Sunday, December 18, 2011

Sebi-Arus by Wayne Arnason. December 18, 2011

The reason for our Immersion and our pilgrimage to Konya with the group from Starr King School was Sebi-Arus (pronounced Shebi-a-Roos), the anniversary of Mevlana Rumi's passing, which the Sufis describe as his "wedding day with God".

We celebrated the day in three stages. in the morning, we practiced our turning. Thjs week we have had several hours of lessons and practice time in the Sema ritual of the whirling dervishes. A few of us are now able to turn for a few minutes in a relaxed and graceful way without dizziness.

After lunch, we went two hours early to the tomb of Mevlana Rumi for the 4 pm service of recitation in his honor. We were prepared for a crush of people seeking to be in Mevlana's presence on this holy day, either to pass by the tomb and museum or to remain inside for the service. It was not a place for those uncomfortable in crowds! Those of us who have attended very crowded general-seating rock concerts had to use all the survival skills we learned at those events to crowd our way into the tomb.

People were generally polite and as graceful as possible in an uncomfortable situation. Ibrahim Baba led the way in. His stature ( and height) means that he remains visible as people defer to him and he moves ahead more quickly than we do. Soon our group is spread out. Some of us find places to sit or stand near Baba, and others are elsewhere jn the tomb and museum.

During our two hour wait, we sat in meditation, read Rumi's poetry aloud, and interacted with those around us. Kathleen had a particularly vivid experience that she wanted to recount:

"Once inside the tomb, the sounds of the ney (a flute like instrument) were piped in; a lovely haunting melody that blended with the low murmur of the crowd. I started rocking back and forth to the music. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, had no feelings that I could identify, when suddenly, I found myself weeping. Not just sniffling, but tears rolling out of my eyes, and dripping on the ground. Rather than try to hold them back, I just let them come. I wept for what seemed like a long time, when the man standing beside me, who was the translator for a sheykh who spoke at a previous zikkr, said: "tears mean that that you are accepted here..." in other words, he was saying that whoever sheds tears at the Mevlani wedding night is a gift to Mevlana (Rumi) and that the gift has been accepted. I had not anticipated such an emotional response; nor had I remember feeling so moved before a service had actually begun!!

In the Sufi tradition, tears are a way for the heart to be cracked open, like a cardamon seed, in order to release it's fragrance and essence. The power of the presence of all those pilgrims, standing patiently side by side to pay homage to Rumi was intensely moving.

Wayne continues: After the recitation service, we made our way out slowly, partly because of the crowd and partly because people recognize Ibrahim Baba as a sheykh, and want to receive a blessing or ask for a photograph with him. He moves graciously through this spiritual rock star attention unfamiliar to religious leaders in America.

The third stage of our Shebi-Arus celebration was our final evening of Zikr in Konya. This one started at 8 pm and continued until 4 AM, with peak attendance and a very very crowded room at about 10. We left around midnight, after two rounds of singing, chanting, reciting, praying and dancing in various degrees of intensity.

Walking home to our hotel, we both agreed, it was a wedding we would never forget!

Location:Konya, Turkey

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Forty Days by Kathleen Rolenz December 17, 2011

Forty Days by Kathleen Rolenz December 17, 2011




We visited the Atesbaz Veli mosque near Lake Beyseyhir. This 700 year old mosque is noted for it's construction, primarily made of beautiful cedar wood beams and intricate wood carvings at the top, a rare thing to see in Turkey. We were given a tour and explanation of the mosque's beautiful and intricate mitzrah and calligraphy by the mosque's imam.





Then, a surprise! The imam took us to the corner of the mosque, lifted up the carpet and a door, which led down to a prayer area underneath the floor of the mosque. "This is where those who are ready for chilehaney, a spiritual retreat. They do not leave the mosque for the forty days of Ramadan. They have forty olives placed before them, and each day they break the fast with one olive a day. They do not sleep lying down; they have a cane under their chins so they must sleep in a seated position. When the cane falls, they must wake up and begin again."

This rite of passage for a devoted dervish monastic impressed us deeply and scared us at the same time. Solitary retreat is something both Wayne and I have dabbled in, but not explored very deeply in either the Christian or Buddhist traditions. The depth of spiritual practice in the near and middle east among both monastics and lay people is something that we will carry with us.

Forty days ago we were in Hebron, in the West Bank, a city of holy sites and intense conflict about who controls them and who can live near them. It seems like so long ago. Every day of this sabbatical journey has brought so much rich experience. Could forty days alone, just me and my mind and my prayers, possibly be even more valuable to my spirit?

Location:Lake Beyseyhir, Turkey

Zikr by Kathleen Rolenz. December 15, 2011




Every evening the pilgrims of Starr King have participated in Zikr, led by Baba Ibrahim Farajaje, his son Issa, and the worship leaders and musicians who have been an integral part of the immersion experience. The Zikr is a liturgical experience that is both structured and free form; framed by certain phrases and prayers in Arabic, but allowing for participation from the gathered. Last night, the Zikr began by singing Ma Tovu, which was a song created by the Starr King Pilgrims, and we quickly moved into chanting, prayers and singing. Within about the first half hour, a young man rose to his feet, bowed to ask permission of the sheik (spiritual leader) and then, began to whirl. Earlier that day we had a lesson in how dervishes turn. We first began with the feet, and then gradually added the arms : one palm up to receive God and one down pointed towards the earth, and in this way, heaven and earth are brought together in the dervish's whirling. As the rhythm began growing in intensity, so did the man's whirling.


Then, we were joined by three drummers, who raised the energy of the Zikr to a new level. This time, Tarif, the teacher who that morning had patiently endured our clumsy attempts to turn, rose. He was dressed in the costume of the dervish; a tall felt hat symbolizing one's headstone; the long white skirt that represents one's shroud. the spiritual practice of Sema points to the death of the self and union with God. He too bowed and asked permission of the sheik to turn. The drumming was ecstatic , resounding both with the pulse in our veins and the ever present beat of our hearts. Tarif began to turn, slowly at first, his long white skirt fanning out around him. Then, his arms unfolded like a flower, and the whirling became so fast that he became a blur. Everything came together in that moment; the music, chanting, singing, prayers and whirling dervishes.

My rational mind wanted to step back and analyze the experience; but another part just wanted to simply relax and enjoy the moment of being swept up in a rhythms of the drumming and chanting. We left the Zikr about midnight, just as it had begun to wind down; feeling tired and exhilarated all at the same time. Each night is a unique and unforgettable experience; one steeped in devotional practice instead of academic study of Sufism.

We are told that each night builds in intensity as we approach December 17, Sebis-Arus, the climactic day of this pilgrimage week, the day that Mevlana Rumi went to union with God in death. We can hardly wait.

Location:Konya, Turkey

Zen and Sufi Practice Traditions by Wayne Arnason December 17, 2011

Ibrahim Baba asked me if I could do some writing about any perceptions I have about common elements in Zen Buddhist and Sufi spiritual practices. My Zen experience is primarily within the Soto Zen lineage, so these reflections aren't informed by much Vajrayana (Tibetan) experience. I believe that the most obvious common elements I observe have less to do with the particular Buddhist or Sufi lineages that I have experienced, and more to do with a symmetry in spiritual practices among lineage-based religious communities, both monastic and lay.

Scholars of religious practice have long noted that monastics and mystics among the world's religions have much more in common than the average believer in these faiths would perceive. Zen and Sufi theologies both point towards the death of the ego as a gateway to enlightenment or union with God. The Sufis use the word "nafs" to describe the "desires" that Zen practitioners engage with non-attachment. There are many more examples of common philosophical and theological insights that Sufism and Buddhism share, and wiser teachers than I have published accessible books about them.

For purposes of this blog, let me name briefly some of the common structural, rather than theological, aspects of Zen and Sufism that are immediately evident:

1) Both are lineage traditions, with teaching authority passed down from individual empowered and authorized teachers (roshi or shaykh) to their students. How often a particular teacher exercises that authority and the criteria used for transmitting authority to teach are up to each teacher. The roshi's or shaykh's authority is unquestioned within the community that has gathered around them as long as this teacher exemplifies and embodies sound spiritual practice.

2) Because authority is diffused, tensions can arise about how various lineages have exercised the authority to empower teachers, and diverse lineages can have different practices and standards.

3) Liturgical practices of the two traditions both involve recitation from the scriptures and sacred poems, in chant forms.

4) Embodied practice is preferred as a gateway over academic study in both traditions. Although the practice of Sema, "turning", is unique to Mevlevi Sufism, it is interesting to remember that Zen meditation practice includes a period of " kinhin" or "walking meditation", five to ten minutes of slow and normal-pace walking in a circle while maintaining the meditative practice.

