Holy Land Reflection

18 people, 10 days, 5 planes, several bus rides, countless meals of pita and hummus, and bottles of Lemon-mint Juice….. $$$ and Shekels (Palestinian/Israeli currency). 

Meeting the Living Stones of Palestine, and walking (sometimes running) where Jesus walked…. Priceless.​

I'm sitting here, the day after our whirlwind of a trip, trying to find the "right" words to say to begin to describe what I'm feeling right now, but I honestly can't. I thought that maybe after a good nights sleep I would wake up refreshed and with all the answers to my questions- HA! When my family asked me how my week was, all I could find to say was "It was great!" I guess you could say that the process of processing a trip such as this is a little bit longer than a week. 

I want to go back. I want to go back and talk more with the "Living Stones" we encountered and to meet even more. I want to continue to grow in my understanding of this conflict and of the people of Palestine. But more than anything, I want others to feel what I'm feeling; I want them to have a taste like I did, of the injustices and heartbreaking images in Israel and Palestine. 

Last summer during my People in Mission internship, Carla Leaf told us that our hearts would be broken apart in our work- but in a good way. She explained that the people we met and the experiences we had would open our eyes and hearts to the injustices in and around Charlotte, and challenged us to fill those new spaces in our hearts with good; such as sharing what we saw, furthering our work, and being more aware of what was around us. I found myself coming back to this image many times this week as we encountered the injustices in Palestine and Israel. My heart was absolutely broken apart just looking at the Separation Wall, bullet holes on homes in the refugee camps, and the outcries of the graffiti art on walls. The Pope ironically visited Palestine the weekend we left the Holy Land, and there is currently an article on his trip to the Separation Wall right outside the Aida Refugee Camp that we visited. When we saw the wall, someone was painting over all the graffiti, and according to the article, it was to hide the words, outcries, and artwork of the Palestinians and to create a more uniform image of the wall for the Pope. I'm glad we were able to see the honest words of the people; it showed the emotions ranging from rage, frustration, and despair, to hope and peace. 

As I mentioned last week in my blog post, the rock that I pulled out of the bag at the start of the trip was labeled "Love." "Love your neighbor as yourself." This is one of the commandments God gave us. Going through this week as I thought about the rock I picked, I couldn't help but question how some people don't understand this. To me, love is a way of living. Love is friendship, a community, a smile,  a hug. Love doesn't discriminate among race, religion, ethnicity, gender, or geographic location. I felt the love of our team as we gathered for devotions every night trying to make sense of it all and when we laughed so hard we almost cried at whatever witty comment Maggie Whitley had to make. But I also felt the love of Palestinians from the moment we arrived in Bethlehem. As you may have read, we stayed with students our first night, and I wound up in Ramallah which was an hour and thirty minute drive due to checkpoints, and the separation wall; a trip that would only take fifteen minutes without checkpoints and barriers. Immediately, Dustin and I were welcomed into the home of a complete stranger, fed a wonderful meal, and offered a warm bed to sleep in. This hospitality is God's love and God is Love. This Godly love is called "agape," and should be a way of living. Maybe it's foolish to think that we could one day live in a world where everyone loves each other, but I think breaking down walls and barriers is a good start. 

We don't have answers. In fact, I think it's safe to say that we all have a lot more questions. What we do have though, is a taste of what's going on and the stories of the Living Stones. So when you see us (the members of the trip) ask us how the trip was, ask us to share a story, ask us about our favorite part, ask us to sit and talk with you. The best thing we can do now is share the stories of the Living Stones in the Holy Land and continue to pray for peace in Palestine and hope for a better future where Palestinians and Israelis can live side by side, hand in hand, without walls, checkpoints, and guns.  

Jordan Schriefer

A New Kind Of Sacred

This afternoon, we drove through East Jerusalem – the complicated part where sidewalks end suddenly, Shel Silverstein style. Where rich consults inhabit apartment buildings mere blocks away from the unkempt homes of alienated refugees. The separation wall cuts through it all, a knife decorated with the dizzying art of the voiceless.

