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

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Finding Elijah November 19 , 2011 from Kathleen Rolenz




The prophet Elijah's presence still lingers over Haifa, and particularly on Mt.Carmel, Several thousand years ago, Mt. Carmel was just a high place that overlooked the Mediterranean Sea. It became famous in the Hebrew scriptures as the place where Elijah had his dramatic showdown with the followers of Baal (I Kings 18:21) Just below Mt.Carmel is the cave where tradition says Elijah lived. Today it is a Jewish devotional space dedicated to Elijah.

As we entered, we saw that the cave was divided into two sections; women went left and men went right. Around the cave where displays of Hebrew texts that I could not read. At the back of the cave, covered by a large red velvet curtain, was the "holy of holies," where Elijah may have slept, or meditated. What unique about this place was how simple it was; there were no giant basilicas built over this spot; instead, the rough walls and simple display seemed in keeping with the spirit of Elijah; a rough-hewn and plainspoken prophet.

As we walked down the hill from Elijah's mountain, we read aloud some of the more dramatic episodes of Elijah's career; his triumph over the prophets of Baal; his infamous quarrels with Jezebel and his near death experiences (literally!) when his own people rebelled against him. And yet, what he is best remembered for is the passage describing his encounters not with the wind, or the fire, or an earthquake even, but the still, small voice that spoke to him and asked "what are you doing here, Elijah?" Standing in Elijah's cave--peering out into the growing darkness , I could almost imagine the lonely prophet asking me the same question: "What are you doing here, Kathleen?"

"Finding you, Elijah." I would have replied, and so I did.

Location:Haifa, Israel

Friday, November 18, 2011

Shabbat with the Norwegians November 18, 2011

We were chatting with a Norwegian couple in the dining room of our hotel in Arbel, and let them know that our next stop was Haifa. "We live in Haifa now, " they said. "We are volunteering at Scandinavia House. You should come join us for Shabbat Dinner tonight."

It was an offer we couldn't refuse, and the date seemed meant-to-be when we discovered the hotel we had booked on-line three months ago was located only a block from Scandinavia House. This lovely house was the home of the Tansbergs, who years ago opened it up as a place of hospitality in Haifa for Scandinavians and anyone else traveling to Haifa. Each Friday evening, residents, friends, and guests off the street like us gather at one long table for a Shabbat liturgy, songs, and a delicious meal.

Since our first two Fridays in Israel were jn Palestinian communities, this was our first Israeli Shabbat. We enjoyed everything about it, but especially the conversations afterwards. An evangelical Protestant from Ecuador began trying to explain the difference between Catholic and Protestant theology to one of our Jewish liturgy leaders. Wayne couldn't help chiming in with some explanations of the spectrum of Protestant belief. That got us involved with more theological conversations with our Norwegian friends, who turned out to be Pentecostal!

We heard some of the history of Pentecostalism in Norway, and our friend's personal born-again story. On the walk home, another of the Norwegians engaged us intensely wanting to understand what we believed about the doctrine of atonement and what we believe. He was taken aback to discover we didn't worry about whether there is a life after this one. We parted as friends and look forward to meeting them all again for coffee later. Who would have thought a Shabbat meal in Israel would end like this?

Location:Haifa, Israel

At the Sea of Galilee




Hiking the Jesus Trail was a pilgrimage that ends at the Sea of Galilee and Capernaum, which was the home base for much of Jesus' ministry. I had anticipated this part of the trip to be completely commercialized, with signs pointing towards real or imagined places of Jesus ministry. I expected an almost Disney-land type commercialism, i.e., "Jesus slept here!!" Thankfully, there was nothing of the kind. Beginning at the place where Jesus "may" have preached his famous Sermon in the Mount, we started walking what's called the Pilgrims' Walkway to Capernaum, a once thriving fishing village of 15,000 but now is only a well maintained site of ruins, a contemporary church, and a destination for tourists and pilgrims.