5) A unique training and teaching role for monastics in both the Sufi and Zen traditions in that of the Cook. The metaphors of food preparation are commonly used in teaching stories.

6) Stories are a common teaching vehicle in both traditions, and both tell teaching stories describing moments of enlightenment, when a student first "woke up".

7) Both traditions invite longer solitary retreat times as a formational discipline within a lifetime of spiritual practice.

8) Despite the value placed on solitary retreat, the support and shared practice of the community of students is essential.

9) Both Zen and Sufism remain minority mystical traditions within the world community of Buddhism and Islam, viewed with some suspicion and sometimes even hostility by many believers.




Location:Konya, Turkey

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Mother's Day! By Wayne Arnason December 14, 2011

It's still December in Konya but the Rumi Immersion created a different kind of Mother's Day by traveling yesterday to two sites outside the city that honor the feminine principle in religion, and jn Sufism in particular. The first was Catal-Huyuk, the archaeological dig first uncovered in the early sixties where some of the earliest evidence of human community and religious practice was discovered. This included statues of the Goddess that led to speculation that these Neolithic communities which pre- date Western Civilization's written history may have worshipped the feminine principle and been matriarchal in structure.


The visit to this site completed a circle in our travels. On November 27, Kathleen wrote a blog reflection on seeing the statues from this site in the Ankara Museum so it was exciting to see the place where they were found.

Our second visit completed another circle. We went to Karama to pay our respects at the tomb where Mevlana's mother and many other family members and descendants are buried. This city is where Mevlana's family first lived when they arrived in Anatolia. The mosque was beautiful and the prayers offered there were deep.

We travel with two young children in our group, and outside the mosque after the visit, two local women who were meeting their husbands and children at this location started talking with the mothers in our group. Lively conversation ensued and photographs were taken. Mothers can always find a bond across whatever cultural or language divisions may separate them.

Location:Konya, Turkey

Turning by Wayne Arnason December 13, 2011




Last night we attended the Sema at the Cultural Center in Konya. Sema is the ceremony and spiritual practice known in the West as the "whirling dervishes". Mevlana Rumi taught the practice in the 13th century and it has remained important in his school of Sufism. It has also been "adopted" by the current Turkish government as a cultural treasure and tourist attraction!

If you are a tourist in Turkey, you can find "performances" of Sema to attend in larger cities, much like the flamenco performances in Spain. In Konya, the government built a 4000 seat auditorium designed primarily for Sema, and pays an honorarium to the ceremony participants. During this week of the pilgrimage, there are two ceremonies each day all week! Our teachers here have mixed feelings about this attention given to Sema. On the one hand, it preserves and makes accessible this practice to a wider audience and draws spiritual seekers to investigate more about Mevlana and Sufism. On the other hand, the ceremonies are offered with little interpretation of the symbolism and spiritual meaning.

While we were moved and impressed by the beauty of the Sema performance, we were acutely aware that spiritual practice is not a spectator sport! While the meditative practice of ritual turning in a small area of space as a way of expressing love for and experiencing the divine is not an easily accessible practice, its most important meaning arises from doing it, not from reading about it or watching it.

Everything in this world is turning, and how we turn, towards truth, towards God, towards daily attention to what us highest and holiest in our lives, makes all the difference in how our life in the world turns out.

Location:Konya, Turkey

Monday, December 12, 2011

The Heart of Sufism




One of the expectations of a dervish is to be of service. As I entered the kitchen at the Dervish Brothers guest house, I asked the hostess if there was anything I could do. Aiesha said "You are the fourth person who asked me if she could help, and I said no before, but something makes me say yes." So, she sat me down in front of a pile of what looked like weeds. She picked up the end of a bunch of spinach, cut off the white stalk, and then cut it in half, putting the gritty remains in one pile and the other parts in the "keep" pile. She handed me a knife and I set to work.

About ten minutes later she returned to the kitchen, looked at my "discard pile" and told me I had cut off and kept the wrong parts!! "Here, taste this," she said, handing me the end of the spinach greens. "This is the heart and it's very sweet."

I have cut up spinach greens much of my life, but I never even knew that it had a heart. I had continued to cut out the heart and put it in the discard pile, when in truth it was the best part.

Aeisha continued to show me how to access the heart, and said: "In Turkish cooking, we use everything. We respect all parts of the plant. In Sufi practice, we try to find the heart in everything; but you must know what it is you are looking for, and you must know how to access it." I had to go back into the bag of dirt and grit covered greens to find the hearts of the spinach that I had thrown out.

Ibrahim Baba said that sometimes a Sufi may be talking about something seemingly unrelated to "spiritual conversations." He said that sometimes students will be disappointed to hear a Sufi talk about a mundane task, yet, the novice dervish will soon realize that the simplest tasks can contain the lesson for the day.

I surely received my lesson for the day, looking--and finding -- the heart of Sufism practice in a pile of spinach greens.

Location:Konya, Turkey

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Singing at the Tomb by Wayne Arnason December 11, 2011




Our first obligation after our Rumi Immersion group stepped off the overnight train from Istanbul to Konya was to visit the great teachers whose lives had inspired this visit, Shams of Tabriz and Mevlana Rumi. Readers with only passing familiarity with Rumi may not recognize the name of Shams. He was Rumi's teacher and beloved friend, responsible for "splitting the cardamom seed" of Rumi's heart and opening up the spiritual gifts he gave to the world through his writing.

To visit these teachers and pay your respects, you go to their tombs. The tomb of Shams, unlike that of Rumi, is in an active mosque and not part of a museum that tourist buses visit. Those waiting to enter it are usually pilgrims from around the world and local people. As we approached, the leader of the Russian Sufis who were arrived at the same time recognized our teacher and leader Ibrahim Baba, and warm greetings were exchanged. We all went in together.

Group prayers and singing are discouraged at the tomb to keep the flow of pilgrims moving, but perhaps because of this pilgrimage week, no security officials objected when members of the Russian group began prayer chants. At their invitation, we all sat down and entered into twenty minutes of zikkr, or sacred prayer chant. The room fell still and all who were coming and going after us were caught up in this beautiful moment . It was a glorious way to begin our week in Konya.

Location:Konya, turkey

Friday, December 9, 2011

Christianity as the Land of the Living and Not The Dead by Kathleen Rolenz December 9, 2011

After seeing literally dozens of churches, mosques and synagogues in three different countries, spanning from the first century to the twentieth century, today's visit to Istanbul's Chora Church stood out as one of the highlights of the entire trip for me. The Chora Church was originally built as an Orthodox church in the 5th century and what it lacks in size it makes up for in the incredible beauty of the 15th century mosaics it contains.

What struck all of us about these mosaics, beyond their vivid colors and three dimensional appearance, was the lack of emphasis on the torture, suffering and death of Jesus. Instead, the narthex contained images of and references in Greek letters to Jesus as the Land of the Living and his mother Mary as "the container of the uncontainable." There is a tenderness in many of the scenes between Mary and Jesus; in Jesus assisting the ancestors to heaven, and a gentle intimacy between Mary's parents Joachim and Anna. One mosaic depicting the birth of Mary shows the women attending the birth, caring for Anna, and washing the baby.

As we looked upon the final mosaic, one of the few in the nave, titled "Mary's Dormition" (her bodily death) Rebecca Parker reflected on a question posed to her about the absence of the violent imagery we had grown accustomed to in the churches in Spain. Dr.Parker spoke about how western Christianity's use of redemptive violence as a theological position did not start to dominate their religious art and architecture until the beginning of the 7th century. We asked why? What might have been some of the factors that contributed to the difference between east and west, to the change from these beautiful, peaceful and life-inspiring mosaics to the broken body of Christ on the cross? Her answer was provocative. "This is still a theory, but I believe that fear of Muslims and Jews are connected to Western Christianity's use of violence in depictions of Jesus...". We remembered the history of the Visigoth Christians' anti-Semitism in the 6th and 7th centuries prior to being driven out of Spain jn the 8th by Muslims. In the four centuries that followed, western Christians crusaded to recover their lands, both holy and secular, and punish those who they believed had denied or killed Christ, the only way to salvation. Just as Christ died for us in a vicarious atonement, the western church taught that waging war and dying for Christ was redemptive. So western Christian iconography displayed the violence used to torture and kill Jesus to illustrate that such violence has a salvific purpose.

The images in the Chora church were beautiful not only for their exquisite craft work and intriguing stories, but because they represented the Christianity not obsessed with redemptive violence as the central message of the faith. The Eastern Christian theology and the Marian devotion we have encountered and learned about on our journey is a gift and a comfort we will carry back with us.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Returning Again December 9, 2011




There's a song by Rabbi Schlomo Carlebach we've sung occasionally in church that has the chorus: "Return again, return again, return to the home of your soul." The song is in our song and liturgy book for this Intensive, and has been on our minds as we spent yesterday exploring the buildings and culture of the Jewish community of Istanbul.