Mohammed, our godsend of a bus driver, got us high up in the midst of this settlement and as he did a killer three point turn, one piece of graffiti shouted out. It was no Banksy, just black spray paint in a slanted hand, but its message touched me somewhere deep, somewhere raw. The dirt whispers I’m coming home.

The dirt, the soil of the Holy Land, is alive with courage. It is stirring and I am thankful for its movement. So thankful.

Our trip has been a pilgrimage of sorts and intermingling with peacemakers’ reflections are the sites we’ve toured. The manger, the Mount of Temptation, Capernaum, Joseph’s carpentry shop: these scenes of Biblical profundity actually made me cringe. They have been underwhelming, almost marring my imagination’s ideas of Biblical times.

I am grateful that God is not contained in artificial recreations of the nativity. I am grateful that his voice echoes throughout all creation, not just in solemn shrines where incense burns. I respect the sanctity of the sites but my heart has found joy through encounters with God’s children. I have felt most fulfilled watching God reveal himself through the personal histories of the oppressed. In each cup of Arabic coffee has been the selflessness of Jesus. In every vulnerable insight has been a glimmer of his wisdom.

This Holy Land cast of characters is realer to me than Zacchaeus in his sycamore tree, which now stands at the end of a row of tired souvenir shops. Have we come to idolize the pilgrimage spots, worshipping them out of religious duty instead of walking a faith filled journey inspired by the stories’ heroes?

The only site where I truly saw God unadulterated and pure was the Sea of Galilee. Floating on still waters, observed only by the rambling hills, God was clearly engrained in the land. For one cherished moment, everything was quiet and I felt him. And then music started to play and our Israeli boat crew tugged at my hands and taught us to dance. So we sailed back to the harbor laughing and singing and dancing.

It was a new kind of sacred, a kind formed by community.

Tonight, during our team debrief, Will White commented so astutely:”It says something about humanity that the holiest place on earth is the most messed up.”

Maybe anger boiled within me at the other sites because each gilded chair and bronze statue seemed like a mockery of God. But who can blame the masses for clamoring and becoming intoxicated with the past when the present is tumultuous?

Is really seeing the Holy Land with its bruises and dividing walls too painful? Quite possibly.

I am definitely ready to rest my eyes. I’ll rest them but not close them. The dirt whispers I’m coming home, and I want to be there celebrating when peace rains down again.

Amy Bareham

Holy Land Holy People Reflections

Sitting in the charlotte airport, we have our first devotion...Suzanne read some scripture, we talked (briefly) about the purpose of our journey, and Carla pulled out a bag of rocks with words written on them. I sat, somewhat half listening, passed the bag and took a rock when it came my way.  My first thought, what a typical “churchy” thing before we leave our hometown. Then again, this trip was with a church group and to tour and visit the Holy Land.  The purpose of these rocks was to remember our word through out our trip and apply it to what we will be learning...again, typical.  However, just as you have read each day and we have experienced each day in this Holy Land, it was not just a churchy thing or just a tour.

The term "living stones" (heard all week long) are the people we met with, the people who offered their homes, the people who talked and shared, the people who fed us, the people who fight. The living stones in action.

Maggie Whitely said at one point, "man, these people sure know what they're doing with these stones!" And yes, they do! The immense amount of buildings, homes, churches, and rocks that form the foundation of this land are breathtaking. But the Living stones support this place and make it what we call a Holy Land.

We defined this simply as #holylandholypeople in our many Instagrams and Facebook posts this week. It is a holy land we toured and walked along the same steps that Jesus walked thousands of years ago. But it is the holy people we met and shared meals with that are acting in Jesus's footsteps.

Today we walked the same path that Jesus did centuries ago.  Starting at a Jewish cemetery on the Mt. of Olives, we walked the Palm Sunday road curving and winding down a steep hill to the Garden of Gethsemane and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.  This trail, the same walk to Christ’s Crucifixion, and the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus came to pray, is a surreal and beautiful place of Jerusalem.  Even with the unnerving amount of tourists and hustle and bustle of this area, it was defined to me as one of the most peaceful places we visited this week.  Sitting in side the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the immaculate beauty and amazing architecture was overwhelmingly calming.  To sit inside such a beautiful place and to see the gorgeous flowers and huge olive trees in the garden was a reminder of what Christ did for his people and the magnificence that came out of it. 

