Worldly Holiness

I was praying/reflecting the other day on what I’m asking people to do as I share the story of my time in the West Bank / Israel. Would love any feedback.

1. Repent of theological or political positions which eclipse the full application of the Abrahamic Covenant to be a blessing to all nations and peoples. See especially Gen. 12:1-3. Isn’t the Good News supposed to be Good News for everybody?

2. Do better Biblical and theological work around: a. The Holy Land in relation to the Kingdom of God, b. An Eschatology that embraces the world, and this region, instead of abandoning it. and c. Answering the question, “who are the chosen people?” in the context of the full Biblical story. What are they chosen for? And who is to be included in the blessing?

3. Exercise fairness, i.e. “principled impartiality” in our dealings with people and issues impacted by activity in the region. No room for Antisemitism, Islamophobia, or forgetting what is happening to the persecuted church [in this case the Palestinian Christian community]. In this vein, we need to correct stereotypes that characterize Palestinians as a violent people bent on the destruction of Israel, or Christians who ask questions about the policies of the Israeli government as anti-semitic.

4. Support, show solidarity for ALL who seek a just peace, including Israeli and Jewish activists. Engage in protective presence, an ethic modeled and taught by Jesus, with the vulnerable. Tell their stories far and wide.

5. Resist injustice. Demonstrate a Christian faith that is genuine in action and deeds as well as mere belief and doctrine. Afterall, as I mention in a book I’m writing, orthodoxy without orthopraxy is heresy. Think about the words of Jesus near the end of Matthew.

6. Come and see. An invitation to take trips to the Holy Land to see, experience and witness Palestinian hospitality and see the consequences of policies which violate international humanitarian law and Christian ethics. [This is where I hope to add a piece to what I'm doing with Mosaics Project].

This is my wish list. I need some time to percolate, mature, improve, add, subtract. Also need to attach little “behaviors” or “things you can do now” to help get traction. In time. In time.

“They don’t let them into the city to meet real Palestinians anymore!” Words shared with me yesterday outside the Nativity Church in Bethlehem from Ahmed. “They are just greedy and selfish.” I’m finishing a 3 month term serving with EAPPI as an Ecumenical Accompanier, providing protective presence to vulnerable communities, monitoring and reporting on the situation at checkpoints, learning about the ramifications of the wall to all sides in the current situation in the West Bank. Have also had the opportunity to visit a settlement and meet with Israeli and Jewish activists who disagree with many of the current policies and strategies of the current Israeli government.

I haven’t entered the typical build-up to Christmas as normally experienced in the US. I’m still in Hebron, just south of Bethlehem by about 20 kilometers, through Dec. 5th. I’m in Bethlehem taking a few needed days off and trying to reflect on what I’ve seen and experienced in my time here. I’m also trying to prepare for Advent. Some of that includes buying gifts for loved ones. But I also want to take advantage of being so close to where it all started–the place of Christ’s birth. There are others here doing the same. Many tourists from around the world make their way to Bethlehem this time of the year, trying to get close to the story of Jesus. But most miss the point.

There is plenty of room in the Bethlehem Inn, or other nice hotels where people camp out before they head over to Manger Square and step through the very low door into the Church of the Nativity. The “door of humility,” a small rectangular entrance to the church, was created in Ottoman times to prevent carts being driven in by looters, and to force even the most important visitor to dismount from his horse as he entered the holy place. The doorway was reduced from an earlier Crusader doorway. The different iterations of the entry can be seen in the stones and refurbished masonry, kind of in reverse of the height charts on your wall at home showing the growth of your children. It appears the door kept getting smaller, making it less penetrable by invading forces.

The tourists today arrive in droves in December. They arrive in beautiful buses, not donkeys. Tour guides shape the story and guide them step by step through a tight script, photo opps, plenty of food, and trips to trinket stores. Wonder what Jesus thinks of all this hubbub. “Those tour guides get a big commission from each stop on the tour. They are all greedy,” continues Ahmed. I went over to the coffee shop next to the Nativity Church for a nice hot cappuccino. Probably something Joseph and Mary didn’t do when they came looking for a place to rest for a night.

