One day we went to the Israeli Holocaust Museum, Yad Vashem.
I had been there many years ago, and found certain parts particularly moving.
But that was before the museum was renovated. What is called The Children's Memorial continues to be a powerful experience.
The rest of the museum felt to me like a multi-media barrage of the senses. Pictures, relics, music, old film-footage and tapes of interviews with survivors surround the visitor and in my case instead of inspiring me to make sure it never happens again, it just made me feel I was being hit over the head with a lead pipe.
And the final area settled it. It was basically a room saying "because of our suffering in the holocaust, we have the right to take over Palestine..." Never mind the fact that doing so would cause so much suffering for the people who already lived here!
Also different from the last time I went to Yad Vashem is the fact that the last time I was there was before I knew about the suffering of the Palestinians.
I am definitely not saying the Holocaust = the Occupation.
BUT certain ironies are unavoidable.
Early in the museum is a quote: "A country is not just what it does --it is also what it tolerates." (Kurt Tucholsky)
Israel tolerates oppressing Palestinians in so many ways...
Payne noticed another irony as he went through. As the museum traced the activities of the Third Reich the signs said: "When Germany occupied Poland it did this... When they occupied France they did so and so ... when they occupied another country..." Helloo -- maybe occupying a country does not bring out the best of any one!
A few days later we were in Hebron and a CPT (Christian Peacemaker Team member) pointed out another irony.
At the time of Kristallnacht, Nazis painted a Star of David on the doors of houses of
Jews, marking them for boycott and later arrest and torture and death.
In modern day Hebron, Jewish Settlers paint the doors of Palestinians with a Star of David.
What was really learned from the Holocaust?
Never again.
Except for some people.
Thursday 21 August 2008
Monday 11 August 2008
a happier Pentecost-like gathering
Our worship experiences here have been varied.
... already described our first Sunday with all Arabic-speaking Lutherans in Beit Sehour
... and we were at the Church of the Annunciation our second Sunday
.... and we joined with Sabeel for a Thursday noon service
... and we were in the Negev with Bedouins our third Sunday
... and we shared the bread of life and cup of forgiveness on Aush Ghrab (sorry, that blog-post isn't written yet)
So for our 4th Sunday we went to St George's Anglican - Episcopal Cathedral in Jerusalem.
We were interested in both the scheduled 9:30 AM Arabic-speaking service and the 11 AM English-speaking service. So we set off with the attitude that the amount of time we spent on checkpoints would determine which service we arrive in time for.
By now we are getting somewhat used to the routine at the check points. Everyone gets off the bus. We show our passports and are usually done easily (though one time we were challenged by a soldier who looked about 14 with a way-oversized gun: "Why do you want to go to this place?" My answer is always "Tourists.")
Anyway it's easy for us. But the Palestinians have to produce a permit. If they say "Mustashfa" it means they have to go to a hospital. Ironically, that means they have to go aside, in the hot sun, and stand around waiting while the soldiers take their stuff inside for a computer check. We've seen several weary, queazy looking older people not allowed back on the bus. (And at "rolling checkpoints" when soldiers simply stop a bus that's driving down the road anywhere it happens to be, we've seen old women and mothers with crying babies told to get off the bus and the bus had to just leave them on the side of the road, miles from their destination.)
How long the wait at the checkpoint is can be related to the intensity of the soldier at the time and the luc of who your fellow passengers happen to be. At some of the checkpoints everyone gets off, the bus goes aside and then reloads with who ever gets approved first -- so you may arrive at the checkpoint with one group of passengers and leave with all different people.
At any rate, we arrived in Jerusalem Sunday apparently too late for the Arabic service and too early for the English. So with spare time I asked the deskperson at St George's if we could have a look around. He told us "Today's a special combined service - it just started!"
So in we walked (Not to the front row!) for a combined Arabic & English service -- with Bishop Suheil Dawani presiding (and retelling the sermon in Arabic) and Bishop Te Kitohi Pikaahu from New Zealand preaching, and a seminary classmate, Bob Edmunds as a Canon, and Naim Ateek in the seats across the aisle from us.
So prayer and worship were joyfully shared in at least three languages, as the guest preacher offered his prayers in Maori. And it was a joyful celebration, as both Bishops reported that in their experience Lambeth was a a very positive gathering with faithfulness at its heart, and in their view the Anglican communion lives. Praise God!