Yet again, another reminder that the Holy Land can be peaceful.  It will take the living stones to see the potential of this wonderful place and to fight for their visions.

After a powerful Communion in the Garden, we loaded up on the bus and walked through the Old City of Jerusalem.  Inside the walls of the Old City protruded culture and life of Jerusalem.  Food venders, markets, children and parents, sellers, buyers, tourists, and neighbors moved around each other in the mid day heat.  We were able to discover our haggling abilities, eat falafel’s, and find some souvenirs.  Within the walls of the Old City we also visited the Western Wall, or as some people know it, the Wailing Wall.  This is Judaism’s holiest site as it was part of the retaining wall of the Temple Mount and built by Herod the Great.  Being here on the day of Sabbath, we got to see people come here from all over, near and far, and pray at this wall and leave prayers in the cracks of stones.

After a powerful morning in Jerusalem, it was time to head to Joppa and Tel Aviv.  Here we ended the trip with seeing the Mediterranean Sea.  As someone who loves water and finds the peace in moving streams and crashing oceans, this was a great mind relaxer to cap the trip.  We sat atop the rocks and watched the blue water move in motion and had fun and relaxed conversation.  Tel Aviv and the many airports and airplanes, however, started to call our names and it was time to start the journey back home. 

My rock, rather stone, had the word hope. In a place of such despair and continuing enforcement of unjust laws, how can these people keep hope? We asked so many people this same question but in return we had answers of optimism and patience. They know in their hearts and in their future will come a day that everyone on this land can live and love together. It seems as though the faith is oozing out from the physical foundation and pouring into the souls of these living stones. Today was a great reminder of what these people are continuing to support: the Holy Land and the Holy People that live here.  It is our job to share their stories and to remind people of Christ’s word.

Emily Hamilton

Holy Land Holy People: Transitions

Transitions

"We must all learn to live together as brothers [and sisters] or we will all perish together as fools. We are tied together in the single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality. And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. For some strange reason I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. And you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be. This is the way God’s universe is made."

These oft-quoted lines from Martin Luther King, Jr., awaited me in my inbox this morning, as I awoke after a good sleep in my own bed. They capture, for me, the heart of the human social condition, and they prescribe the cure for what ails the Holy Land today. Day after day, we witnessed first-hand the troubles caused by a deliberate strategy of separation, a strategy promoted for "security reasons" and undercutting any "network of mutuality" at every turn.

Perhaps this grew clearest to me on our last night, as we walked through the market in Jaffa (Joppo), a suburb of Tel Aviv. Jaffa is a Palestinian town on the Mediterranean coast where Israeli Jews now live as well. And while I have no doubt that there's underlying social friction--the Palestinian Israelis are, after all, designated as "02" citizens--what we witnessed in the market place gave me hope: Muslim families enjoying the sea-side walk; Jewish couples walking hand in hand; Palestinian women who wore no veil (thus either Christians or secular/liberal Muslims) shopping together. People, just people, living "together as brothers [and sisters]... the way God's universe is made."

In a sense, our time in Jaffa gave the lie to the "inevitability" of violent conflict between Palestinians and Jewish Israelis. As we've heard over and over from the friends we met, Jews, Christians, and Muslims lived together in the Holy Land for centuries, only clashing as a society when a powerful outside force (Crusaders, various Muslim conquerors) imposed distinction. Jaffa offered, in living color, a reminder that it doesn't have to be that way.

But our brief time in Jaffa also humbled me. I found myself convinced that, if I were an Israeli Jew in Jaffa, I would likely remain blissfully unaware of the occupation and its injustice. I would fall into the human trap of distinguishing between the Palestinians in my own neighborhood and those in the refugee camps. These, I'd think, are the peaceful ones who have no problem with the "state of Israel." Those, I might think, just want to destroy us; I might think that they need to be contained, restrained, and even removed at any cost, "for security reasons."