The Pilgrim's Walkway was paved with stones, and runs alongside the Sea of Galilee. Between the sidewalk and the sea there were no falafel stands or souvenir shops; just agricultural land and a nature preserve housing birds, plants and small trees. The walk from the Mount of Beatitudes to Capurnum took an easy half hour and for almost the entire walk we were the only two on the path. As tour buses roared past us on the highway above, we strolled in peace and quiet along the sea that was so much a part of Jesus' ministry. It is here where he called Simon Peter and Andrew to be his disciples; here where he healed and preached and taught, here around this Sea is where he fed the five thousand. As we walked, I began to read out loud the Beatitudes:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven;
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted....


Although the day was heavy with cloud cover, the sun broke through the clouds to illumine, and...I kid you not...a couple of fishing boats that were on the lake. For a moment we could have been transported back to Jesus time, hearing nothing but the wind and seeing only two lone fisherman, checking their nets. I felt closer to the person and story of Jesus there, on that simple walk to Capurnum than I had in Jerusalem or in any of the other places where Jesus was said to be.


Arriving at Capernaum, we found a park-like setting, remains of a synagogue built on the same synagogue site where Jesus must have prayed, and a surprisingly beautiful contemporary church constructed over ruins of a home from Jesus' time. We found ourselves alone in the church, gazing past the altar at the Sea Of Galilee, through the clear windows behind it, and had a chance to meditate and pray. Our Jesus Trail hike was complete, for I had met Him. Where. Not in any of the churches commemorating his miracles. it was on the Pilgrim's Walkway, while reading the words he spoke and seeing the sights that he too, must have seen. -- submitted by Kathleen Rolenz

Location:Capurnum

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Meeting a "Unitarian" Druze

On Tuesday afternoon we hiked up to the famous Druze temple at Nebi Shu'eib, a holy site for members of the Druze religion. Sitting close to the Horns of Hattin (two mountain peaks)


the temple is an immense and breathtaking building that serves as the "Mecca" for the faithful Druze. It is the holiest site and place of Pilgrimage for Druze all over the world. We were reminded that this Holy Land has major pilgrimage sites, not only for the Children of Abraham, but for the smaller faiths that have emerged from them, notably for Druze and Bahai.

The Druze religion dates back to the 10th century as an offshoot of the Ismaeli branch of Islam. They believe in the major prophets of the three monotheistic faiths, and also incorporate some aspects of Buddhism into their theology. They call themselves the "People of Unitarianism" because of their fierce commitment to monotheism.

We came to the temple mid-day, after hiking uphill for over an hour. After being greeted by a man who spoke no English, he told us to wait a moment as he found someone for us to talk to. Wayne introduced us as Unitarian pastors from the United States; and with the mention of the word "Unitarian" he nodded as if in recognition. After removing our shoes, we entered the mosque and were told a brief story of the Druze and why this particular site is a place for pilgrims.



The insights and practices of the Druze religion are known only to initiates. The Druze believe that the bones of Jethro, who was Moses' father-in-law, are buried in the rock wall. In front of the rock wall was a tomb/sarcophagus covered in a green cloth, that devotees, pilgrims and prayer-ers can touch. We were invited to pray if we wished, and then our host left us alone in this magnificent temple.

Both of us were amazed to find this unique gem of a building, as well as discovering a faith tradition who also call themselves "Unitarians." We have no doubt, however, that there are such profound differences between our respective faiths that any Druze coming to worship at West Shore would probably not recognize our Unitarianism. Nevertheless, we were deeply moved to have been so graciously welcomed into their "holy of holies," to talk, to visit and to pray.

Location:Mt.Arbel, Israel

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Two Conversations with Israelis about "Arabs" -November 14, 2011

Our hike on the "Jesus Trail" has taken us out of the cities and towns where Palestinians are in the majority into Jewish towns and villages, some of them with histories going back to the early days of Zionist immigration into Israel, many of them adjacent to the ruins of Palestinian villages that were "de-populated" or "abandoned" in the 1948 war and subsequently destroyed. In one of these villages we had a chance to talk in some depth to two under-40 Israelis, a woman and a man, about their take on "the conflict".

We notice immediately that most Jewish Israelis we have met refer not to "Palestinians" but instead "Arabs", something we think you learn to do from an early age as part of the Israeli socialization that there is no Palestine, only Israel.

