Tuesday 3 November 2015

Pilgrimage for Peace: meeting the settlers and the settled upon

A new settlement begins with a water tower and a few portakabins.
A very personable Jewish guide joined us for the next few days and began, as a former journalist, with his own fascinating insights into the political situation.  Our first meeting with Israeli settlers on the West Bank was an interesting experience.  Our hosts were all of American origin: the folksy Bruce from New York who was desperate to play his banjo and sing for us, and a family who made us very welcome in their lovely new home.  The only thing that appeared unusual about them is that women wore headscarves and men carried guns, although in my mind this could have had as much to do with being Americans as Jewish settlers.

Despite the shared language, there was a fairly fundamental barrier in understanding between us, in that the settlers honestly believed that everything that they were doing was supported by UN resolutions and they had a legitimate right settle the land.  There was also an expression of wanting to have peace with the “Arabs”, and the well-educated and eloquent children were even considering learning Arabic to facilitate mutual understanding.  However, the sad thing was that they had never even met a Palestinian and had genuine fear about crossing into a Palestinian area, which they considered as impossible because it would be illegal.  Quite how this gap could be bridged was beyond me, when so deeply embedded in their society and justified for their security.
Looking across to Herodian from the Nokdim-Tekoa settlement
Bruce told us about David Rosenfeld, the curator of the Herodian fortification who was savagely murdered in July 1982.  The new settlement of Tekoa had been built/occupied in his memory.  I found this article to give insight to the events at the time.  Suspicion of the Arabs is justified by such events and the reason why settlers carry arms.  However, they also rely on Palestinians to build their homes and expect them to be grateful for the opportunity for employment when there is so little opportunity offered elsewhere, e.g. in the PA controlled areas (where building isn’t allowed!).

The mosque side of the Tombs of the Patriarchs
From there we went Hebron for the afternoon, mainly to see the tombs of the patriarchs, a site which is holy to all three “peoples of the book”.  We all went into the Muslim side, removing our shoes and watching the ladies don their obligatory grey hoody shawls and saw the various tombs and Saladin’s minbar (pulpit).  A few of us then went to the Jewish side, to see the tombs from the other side.

Then, as we gathered afterwards, I wondered across to see what the business cards were that were lying on a large block of stone, and leaned against it to try and read one.  At this point, the young lad who was selling the “Free Palestine” rubber bracelets came over and made a gun with his fingers, said “bang, bang” and pointed at the blood stain by my feet and the guards at the checkpoint a few yards away.  I was immediately shocked and embarrassed that I unknowingly stepped on this blood and so moved away with the card that I was holding, obviously proclaiming another Palestinian martyr.

Wire mesh to prevent injury from H2 area above
We went through that checkpoint into the souk.  As we were some of their only tourist visitors that day, they were desperate but polite in their efforts to sell us something.  We observed the wire mesh above our heads and heard how the city had been divided into areas H1 (Palestinian) & H2 (Israeli), with the Israelis taking the higher level and being, how shall we say… “careless” with bricks and other rubbish which might “fall” on the Palestinians below.  One of the stall holders pleaded with us to tell the outside world what was going on there.

That evening, at the hotel, I soon discovered a video of the incident in the Jerusalem Post website in which a 16 yr old was shot to death, after attacking a guard.  Apparently, he was one of two that day.  So, loads to think about – fear, suspicion, hate, intolerance and how the cycle may be broken.  But, what makes me most sad about this is that, unlike the famed martyr, David Rosenfeld from 33 years ago, I can’t even find the name of the 16yr old youth whose “blood is crying to me from the ground”.

Sadly, the situation in the region is now much worse and there is so little hope in such a one-sided power struggle where the humanity of both the oppressor and the oppressed is being lost so quickly.  What can we do, but pray...