We "returned again" to a culture we explored in museums and older neighborhoods in Spain. Back on October 14, we posted a blog about a poignant visit to the artifacts of a once-vibrant Jewish community in Lucena. Our encounter with the Sephardic Jews ended with their exile from Spain when Isabella and Ferdinand decided to make it mono-culturally Catholic in 1492. We did not realize we would find out so much about what happened next to them two months later in Turkey. Many thousands of Spanish Jews were welcomed into Turkey by the Muslim Sultan Bayezid II after 1492, who saw not only a humanitarian need, but an opportunity to enrich the economy and culture of the new Ottoman Empire.

In contemporary Istanbul, there are 14,000 to 18,000 Jews left in a city of 12 million. The cultural and religious leaders of this community realize that there is a chance this unique Jewish culture could become extinct unless they take steps to record and renew it. So they are returning again, returning again to the home of the soul for this community, which is their folk and liturgical music.


At the Ottoman Sephardic Jewish Cultural Center we met Karen Sarhon the Director and Diva of this reclamation and restoration project. Her vibrant personality and persistence have been the engines driving the documentation and the performance of the music that immediately conveys the home of the soul for Sephardic Jews.

The home language of this community is "Ladino" a Spanish dialect that has absorbed elements of Arabic, Turkish, and Hebrew into their songs. Of course, the daily language of the Turkish Jews is Turkish, and the last generation of native Ladino speakers is almost gone. This made the preservation of the songs even more critical.

After hearing a fascinating two hour presentation on the music, culture and food of the Turkish Sephardic Jews, we were treated to an evening concert in which the music was brought to life by a band with Turkish instruments and two vocalists, Karen herself taking the lead. It was a wonderful day.

This culture has survived for over 500 years in a Muslim country, not only tolerated but to a certain extent protected by civil authorities. They have not grown because successive generations have succumbed to the attractions of other places to live, Israel among them. The last fifty years of struggle between Israel and its Muslim neighbors have made the Jews in Turkey a target for extremists, and so we went through a thorough security check before we could enter the Sephardic Center. We are not sure what the future holds for them in Turkey. But Karen and her generation are recognizing what they must do to sustain the flame of this unique and precious culture, and we felt honored to be present to their story. It helped us return again to the home of that soul we all share.

Location:Istanbul, Turkey

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Ya Hazrati Mevlana! By Wayne Arnason December 7, 2011

For all the time we've been travelling, our e-mails about making arrangements to be part of the Starr King School for the Ministry's Intensive Course on the Sufi religious leader and poet Rumi have had these words in the subject line. The words loosely translated mean "Hail Saint Mevlana" (the name that Sufis and most Turks call Rumi.) Over the past twenty-four hours, we have returned to Istanbul and made the transition from being tourists roaming all over Turkey to being pilgrims whose eyes are turned towards Konya, where the annual Mevlana pilgrimage will be held next week.

We have wanted to join this Intensive ever since Starr King first offered it three years ago, not only because we have long enjoyed the poetry of Rumi, but because we knew there was a deeper story and context to the Rumi poetry translations popular in America, which generally skim over and universalize the Islamic foundation for everything Rumi wrote.

For those reading this blog who are unfamiliar with Sufism, it is described most simply as the mystical branch and order within Islam. Like so many mystical traditions, it resonates profoundly with the teachings of monastic and mystical orders within other religious traditions, especially with the Zen Buddhist and Christian forms with which we are most familiar.

Our "baba", or teacher these next twelve days is Dr. Ibrahim Farajaje, a Starr King School faculty member who has a home in Istanbul and is a practitioner in the Mevlana Sufi tradition. We are joined by Dr. Rebecca Parker, President of Starr King, and co-author of "Saving Paradise", a book on the early Christian understandings of Jesus' life and message and how they were highjacked by theologies of atonement and sacred violence. Seven Starr King students, seven auditors, and five scholar-artists make up our group, which also includes two lively toddlers!

Today we visited Hagia Sofia for the second time, enjoying Rebecca Parker's introduction to this Basilica/Mosque as a vision of paradise on earth as the goal of religious life, and hearing Ibrahim Farajaje's reflection on the "Holy Wisdom" within Christianity and Islam to which Hagia Sofia is dedicated. We also visited a Greek Orthodox church and monastery dedicated to the healing power of the Virgin Mary.
Tomorrow's program explores the history of Sephardic Jews in Istanbul, as we continue to find connections back to our time in Spain where we first met the Sephardic Jews whose exile from Spain brought them here to Constantinople.

So we feel richly rewarded by choosing this Intensive course as our last adventure in these three months of travel. It will tie together a lot of threads connecting Jewish, Christian, and Muslim practice at the deepest level. However there is one new thread we have experienced here already that we recognize we have missed personally as we have travelled, and that thread is worship and group devotional practice.

So much of our travel to sacred sites has involved intellectual learning, in history and theology, and aesthetic enjoyment of natural and artistic beauty. There is a devotional quality to learning and to enjoying beauty, of course. This is different from group devotions and worship through liturgy and song, however. Liturgy, recitation, scripture, and song are going to be important gateways to encountering the Sufi's wisdom on this final stage of the journey, and we welcome this with open arms.

This morning we began the day learning the recitation and chant that is included in the five daily prayers a Muslim may offer. We also learned to sing a Jewish song that includes the chorus " L'Haim Olahim " - "To the Life of the World" ! We sang it on the bus on the road to our destinations today. Wonderful!

And so it begins ! Ya Hazrati Mevlana! L'Haim Olahim!

Location:Istanbul, Turkey

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

The Power of Words. By Kathleen Rolenz. December 6, 2011




We stood on the spot where tens of thousands of Australians, New Zealanders, (ANZAC) and Turks were killed in the famous battle of 1915 fought on the peninsula between the Aegean Sea and the Dardanelles Strait known as "Gallipoli". The battle ground where so many lost their lives is holy ground for both Turks and ANZAC. Turks bring their children to Gallipoli to learn their history, to honor the courage of the the Turkish troops and to celebrate the leadership of the great military strategist and war hero, Kemel Attaturk. Australians and New Zealanders also are regular pilgrims here, and are warmly welcomed and hosted and honored by the Turks. It was very moving to stand on this beautiful peninsula held sacred by the former enemies who fought here.

Last week we visited the mausoleum and museum of Turkey's first president, Attaturk and read some of the same stories about this defining moment in Turkey's history. Attaturk's accomplishments were impressive and many; not only did he help to win the battle at Gallipoli, he moved Turkey from a collection of primarily Islamic tribes and nation states to create a united country from the ruins of the Ottoman empire. He westernized Turkish dress, adopted the Western alphabet and is given credit for the very sophisticated and modern country which is Turkey today.

Among these many accomplishments, however, we were particularly touched by one speech given in 1934 --22 years after the battle at Gallipoli. An excerpt from this speech was carved into a monument that stands near the shores of where one of the battles took place. It reads: "Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives...you are now living in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the 'Johnnies' and the 'Mehmets' to us where they lie side by side here in this country of ours. You the mothers who sent their sons from far away countries, wipe away your tears. Your sons are now living in our bosom, and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land they have become our sons as well."




It was just a speech, but it made a world of difference in the way that the countries who fought at Gallipoli feel about each other. Attaturk's speech was more than an olive branch; it was a heart-felt acknowledgement of how all of us suffer in war; and that it matters not the nationality of the dead soldiers; they were all some mother's sons. The power, grace and elegance of his words made healing possible

On April 25, 2015, ten thousand Australians and New Zealanders are expected to come to Turkey for the 100th anniversary of this battle and to pay their respects to their war dead. These three countries, once fierce enemies have become united in their respect for this holy ground and for the sacrifices made by the young men of their countries.

Location:Gallipoli, Turkey

Myth Busting at Troy by Wayne Arnason December 6, 2011





Most of us grew up learning the story of the Trojan War, and so I was excited to visit the ruins of Troy. Our guide, Isa, is well versed an ancient history and delights in myth-busting, so we were not surprised when he scorned the tacky Trojan Horse at the entrance to the archaeologic site and started giving us the true story.

The true story is that Homer lived 400 years after the time of Troy and had no historical basis for his story, other than the knowledge that there had been a military excursion against Troy about that time. The true story is that the Trojans in the city were Hittites and didn't share a common worship of Greek Gods as Homer depicts. The true story is that the Greek ships couldn't possibly withdraw into hiding behind the little island we could see in the distance and that however the Greeks managed to get into the city, a wooden horse is an unlikely military strategy for them to employ.

The archeological tour was fascinating. We saw nine layers of Troy, covering three thousand years of ancient settlement at this site. It's a rich source of knowledge about the ancient world.