And yet, it was in Jaffa that I saw my first overt social critique of the occupation. Even within our one-hour stay, we wandered into a photography exhibit of "War Through the Eyes of Its Victims," including poignant images of children in Gaza. Our stroll took us past several placards challenging the justice of the separation wall and its implications for human beings. I don't know which "side" was responsible for either "protest," but that, in itself, may be the most hopeful sign. There was no distinction, only the hope that presses toward what King calls "God's universe."

On the "day after," I'm clinging to that hope, if even by a thread. In the comfort of my own home, after a decent sleep in my own bed, I'm wondering how not to lose the deep sense that my own well-being is somehow tied up with the well-being of my Palestinian friends, of the settlers and soldiers who haunt and harass them, of the Israeli Jews who find such deep, almost inexpressible, peace in Jerusalem the Golden, of my neighbors back in Charlotte--the ones I hold close and the ones from whom I've accepted the "separation" our own society promotes. May I become more what "I ought to be" in a way that helps them do so as well. May we together inhabit "God's universe" not as fools but as brothers and sisters who lay claim to our "network of mutuality." May we thus share the life abundant promised by Jesus so long ago. Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Suzanne Henderson

Holy Land Holy People Day 8

Yet another day passes in the Holy Land. Sadly, the trip does not feel like it should be ending. There is still so much to explore, so many people to speak to, and so much to consider. That being said, the trip has affected us unexpectedly and profoundly. As other students may have noted, the sights and experiences of this trip have left our group emotionally confused and distraught. Today was no different as we toured Jerusalem.

First, we visited the archeological site of the City of David. While the site was very old and rooted in history, the excavation was particularly significant because of its modern political importance. Israelis believe that this excavation further reinforces the validity of Zionism, as this land has been claimed by the Israeli State since the time of David. Interestingly, the site was filled with birthright groups, all full of innocent zeal and possibly misguided pride for Israel.

Next, we spent the rest of our morning at the Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum in Jerusalem. For all of our group, it was difficult to articulate our feelings about the powerful exhibits and depressing images throughout the museum. Yad Vashem was thorough to a saddening extend. Jews were not just ruthlessly killed by the Nazis, but rejected all over Europe and in the Americas. Perhaps this rejection justifies why the Israeli State seems to live in constant fear. Jews have never had a permanent place to call their own and must be horrified at the thought of losing their nation in their sacred land.

After yet another delicious lunch, it came time to say goodbye to Ibrahim, our tour guide since we first arrived in Tel Aviv. While Ibrahim was not the most exciting man (and his 5 30 wake up calls at the hotel will always be held against him), he held a deep passion for his homeland and sensed our own group’s never ending and always conflicting emotions. Fortunately, we met with Yahav, an Israeli man from Jerusalem who guided us through Israel for the rest of the day.

Yahav first brought us to what seemed to be a beautiful overlook of the city of Jerusalem. Yet Zahav felt differently. He quickly noted the differences that became gradually more clear between West Jerusalem and East Jerusalem. West Jerusalem was filled with primarily Jewish neighborhoods while East Jerusalem was predominantly Palestinian. This is due to the Six-Day War of 1967, in which Israeli occupied East Jerusalem was well as the rest of the West Bank and Gaza. The Palestinian part of Jerusalem was annexed by Israel because of the importance of Jerusalem as a holy city. Yet the rest of the West Bank was simply occupied, with settlements now sprouting up at a rapid rate. The Palestinians rejected Israeli citizenship (preferring Jordanian citizenship) but had Israeli identifications

Discrimination was obvious between West and East Jerusalem. West Jerusalem almost had the look of a modern European city, with a strong infrastructure while cranes continued to build new buildings. While West Jerusalem was full of parks and roads, East Jerusalem lacked investment and the modernization of the other half of this city. The Palestinians did not have equal opportunity to education, clean water and healthcare and the difference was clear as we drove through East Jerusalem. Zahav revealed to the group that about 10% of the city spending went to East Jerusalem (where 40% of the population lives) while West Jerusalem and the surrounding settlements in the suburbs received the rest of the funding. Zahav’s tour and information were frustrating to hear and see, especially after our morning in Yad Vashem.