... already described our first Sunday with all Arabic-speaking Lutherans in Beit Sehour
... and we were at the Church of the Annunciation our second Sunday
.... and we joined with Sabeel for a Thursday noon service
... and we were in the Negev with Bedouins our third Sunday
... and we shared the bread of life and cup of forgiveness on Aush Ghrab (sorry, that blog-post isn't written yet)
So for our 4th Sunday we went to St George's Anglican - Episcopal Cathedral in Jerusalem.
We were interested in both the scheduled 9:30 AM Arabic-speaking service and the 11 AM English-speaking service. So we set off with the attitude that the amount of time we spent on checkpoints would determine which service we arrive in time for.
By now we are getting somewhat used to the routine at the check points. Everyone gets off the bus. We show our passports and are usually done easily (though one time we were challenged by a soldier who looked about 14 with a way-oversized gun: "Why do you want to go to this place?" My answer is always "Tourists.")
Anyway it's easy for us. But the Palestinians have to produce a permit. If they say "Mustashfa" it means they have to go to a hospital. Ironically, that means they have to go aside, in the hot sun, and stand around waiting while the soldiers take their stuff inside for a computer check. We've seen several weary, queazy looking older people not allowed back on the bus. (And at "rolling checkpoints" when soldiers simply stop a bus that's driving down the road anywhere it happens to be, we've seen old women and mothers with crying babies told to get off the bus and the bus had to just leave them on the side of the road, miles from their destination.)
How long the wait at the checkpoint is can be related to the intensity of the soldier at the time and the luc of who your fellow passengers happen to be. At some of the checkpoints everyone gets off, the bus goes aside and then reloads with who ever gets approved first -- so you may arrive at the checkpoint with one group of passengers and leave with all different people.
At any rate, we arrived in Jerusalem Sunday apparently too late for the Arabic service and too early for the English. So with spare time I asked the deskperson at St George's if we could have a look around. He told us "Today's a special combined service - it just started!"
So in we walked (Not to the front row!) for a combined Arabic & English service -- with Bishop Suheil Dawani presiding (and retelling the sermon in Arabic) and Bishop Te Kitohi Pikaahu from New Zealand preaching, and a seminary classmate, Bob Edmunds as a Canon, and Naim Ateek in the seats across the aisle from us.
So prayer and worship were joyfully shared in at least three languages, as the guest preacher offered his prayers in Maori. And it was a joyful celebration, as both Bishops reported that in their experience Lambeth was a a very positive gathering with faithfulness at its heart, and in their view the Anglican communion lives. Praise God!
Pentecost ... except!
We finally had a day to walk and pray along the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem. The traditional full "Palm Sunday walk" route is no longer possible. It began in Bethany, a city now called Azariah - for Lazarus. After he raised Lazarus from the dead the final plot began to kill Jesus. The traditional walk begins at the convent marking the home of Mary & Martha and walking in to Jerusalem. This walk is no longer possible because The Wall separates Azariah / Bethany from Jerusalem.
So we began at the Mount of Olives, with a short detour to the Mosque marking Jesus' Ascension and the Pater Noster Church marking Jesus' teaching the disciples to pray. We entered Jerusalem through St Stephen's gate and walked the route from Jesus' Condemnation to the church of the Holy Sepulcher & traditional place of the Crucifixion & tomb.
There were huge crowds along the way, some very devout, others less interested, and shop-keepers eager to divert us from our spiritual purposes. I always remind myself that this is actually what it was like when it took place in Jesus' time. It was not a nice, quiet, prayerful event, like we want to recreate in church. It was noisy and smelly and chaotic. It was pushing and shoving. It was entertainment -- look - another crucifixion - and most of the people watching had no appreciation that it was Jesus Christ the Son of God who was going to his death. It was just another gathering for them. So when it doesn't feel all pretty and holy, it's really more realistic.
That said, with huge, long lines waiting to touch this spot and see that possible real tomb spot, B & P & I ducked into the back room of the Coptic church and found NO one there at the time. The cave / tomb was lit by only a single candle. We climbed into the small space and were there in silence for a minute or two, alone, wondering if this was how Mary Magdalene felt on that dark morning.
Later we went through the Ethiopian Orthodox church and up onto the roof and through another chapel and a passageway to a cistern (for once I had the advantage being shorter then B & P !) In the cistern there was an amazing echo, making my single voiced Alleluia! sound like a whole choir.