But the stories of wily Agamemnon and mighty Achilles, grieving Priam and brave Hector, and the legendary beauty of Helen of Troy, still fire our imaginations. It's good to know the truth but it's also good to enjoy the myth. The original archeologists who searched out this site had agendas that went beyond the pursuit of historical fact. They wanted fame and they wanted to use myth to support political and cultural agendas of their own.

With no agenda of our own save our own learning and pleasure, we were able to be in Troy as a place in history and a place in our imaginations, and enjoy both .

Location:Troy, Turkey

Monday, December 5, 2011

First Church! by Wayne Arnason December 5, 2011

There are dozens of "First Churches" among UU congregations all over the country, because that was the common, and optimistic, name for the first U or U church established in a city. Too often it has turned out to be the first and only.

Before leaving off our notes on the ancient Biblical cities whose ruins we visited, we had to mention that in Laodecia, we had the chance to see what might arguably be the real First Church, i.e. the first church building ever constructed, as early Christian communities decided they were big enough to move out of meetings places in caves or private homes. It was a thrill to see this ancient building.

We're going to save some more reflections on what we learned about sustaining and maintaining religious buildings and communities over the centuries for this year's messages about ( what else ? ) the Stewardship Campaign!




Location:Laodicea, Turkey

Sunday, December 4, 2011

The Footsteps of Paul By Kathleen Rolenz December 5, 2011

Seeing the restored ruins of the ancient city of Ephesus was certainly a highlight of our sabbatical journey, and a familiar highlight for the many tourists who come here from cruise ships or day tours from Istanbul. It's among the oldest and most complete Roman cities to be excavated and partially restored. It's also a city of great interest to Christians because it is often mentioned, especially in the Book of Acts' stories about the journeys of St. Paul.



While in Ephesus, our feet walked on the actual stones that were underneath the feet of the apostle Paul during his stay in Ephesus. It was a profound feeling, to walk in his footsteps; and to see and touch some of the stones that he certainly would have touched. For many liberals, Christians or not, Paul is a controversial figure. He was certainly the main reason that so many early Christian communities were created; his travels alone extend from modern day Syria, to Turkey, Greece and Italy. He was a prolific writer, preacher, and church organizer. His theological positions are still being debated today, including the ones that our modern day sensibilities don't like very much.

However, while visiting some of the places where he either visited or wrote about, it's impossible not to have some admiration for this bandy-legged, balding, short-of-stature man who was so passionate about Jesus' message that he would risk prison, torture, exile or death to preach about it. The fact that Paul was nearly kicked out of Ephesus for his preaching The Word really impressed me.



At least that's what I thought until I read the story about Paul in Ephesus in the book of Acts 19: 23-41. In that story, charges are brought against Paul by a silversmith named Demetrius. His chief complaint was not about Paul's theology--but simply that Paul was preaching against the worship of the goddess Artemis, and because this silversmith had a lucrative business of creating statues of Artemis and other devotional objects, Paul's preaching was having an effect on his business! Demetrius' objections were so fierce that he roused a mob to bring Paul to the very stadium where we also stood to either imprison him or run him out of town. Lucky for Paul that he was a Roman citizen because according to Roman law, no citizen may be persecuted without a fair trial. Furthermore, the leader of the townspeople of Ephesus said that he would fault the mob for an unlawful gathering, so Paul was allowed to stay in Ephesus unmolested. I doubt if he would have many friends there after all that !


As we left Ephesus, there was the usual array of souvenir shops selling by-now familiar trinkets; glass keychains, bracelets and baubles to ward off the "evil eye" ; mounds of pashimas and purses; rosaries and crosses, and consumer goods like "genuine fake" watches and sunglasses. I couldn't help but to think of what the Apostle Paul would do upon seeing all this stuff that no one really needs, but so many people buy anyway. "earthly things will pass away, but my words will surely not pass away." He would echo Jesus' words that reminds us that what truly brings happiness is not the trinkets from a souvenir stand or even finely crafted statues of Artemis, but living and walking in the footsteps of Jesus or other great spiritual masters.

Location:Ephesus, Turkey

Saturday, December 3, 2011

How the Mighty Have Fallen December 3, 2011





Visiting the ruins of the ancient city of Aphroditus and Laodicia was a humbling experience. Laodicia sat on the hillside near another great city of Heroditus, right next to the lime capped cliffs of Pamukkale. It was one of the cities Paul wrote about in his letter to the Colossians. It's one of the seven cities John of Patmos mentioned by name in the Book of Revelations. The city was visited by Paul and mentioned by John because it was a major population center and had a significant Jewish community.

Each time we visit one of these sites, we track where this place was on Paul's journeys, and we admire the restoration of the ruins and the art and artifacts in the nearby museums. But each time there is a melancholy feeling that we touch as we contemplate the fact that these large ancient cities, with well engineered water systems, good roads, stadiums, governance systems, great art installations, and a strong economic base are gone. What brought them down?

In some cases, natural disasters beyond their control, like earthquakes. In some cases, incompetent administrations that could not see historical and economic changes coming that would change the advantages the city had always enjoyed. In many cases, wars of conquest, often fueled by fundamentalist religious ideologies, laid the city low.

We see these ancient ruins, and then back in our hotel, check the headlines on the I Pad, and read about natural disasters, incompetent administrations, and wars fueled by fundamentalist ideologies. It seems we haven't learned much in two thousand years.

Location:Loadicea, Turkey

Friday, December 2, 2011

Walking in Beauty - Wayne Arnason December 2, 2011




"Beauty is inseparable from the real and the true, because like them, it accompanies the reflection of the One in the many. It opens the doors of the finite unto the infinite, and frees the soul from the confines of mortal forms..." Seyed Hossein Nassr , from "The Garden of Truth".

"The Garden of Truth" is a book about the theology and teachings of Sufism that we are reading in preparation for the beginning of the Rumi Intensive course offered by Starr King School for the Ministry, that will conclude the Children of Abraham half of our sabbatical. I came across this quote today as I was contemplating how to tie together the diverse experiences of the past couple of days into one blog post. Since Wednesdays we have explored ancient cave churches, watched sunsets and sunrises, walked on a beach, marvelled at a waterfall, gazed into the eyes of ancient Roman faces, and splashed in brilliant blue pools of water cascading down white limestone cliffs.

Instantly, it was clear; what was clear was not only one of the unifying threads of the last few days, but a unifying thread of all that we wanted to do on this journey through three countries, faith traditions, and cultures. We wanted to have the time to simply walk in beauty, and to appreciate all that these countries, faiths, and cultures treasure as beautiful.



Wherever we have come as pilgrims, to a holy site revered in sacred history (like St. Basil's Cave in Cappadocia), or to a famous archeological museum with ancient treasures of art (like the Roman sculptures retrieved from Perge on display in Antalya), or a natural wonder admired for thousands of years by Romans, Christians, and Muslims alike ( such as the limestone cliffs and pools at Pamukkale) we have ultimately come as pilgrims in search of beauty.




Tourists are notorious photographers and we are no different. In our defense, I must say we are only trying to capture the beauty that has astounded and moved us, in a form that will help us remember it. In this we are perhaps no different than the Orthodox Christian worshipers praying before their icons. In the 1500 photographs we have made so far, ( pity upon any who ask us if we took any pictures and can we see them?) we are only trying to honor and preserve the reflection of the One in the many that we have found, over and over again, along this road.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Cultural faux pas de deux By Kathleen Rolenz November 30, 2011

I. After leaving Cappadocia we headed southeast to Konya, to visit the tomb of Mevlana Rumi, Sufi Master and poet. The atmosphere around his tomb was somber and devotional; as Muslim women wept openly and prayed with their palms raised. One woman in particular stood out; clearly in deep prayer. Then piercing the devotional silence was the ring of someone's cell phone. The woman in Western dress scrambled for quite some time to find the offending phone to shut it off. The woman in prayer didn't even seem to notice.

II. About an hour after leaving Konya, we pulled up to a really nice gas station rest stop for lunch. I found the restroom, went inside, and then was faced with a row of bidets, but no toilets. This is curious, I thought. I had never seen s restroom like this. Eastern style toilets yes, bidets yes, but this was a wholly new cultural experience. Just then, there was frantic pounding on the door. "Occupied!!" I said. More pounding on the door. "OK, just a minute...". I opened the door and a Muslim woman gently rook my arm and led me out of the bidet room. She pointed towards the sign that said "WC". (bathroom) Then she gestured to a sign that said "mosque". I had unknowingly entered the room where Muslim women wash themselves before going into the mosque to pray. I never expected to see a mosque in a gas station, but there it was!!!