So much has happened here in Bethlehem since those humble beginnings. It’s amazing to think that where I stood yesterday, it is reported that 100 Israeli tanks, and snipers, were poised, taking shots at the Nativity church, just a little over 10 years ago during the 2nd intifada. They were trying to capture 200 Palestinian militants who had found refuge in the church. It is reported that tourism took a big hit because of that siege. Wonder why? But now, more than a decade away, the tourism spicket seems to be wide open.

Part of me would like to return home and forget some of what I’ve seen the last few months here in the West Bank. I’d like to have the warm devotional thoughts about advent, and the Christmas story. I’d like to join those tourists on the warm, heated bus. It can hit freezing in December here in Bethlehem. With central heating a rare thing, except for the nicer hotels and tour buses, you feel exposed to the elements. Much like Mary and Joseph, and Jesus of course.

Part of me is emotionally raw, another part angry, because of what I’ve seen and experienced here in the West Bank the last 3 months. The Kingdom of God which Jesus came to inaugurate seems absent still. The operative word is “seems.” The great proclamation that “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us,” [John 1:14] (as we are, not as we wish it would be), assures us that God did in fact enter human history through his incarnation. And he is at work through you and me to give hints of what that Kingdom looks like. I’ve met some courageous Palestinians and Israeli activists these past months. Many keep working for peace, by using non-violent means. They are the leaven in the dough that God seems to be using to move things in the right direction.

This season of Advent, a season of waiting and cultivating hope in the work and presence of Christ among and through us, gives me strength. Our sense of anticipation is heightened looking forward to the day when the lion will lie down with the lamb, death and destruction will be swallowed up, and every tear will be wiped away. Peace in the Middle East, and our extended families and places of service will come in full. Advent captures in microcosm the big picture of Christ’s work of redemption.

Don’t board the tourist bus. Mix it up with the locals. Be agents of the Kingdom, beacons of hope pointing to the key figure of the Advent season where you live and serve Christ this advent. “In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16.

Tags: "Just peace" Bethlehem EAPPI Palestine "Nativity Church" "Andrew E. Larsen"

Our team was almost run over yesterday, but not by a vehicle! It was a pedestrian, an angry Israeli woman bent on sending a message to those of us standing with vulnerable people–in this place mostly Palestinians. When walking on the street or sidewalk, I often yield to others. I’m a big person and don’t want to own the space in front of me. It is a habit I’ve received from my father who is the quintessential gentleman. But today I don’t feel so gentle.

We were a group of four EAs [ecumenical accompaniers] walking toward Checkpoint 56, our main gateway to Shuhada street, the section most in conflict in Hebron. There are army barracks, watch towers, more guns than civilians, a few courageous Palestinians who won’t let go of their land or homes to the encroaching settlers. The school where we provide protective presence is also here. The Ibrahim mosque, that doubles as a synagogue on Saturdays for Jewish Shabbat is also close by. In a normal world, conflict is often a part of everyday life. Somehow this place does not feel normal.

As we were walking the street yesterday, this lady made a tack directly for us, not swinging wide or greeting us or any such thing I expect in a civil society. She did not know us. We do not know her. We were wearing our EAPPI vests. Some see us on the street monitoring movement at the Cordoba school, helping children feel safe. Could that be the source of this woman’s anger? We have been diligent to engage positively Israeli soldiers and a few settlers. We are doing our best to be neutral. As this settler charged toward us she clearly had the look of disgust. She started speaking Hebrew in staccato. Then the word “Auschwitz” came out of her mouth as she nearly knocked over my colleague. I got a tremendous chill, feeling this lady’s hate for us, a group of international visitors she had never met.

I’m finding it hard to bless some of those who apparently think we are the scum of the earth. Today as I was walking the streets in the old city, I looked up to a settler home above the main market street to see two children peering over their roof top perch. The boy was giving me the middle finger.

