impose a near-total boycott of the Hamas-led Palestinian government. For better or far worse, the Palestinian people have come to a state of existence in which they are almost totally dependent on outside assistance. Israel has divided the West Bank into a series of disconnected cantons and, in addition, has cut those cantons off from their heart—Jerusalem. With this separation of people from their villages, markets, and greater families, the result of the U.S. cutoff of aid is widespread hunger and deprivation. Please do not think that there is even a hint of exaggeration in these words. The despair is palpable. One recent morning, as my wife and I walked on the primary Arab shopping street in Jerusalem, we noticed that nearly all the shops were shuttered—this on the biggest shopping day of the week. A question to a friend confirmed our thought that this was in protest of Israel's gigantic military incursion into Gaza. It is readily apparent that the merchants were diminishing their own meager incomes to proclaim their solidarity with their sisters and brothers in Gaza. The coffee I was carrying that I thought I must have grew suddenly heavy at the thought of the suffering so close to our home.

For several months now I have been listening to reports of heavy-handed American orders to cease all relief and development projects with Palestinians that were U.S. funded. Citing laws that my country has frequently ignored or circumvented when it suited political objectives, U.S. officials have been very candid that their aim is to bring down the Hamas government. On countless occasions I have been asked why America encourages people in the Middle East to have democratic elections and then condemns their choices when they are not to America's liking. Any response I make sounds hollow even to my ears when it is offered within the reality where it is obvious that America does not really object when ordinary folk must pay the price with their homes, their families, their lives. That is precisely what is happening in Gaza and, by virtue of Israeli actions, in the West Bank.

There is not one iota of support or approval in these lines for terrorist acts, especially the sort than Israel and the United States are accusing Hamas of in their attempt to force the duly-elected government out of power. I fervently believe that there are far better ways to deal with the situation. As we have done on so many other occasions, we can do all in our power to bring the parties to the negotiating table, voice our concerns and differences, and work hard to hammer out agreements and solutions. Because we refuse to do so in this instance sends a clear message to people here: America is far more interested in getting its own way than in justice and peace.

How do I know that message is heard here? People tell me every day!

From Jerusalem #28  June 20, 2006

I just returned from a too-short two-week "vacation" in the States. Even though it did include doctor and dentist visits and necessary shopping, there were also enjoyable days with family and friends. I was met [Anne returns next week.] at the airport by close friends who not only took me to my doorstep, but also supplied me with a few essentials so that a grocery store expedition would not be needed immediately.

Perhaps it was the sheer relief that the end of that long trip always carries with it. Perhaps it was the warmth I felt on arrival and the next morning at church. Perhaps it was simply the familiarity of my surroundings and the hospitality of the community in which we share here. But for some reason I found myself saying to a number of people, "It's good to be back." In spite of the checkpoints spotted on the way home in different locations, in spite of the illegal settler encroachments coming ever closer to our home…and others' homes, in spite of the news of the continuing blockade of funds, food, and medicines that the U.S. and Israel and the European Union have inflicted on the Palestinian people, it did indeed feel good to be back. That bothers me. I had just returned from home where I had locked my passport safely away as soon as I arrived. We were free to go where we wanted without having to explain to a teenager with an M-16 why we were traveling to Bethlehem or Ramallah or wherever. For two weeks we did not have to stand by while friends lost their lands and their homes. We were not inundated daily with front page stories of conflict and suffering and death. And therein lies the reality as well as the contrast.

When one is here, the terrible circumstances of oppression and fear are the omnipresent companions of all of us. When one is away from this place, it is easy to avoid entirely the brutal realities which articulate the boundaries of this land. Do not misunderstand. I do not point my finger in accusation. I do acknowledge the ease with which one can take a different path. I know that I was able to do that easily for two weeks. A shopkeeper and I were discussing the occupation. He remembered our conversation on the topic from the previous January. Then his telephone rang, and I walked out. I went to my next errand while he turned to his next customer. It is quite likely that the matter will not come up for him until I visit his store again in half a year. Is he a "bad" person? Of course not. It is simply that there is little about this land and its people that touches him personally. Even if there were, he could easily convince himself that little can be done. Over and over I hear people issue pronouncements to the effect that the people "over there" have been fighting for so long, they will probably never stop. I might believe that, too, if I weren't here. But I am here, and I cannot gloss over the suffering or the injustice.