You may like to join me and others in the Sabeel Wave of Prayer for this week (5th November):

“Israel's clamp-down on Hebron, the largest Palestinian city on the West-bank, has intensified. Despair and frustration on the Palestinian side has also intensified, and so has violence, with near-daily deadly confrontations erupting at Israeli army checkpoints and with Jewish settlers who are rarely questioned or held accountable for their violence, leaving the Palestinian community of Hebron fragile. Lord, we ask you to wrap your loving tender arms around the city of Hebron. comfort and strengthen them during this time of difficulty.”  Amen.

Friday 30 October 2015

Pilgrimage for Peace (Part 3a) - setting face towards Jerusalem:

Sunday saw us visit the Anglican Cathedral of St George in Jerusalem to share in their Sunday morning Eucharist followed by coffee in their lovely garden, and then we listened to Jeff Halper from ICAHD (the Israeli Committee Against House Demolition).  He put the final nail in the coffin of any remaining hope for a two state solution, given the numbers of new settlements already established in the occupied territory.

The view from Yad Vashem
That afternoon we visited the Yad Vashem Holocaust Museum, which documented the rise of the Nazis and their increasing scapegoating, dehumanisation, segregation, ghettoising, ethnic cleansing and eventual extermination of the Jews.  So much of what I saw seemed to echo with what we were seeing in the Israeli treatment of the Palestinians, but it seems it too big a leap of imagination for Israelis to see themselves in anything other than the role of the victim.  The further I walked around this shocking spectacle of human misery, the more I felt the sickening irony that similar policies were still being justified in the name of “security”.  The “Never Again” message was clear, but seems to be understood as “Never Again To Us”.  Towards the end of the experience, there was an emphasis on the pockets of resistance that established themselves in the remote forest areas to carry the fight back against the Nazis, and a certain amount of glorification and heroism of their achievements that seems to shape the mindset of all the young Israelis that visit there as part of the National Service.

I came away with the impression that, at some point during the war, Jewish people gave up on God and instead turned to alternative power of military strength that had oppressed them.  The question in the concentration camps of “where is God in this?” is of course a difficult one explored in Elie Wiesel’s book “Night” and also the film “God on Trial” (2008).  As Christians living in the years after Jürgen Moltmann’s “The Crucified God” was published, it is easier - well, less challenging anyway - for us to relate to Isaiah’s ‘suffering servant’ image of the Messiah, and the parallels between Jesus on the cross and the child hanging from the gallows in Auschwitz.  For anyone having a belief which requires God to be all-powerful and unchangeable ...well, they will prefer to look elsewhere.  I guess it was only at theological college that my own concept of God was expanded to allow Him to be God rather than to fit the box that I had created for him, based upon all the “omni-“ words of Greek philosophy.

Mary meets Elizabeth
The mood on the coach was subdued and reflective as we left there and I was relieved to get out again into the hot sunshine at Ein Karem for the walk up the hill to the church commemorating the Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth, before going on to our final hotel, the “Knights’ Palace” in Jerusalem.









View from the city wall
That evening, I thought it was a waste to spend the time in the hotel bar with so much history on the doorstep, so went for a stroll and started exploring, armed with a basic map.  Moving from the Christian quarter, south through the Armenian quarter and onto the old city wall to take in the night-time scene of the (Kidron?) valley below.

The Western Wall with the Dome of the Rock
And so on into the Jewish quarter and my first glimpse of the “Wailing Wall” with the Dome of the Rock on the Temple Mount.  Well, it all seemed quite safe, so I continued walking through checkpoints, nodding at guards who seemed a bit bemused but didn’t object to me going through, so I continued and entered the Muslim quarter and had no problems going into the Temple Mount and walking to the far side to see the view from the wall to the east and to see the inside view of the Golden Gate.  Eventually, as I approached a security post it was clear that I was past the point where normal rules for tourist health and safety had applied, so I retreated from the narrow ledge along the top, having satisfied my adrenaline rush for the day to complete my anti-clockwise circuit back via the Damascus Gate and following the inside of the wall back “home” to the Christian quarter.  Trying to convince a few Palestinian kids that I didn’t need a guide was the main obstacle of the evening!
Inside the Temple complex (almost deserted at night)