This morning I was drawn to this passage in The Message:

“If with heart and soul you’re doing good, do you think you can be stopped? Even if you suffer for it, you’re still better off. Don’t give the opposition a second thought. Through thick and thin, keep your hearts at attention, in adoration before Christ, your Master. Be ready to speak up and tell anyone who asks why you’re living the way you are, and always with the utmost courtesy. Keep a clear conscience before God so that when people throw mud at you, none of it will stick. They’ll end up realizing that they’re the ones who need a bath. It’s better to suffer for doing good, if that’s what God wants, than to be punished for doing bad. That’s what Christ did definitively: suffered because of others’ sins, the Righteous One for the unrighteous ones. He went through it all—was put to death and then made alive—to bring us to God.”

Tarqumiya Checkpoint.

Yesterday I had a heartfelt conversation with an IDF soldier at the school checkpoint where I will be serving as “protective presence” for vulnerable children walking to and from school each day. I’m in Hebron in the West Bank to do this for 3 months. In a way the soldier shares a similar mission. We are both players in a larger drama that is tragic, has ruined lives and families, destroyed homes, and continues to threaten the homes and livelihoods of peace loving Palestinians. Before you stop reading this post because of what I just said about peace loving Palestinians, I beg you to listen. The darkness that is cast on this drama in the West Bank is not exclusively confined to one group of people over against the other. I’m trying my best to remain neutral and ask questions and probe to the bottom of statements and stories. So as you follow me on this blog, I promise to do my best NOT to paint with broad strokes or stoke the fires of misunderstanding on either side. This is one of those posts.

My new soldier friend is peace loving. He is frustrated with the conflict, checkpoints, settler communities, and religious zealots. He told me he would like to approach the young children from the school with whom I’m developing a relationship but his gun and uniform are getting in the way. We were both standing in the shade at the bottom of the stairs where the children from the Cordoba school were beginning their walk home. Though initially hidden from sight we must have appeared as giants when we came into view as the children rounded the corner. I was first in line, then the soldier by my side. One by one, they swung wide as they saw the soldier’s gun. Especially the girls. Their expressions told a powerful story, perhaps memories of what has previously happened. I could feel the soldiers angst. He blurted out to me. “I’m not going to use this gun. I see the kids are afraid. I hate it!” One cluster of school boys actually paused when the soldier greeted them in Arabic. We all exchanged a short conversation…“do you speak Arabic,” etc. Then hand shakes were exchanged. Hope began to rise in my heart. Maybe we can build a bridge between conflicted people and rewrite a troubled history. Maybe we can help normalize things. Maybe we can appeal to the human side in each other and make peace.

Last night around 10pm, when it was 2 hours into the dark of night, we got a call. There was a parade of young Israeli settlers who were marching through the neighborhood close to the school. Several of them knocked a door open of a Palestinian family and threw big rocks into their home. They were terrified and wanted us to come and be present. Three from our team [not me this time] quickly left to the scene. Our fears were confirmed.

I’m not sure how to finish this story. I don’t want to quickly provide an answer to my question in the title of this post–“who is the villain in this story?” But it seems clear at this point. My friends did take pictures and we will continue to monitor things this week. We suspect it will be busy. My soldier friend is on the front line. His regiment is charged with the responsibility to protect, but I’m not totally sure how broad his mandate stretches. Pray for peace this week in Hebron please. Literal peace. Pray also for peace of mind and calm hearts. Pray for the children and teachers we are here to serve. And keep posted.

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The Photos in this post–By the way, the picture at the top is from the Tarqumiya checkpoint where I was by 3:30 am yesterday morning. We monitor the passage of Palestinian workers into Israel 2xs a week for their work. About 3000 men cross this checkpoint each morning. Below is the coffee man who helped me stay alert as I counted and greeted and photographed everything. Thomas Stromberg, from Stockholm, my fellow EA did the lion’s share of the counting yesterday.