I may not be able to change the situation here. I may be limited to standing in solidarity with those who despair that the rest of the world has simply turned its back on them. And if you will listen, I will share with you how they tell me how that makes them feel.

Here I have no choice. I cannot turn away to other matters, no matter how pressing those matters may be. I am compelled to face the truth which comes at me from every direction. I cannot lounge on the sidelines. I must take a stand. And there is something of freedom in that compulsion. It is good to be back. But if I stop there, any other good is undone. I must continue to ask you to stand also beside those who long for peace with justice.

In today's local English-language newspaper there is an article about a visit to Israel/Palestine by a commissioner from the European Union. The article includes her description of a mechanism by which funds can be sent, it is hoped, to Palestinians who are being deprived of food, medicine, fuel, and salaries. These monies will bypass any connections with the elected Hamas officials. It sounds promising, but the item also relates the commissioner's concerns about the plan's implementation. The same article reported that the Israeli Foreign Minister said that her government would "…study the detailed proposal to transfer PA [Palestinian Authority] taxes." I almost screamed at the newspaper, "It's their money! Just give it to them! The people are starving!" I find that my frustration levels rise dramatically when people and nations elevate their political policies above the pain and suffering of women, men, and children. That is precisely what my government and a host of others are doing.

When I write these letters, your faces keep coming to mind. It's almost an involuntary response to my hope that many of you will read them and take them seriously. The thing is—I also know that so many of you are people who believe deeply in justice and fairness. You would never put politics ahead of human need. I hope and pray that you will demand of our President that our nation not do so either. Go ahead. If enough of us do, he will listen!

From Jerusalem #27       15 May  2006

Although I was born several years before the end of the Second World War, I don't remember any of its hardships such as rationing, shortages of commodities, or the tragic loss of family, friends or neighbors. My only actual memory—as distinguished from those that I heard so many times from others that they seemed real to me—was of our efforts to re-cycle "tin" cans. Every time my mother would open a can of corn, peas, applesauce, whatever, she would empty it, carefully wash it, use the can opener to remove the bottom, and then hand it over to my sister or to me—"Whose turn is it?"—and we would crush the can as flat as we could get it. The reason, as I later learned, was that we were saving the metal to be re-used in the war effort. However, I can guarantee you that this "war effort" had absolutely no meaning for me. My meaning was confined to that small act of flattening a tin can, and I never tired of it. In fact it became a part of my understanding of what "normal life" was, and perhaps is, for me. To this day, when I open a metal can, I have a slight urge to empty it and cut the bottom out of it, too. What happened to that multitude of flattened cans that I presume were collected from all over the country? I have no clue. Perhaps they were heaped in huge mounds where they rusted away. Another good idea failing for lack of follow through. Perhaps not. My point is that those things which are done repeatedly by us and to us soon become part of the reality we refer to as "normal."

A normal life here in Jerusalem is one that is so twisted by hatred, greed, and fear, but so accepted by everyone living here, that it is almost a shock to people when they travel away from this land to places where the population actually shares a life which transcends their differences. This does not mean by any stretch of the imagination that those who live here approve, condone, ignore, or justify the conditions under which we live. It does seem to me, however, that the core of existence here has for so long been circumscribed by the domination of one people over another that it is increasingly accepted as "the way things are." So many people lead lives that focus simply on ways to cope with the oppression atop them.

Last year a purple trash receptacle appeared outside the back entrance to our church property. It was an ugly, unneeded, and unwanted intrusion on the scene which quickly became a smelly, filthy, overflowing garbage dump. When we asked the municipality to remove it, we were told that it was impossible. It had been requested by the rabbi of the nearby settler yeshiva. There was nothing the city could do. A yeshiva is a type of school, and this one is about 50 meters from the back wall of the church. It is in the Muslim Quarter. How it got there I don't know, but the city's response made it very clear that their demands far outranked ours. There was no complaint about the receptacle itself; we simply felt that it should be placed on yeshiva grounds, not on church property. A few months ago a friend and I rolled the bin down the way behind the church. It was still on the same walkway, just out of the way of most foot traffic and out from under our office windows. Hours later it was back in the original location. Several more exchanges followed until I happened to meet two students wheeling the garbage back toward the church entry. I stopped them, found that one of them understood English very well, and asked if he would deliver an invitation to dialogue to his rabbi. The next morning I received his reply. The bin was in its original spot, surrounded by at least 100 filled blue trash bags. The message was clear: no talk, no compromise, we will do what we please. The perception of such power is rapidly coming to be accepted as normal.