I did not know the Turkish word for "I'm sorry" so I put my hand over my heart and bowed low. She smiled, and seemed to forgive me for almost defiling the place where the faithful wash before prayers. Whew! Now I know the difference between a bidet, a WC, and a place to wash before one prays.

Location:Konya, Turkey

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Cappadocian Refuge by Wayne Arnason November 29, 2011




Cappadocia was one of the stops on our sabbatical that we were most looking forward to. Kathleen's interest was focused on the unique place it has in Christian history. She has been interested in the Cappadocian Church Fathers, especially Gregory of Nyssa, whereas I was looking forward to the beauty of the unusual rock formations. What neither of us expected was how overwhelmingly beautiful the entire landscape is, and how it feels like a place of refuge.

We had precious little time to walk alone, or walk together in silence, just the two of us, apart from the group we are travelling with - but when we did, we understood completely why from the second century onward Christian communities, both monastic and lay, had taken refuge here. The dozens of hidden valleys, the womb-like caves offering warmth in winter and cool in summer, the empty landscape filled with spirit and pointing to God, have given shelter, comfort, and inspiration to both Christians and Muslims.


The Christian churches that have been preserved inside these caves with their "fairy chimneys" contain layers of religious art, some of it 1200 years old, covered over with another layer of images a thousand years old. Outside these churches, one valley has a mosque built jnto the mountainside, now unused and part of the world heritage site, but active up until the 1950's. Human beings have been at home here for thousands of years, and left the marks of their faith on the walls. We felt at home too, after just a day. We could easily spend many more days here, exploring many more valleys, finding refuge in every one.

Location:Cappadocia, Istanbul

Monday, November 28, 2011

At the Potter's House- November 28, 2011

"Rise up and go to the house of the potter, and there you will hear my words..." Jeremiah 18




The last visit of the day was at the studio of Galip, an internationally known prize winning potter, who uses the clays of Cappadocia for his many and varied designs. Galip, who looks like a younger version of Einstein, greeted us warmly and then welcomed us into his cave-like pottery studio for a demonstration of how he fashions something out of literally a lump of clay. Seated in front of the potters wheel, he began spinning the wheel with his legs. Wetting his hands he then started fashioning the clay. Just when I thought I knew what he was going to do with it, the form changed before my eyes; at first, a tall vase; then a bowl, finally, a fluted pot with scalloped edges, all done within a moment's time.

Our group fell silent during this process, as we knew we were in the presence of a master artist, but even more than that--I felt as if I were watching an ancient act of creation- fashioning from dirt and water a bowl, a water pitcher, a vase. It's no coincidence that in the Bible the potter is used as a metaphor for God; shaping that which is formless; having the ability to create (or destroy) whatever the Potter has fashioned.



After Gulip created the bowl, he invited questions. Knowing how prominently this ancient art form is featured in the Bible, as well as talking to potter friends who find this craft deeply spiritual, I asked him: " Is there any aspect of the process that you connect with the most; that touches you--spiritually?". He took a while to answer through the translator, and then finally said what I thought he might; the act of putting his hands in the clay and letting the clay speak to him; letting the clay decide what it shall become. He also spoke of the connection with his ancestors; not only his father and grandfather, who were potters before him, but the ancient people from Mesopotamia, who created these objects of practical art.

Afterwards, we were invited to his studio showroom to purchase any items if we wished, and Wayne and I took a long time deciding what to buy. We wanted something that was created from Gulip himself, so we finally chose a plate that carries one of his unique designs, a tulip exploding from the center of a swirl of Cappodocian colors reminiscent of a Grateful Dead poster cosmic spiral. It will serve as a small reminder of the moment with the Master; witnessing creation being fashioned beneath his own clay-stained hands.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Cappadocia, Turkey

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Worshiping the Feminine? by Kathleen Rolenz November 27, 2011

Last week there were protests around Istanbul, but we didn't know what was being protested. Our guide, Isa, told us that the protests were about the slap-on-the-hand fines that were given to husbands who beat, or even killed their wives. He said that when the women in the poorer regions of the country were subjected to abuse or murder at the hands of their husbands, the crime was taken up not by civil law, but by tribal law. Tribal law usually sided with the men, giving them either a light sentence or somehow excusing the behavior with the belief that the wife deserved to be punished. Although Turkey is a modern country, governed by laws, some of the areas of Anatolia kept to their old ways; those customs are hard to break; and the current government in Ankara is unwilling to come down hard on domestic abusers.


The next day we had an all-too-brief visit at the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations in Ankara. The museum features one of the finest collection of ancient art and artifacts in the world. In several of the displays we saw small statues of the Goddess ; large hips and breasts; images carved into stone of women in ceremonial worship to the goddess; clay knick-knacks that may have been used for decoration or veneration. These are the archeological relics that have led several anthropologists and cultural historians to speculate that the earliest civilization in Anatolia, prior to recorded history, was matriarchal and goddess worshipping.

As I stood looking at these figures fashioned thousands of years ago, I couldn't help but wonder--what happened?? How did we go from worshiping a goddess to pardoning a murderer if the victim is your wife?? Feminist theology had long pointed out the connection between patriarchy and spousal violence. In so many places around the globe even today-- women's bodies, intellect, gifts and rights are abused, ignored or abandoned.



Something else I saw in the museum gave me hope. One particular display featured many small Goddess figurines, as well a clay figure of a man and a woman with two heads, one body, and their arms wrapped around one another. The description said that whether or not these figurines represent a matriarchal society was arguable, but what was clear was that women and men were treated equally in this early civilization.

Perhaps patriarchy did overthrow matriarchy somewhere in Turkey's pre-history, but respect for women is part of this country's cultural heritage. I hope that the legislators and officials who have the power to change and enforce the laws will recall their own rich history of justice for all it's citizens.

As I gazed at the Goddess figures, I saw two Muslim women in hijabs standing next to me and smiling at what they saw. We looked up at each other and our eyes met. We knew we were feeling the same thing.

Location:Ankara, Turkey

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Worlds Apart, Side by Side November 26, 2011

Like Jerusalem, Istanbul is an amazing world class city in which the ancient monumental sites are literally a few steps apart but represent different eras of history and different cultural and spiritual worlds. While Istanbul's history has been one of being conquered lost and conquered again by Christians and Muslims, today this Muslim country has tried to steer a secular democratic course which includes religious tolerance. Half a century ago, this meant that the most visible ancient monument to the swirl of alternating Christian and Muslim dominance, the Hagia Sophia, was "secularists" and became a museum.

No longer an active mosque, the Hagia Sophia still sets aside a place for Muslims to pray at the insistence of the conservative Muslim leadership in the society. This does not limit the hours that they are open to the steady flow of tourists, who can move freely throughout this beautiful cathedral and admire the mosaics and the architecture. Hagia Sophia is preserved with it's Arabic inscriptions and Muslim architectural features added on to a Christian building filled with Christian art. We could not help but be transported back to the Mosque of Cordoba where the same thing happened but in the other direction, i.e. Christians preserved a mosque but set a Catholic cathedral inside it!

This is in all contrast to the Sultanahnet Camil, aka, the Blue Mosque, an equally impressive sacred space which is still an active worshipping community. There the hours for viewing are in three blocks, with the rest of the day devoted to prayer. The tourists are limited to one side of the mosque, which gives you a chance to appreciate the expanse of the mosque and beauty of its architecture without the tourists in every corner. The sacred quality of the space is easier to appreciate. As a result, the Blue Mosque made a deeper impression on me (Wayne).

We are looking forward to experiencing these sacred spaces again with the Starr King group before we leave Turkey and expect that this will be a different and deepening experience.

(a P.S. we are having trouble posting even single photographs with the blog texts this week, and haven't managed to figure out how to take time to post pictures to any of our Facebook sites. We have been taking some beautiful images of these places and look forward to finding time to organize them and appropriate contexts to share them when we return.)

Location:Istanbul, Turkey

Friday, November 25, 2011

At the Crossroads November 25, 2011

The places we have travelled on this sabbatical so far have been countries we expected would have complementary cultures and would give us different but complementary experiences of the Muslim, Christian, and Jewish worlds in interaction. Andalusian Spain was an immersion into history, in the European culture most influenced by the shifting influences of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity as their faiths were proclaimed in their periods of political and cultural dominance. Jerusalem is a prisoner of its history in many ways. It wants to be a world city welcoming the faithful and the curious from around the globe. It is courted and claimed by two nationalities to be their capital. Like the Anselm Kiefer artwork we wrote about in our last post, Jerusalem's Old City is a vessel trying to hold within its walls the holy yearnings of three faiths, and when you try to compress God into that small a vessel, it cannot help but shatter.