As you readers can imagine, it was hard to reconcile what we saw in the museum and what we saw in East Jerusalem. It became especially frustrating to learn that the beautiful view of the Israeli countryside all visitors of the Yad Vashem see after completing the museum exhibits was actually the land of three destroyed Palestinian villages. We left Zahav and headed back to the hotel wondering “What are we supposed  to think now?”.

Zahav felt that U.S involvement was the basis of the problem. He may be correct. The United States provides $3 billion of military “aid” to Israel annually and has supported walls and other Israeli developments financially for decades. The brilliantly ruthless systems of Israeli occupation and discrimination would not last without U.S foreign aid. And, at least from my view, the current ways of Israeli governance are bound to collapse. It may just be time to let these nations figure this situation out themselves, under a different eye than that of the United States.

In my opinion, less U.S involvement would allow the Lord to let his influence to enter the region. No political solution is eminent so a change of policy is in order. As far as I can see, the Lord has his own plan for this sacred part of the world. For us to continually politically and financially interfere with his vision is short-sight and simply wrong. Then again, I will learn more tomorrow and possibly my view will change again. Such is the complexity of this conflict

Much love from Israel,

Blaine

Holy Land Holy People Day 7

Word for the day: RESTORATIVE

          Today was a good day. Everyday has been good, but today was calm, it was peaceful. Restorative. We saw a muskrat; Will Henderson thought it was cute and he wanted to catch it. A black cat stared us down while we ate ice cream, oh yeah ... we touched the same water that Jesus did 2000 years ago.

          The group started our day off with a 6:30 am breakfast at the Mar Elias Center, and we departed Ibillin shortly after. We ventured toward Bi’ram, Capernum, and the Sea of Galilee. Some of us even chanted “Yee Yee to the Sea of Galilee!” as we got closer and closer to the waters. Our first destination was Bi’ram, the home of Elias Chacour. When we were there we reviewed the history of Bi’ram through Chacour’s story Blood Brothers. Bi’ram was a small town that has exited since the first century CE. The sign at the park told us that the own existed from 1st to the 7th century CE, but we knew otherwise. Bi’ram fell to Israeli rule when soldiers came into the area saying that there was no way they could be protected. The people of Bi’ram were tricked out of their land. Later the people of Bi’ram tried countless times to gain access to their town, but they were not successful. Finally they gained a permit to return to the land and when they returned the Israeli military told them to wait one day. During that one days time, the Israeli military bombed and destroyed the entire town. 

          Without our knowledge a man by the name of Riad was waiting at the steps of Bi’ram to give us a personal tour of the town. He had gained word of our visit and wanted to welcome us and show us his town, or at least what was left of it. Riad informed us that the people of Bi’ram had been protesting the land for the past nine months. At least one person has been on the land at all times of the day; they are protesting their right of return to the land. Riad then showed us the remains of the entire town. The frustration and anger that I have experienced the past few days quickly resurfaced. The ruins that we saw looked as if they very well could have come out of the 7th century, but in reality, they were only 60 years old. They lay in ruins due to the bombs that were dropped on them. Riad then took us to the cemetery; he informed us that the cemetery was totally allowed. As it turns out, it is perfectly okay to live dead here, but living life here is strictly prohibited...For me, I think that it has come to the point in the trip where whenever I learn of a new tragedy, I almost laugh. I almost laugh at the absurdity that there is with this entire issue. I find myself trying to laugh it off as a mechanism to cope with the pain that comes with each new piece of information. 

Ruins at Bi'ram

          This afternoon was what made the day restorative. After Bi’ram the group traveled to Capernum, which is on the banks of the Sea of Galilee. Capernum is also the town where Jesus performed a lot of his ministry. The group toured Capernum and its ruins, ate lunch and then went on a boat ride across the See of Galilee. I have spoken with the group during discussion that I have recently struggled with seeing the beauty that the land holds. I remember the first morning; I looked out at Bethlehem and saw such beauty. Just a few days later, I looked out at the same city and I struggled to see that same beauty that I saw the first day, but I saw that beauty today. I felt that same awe that I felt when I first arrived. I saw that beauty out on the Sea of Galilee. 

Ruins at Capernum

The Sea of Galilee

          On the first day here, I wrote down as a prayer the lyrics to “Open the Eyes of My Heart,” and I am reminded now of the lines that say,

“I want to see you

I want to see you

To see you high and lifted up

Shining in the light of your glory.”