There is a Muslim man I know. He is one of my favorite people—cheerful, helpful, friendly, gentle. He was absent for a little more than a week from the job he has held for years in Jerusalem. He lives in a village about twelve miles from his work. The authorities refused to give him the permit he needs to travel those few miles. No reason—they just didn't get to it. When he was finally granted permission to return to work, it was for three months only. His sole offense is being Palestinian. Where I get angry in the face of such pettiness and wrong, people who live here usually just shrug. It has become normal.

The bus route which runs through the Old City is # 38. Probably three out of every four times while walking from the parking lot to the church I am passed by a # 38 bus, filled almost entirely with Israelis. I must confess that, more often than not, I breathe a little more easily when the bus is out of sight. Bombs explode sometimes in such buses elsewhere, never in the Old City, but I still recognize the possibility. It has become normal.

Then, in quite the opposite direction, I met with a group of Ecumenical Accompaniers who are leaving after spending two months living with Israelis and Palestinians in an effort both to stand with those under oppression and to seek pathways to peace, justice, and understanding. They are determined to do what they can to bring a perception of "normal" to life here which includes a hope that people can live together, share the land, and respect each other's faiths and their cultures.

And, each Sunday as we gather for worship, I look out at a gathering of folks who spend most of their days seeking ways to provide health care, humanitarian assistance, development support, and education where it is most sorely needed. They are not here because of worldly power or fear or pretensions of religious, cultural, or ethnic superiority. They are here because their common Christian faith and identity moves them to live out the hope they are given through the Christ. That is their norm.

Support them, pray for them, come here to see what they are doing. Come and see what it is like when people of faith, courage, and conviction resolve to reject any idea of "normal" which omits justice for all.

From Jerusalem # 26          19 April 2006, Easter

For just an instant are you able to re-capture your very first mental image or memory of Jerusalem? Mine is easy. It came each Easter Sunday. I’m sure there were some Sally Shop doughnuts in it, along with the usual abundance of chocolate and marshmallow. But what soars in my mind are the heavenly notes of Norma Nell, the soprano soloist at St. John’s Lutheran Church, filling the lily-laden Nave with verse after verse of “The Holy City.” Sermon? Huh?!? Theology? Naw! This (!) was Easter. This was Jerusalem. I wasn’t even aware until years later that the Holy City of which she sang actually encompassed the metamorphosis of the City of David and Jesus into the heavenly vision of Revelation. With spring sunlight cascading through traditional stained glass windows, I was engaged with sight and sound and beauty. My soul and my spirit were both captivated and captured.

It is surprising and a little disturbing how long some childhood fixations suffice and sustain one. This one has been faithful to me in service and understanding for well more than five decades. Even in the toughest of times in this place I have been a trifle startled to hear the powerful chorus emerge from my lips, “Jerusalem! Jerusalem! Lift up your gates and sing…” The words were a tap deep into whatever reservoir of spiritual strength our mothers and fathers in the faith helped mold within us. And I was comforted…and a little hopeful.

Would that I could share with you that the comfort lives on, but it does not.

I was sick this year—a wicked case of the flu—and, for the first time in 42 years, illness kept me from Easter celebration. Fortunately, there are a goodly number of colleagues here, always at the ready. This time it was Pastor Mark Nelson from Minneapolis who has lived with Anne and me since early January and has volunteered to serve in a host of ways. Little did he suspect that his open offer to help “in any way he was needed” would come to a Saturday evening request that he be in full charge on Sunday, but he was more than up to the task!` I was left with few professional responsibilities, save for appropriate utterance of moans and groans whenever anyone was within earshot. So, with the dram of energy remaining to me, I contemplated. I tried to get in the mood by at least thinking of the majestic Holy City, but to no avail. All that would come to mind were the hundreds and hundreds of Palestinians who live in dread of the day when their Jerusalem ID’s will no longer gain them entry to their city. No, they have not moved; Israel has re-drawn the lines, so that they will be outside the city. All that would come to mind is the newly created (T)Zurim Valley State Park. About 400 yards from our flat, the new “park” was a festival attraction for the Jewish Pesach [Passover] holiday which coincides with Easter. In reality it is a wedge driven straight up Mt. Scopus—which is right next to the Mount of Olives—which will give illegal Israeli settlers unfettered access over the mountain into the Jordan Valley. A Pesach flyer hawked the activities one could participate in over the week-long holiday, including a “Crane’s Eye View of Jerusalem…lifting you up to a height of 70 meters…an unforgettable adventure…” A friend noted that the crane ride would show you what your view would be from the top floor of a new five or six-story high rise condo.