The woman is candidly mournful and stuck in her despair about the conflict. One to one, in public contexts of daily life, she has cordial conversations and relationships with Palestinians. Her experience is that if she tries to take a relationship from the public sphere into a private space, she is politely rebuffed. She tells us a story about a great conversation with an Arab cab driver about an aspect of their lives they have in common. She invites him to bring his wife over to visit with her and her husband to explore a family decision each couple is facing. Maybe the conversation would be beneficial for both. "I don't think that would be possible", she is told.

In the second conversation later that day, a man shares with us his perceptions of Arab cultures, and countries, and the ways in which their behavior makes the conflict so intractable. Some of his insights are well- known and well- founded, while others seem stereotyped to us, even racist. It's clear that he has well formed opinions that Arab culture is prone to violence and is fragmented, still tribal, so that identified leaders are difficult to trust because you aren't sure who they speak for.

These two conversations have a familiar feel to them, reminding us of ones we have all the time with white liberals who feel stuck when it comes to "race relations" in the US. Very few have African American friends, and find that any public or professional relationships are difficult to move from the public to the private sphere. There is also a tendency to have many well-formed opinions about African American culture, and leaders. Like the Jewish Israelis we met, we may express our frustration through the heart or through the head, but in the end, we aren't sure what we, each, personally can do to change anything.

Location:Illaniya, Israel

Church of the Annunciation November 13, 2011

Nazareth's Basilica Church of the Annunciation is the second largest church in the Middle East, one of the newest (built in 1967), and in our eyes one of the most beautiful we have ever seen. The ground floor has a sunken circular worship area the grotto which represents the traditional site of Mary's home, where Catholics believe she was visit by the angel Gabriel. The circular worship area is centered under the dome of the Basilica above, and is open. The effect is to create a large well-like space in the altar area between the parishioners and the priests. In cathedrals this space is usually where the "choir" is - and this is not the place where the choir sits. It's an enclosed space for exclusive or smaller services. Having this well instead of a choir enhances the open feeling of this large sanctuary, but the opening in the floor makes it feel womb-like.


The sanctuary is surrounded by large and visually stunning artworks depicting the Virgin Mary, from all over the world, identified by country and artist. The two pieces given by the United States and Canada stood out for us, not only because of national sentimentality, but because each departed from the usual medium of mosaic that the other countries have used. The American Mary is commanding, almost stern, and her strength is emphasized by her silver grey gown that flows out of the frame in bas- relief. The Canadian Mary is entirely made of wood, we presume maple, and is abstract. The mother and child and human, animal, and plant shapes are evident but only suggested. Both were very striking pieces. We also loved the depictions of Mary from Asian and Latin American countries.

After sitting alone together in the sanctuary, meditating and praying in the early morning light, nobody but us, and Mary, (and a Franciscan monk setting up chairs in the altar area for the next mass! somebody has to do it!) it dawned on us why this Basilica radiated such spiritual depth and calm. Not only is it a feminine and feminist space, dedicated to the Great Mother as the Catholic tradition knows her, but there is no prominent crucifix anywhere in sight! We recalled the wonderful Rebecca Parker/Rita Nakashima Brock book "Saving Paradise" which proposes that the early Christian vision of their faith, before the doctrine of atonement became prominent, was that it was about connecting heaven and earth by making paradise on earth. We looked to the front of the church above the altar where the crucifix would normally hang. Sure enough, in this Basilica dedicated to Mary, there is a vision of paradise, a beautiful mosaic of Christ the King in Mary's company welcoming all to the new creation.



We left the church reluctantly, and just in time, as four tour groups were standing outside by then receiving their orientations to the exterior. We left feeling like we too had been visited by an angel in this sacred place, Mary's home.

Location:Nazareth

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Stepping off the Jesus Trail

This morning we started down the path of the Jesus Trail. We first
heard about the "Jesus Trail" from an article in The Cleveland Plain Dealer about 18 months ago. The Jesus Trail was the brainchild of two young adults and entrepreneurs, who blazed trails in the upper, mid and lower portions of the Galillee. The trail we started to hike was the "Classic" Jesus trail, running from Nazareth, through Cana, and ultimately to
Capernum. The trail begins in the old city of Nazareth, and winds up
some 406 steps (yes, we counted them all) to the top of the city. From there, we are taken through the city streets and modern, more plush suburbs of Nazareth, before leading up to the actual beginning of "the trail."