Friday 9 October 2015

Pilgrimage for Peace (Part 2b) – Around Bethlehem

OK, a few people have encouraged me to finish this, and the underlying situation in the Holy Land needs to be known, so here goes…
The Shepherds' Fields Church

Our first day in Bethlehem began with a trip to the Shepherds Fields, where we remembered the angels message: “Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people on earth” which we continue to pray today.  The view of the fields was not particularly inspiring, as a recent wall and road across it was the dominant feature.  There were some good murals in the church and the acoustics made our rendition of Silent Night sound quite good.  On leaving, I was lucky to capture this pic of the sun behind the cross, which came out surprisingly well for a phone.

Where BC became AD
I loved the sense of the geography of the place and was very tempted to see how long it would take to run up the hill to the Church of the Nativity, in the footsteps of the shepherds.  Maybe I should have as the queue there was an hour and a half, during which occasionally shuffled forward and I absorbed some of the sense of history by leaning against the columns polished by pilgrims of old.  I was again mildly amused by the Orthodox priest(?) who would occasionally urge the patiently queuing international throng to be quiet out of respect for the location, whilst happily selling his wares of candles and trinkets!  Was the wait worth it?  Actually, yes – despite any scepticism I have about the exact spot, the wonder of God made man is always worth contemplating and I was certainly much closer to the location than ever before; we prolonged our stay down in the little grotto with a prayerful version of “Away in a Manger”.  By the time we came out, lunch was well-overdue, and very welcome in the nearby “Tent” restaurant (again retracing the shepherds path as this was back down the road).

The assault course back to the coach
So, having done the tourist bit, we then had a much more gritty encounter at the Tent of Nations, the ancestral farm owned by the Christian Nasser family and now surrounded by Israeli settlements and under huge pressure to leave.  It was hearing about their plight in an article in the BBC Magazine that first made me want to come on this pilgrimage, and this was definitely a highlight and one of the few rays of hope.  The settlers had done their best to block access to the farm, so we enjoyed a walk up the track to the farm in the sunshine and had an inspiring talk from Daoud about their peaceful legal defence against all the various threats and intimidation against them.  The reality of this hit home when a car full of teenage settlers was waiting at the gate when we left (the road being open from their end), with an automatic weapon clearly on view.  As a Brit, I found this quite shocking, but Daoud calmly spoke to them.

67 years and still waiting - no wonder they
think that UN stands for "United Nothing"
Then, a challenging visit to a UN Refugee Camp, holding the (descendents of) Palestinian families still hoping for the implementation of the UN resolution 194 (from 1948!) giving them the right to return to their homes which they fled the wars of 1948 & 1967.  We heard first-hand from a young man called Shadi about daily life there, of poverty and overcrowding, and the less obvious things like the complete lack of privacy and the psychological effects of this.  Images of martyrs decorated the walls.  Despite their situation, the children played in the streets and followed us around, hoping for some loose change to reward their infectious smiles.  I hope that they remain immune to the despair of their surroundings, but when all your basic rights are denied and you feel powerless, the only option left is to struggle for freedom - it takes an enormous amount of courage and patience to keep this peaceful and I have great admiration for anyone who can do this.  I could not help feeling anger at the injustice of it all…
Amen.

Thursday 11 June 2015

Assisted Dying

Last night’s lecture on Assisted Dying from Bishop Richard (aka Rt Revd Lord Harries of Pentregarth) certainly gave us plenty to think about.

He began by pointing out how much control we already have over our life’s ending, which is a surprising amount:
1. The right to refuse “burdensome” treatment, where it is not doing any good;
2. Advance directives in our will – do not resuscitate under conditions specified;
3. The double-effect of pain-killing drugs which may also shorten life;
4. Good palliative care, as pioneered by Dame Cicely Saunders, although not yet as available as we would hope.
The double-effect came up later in questions in conjunction with the Liverpool Pathway, as it seemed that this was already deemed as “Assisted Dying” to some, and seemed broadly acceptable without a change in the law.