And now we are at a crossroads - Istanbul! Where Europe and Asia meet! Where Constantine declared Byzantium the New Rome and Capital of Christianity, where Sephardic Jews fled from Spain, where the most sophisticated Muslim democracy on the planet shows the world it can be done! We sent our first evening exploring Istikan Street in the New District, as exciting a shopping and walking street as any we have ever seen anywhere, even the Ramblas in Barcelona.

We arrived here on the last leg of our journey on a day that feels just like home in Kate November, 45 degrees and overcast with a chilly wind. Walking on a beach in Tel Aviv seems far away, though it was just yesterday. Traveling within just a few days between Palestine and Israel and into Turkey, we are very aware if the privilege our skin color and passports afford us. We travel freely in the world in a way so many people we have met can only dream about. When we reach a crossroads with a checkpoint, we are assisted in passing through and knowing which way to go. When we come to a body of water, we are ferried over to the other side. From a viewpoint high atop Galata Tower, we are amazed to see Europe and Asia reaching towards each other across the Bosporus, and amazed at how easily we have come to be here at this crossroads.

Location:Istanbul, Turkey

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Anselm Kiefer's "Breaking of the Vessels" (Shevirat Ha-Kelim)




On Wednesday, November 23, we walked to the Tel Aviv Museum of Art, not realizing that the current show included a show of recent work by German born artist Anselm Kiefer, one of our favorite artists. The Cleveland Museum of Art owns his massive work entitled "Lot's Wife", and we visit this canvass whenever we are in the museum.

When you stand in front of a Kiefer painting, you feel as if you have just stepped into a post-apocalyptic world where little is left but shards of objects left abandoned in pools of drying, cracking paint.There is something about nothingness that connects with the empty spaces inside one's spirit-- and for me, no artist makes that connection better than Kiefer.

His show, entitled "Breaking of the Vessels", was inspired from, among other things, the Jewish mystical book "The Kabbalah." A Kabbalistic creation story says that God compressed Godself to create the world, but the vessels could not contain the light of God and shattered. The namesake work in this show was created by Kiefer in a room built especially for this show, and features his familiar lead books surrounded by and interpenetrated by broken shards of glass. Are the vessels the books of scripture? Are they the ideas, beliefs, and stories they contain? How are they broken? is God still there in the shattered remnants?

The themes of the other works in the show are often Biblical; such as the companion paintings "Noah" and "Ararat"; "Cain and Abel", and "The Salt of the Earth." We were astonished at our good luck at finding once again on our sabbatical path an exceptional temporary show from an artist we love.

Location:Tel Aviv

Colonel Dani Tirza & Rev. Wayne Arnason

This is a picture of Colonel Dani Tirza and Wayne Arnason.


We wanted to include this picture in the previous post, but unfortunately did not post with the text.

Location:Jeruslaem

The Man Who Built The Wall November 22, 2011

When our friends at the Jewish Federation of Cleveland offered us an opportunity to tour the Israeli Security Fence and Wall with a member of the Israeli Defense Forces, we jumped at the chance. With so many days behind us of hearing about the suffering and inconveniences that the security fence has brought to the lives of Palestinians, we wanted to understand as completely as possible the rationale for this wall from the perspective of the Israeli government and military. Never did we imagine that our guide for this tour would be the retired IDF Colonel Dani Tirza, the officer who had overall responsibility for the building and management of the fence and wall from 2002 to 2007. Over two hours, we had a chance to get acquainted with this congenial and articulate man, and hear his stories about what it meant to him to be given authority over this project.

Readers of this blog need to be warned of about a couple of things. First, this will be a longer post than any we have written, because we took thorough notes, and we want to present without editing the information Colonel Tirza offered us. Second, there are some premises that Colonel Tirza begins from, (and that the government of Israel and most Jewish Israelis and most Jewish Americans begin from) which we did not challenge and which this conversation was not about. Those premises include:
1) the religious premise that the land of Israel was given to the Jews by God 2) the political premise that Jerusalem is the capital of Israel and is one city, reunited aft the Six Day War, which Israelis have a right to live in, both in the West and in the East.
3) the legal premise that Israeli law and not international law, determines what happens with settlements in what the international community sees as the Occupied Territories.

If you begin from these premises, which represent Israeli government policy, then there is a logic to the orders you receive as a leader in the Israeli military. Insofar as this blog post is being read by our Interfaith Peace Builders Delegation, we offer it as a perspective reflecting one of the most informed Israeli responses to frequent questions we had as we experienced the fence and wall from the Palestinian side. While we asked some challenging questions, we did not challenge these basic premises above, premises that the state of Israel is built upon, whereas most of the speakers and activists we met while inside the West Bank did challenge all of those premises, and begin from a different narrative. In a separate blog post, Kathleen has written at length about these two narratives.

This is exactly where Colonel Tirza began his tour: by acknowledging that Israel and the Palestinians have quite different narratives about the land they share and how the conflict about it came to the point where the security fence was built. He is well informed about the Palestinian narrative, although he presents it differently than some of the Palestinians we have heard from, especially those whose political positions may have evolved since 2007. Colonel Tirza was one of the senior officers negotiating directly with Yasser Arafat and the PLO negotiating team in the late 90's. Arafat called him the "father of maps". He was part of the sixteen member Israeli delegation at Camp David in July 2000 when Arafat turned down a final offer from Ehud Barack.

After the July 2000 Camp David Summit ended jn failure, the situation on the ground deteriorated quickly. On September 28, 2000, Likud leader Ariel Sharon visited the Temple Mount where the Muslim holy sites are located. The next day at protest demonstrations at the Western Wall the Israeli police used live ammunition and demonstrators were killed. Two weeks later, two Israeli soldiers who had mistakenly entered Palestinian territory jn Ramallah were brutally murdered. The violence of the the Second Intifada escalated and claimed many lives over the next two years.

As he described the events of 2000, we were standing at Gilo, an Israeli settlement inside the West Bank that overlooks the Palestinian towns of Beit Jallah and Bethlehem. This is where Colonel Tirza began his security fence work. The settlement is within rifle range of homes in Beit Jallah and homes were frequently shot at after 2000. Tirza built his first protective concrete barriers here. From the Gilo security tower overlook, we could see what came next, the security fence, the wall, and the checkpoint on the main road to Bethlehem.

The worst month for the Israelis during the Second Intifada was March 2002 when around 130 lives, mostly civilian, were lost. The Israelis responded with Operation Defensive Shield, shutting down the West Bank and laying siege to Arafat's headquarters in Ramallah. Colonel Tirza described the intense political pressure that month on now Prime Minister Sharon to keep Israeli civilians safe. Almost all Israelis wanted some kind of security separation. Colonel Tirza was charged at that time with creating a security fence that would limit the ability of people intending to do violence to access Israel at any point, and allow controlled access both ways for people (Palestinians, tourists) who had economic and medical reasons to cross the fence.

Tirza said that the mission he was given was to include as many Israelis as possible, regardless of where they live, inside a security fence without dismantling any Palestinian houses. Where he had forty-five available meters of space to build the several components of a security fence barrier with sensors and a patrol road, that was the preferred option. Where he did not have that kind of space available, because of legally recognized privately owned land or topography, or where a fence would involve dangerous routine interaction between Israeli soldiers and civilians, he had to build a wall instead. Colonel Tirza points out that of the 726 kilometers he built, less than 5 per cent of it is wall. He prefers to call the entire system a "security fence". In deference to presenting this point of view, this is the name we will use as well for the rest of this report. The elaborate sensor system and monitoring involved in the fence enables The IDF to know immediately that there is a breach and to investigate and deal with it while the person breaching is still within the forty five meters between the first fence and second fence. The wall is a much more crude security tool.

He pointed out that the goal of the project in his mind was security and nothing else. To illustrate, he told us stories of his discussion with then-Senator Obama at the same Gilo observation site where we were standing. Obama challenged him, saying he believed that the fence annexed Palestinian land. Tirza denies this, and told several stories to us about complex negotiations to avoid cutting off land or displacing any people. He also insisted that the entire fence and wall could and should be dismantled when there is a peace settlement.

The stories Colonel Tirza wanted to tell us were ones that illustrated both the engineering and human rights difficulties of constructing the fence and how he had to deal with both. He took us to a popular walkway overlooking Jerusalem from the south, one we had visited three weeks before with our Palestinian guide. During this earlier visit, our guide's goal had been to point out a large modern settlement built inside East Jerusalem (illegally from the perspective on international law) and how difficult the roads and security for that settlement has made the lives of the residents of the neighboring Palestinian village. Our guide also pointed out one group of houses that had been isolated by the security fence and had to go through a checkpoint just to leave their homes. From the same viewpoint, Colonel Tirza's goal was to show us how integrated a city Jerusalem is from his perspective. His goal and charge was to separate Jerusalem from West Bank, not to divide Jerusalem. He had nothing to say about the settlement nearby. For him it is a "neighborhood" of a united Jerusalem. The story he told us of the group of houses isolated by the fence was a story of extraordinary effort on his part to make sure these families could remain in their houses and have access to the routines if their lives, at great expense to the Israeli government.