When we decided to do the Jesus Trail, my mind was full of images that
I think I must have picked up in the Good Shepherd Lutheran Bible School. I had imagined walking through bucolic fields, perhaps passing some shepherds tending their flocks (okay, that's a bit of a stretch, but at least a goat farmer or two), perhaps fig and olive trees swaying in the breeze--and what we found was that the trail began at the end of town, which housed...the dump. Trash. Everywhere. Old porcelin toilets jumbled
next to a pair of child's socks, broken toys, old springs, the guts of a trashed
computer. It became clear that unincorporated Nazareth had no formal 'dump" or recycling program or any place to put trash, so these Nazarenes living on the edge of town just took their trash to the nearest empty field and pitched it.

I was shocked, saddened and disappointed. These beautiful, rocky hills were strewn with trash. The picture I had in my mind of the hills of Galilee were permanently changed. At the same time, busting up stereotypes is part of what this trip has been about.

Before coming to the Middle East, I had worried about meeting
"the other," Palestinians in particular, and realized that I had succumbed to the Western media's portrayal of Arabs and Arab culture. As I sit here writing this, I am in a Israeli Arab Christians home, who speaks fluent Arabic, Hebrew and English. She's sitting on the couch watching the news, just as I do. She just made me a fabulous dinner. Their
children are playing in the family room below; the teenage son gave me a broad smile and a warm welcome; her great grandchild is as cute a kid as I have ever seen.

The images I've had in my head have been forever changed by the reality of this experience; and truth be told, I'll take reality over the fantasy; or, the media I've been fed, any day.

Location:Nazareth, Cana

The Miracle at Cana

Since the very first day we left for sabbatical, I have been writing
in a personal journal. On the bus from Jerusalem to Nazareth, I left the journal on the bus. Because it was the Sabbath, I couldn't call the lost and found number until Sunday morning, and by that time, I had given up all hope that I would be able to find the notebook. The journal was more precious to me than some of the gifts I had bought, because they captured the details of this sabbatical; the highs, the lows, the names of people and places. When I realized what I had done, I never believed I would see it again. Enter Marwa. Marwa is Muslim woman who works at the Fauzi Azur Inn in Nazareth and when I explained my dilemma to her, she smiled, picked up the phone and made some calls. My book HAD been found on the bus, had been rturned to the bus station in Nazareth Ilit, the Jewish suburb in the hills above Nazareth.

To make matters more complicated, we were beginning our hike on the
Jesus trail the next morning, walking to Cana and spending the night at the Cana Wedding Guest House. "I live in Cana," she said. "I will pick up the book, and bring it to you."

That night, while eating dinner made by the lovely couple who own the
guest house, Marwa showed up, with my green leather bound journal. Her kindness and generosity; her willingness to go the extra mile, touched me deeply.

Although we are just steps away from the spot where Jesus famously
turned the water into wine; his first miracle some say, my biggest miracle was getting that journal back. It didn't take magic; just good old-fashioned human kindness.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Nazareth the Peaceful-November 12, 2011




We are back in Nazareth again, this time to begin our hike on the "Jesus Trail" across Galilee to Capernaum, the Sea of Galilee, and the Jordan River. We really love this city! It's without a doubt our favorite Israeli city, and it's no coincidence that this is because it's Israel's largest Arab majority city. The Palestinians make up 70 per cent of the population, and so the government has built a brand new Nazareth suburb two kilometers out that is Jews-only. A large number of the Palestinian Israeli citizens in Nazareth are Christians. As Jesus' "home town", and more importantly the site of the Annunciation, Nazareth attracts many Christian pilgrims, but also Jewish tourists who want to experience Arab Israel. Unlike Bethlehem in occupied Palestine, Nazareth is not filled with armed soldiers, and the ubiquitous presence of ultra-Orthodox Jews is also notably absent in Nazareth. The result is a relaxed culture where friendships and peace projects between Jews, Muslims, and Christians are possible and do flourish.