We then heard about the proposed change which is based upon Oregon’s law, via Lord Falconer, to the current Private Members Bill by Bob Marris.  This would cover remarkably few of the cases which promote the cause for assisted suicide in the media as the bill requires a life expectancy of <6 months (although, as was pointed out, the phrase “You only have 6 months to live” is often way too pessimistic, presumably because doctors want to give the worse-case scenario otherwise people will feel short-changed).

The discussion about the proposed legislation will revolve around the safeguards and whether it is better for doctors (how many) and/or the law courts to make the final decision and who is then the ultimate authority rather than just the rubber stamp.  However, the real question is whether it is even possible to give the right to die to some without also creating a duty to die for others – and this is why Christians take a stand for those who may feel pressurised to end their lives prematurely.  It is easy to imagine a scenario where elderly relatives don’t want to be a burden on their descendants, despite whatever assurances the family try to give. This would be very different from the current situation where the occasional Dignitas death takes place but is not deemed to be prosecutable by the DPP as the families motives were purely compassionate in going along with the express wishes of the suicide “victim”.

Perhaps an issue where I didn’t find a suitable answer was in response to the statement “You wouldn’t treat a dog like that!”, i.e. we would call the vet to put it out of its misery.  I guess that depends how much you love the dog and what financial resources you have.  Even where expense is not an issue, there are still cases where the “humane” thing to do is a lethal injection, and the motive is because we love our pets, so is this really that different to humans?  Expense should not be an issue in deciding the value of a human life, but could be a prime motivator if Assisted Dying becomes an option for the increasing numbers in very expensive care homes.  And this is where the slippery slope comes in, as the current bill would not apply for non-fatal conditions such as dementia: once mental capacity is lost, then the principle of assisted dying could be extended to euthanasia (the next step as already taken in the Netherlands).

We certainly covered the politics, but what about the theology?  This came towards the end, with the Christian understanding of life as a sacred gift in which our human identity is defined more by our relationships, i.e. the African Ubuntu philosophy of “I am because we are” rather than our enlightened Western emphasis of individual rights and Descartes “I think, therefore I am” (could this be a new catch phrase for the pro-euthanasia lobby?).  The first question from our audience was WWJD (that's "What Would Jesus Do? for non wristband wearers!) if the option of miraculous healing wasn’t available to him – the answer is demonstrated by the current ‘body of Christ’ pioneering and supporting palliative care: Christ-like compassion results in Care not Killing.

But, is that the only Christian response?  It seems odd at times that those of us who believe in life after death should argue so strongly for allowing the life to continue until its natural end.  I was reminded of this video interview of Bishop Richard by Richard Dawkins, where they reach a similar conclusion (scroll to 9 mins if you can’t wait).  Whilst our death cannot achieve anything like the unique sacrifice of Christ and we should not wish it away, our Christian hope is that it is not the end.  That is the context in which we as Christians can face death, and suffering.  As Paul wrote to the believers in Philippi:
For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labour for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know!  I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.

Monday 25 May 2015

Pilgrimage for Peace: Part 2a - To Bethlehem



The Friday of the Pilgrimage saw us in the coach driving south past Mt Tabor through the West Bank to Nablus.  Passing through our first military checkpoint and having to put our cameras away led to a sense of foreboding, but any fears were soon dismissed by an unscheduled comfort break at a petrol station and the welcome from the friendly locals offering coffee.  We heard all about the different zones: A (under the Palestinian Authority), B (PA have civil control & shared security control) & C (full Israeli control, leaving just education and health to PA).  We quickly learned to recognise the Palestinian areas from the water tanks on the roofs, essential as their water supplies could be quite intermittent, as opposed to the Israeli settlement areas where no such contingency seemed necessary.  Indeed, it became clear that control of the water supply would be another bone of contention standing in the way of a two-state solution.