In a similar vein, the story he told us the checkpoint he built on the road to Jerusalem was a story of the ultimate success of an administrative engineering task, making the checkpoint as efficient as possible over a couple of years of trial and error and budget struggles. The task and goal he had was to have the checkpoint for a Palestinian who commutes from Bethlehem to Jerusalem to work with the correct papers to involve no more than twenty minutes of time. Ten thousand people a day pass through this checkpoint currently. For Palestinians, the nightmare they describe to us is the one involved jn what it means to have "the correct papers" and who can get them.

We asked about blocking the Jericho road from Jerusalem, and isolating Rachel's tomb. The answers were easy. There wasn't enough available room at the Jericho road to build a proper checkpoint and a detour from the familiar road was necessary. Rachel's Tomb in Bethlehem is a Jewish holy site only, and Jews and Christians have a right to access it easily and safely. He minimized the traffic issues for the Bethlehem residents, saying that people became accustomed to a new traffic pattern. In East Jerusalem, Colonel Tirza believes that most Palestinian residents would prefer to be inside Israel as citizens jn any settlement, and would prefer the democratic freedoms within Israel to living in a Palestinian state.

We asked Colonel Tirza about the most frequent complaint we heard in the West Bank about the impact of the fence in rural areas, and this was that it cut off access to agricultural land, often olive groves, that families had worked for generations. His response was framed within the context of Israeli law, which often doesn't recognize land claims that are not documented adequately, a frequent problem for Palestinians. Where there are documentable land claims, he said that a compensation fund was established to pay for loss of agricultural income or the value of expropriated land. He acknowledged eighty per cent of Palestinians entitled to money from this fund turn it down as a matter of principal, since it would recognize the right of the Israelis to build the fence jn the first place. He also described a trial and error process if establishing permits for access across the fence to land, and acknowledged that in the early years the system had not worked well, but was now improved, and that farmers separated from their land had daytime access to it, provided their security record was clear (something that many Palestinian men don't have due to widespread enlistment in Palestinian militias and the likelihood of arrest during the two intifadas.)

Colonel Tirza said there was a legal process to dispute the path of the fence and he had personally testified jn 124 of them during his career. Only four cases had gone against him . He said he had learned lessons from those cases, both about legal issues he had not taken into account and about humanitarian rationales for changing the path of the fence that had not been considered. Sometimes, he said, the fence had been relocated as part of a deal to settle a complaint, and not because the legal or human rights issue had been decided. He described Bil'in as such a case. He was also dismissive of the situation depicted in the film "Budrous", saying it became a convenient cause for left wing groups at home and abroad to rally around and that the trees involved had never been illegally or inappropriately destroyed.

Colonel Tirza's does bristle at the label applied to the fence as an "apartheid wall", although he did not directly refute this label with a direct comparison to South Africa. He described the differences between his fence and the Berlin Wall, particularly the difference that the fence is not armed with soldiers who shoot those trying to breach it. Their goal is to capture those breaching the fence and to send them back.

Colonel Dani Tirza is a man who is proud and satisfied with the work he did, although he retired before the security fence was completed. For him, the reason for his satisfaction is easy to point to. From 2000 to 2007, there were 1074 Israeli civilians killed in attacks inside Israel originating from the West Bank. From 2007 when his work in the most important elements of the security fence was completed, until the present day, there have been 18 people killed in attacks from the West Bank. The security fence works, he says. Colonel Tirza doesn't believe that this drop in deaths or the level of violence has much to do with any changes in political strategies within the Palestinian Authority or groups.

At the same time, Dani Tirza says that if there was a permanent settlement to the conflict, he would like to be the first person to start tearing down the fence. He says he has friends on the other side, in both the Palestinian military and in civilian life. He encourages his children to understand Arab culture and to be prepared to live in a Jewish state that is nevertheless bi-cultural. We were very grateful that Colonel Tirza would give us this time and courtesy. It is an indication of the value that he places on encouraging understanding among American opinion makers of the decisions Israel has made, and that he has made. We hope that thus report has presented them accurately.

Location:Jerusalem

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Tale of Two Narratives

This afternoon we sat in a coffee shop and lunch bistro, enjoying the afternoon sun of Tel Aviv. Tel Aviv is a very dynamic, active and sophisticated city; with modern architecture, great restaurants, an impressive art museum, and a beautiful beach. As I sat there basking in the beauty of the day and enjoying a great cup of coffee, I had another, darker though: what if someone walked into this restaurant and blew himself up? My thoughts were not entirely unfounded, as that is exactly what happened during the Second Intifada (uprising) when over 5500 Palestinians and over 1100 Israelis, as well as 64 foreigners lost their lives in the bloody conflict. I began to understand better the level of fear and paranoia that haunted Israeli society, especially when civilians, children, and high school students were killed.

Yesterday we met with Dani Tirza, the Israel Defence Forces Colonel who was the architect of "The Wall," or the Separation Barrier. He began his talk with us by discussing two different narratives; the Israeli narrative and the Palestinian. I am going to tell it at some length here because we have heard similar versions of the same narrative told by both Palestinians and Israelis. Dani began recounting the Israeli narrative by going all the way back to Abraham--that God gave the land to the Jews (From Genesis 15: 17-19: When the sun had set and darkness had fallen, a smoking firepot with a blazing torch appeared and passed between the pieces. On that day the LORD made a covenant with Abram and said, “To your descendants I give this land, from the Wadi[a] of Egypt to the great river, the Euphrates— the land of the Kenites, Kadmonites, 20 Hittites, Perizzites, Rephaites, Amorites, Canaanites, Girgashites and Jebusites".) Our story, he said is that we are the Jews; God promised this land to us, and we came back to rehabilitate this land. There were no Arabs living on this land at that time. By the end of the 19tth century, there were not many Arabs here; it was an empty land. There are different stories about how many random tribes were living here, but some say about 300,000 people." (Similarly, when we spoke with the Jewish Settler at Hebron, he told us that although there were Arabs here, they were not a people, and there certainly was no Palestine; just villages, living in tribes.)

Dani continues his narrative from the Israeli perspective: "We came to this land and invited Jews from all over the world to come and participate in the building of this land, the creation of roads and towns. We invited non-Jews & Arabs to work here and to take part in the economic productivity. However, when we were attacked by the Arab countries in 1947, we fought back. They wanted to erase Israel from the map, but we won the war and Israel was built. In 1967, the Egyptians, Syrians and Jordanians wanted to "throw Jews to the Mediterranean," but we fought back again and established a strong nation."

Dani continued: "The Palestinians have a different narrative. The Palestinians do not believe that the Jews should be a nation; that there should be no state for a religion. They will not recognize Israel as a Jewish state. So, they are hoping that Israel will simply vanish from the area. They have a phrase "suppr" which means, patience. "The Jews will go away--but we will help them go away." So, they tried to get rid of us. In 1967, Israel tried to reclaim its borders, but the Palestinians say that they are living under an illegal occupation. These are two different narratives that cannot be reconciled. They compose a belief system; and you cannot compromise your belief system."

While attending the Interfaith Peace Builders delegation, we heard a very different narrative from our Palestinian hosts. To list the details of the narrative would be too long; but here is a summary: We have always lived on this land. We have been farmers, olive tree growers, and caretakers of this land. After the British mandate ended, the Jews decided to claim this land for themselves. We welcomed them, but began to feel the encroachment of the expansion. Then, the start of the 1948 Palestinian War--or as Israel calls it, the War of Independence. As a result, the Nakbah ("catastrophe") occured, which was when during the 1948 Palestine War, an estimated 700,000 Palestinians were expelled or fled, and hundreds of Palestinian villages were depopulated and destroyed. The vast majority of Palestinian refugees, both those outside the 1949 armistice lines at the war's conclusion and those internally displaced, were barred by the newly declared state of Israel from returning to their homes or reclaiming their property. (just as an aside: On 23 March 2011, the Knesset approved,
by a vote of 37 in favor to 25 against, a change to the Government budget, giving the Israeli Finance Minister the discretion to reduce government funding to any non-governmental organization (NGO) that organizes Nakba commemoration events).

The Israelis won the war, and the Armistice lines were drawn. Since that time, the Israeli's continue to expand their presence, ignoring the "Green Line," and taking valuable resources such as water to provide for Jewish settlers. After the Second Intifada, the Israelis have made their lives miserable, by restricting their freedoms and access to their farm lands because of "the wall." Going to school, hospitals, or work is next to impossible. They feel that the Jews are trying to crush Palestinian culture and are doing everything in their power to slowly squeeze them out of the land, so that they eventually will just leave. As one speaker put it "Israel holds every aspect of our life hostage."