"If you, even you had recognized on this day the things that make for peace!!" said Jesus looking towards Jerusalem. Here in Jesus' home town the residents are actively trying to do the things that make for peace. Our tour guide ( a volunteer at the Fauzi Azur Inn) took us on a behind-the-scenes tour of Nazareth, which included a stop at a coffee shop where Muslims, Christians and Jews have played board games together since 1919. While we were drinking coffee and pomegranate lemonade, we heard the voices of men laughing and mock arguing with one another.

The things that make for peace are, obviously, relationships. Although there are no Jews living in Nazareth, they come to Nazareth to shop, to visit the very fine restaurants, and to experience the city. On our way home from dinner this evening, we passed by a building whose sign was written in Hebrew and Arabic. The symbol on the sign was a Menorah. We could not tell what the building housed, but we did feel that it represented, if even symbolically, the things that make for peace.

Location:Nazareth

Non-violent Resistance - November 11, 2011 Veterans Day

"What causes Israeli Society to do the things it is doing to us? How can we come to understand the Israeli people who continue to turn a blind eye to our suffering??" those were only two of the provocative questions that were posed to us during our 90 minute meeting with Sammi, founder of the non-violent program "Holy Land Trust." (HLT)

Holy Land Trust had four main areas of focus:
Resist the occupation
Build democracy
Create transformation in self and other through non-violent resistance
Develop and train leaders in non-violent techniques.

Our talk with Sami was perhaps one of the best of the entire trip; although all the speakers were top-notch. HLT was created after the 2nd Intifada (uprising) as an alternative to the violent acts of some members of Palestinian activist groups and Hamas. As Sami spoke about what they currently teach about non-violent resistance, I was flashing back to another one of our visits, to the tiny village of Bil'lin. While in Bil'in, our group did a home stay, sleeping on the floor of two homes in the village. Wayne and I stayed in the home of Rani, a young man who was shot and paralyzed by a snipers bullet during the 2nd Intifada.

The next morning, we awoke and walked to the wall that separates the residents of Bil'lin from their land. This wall has been the site of non-violent demonstrations at keast weekly for six years. International attention has been gained for these encounters between the soldiers who are there to protect both the wall and the Jewish settlement residents on the other side. Bil'lin activists were proud of a recent success-- because of demonstrations and taking their case to court, they were able to move the wall back 500 meters to allow farmers access to their olive trees. Many of the demonstrations we filmed: and they are well-known in the activist circles for their creativity. At the same time, there were times that the techniques used during the demonstration were not what I understand non-violence to mean. Sometimes the protesters got in the faces of soldiers, sometimes they threw dirt or shouted at them. They were clearly trying to provoke a response and usually they are prepared for tear gas at the least.



Non-violent activism in Palestine does mean different things to different people. For some, it means we don't try to hurt or kill anyone as an act of resistance. For others it means Ghandian non-violence. We never heard a Palestinian activist in all our interviews who would categorically condemn those who have used violence in the popular struggle. At the same time, we often heard, even in the towns and villages known for the intensity of their resistance, the statement that violent resistance has not worked and that non-violent resistance is the only way. It's an understanding that has come after the Palestinian people have paid a terrible price in retaliatory violence from the Israelis.

Location:Bethlehem/Bil'Lin

The Common Ancestor

We called our blog "The Children of Abraham" because he is the common ancestor revered in sacred text and story by the three world religions that come out of the Middle East. We had our chance to pay our respects at the site that most symbolizes that common heritage, the Tomb of the Patriarchs jn Hebron. We've described the Tomb in an earlier blog post, but what we didn't say is that after the massacre in the mosque in 1994, the Israeli government responded by dividing the mosque that has held the Tombs into two sections with separate entrances. Between a quarter and a third of the mosque became a Jewish synagogue. On the other side of the separating wall, you can still experience the integrity of the original architecture of the mosque.