The only real investment on the Palestinian areas was the occasional new mosque, at huge expense from a Muslim neighbour, but in surroundings of such poverty that street cleaning, education and health care seemed to be a more pressing need.  We would also spot sporadic signs indicating Western charitable investment, but the basic infrastructure (water, electricity and roads) had not changed since Jordanian rule in 1967.  Why?  Palestinian development had to be approved by Israel and unauthorised developments would face demolition.

After quite a long journey in the coach, we were glad to disembark at Nablus, formerly Sychar, to seek the relative oasis of Jacob’s Well.  This was one of the highlights of the pilgrimage for me, perhaps because this was off the normal tourist trail.  The practicality of lowering the galvanised metal bucket to raise cool fresh water which we all drank meant that we were living the story of Jesus meeting the Samaritan woman at the well, both physically and spiritually.  After a short act of worship, which included a most moving rendition “I heard the voice of Jesus say”, I managed to sneak back down to the now unlit “grotto” for my own sit down by the well.

Then, it was a short journey to St Philip’s Church to be met by Fr Ibrahim Nairouz to see the church being redecorated, to hear about St Philip’s mission there (both in Acts 8 and today) and then to enjoy a wonderful lunch prepared by members of the congregation.  It was great to be able to support them in their work by offering the going rate for such a feast.

Our last stop that day was at Taybeh, once a city near the wilderness called Ephraim where Jesus took refuge after bringing Lazarus back from the dead (John 11:54) and now the only remaining Christian community on the West Bank.  By the church, a traditional dwelling house has been preserved and its layout makes more sense of the nativity story, with the separate spaces for animals below.  Unfortunately, we didn’t stop at the brewery, but I was pleased to know that I had already been supporting this aspect of the local Christian economy.

Having driven past Jerusalem’s walls, and passing back through yet another checkpoint, we eventually arrived at our hotel in Bethlehem, right next door to the Church of the Nativity.  Having a little free time, I popped next door that evening to get a feel for the atmosphere among the long queue of international pilgrims.  I was approached by an Orthodox priest and ready to greet him, only to discover he was only interested in teaching me that crossing my legs was not correct etiquette!  As ecumenical exchanges go, this was a disappointment.  With Andrew, a fellow priest from Wales, we wondered around the surrounding streets of Bethlehem, which quickly became quite oppressive and depressing as we tried to decline the goods on offer for some increasingly desperate sellers.  Once back in the tourist area, where conversation was easier, an extended discussion with “John” (one of the few remaining local Christians) and another with the Bedouin-son owner of the (not quite!) Starbucks made us aware of how bad business was, but also how few other options they had open to them, not least because of the travel restrictions resulting in the sense of imprisonment.

I was beginning to feel the frustration and helplessness of the Palestinians, but trying hard to remain impartial, knowing that we had yet to hear the other side of the story.  The peace of Galilee from that same morning felt a long way away, but as a follower of Jesus, we too had to set our face towards Jerusalem and find our hope in Him.  As I took in the view over the Manger Square from the hotel (there was a room!) and sniffed the cool breeze, I was reminded how this "little town" had previously known that same sense of occupation, resentment and struggle against a much stronger and dominant regime.  So much for a "deep and dreamless sleep", there was a lot to process here...

Wednesday 13 May 2015

Pilgrimage for Peace: Part 1 - Galilee


"So, did you enjoy your pilgrimage?", people ask.  How to respond?

Well, yes, certainly some bits were enjoyable, although others were disturbing.  It started well at 4.15am on Tuesday to discover that my taxi driver, Max, was a local Pentecostal preacher so we had a good conversation about prayer styles and sermon lengths which was a shame to end when we arrived at Luton!  Then a good flight out with morning shadows over the Alps, and eventually arriving in the early evening (having lost 2 hours across time zones) at the lovely Pilgerhaus Hotel on the shore of Lake Galilee, to meet the rest of our fine group of pilgrims.