After The Stations we headed to Jaffa Gate where we found a parade of bagpipers! A crowd gathered as the pipes played. I looked around at that point and saw Hasidim with their traditional spectacular fur hats (when they get hot they take them off there is a yarmulke underneath). And I saw Monks in long robes in various browns, whites and grays from various orders. And I saw people who were Asian. And I saw people in traditional African garb.
Remember the book of Acts?
The Apostles were gathered in Jerusalem where there were people from so many languages and tribes, and they were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak and everyone heard in their own language .... And here in Jerusalem it is today as it was then - people of all nations are gather.
For a moment I rejoiced at experiencing this. Pentecost happens still today!
Then I remembered.
I am living with a Palestinian family whose family has been Christian since the very first Pentecost, whose ancestral home is in the very Shepherds Fields where the angels proclaimed the birth of the baby Jesus.
But my host family is not allowed to come to Jerusalem. They have to stay behind The Wall.
The children who fly kites with my son in Bethlehem have never been allowed to travel the roads to Jerusalem, or walk the Via Dolorosa as we did this day.
It's like Pentecost -- except -- not for everyone.
We began our day today not far from where Jesus wept over Jerusalem.
He still weeps.
So we began at the Mount of Olives, with a short detour to the Mosque marking Jesus' Ascension and the Pater Noster Church marking Jesus' teaching the disciples to pray. We entered Jerusalem through St Stephen's gate and walked the route from Jesus' Condemnation to the church of the Holy Sepulcher & traditional place of the Crucifixion & tomb.
There were huge crowds along the way, some very devout, others less interested, and shop-keepers eager to divert us from our spiritual purposes. I always remind myself that this is actually what it was like when it took place in Jesus' time. It was not a nice, quiet, prayerful event, like we want to recreate in church. It was noisy and smelly and chaotic. It was pushing and shoving. It was entertainment -- look - another crucifixion - and most of the people watching had no appreciation that it was Jesus Christ the Son of God who was going to his death. It was just another gathering for them. So when it doesn't feel all pretty and holy, it's really more realistic.
That said, with huge, long lines waiting to touch this spot and see that possible real tomb spot, B & P & I ducked into the back room of the Coptic church and found NO one there at the time. The cave / tomb was lit by only a single candle. We climbed into the small space and were there in silence for a minute or two, alone, wondering if this was how Mary Magdalene felt on that dark morning.
Later we went through the Ethiopian Orthodox church and up onto the roof and through another chapel and a passageway to a cistern (for once I had the advantage being shorter then B & P !) In the cistern there was an amazing echo, making my single voiced Alleluia! sound like a whole choir.
After The Stations we headed to Jaffa Gate where we found a parade of bagpipers! A crowd gathered as the pipes played. I looked around at that point and saw Hasidim with their traditional spectacular fur hats (when they get hot they take them off there is a yarmulke underneath). And I saw Monks in long robes in various browns, whites and grays from various orders. And I saw people who were Asian. And I saw people in traditional African garb.
Remember the book of Acts?
The Apostles were gathered in Jerusalem where there were people from so many languages and tribes, and they were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak and everyone heard in their own language .... And here in Jerusalem it is today as it was then - people of all nations are gather.
For a moment I rejoiced at experiencing this. Pentecost happens still today!
Then I remembered.
I am living with a Palestinian family whose family has been Christian since the very first Pentecost, whose ancestral home is in the very Shepherds Fields where the angels proclaimed the birth of the baby Jesus.
But my host family is not allowed to come to Jerusalem. They have to stay behind The Wall.
The children who fly kites with my son in Bethlehem have never been allowed to travel the roads to Jerusalem, or walk the Via Dolorosa as we did this day.
It's like Pentecost -- except -- not for everyone.
We began our day today not far from where Jesus wept over Jerusalem.
He still weeps.
Friday 1 August 2008
The weather, food, seat belts and other basics of life
Coming from Philadelphia, we find ourselves actually enjoying the weather here. Sounds trite, but humidity is really what it's all about. It's Ssso dry here, that we are not very bothered by the high temperatures, and enjoy being able to breathe easily.
The surprise for us is the wind. Most of the time there is some breeze. But at dusk it often becomes real wind, with lots of gusts that actually shake our stone home and make a ghostly noise. Now it's obvious to me how the disciples got in a boat in calm and then suddenly found themselves in a life threatening storm -- before I always thought it was strange that as fishermen they had not known better to anticipate this, now I know how sudden and unpredictable it is...