The differences between the two sides are similar to what we experienced at the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. The Jewish side is filled with a joyful chaos of personal prayer, study, and tourism. There was a circumcision going on when we visited. The Moslem side is larger so it feels more spacious, but despite the tourists it was also a space that was quiet, inviting spiritual reflection.


The four main sarcophogi for Abraham, Sarah, Jacob and Rebekkah were originally inside the prayer hall of the mosque. Now, the Abraham and Sarah tombs have been enclosed by the separation wall so that Jews and Muslims can both see them through barred windows. Only Christians or pilgrims and tourists who don't identify as either Jewish or Muslim can visit both sides. From each side, you can catch glimpses of the people on the other side looking through the bars at the common ancestor they share.




We saw Abraham's Tomb as profoundly symbolic of what has happened in the "Holy Land". Violence, exclusive claims, and walls have separated Jews and Muslims from all that they hold in common. The members of the two communities come and go from their lives through separate doors, catching fleeting glimpses of the brother or sister who peers at them over Abraham's bones.

Location:Hebron, Palestine

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Ground Zero Hebron

The ancient Biblical city of Hebron, one of Palestine's largest cities, is truly a "ground zero" for the phase of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict that involves the settlements. It's in Hebron that an Orthodox rabbi and his followers checked into a hotel in 1971 (?) and refused to leave, forcing the Israeli government to accommodate them on land at Hebron's occupation military base. From that beginning, Hebron has attracted a relatively small group of the most ideological settlers who have expanded their presence into Hebron's Old City, and required many times more Israeli troops to guard them than their actual numbers.

Why is Hebron important to them? We met with a leader in the settler community to understand why. Hebron is Judaism's second holiest city, next to Jerusalem, because it has the Tomb of the Patriarchs. Abraham and Sarah, Jacob and Rebekkah are buried there. These patriarchs are holy figures to Islam as well, and their tombs were contained in a mosque to which Israelis could not travel. The Jewish community that lived in Hebron had been massacred or expelled by the Arab community in 1929. A fanatical settler, Baruch Goldstein, took his vengeance in 1979 by slaughtering Muslims at prayer in the mosque.

This legacy of violence has been inherited by a new generation of Hebron residents, and one of them, a young man named Issa who is an activist in the resistance to the occupation and the settlements, showed us around the Old City of Hebron. It is a ghost town. Divided by walls and barbed wire, watched by security cameras, towers, and checkpoints, the area's former economic activity and residential life has all but disappeared. Leaving the Muslim entrance area to the mosque through an elaborate cattle-pen of a checkpoint, we were suddenly inside Hebron's still-existing souk (market)
and could see that the Arab community there remained vital.

Even in the souk, however, the settlers presence is inescapable. The Israelis have confiscated nearby blocks for settler homes, shutting off the street to Palestinians. The backs of some of these buildings are the walls of the souk, with shops facing into the souk on the ground floor, and settlers above. The settlers have frequently thrown garbage and debris down into the souk, so that the shopkeepers have had to arrange for overhead fencing to insure that no one else could be hurt by the barrages.

Amidst conflicting narratives of pain, our host Issa was the only ray of hope that could be seen. His courage, and even joy, in sustaining his resistance, and his hope that it will not be in vain, was an inspiration and a challenge to all of us.

Location:Hebron, Palestine

Imagine a 3-D Map

Most of us have seen a 3-D map. We call them topographical maps and they can be portrayed in paper, but more accurately through a model. A fully realized topographical map can depict the changes in elevation of the land that is crossed by roads and dotted with settlements. A 3-D map is the only way to understand what the Israeli government's policy is creating through the forty years they have encouraged Jewish only suburbs, towns, and villages to be constructed and connected inside the occupied Palestinian territories.

A presentation we heard at the Alternative Information Center in Tel Aviv brought home two points that are critical to understanding Israeli policy: 1) Israel has no borders yet, and for the time being, wants it that way; and 2) the borders of Israel are being expanded eastward over top of the Palestinian West Bank Territory.

Through freeways, roads, tunnels, and overpasses Israel is connecting the settlements to the population centers inside the country so that settlement resident have seamless lives with freedom and safety in travel. It's like building more Israel on a new floor atop the Palestinian main floor.