So, what's the "right narrative?" These two narratives belie a belief system that is deeply tied to history, land, tribes, loyalty, national pride, hope and of overcoming great hardships regardless of oppression. Certainly the way to peace is not through the re-telling of these narratives. Even as this story was being written in the hotel lobby, Kathleen got into an argument with a (presumably) Jewish gentleman whose narrative was "the Palestinian leaders are corrupt; they don't care about their people; Palestinians have freedom of movement;they can do whatever they want, but they don't want to live in a civilized society..." I (Kathleen) know this narrative to be false. Some of the more radical Israeli's that we spoke with have a narrative about Palestinians that is a product of the Israeli media; not based on real relationships.

At the same time, in discussing their narratives with the Palestinians, I did not hear a chorus of Palestinians speaking out against the terrorist attacks of the intifada, saying: "the killing of Jewish people is wrong; the suicide bombers were wrong; the loss of Jewish lives is a tragedy."

What I did hear said, more often than not, was "yes, but look at what the Israeli's did to us..." And then, I heard the Israeli's say, "the suicide bombers and terrorist attacks forced our hand; so what we do to Palestinians who may be terrorists is justifed. The Wall is part of National Security." What I longed to hear someone say is: the killing of each other's children, the murder of our citizens; whether Israeli soldiers or Palestinian teenagers is wrong and it can't continue. It doesn't matter how many bodies were piled up on each side of the Green Line; it doesn't matter whose blood was spilled. It matters that we stop the murder; the stereotypes, re-telling the same narrative over and over again. . Perhaps when both the Israeli and Palestinian leaders can speak as forcefully against murder, oppression and tyranny-- maybe then, we can find a way towards a lasting peace."


Location:Jerusalem

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Masada and the Dead Sea November 21, 2011




We cut short our visit to Beit Shean to insure that we could squeeze in a day to visit the Masada National Park, one of Israel's World Heritage sites, and to float in the Dead Sea! Many friends had encouraged us not to miss these experiences, and we are so glad we made the time. Kathleen especially finds desert landscapes compelling, and her own reflections are below. Wayne was impressed with the natural beauty, but also by the way that Masada holds two important human needs at one time. The first need is to understand our past. With the amazing ruins of Herod's palace in partial restoration, and illustrated by models, Masada represents one of the world's greatest ancient sites.

The story of the Jewish revolt against Rome around 70 CE and the decision to die by suicide as free people, rather than surrender and be slaves to Rome, is about more than history, however. It is also about the national "myth" of Israel. A national myth is the second important human need. Notice that the word "myth" is used here not to refer to events that are made-up. The events at Masada really happened, of course. "Myth" refers to the interpretation of these events to inform contemporary Israelis, especially youth, of their national heritage, and what it might call require from them. This is especially important for a country with compulsory military service and the ever present possibility that soldiers might sacrifice their lives in service to their country.


We noticed youth groups scattered around the site being taught passionate lessons from Masada. These were Wayne's thoughts as he contemplated the amazing landscape and ruins high atop the plateau overlooking the Dead Sea.

Desert Spirit/Dead Sea-(Kathleen)



Less than twenty miles outside of Jerusalem you can find yourself in the Judaean wilderness--the place where it is believed Jesus fasted for forty days and passed the temptation tests. No wonder Jesus took to these hills often to get away from the crowds, to think and to pray, because there is so little there. There is something about a landscape with nothing in it that brings one's life into sharp focus; for here there can be no distractions. There is only you, the rolling hills with rocks and sand, and your Spirit. As we rode both to and from Masada, the desert wilderness was a powerful, silent companion.


The other silent Presence was the Dead Sea. Our tour included a dip in the so-called Dead Sea because it is so full of salt that no marine life can live in it. I did not expect it to be as beautiful as it was--it looked as alive and fresh as the Sea of Galilee. Everyone told me about what it is like to "swim" in the Dead Sea, but as Joni Mitchell once wrote: "people will tell you where they've been; they'll tell you where to go, but till you get there yourself you never really know." With so much salt holding you up, it's impossible NOT to float. As I floated with no effort on my part, I had the feeling of being held up by invisible hands, and being gently but firmly buoyed by a Presence that would not let me down or drown.

Afterwards, we watched the sun set over the Dead Sea. In the background, lay the hills of Jordan; and behind us, the Judean wilderness. More so than any of the cities we've been in, Masada, the Dead Sea and the hills outside Jerusalem were the places where my spirit felt most at home.

Location:טיילת שלמה להט,Tel Aviv,Israel

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Meeting Some Israeli Heroes November 20, 2011

With the important place that the military holds in Israeli society, it would be easy presume that this would be the place to look for heroes in Israel. However, with the help of the Jewish Federation of Cleveland, we have spent a day with some Israeli heroes who probably don't get the recognition they deserve. They are the staff and volunteers of Bridge to The Future, a program building social capital across lines of social class, race, and culture in Beit Shean, just south of the Sea of Galilee. The program is one of the P2K (Partnership 2000) connections that have built a supportive friendship between Cleveland's Jewish community and this city of 18,000.

Our host during our day in Beit Shean, Orna Badar, proudly showed us two recent changes in Beit Shean neighborhoods that demonstrate what can happen when a local community is empowered. A community center has been established with meeting rooms and a playground, and a lower income neighborhood has safer and more attractive walkway corridors among their houses. Bridge to the Future's philosophy involves working on four areas of social capital: human resources, economic assets, Infrastructure, and political strength. Neighborhoods are encouraged to decide what they need most, and to take responsibility for making it happen.

Bridge to the Future's model was based on work that Orna did with an Arab village called Jazer-Ezarke, located on the other side of the country near Caesarea. Over six years she has worked on capacity-building projects with the residents of this village. Orna told us that such a project always had a time frame and was never intended to be permanent presence jn the village. We talked candidly and in depth about the cultural differences that make this work challenging. Finally, we heard about a project we could not visit since it is primarily about relationship building: the Transjordan Border Initiative, which created connections between Israeli Arab and Jewish women and Jordanian women.

Over lunch with Jonah Herzel, the director of these neighborhood based programs, we heard how building leadership, responsibility, and credibility within neighborhoods increases the willingness of governmental agencies to direct more resources towards these neighborhoods.

Orna also took us to see two of the economic drivers of Beit Shean, of which they are very proud. Beit Shean's nickname is "the gate to the Garden of Eden" and at Eden Farms, Sion Deko proudly showed us how the way God designed a growing season is being extended by new greenhouse technologies using passive solar heating that enable a year round growing season. They are also doing ground breaking research on stopping weevil damage to date palms, that date farmers around the world are watching with great interest.

The second economic driver for this area is tourism, and we enjoyed the new tourist reception center that awaits tourists coming to see one of Israel's most extensive Roman ruins, located right inside Beit Shean. Rain prevented us from having more than an overview from the viewpoint, but we were very impressed with the accessibility of the site and the knowledge of the guide.

At dinner we we met by Beit Shean native Lior Balavie, who took us to dinner and showed us gracious hospitality. We talked with him at length, not only about the programs he oversees that connects Beit Shean with the Jewish Federation of Cleveland, but about his personal story.

Later that evening, Lior took us to meet two women who would not consider themselves "heroes," but whose passion and commitment to their work and community is remarkable. We had coffee at the home of Chava, an Ethiopian Jew who emigrated to Israel in the early 90's. Ethiopian Jews trace their ancestry from Biblical times when, as Jews, they were forced to flee the land now called Israel to Egypt, and then eventually settled in Ethiopia. As Ethiopians, they really didn't fit in because of their Jewish identity. When some of them realized that their ancestry entitled them to be included in Israel's mission, to take care of Jews all over the world, they began a long journey through Ethiopia and Sudan to come to Israel.

Also in the room was Talia. Talia had lived much of her life on a kibbutz, but when she met Chava and became involved with the Ethiopian women of Beit Shean, she got excited about starting a theater group with the women. The "plays" would be created from the women's stories and there would be no professional actors but the women themselves. The theater group served several purposes; it gave the Ethiopian women an opportunity to tell their stories; it provided a place of support and connection, and it helped to forge deep bonds of friendship between women whose cultural differences may have been insurmountable.

For Chava, her Jewish identity was indisputable; and being in Israel had given her an opportunity to both practice her faith and to thrive. For Talia, her relationships with these women have been a bridge across cultural differences to understand and celebrate part of her own Jewish identity.

Meeting the staff and volunteers who are doing all this work in Beit Shean and seeing the difference it can make was very inspiring. These are the kinds of heroic projects that will build and heal Israel from the inside.

Location:Beit Shean