All that would come to mind were the thousands of Palestinian voters to whom Israel denied the right to vote last January for the Palestinian Parliament as residents of Arab East Jerusalem, since to do so would acknowledge that they may have some right to continue to live there.

All that would come to mind is that Prime Minister Ehud Olmert is almost certain to add to his governing coalition in the new Knesset a party whose primary platform is to “transfer the Arabs,” a policy known to the rest of the civilized world as ethnic cleansing.

All that would come to mind was the smiling Israeli tour guide who had been traveling with a group of very conservative American Christians for ten days who cheerfully lied in response to my statement about all the settler men who push baby carriages with one hand while caressing the stocks of their automatic weapons with the other. “I’ve been leading groups in the Old City for twelve years, and I have never seen anything like that.” I was impressed with his ability to point out the holy and historic sites while keeping his eyes closed.

Before I conclude, let me say that our Easter and Passover observances were both horribly affected by the suicide bombing in Israel this week. Our hearts go out to the friends and families of the victims of this crime, and I condemn it without reservation. And I include all the victims. The AP item I saw the day of the bombing ended with this sentence: “After learning of the bombing, the Hammads [the bomber’s family] began moving furniture and belongings out of their home, fearing it would be demolished by the Israeli military in reprisal.” But that is not what this letter is about.

It is about the future of Jerusalem. In a matter of a few short years the city that has long been envisaged as the capitol of both Israel and a future Palestinian state will be fully “Israelized.” Cut off from their sisters and brothers in the West Bank and Gaza, those Arab Palestinians who remain, including the diminishing handful of Christians, will finally be forced to choose between third-class “citizenship” and leaving their ancestral homes. Please, please don’t allow yourselves to be sidetracked into a game of blaming Hamas. That party’s electoral victory grandly provided just one more instance of cover and distraction as Israel continues its relentless taking, taking, taking. And my country, and, perhaps, yours, keeps on paying to make it possible.

On a final note, I do remain buoyed by the ongoing support for justice and freedom for all expressed by individuals who write and who visit. I beg you to re-double your efforts, make your voices even louder, and offer your prayers ever more fervently!

From Jerusalem # 25   15 March 2006       
                                                   "Well done, Tom, thou good and faithful servant."

"Why are we here?" We are here to root out all aspects of dehumanization that exists within us. We are here to stand with those being dehumanized by oppressors and stand firm against that dehumanization. We are here to stop people, including ourselves, from dehumanizing any of God's children, no matter how much they dehumanize their own souls.     Written by the late CPT worker Tom Fox the day before he was kidnapped.

People often ask about the congregation in Jerusalem where I serve as pastor. Try as I might, I find it very hard to relate the essence of the community which is known as the English-speaking Congregation of the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer. I am not altogether sure why it is so difficult, but I believe it has something to do with the fact that it is unlike any congregation I have ever been associated with or, for that matter, even known. People from all over the world gather here. For some of them English is not their first language. They come from across the spectrum of Christian groups and denominations, but they never wear their affiliation like an allegiance. There is always exhibited a profound respect and acceptance for the expressions of faith that others bring. Quakers, Anglicans, Lutherans, Catholics, Presbyterians, and a host of others offer their lives in a sharing that fills me with awe. They never come to worship to be seen or to fulfill some sort of holy obligation or as a cultural ritual. We all gather to be strengthened, to hear forgiveness, to be immersed in the grace that so abounds in this place where to seek peace is to move across and against the streams of greed, hatred, enmity, fear, and oppression flowing everywhere.