Lake Galilee is wonderful, whether:
1)      on it - in a boat (no walking!) on which we sang “Dear Lord and Father of mankind”, starting the week by acknowledging our own faults and the British involvement in the area, e.g. the Balfour Declaration, (perhaps an apology is due in 2017?); this was a healthy tonic after the boat operator had insisted on playing our National Anthem – we had already counted so many Israeli flags on the way from the airport that we could have done without further reinforcement of national stereotypes blasting from the loudspeakers out over the waters, in contrast to the still, small voice of calm that we were seeking.

2)      in it - for a refreshing swim, including a chat with a long-distance hiker from Denmark which we continued over dinner about the spiritual power of places, which reminded me of old OS maps, tumuli, ley lines and dowsing;
 
3)      on the shores – including:
                                 i.            a Eucharist near the Church of the Multiplication of the Boy’s Picnic, and great to receive Bishop John’s familiar invitation, “Come to this table, not because you must but because you may…”
                               ii.            time at the Church of the Primacy of Peter – beach mission, Catholic style… an authentic feel here with very old steps leading down to the beach – could almost smell the broiled fish!

                              iii.            the archaeological remains of Capernaum and a later synagogue – didn’t really do it for me, too touristy, so much better later that evening on my 7 mile run around the northern shore (my own prayer space!);








                              iv.            the Church of the Beatitudes – an early morning visit after a rain shower with great views, not least of the Horns of Hattin, which I had only known from Microsoft’s “Age of Empires” game.  It was good to be reminded that “Blessed are the Peacemakers”, before we left for Nablus via the Jezreel Valley.


4)      or for Trips out, with a sense of returning back to the disciples’ home/base camp, from places such as:
                                 i.            Banias, in the disputed Golan Heights – name comes from the god Pan’s grotto/cave, but Arabic has no ‘P’ so became ‘B’an instead… but in the Bible Caesarea Philippi was here by the pure spring which feeds the Jordan where we renewed our baptism vows.  Looking at the caves and hearing of the Jews fear of sea and water, we understood Jesus reference to the “gates of Hades” not overcoming the rock, after Peter’s declaration (Matt 16:13-18).  Such explanations from our brilliant story-telling guide, Hani, made me realise why people call such a pilgrimage the “5th Gospel”.  Anyway, I now have a bottle of this pure Jordan spring water (rather than the mucky stuff further down) which I hope to add to the next few baptisms I take, as long as no-one drinks it first…




                               ii.            Haifa, where we met Hatem, the Palestinian Anglican priest and his wife and heard a bit about their award winning Church School and its Peace Studies program.  It felt great to be in an ordinary church, where the attraction is the “living stones” rather than those inert, geological varieties with their claims to great events of the past - we had also visited a church which claimed to be on the site of Elijah’s cave on Mt Carmel, but as with many of these over-done pilgrimage sites, it didn’t really work for me with by low church upbringing.     
On a more positive note, the views over Haifa were superb, and, as an aircraft spotter, I didn’t mind the Israeli Independence Day fly past of several waves of jet fighters – these are not the sort of weapons that they use against people living in “their” land.  Interestingly, as we looked down on Haifa’s submarine museum, we would hear that Germany had “donated”(?) another nuclear sub to Israel during our visit – I wonder whether this is some strange manifestation of guilt for the Holocaust, but as this article suggests, the tide may be turning in Europe, especially since last year’s Gaza statistics…
                              iii.            In Nazareth, we met Mohammad Zeidan, the General Director of the Arab Association for Human Rights.  He represented the many non-Jews who have always lived in Israel (pre-1948), as opposed to the later occupied territories, but without the same rights that we would expect.  Sadly, I didn’t detect much hope here and came away feeling frustrated – a 2 state solution which we promote from afar wouldn’t improve the lot of the native Arab/Palestinian people, and why should they be ethnically cleansed from Israel to make it a purely Jewish nation – that’s about as welcome as asking the many Jewish settlers to give up their new homes on the West Bank.  Time for a reality check for our politicians, because while we and the UN do nothing to enforce resolutions, the settlers continue in the race to carve up the West Bank and the Palestinians are… hmm, how shall we say this… “encouraged to emigrate”.
Part 2 (Bethlehem) to follow in a while…