I have struggled seeing “the light of [His] glory’ due to the pain and anger that I have recently felt. Out on that water though, I saw Him shining fully in the light of His glory. I saw Him as I remembered how He healed the paralytic in Capernum, and when He called his disciples to follow Him. I remember when He walked out on top of the water to His disciples, and I remember when he stood up and said to the storm, “Quiet! Be Still!” I remembered all of these stories, and I remember how he was shinning in the light of His gory during this time. He was shining then, he has shown for ages before then, and he has shown every day since then. Where I earlier struggled to see God was in the living Hell that I witnessed in the days before. I struggled to see Him as I learned more and more about how many Human Rights violations were actually occurring. But out on the Sea of Galilee, I realized where God has been all of this time. Indeed, He has been in front of my face the entire time. God is in this land. He is in the people of this land. Every story I have heard has been gut wrenching. They all tear at us in ways that many of us have never been torn before, but God is here. Every person we have heard from has hope and love deep down in their hearts. They tell stories that make us cringe, but yet they all still have hope, faith, and above all, love in their hearts. God is hope; God is love, and this is where He is. He is in these people; He is in the Hope and love that they pour out toward us. Today was so great because I was reminded that even in the toughest of times God reigns. Today was restorative. Today was a good day.

Mark McAlister

Holy Land Holy People Day 6

For the first few days of this trip, we were all thrown headfirst into the Palestinian-Isreali conflict. We have felt a whole array of emotions: sadness, anger, even guilt, as we watched the results of supporting our "ally," Israel, with our words and our tax dollars, as they have removed a largely peaceful and happy people from the land they have lived on for thousands of years, oppressed them, bullied them, and misled the entire world about the true nature of this "conflict." We have seen walls, guard towers, checkpoints, military trucks, all in places they really don't need to be, all justified under the all-inclusive, misleading excuse: Security reasons.

Through all of the heart wrenching stories we have heard from the palestinian people, and the blatant injustice perfectly obvious to anyone with working eyes and ears, thus far it has been somewhat difficult to remember, through the distractions, that we are, in fact, in the Holy Land. I am typing this from the very city where Jesus Christ was born.

Today, we were able to take a step back from the modern day reality of this place and see it through the eyes of the people that lived here over 2000 years ago. We journeyed from Bethlehem to Jericho, the Dead Sea, the Mount of Temptation, and eventually to Nazareth. We finished the day in Ibillin, near the Sea of Galilee.

I checked one major thing off my bucket list today: floating in the Dead Sea. Being in water that is 30 percent salt is every bit as strange as you can imagine. You have no choice but to float, right on the surface. Standing up straight is nearly impossible.

It seems that nearly every physical thing in this area that is related to Jesus's life, his birthplace and the important places he visited, have been made into massive churches, which in turn turn into massive tourist attractions. It is difficult to see the Mountain Satan tempted Jesus on as He saw it when a monastery has been built over the site. The same goes for the Church of Nativity, and Nazareth. I appreciate the significance of these places, but its difficult to see them as they really were with all of the developments.

This is why my favorite parts of this trip have been the bus rides. As we rode from Jericho to Galilee along the Jordan River, I felt that not much had changed. The water, the desert, and the mountains haven't changed much in the last 2000 years. We were seeing that valley just as Jesus saw it.

I have grown up reading and hearing bible stories. Significant and profound as many of them were, they were still just stories. Stories that took place a long time ago in a land far, far away. But seeing these places for myself, in real life, is unreal. The stories become events, things that actually happened, right here, really not all that long ago. Today, these stories became real to me. Jesus Christ was a man that actually lived. He walked, preached, and performed miracles in the very places I walked today. Nothing can describe what that connection feels like.

The Holy Land is drenched in sadness, injustice, and oppression today. The people here are truly hurting. But this is the place where Jesus walked. This is the place where he taught us how to treat each other, to love our enemies. We are all sons of Abraham, children of God. Through all of the darkness, it is abundantly clear that there is hope for these people. Through Christ, there is hope for all of us.

Will White