Payne has taken to joining in the logical local thing to do with this weather -- he flies kites with Jimi and Alla. Kite flying is definitely a major popular activity!
We are loving the food. Our hostess, Elham, is a great cook who makes most foods from scratch. She's trying to teach me to make Turkish coffee but I still don't quite have the hand. Her husband, Hamdi, has finally been able to come home from Jordan for a while, and he's a good cook too.
The major local hot-spot for locals to eat, drink and smoke nargilla is a place in the Shepherd's Fields called The Tent.
The Siraj program offers Arabic cooking classes. The other day, Payne & I were the only ones to show up for class so we had a super-private lesson from Abdullah at Ala Kaifak restaurant. We made 'Makluba' which means 'upside down.' Even at a professional restaurant it took 1 1/2 hours to fix but it was worth it (we got to eat it after cooking.)
Baird missed that cooking class because she was off with 'her little sister' Aseel. She goes to Aseel's volleyball practice and they are verifying that teen-age girl stuff is the same in Palestine as it is in America.... Whenever I walk in the room they ask me to leave... did you know a kuffiyeh could be a halter top?...
Our host family with extended cousins etc gets together all the time -- at least right now they do. One of Elham's sisters is here from Canada for the Summer -- it's their first time here in ten years so the family is trying to make up for Lots of lost together years.
At 10:15 every night the streets of Bet Sehour are empty because everyone is in the house in front of the tv for a Turkish soap opera -'Nur'. We can figure out what's going on without knowing the language...
The seatbelt thing is interesting. The Israelis are very strict about tickets for not wearing seatbelts. A little rebellion of the Palestinians is that as soon as they are out of sight of Israelis they take off their seatbelts. It is a sign of not wanting to be confined, as they are so strapped in and limited in so many other ways by the occupation. It's obviously a rather self-defeating rebellion because people drive like crazy around here, with their horns as their major weapons on the road. Payne is particularly annoyed by the horns and has various plots to silence them...
So these are a few of the everyday things in life in the OPT.
The surprise for us is the wind. Most of the time there is some breeze. But at dusk it often becomes real wind, with lots of gusts that actually shake our stone home and make a ghostly noise. Now it's obvious to me how the disciples got in a boat in calm and then suddenly found themselves in a life threatening storm -- before I always thought it was strange that as fishermen they had not known better to anticipate this, now I know how sudden and unpredictable it is...
Payne has taken to joining in the logical local thing to do with this weather -- he flies kites with Jimi and Alla. Kite flying is definitely a major popular activity!
We are loving the food. Our hostess, Elham, is a great cook who makes most foods from scratch. She's trying to teach me to make Turkish coffee but I still don't quite have the hand. Her husband, Hamdi, has finally been able to come home from Jordan for a while, and he's a good cook too.
The major local hot-spot for locals to eat, drink and smoke nargilla is a place in the Shepherd's Fields called The Tent.
The Siraj program offers Arabic cooking classes. The other day, Payne & I were the only ones to show up for class so we had a super-private lesson from Abdullah at Ala Kaifak restaurant. We made 'Makluba' which means 'upside down.' Even at a professional restaurant it took 1 1/2 hours to fix but it was worth it (we got to eat it after cooking.)
Baird missed that cooking class because she was off with 'her little sister' Aseel. She goes to Aseel's volleyball practice and they are verifying that teen-age girl stuff is the same in Palestine as it is in America.... Whenever I walk in the room they ask me to leave... did you know a kuffiyeh could be a halter top?...
Our host family with extended cousins etc gets together all the time -- at least right now they do. One of Elham's sisters is here from Canada for the Summer -- it's their first time here in ten years so the family is trying to make up for Lots of lost together years.
At 10:15 every night the streets of Bet Sehour are empty because everyone is in the house in front of the tv for a Turkish soap opera -'Nur'. We can figure out what's going on without knowing the language...
The seatbelt thing is interesting. The Israelis are very strict about tickets for not wearing seatbelts. A little rebellion of the Palestinians is that as soon as they are out of sight of Israelis they take off their seatbelts. It is a sign of not wanting to be confined, as they are so strapped in and limited in so many other ways by the occupation. It's obviously a rather self-defeating rebellion because people drive like crazy around here, with their horns as their major weapons on the road. Payne is particularly annoyed by the horns and has various plots to silence them...
So these are a few of the everyday things in life in the OPT.
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