On most Sundays one or more members of the Christian Peacemaker Teams [CPT] who labor in Israel and Palestine are part of our worshipping body. Even though they are based in Hebron and live in the shadow of constant threat from Israeli settlers whose harassment receives full protection from the Israeli army, they so often make the trip to Jerusalem to worship. And so it was this past Sunday, but with a massive difference. Their brother CPT member, Tom Fox from Clear Brook, VA, had been found in Baghdad two days earlier, murdered, presumably by those who had held him captive since November 26. Still missing, with no word of their condition, are Harmeet Sooden, Jim Loney, and Norman Kember. The way CPT speaks its mission is stated in simple eloquence, "Committed to reducing violence by getting in the way." Those words are followed by the profound question, "What would happen if Christians devoted the same discipline and self-sacrifice to nonviolent peacemaking that armies devote to war?"

Tom Fox was no stranger to this congregation. Many of those who have never met him face-to-face still felt as if they had lost a brother. The communal grief was palpable. But so was an abundance of grace. The Gospel for the day, even though it was from a prescribed list which had been chosen literally years ago, was written for just such a day. From the eighth chapter of the Book of Mark, it held forth Jesus' words, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it." My sermon began this way: "Tom Fox did not die because he was a follower of the Christ. He died because others made the choice—for whatever reason—to end his life. It was, however, his choice that put him in the path of those for whom life has been immeasurable cheapened. In some way which I am not privileged to know, Tom Fox heard the clear description of discipleship that Jesus gave and chose to take up his cross and follow."

When Jesus challenged his disciples, it was becoming increasingly apparent that his path might indeed lead to physical death. And for people like Tom Fox the choice of discipleship leads often to just that end. But it was not in Mr. Fox's death that the witness of his faith appears. It is in his life—when he chose to break loose from all that his culture held out for him…and to set his feet on the servant path where he could seek peace with justice without resorting to the verbal, moral, and physical violence so common around us.

I could not help but contrast that uncommon example of selfless, non-violent witness with the actions of Israel, Great Britain, and the United States yesterday in Jericho. The Israeli Defense Force [IDF] stormed into the Palestinian town of Jericho, staged an all-out attack on the prison there, and laid siege to the partially bulldozed structure until they had in hand those prisoners they sought. The IDF gave as a reason their fears that some of the men held there, never tried or convicted in court, would be released. Possibly they would have been. No one knows. But it was not about the prisoners. It was about a brutal exercise of raw force, designed to demonstrate to the Israeli voting public that the present administration of Prime Minister Ehud Olmert is capable of the kind of violence that we humans continue to pretend provides security. The role of the United States and Great Britain? These two countries had been "monitoring" the imprisonment of the accused men since 2002 as part of an agreement between the Palestinians and the Israelis. The monitoring countries had notified the parties that they were ending their work at the prison because the Palestinians were not carrying out their security responsibilities. However, it defies all belief that the monitors just happened to pull out a mere 30 minutes before the attack. Clearly, there was coordination and, thus, tacit approval to the unnecessary violence. Three guards died in the assault and more were injured. Once more the message is scribed plainly across the face of civilization: If one has the might, one can use that might with impunity, regardless of the cost to be paid by others.

On the day it was announced that Tom Fox had died, it was also announced that Slobodan Milosevic had died. I fully understand that one was a simple Quaker man following the demands of his faith, while the other was a former head of state on trial for war crimes. Yet the contrasting international coverage of the two deaths seemed to reflect our human fascination with violence and war alongside our inability to grasp the greatness of a life offered for others.

From Jerusalem #24   Feb 15, 2006

Have you ever noticed that the thing you say you want is not really what you want?

My country preaches a foreign policy based on "democratizing" peoples all over the world, beginning with those here in the Middle East. Yet what the President truly means is a democratic process which results in the leaders and choices he approves of. The papers yesterday carried articles about what the United States and Israel were doing to undermine the results of the Palestinian vote last month. No, this is not my argument in behalf of any organization which espouses terrorist tactics. It is, however, an observation of the risks inherent in a procedure which seeks "the will of the people." Perhaps people were surprised at the actual results of the elections, but I would be astonished if anyone who has been watching the progress of the illegal Israeli occupation were unaware tha