The price of this "greater Israel" is maintaining a matrix of control of the daily lives, freedom to travel, and economic opportunities of the Palestinians who live in the West Bank. This is why the settlements are a huge obstacle to achieving a two state solution.

Location:Tel Aviv, Israel

Monday, November 7, 2011

The Power of Pain

Imagine sitting in a room with a Palestinian woman whose brother was killed by heart damage done by an Israeli bullet. Then imagine hearing the story of an Israeli Jew whose 14 year old daughter was killed when a suicide bomber blew himself up in an urban square in Tel-Aviv, killing her and three other children. Imagine them sitting together as friends; knowing each other's families and whose children are friends. That was the experience we had last night, hearing the stories of Aisha, a Palestinian Muslim, and Rami, an Israeli Jew.

Both are members of a group that has, unfortunately grown in number; called Parents Circle and Families Forum which is comprised of women and men who have lost a loved one to this conflict. Both Rami and Aeisha spoke so compellingly about how they were at first, so angry that both had, at first, thought about either suicide or revenge. Neither one believed that she or he would find themselves in a room with "the other" hearing and bearing witness to their pain.

One quote about the power of pain really stood out for me as Rami spoke. He said, "like nuclear energy you can use this enormous power to bring about destruction, or you can use it to bring light and heat, warmth or hope. " Aeisha then jumped in and said: "Ravi's blood is the same color as my blood; his tears are wet like mine; we who have paid the highest price in this war, are willing to continue to work for peace."

In that moment, it was as if the hideous, ugly and menacing wall that we have seen all throughout our travels in the West Bank had crumbled. I thought about how pain can isolate us from one another- separating us into our own private, emotional ghettos; or of how when we share that pain with others, with the intent to heal and not wound, then powerful new possibilities emerge.

This encounter was one that we will remember for the rest of our lives; and will serve as one chink in the wall that we hope one day soon, will be removed, allowing Jews and Palestinians to live in peace. --Kathleen Rolenz



Location:Jerusalem

There's Nothing To See There

After three eye-opening, heart-rending, and life changing days in the West Bank, we returned to Israel yesterday through the Kafka-esque Qalandia Checkpoint. In addition to the experiences of Palestinian hospitality in villages, we had seen vital and exciting Ramallah and beautiful scenery. So it felt particularly insulting to be welcomed back to Israel by the young guard who checked those of us riding through the checkpoint on the bus. He looked at our passports silently and without a greeting or question said:
"Why would you go there? There's nothing to see there!"

It was a mildly abusive insult compared to what Palestinians at this checkpoint endure every day, but it stung. It reminded us what it feels like to have your culture, your land, your home dismissed and discounted as unimportant. --Wayne Arnason


Location:Qalandia checkpoint

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Fair Trade with Palestine - November 6, 2011

West Shore Church has sold Fair Trade coffee and chocolate products since 2003. The success of the fair trade cooperative movement inspired a Palestinian University of Wisconsin graduate to come back to Palestine to see if organic olive oil production and fair trade marketing techniques from the West could be combined into a new job-creating economic engine. Six years the Palestinian Fair Trade Association is one of the important players in the Palestinian economy.

They produce high quality organic olive oil, olive oil soap, and now a variety of sauces and tapenades. On the morning after the Olive Festival, we visited the PFTA offices and hear about their business plan. Americans on the right and the left would love this story, since it's a completely capitalist enterprise that uses a familiar farmer's co-operative structure to negotiate the price with the business owner. The rapid success of their business has been due to grass roots marketing through churches and other fair-trade sales outlets. Just recently, Williams-Sonoma became the first major American retailer to sign a contract with them.

When we come back, we hope to find some additional volunteers that can make it possible to add this premium olive oil and other products to our Fair Trade Sales table.


Location:Palestine

Valley of Dry Bones

Our travels today included first a visit to an "unrecognized village" which contained some 1,000 Palestinians in the shadow of a large Jewish settlement. Then we visited to Al-Birwa, the ancestral home of the great Palestinian poet Mamoud Darwish which was now nothing but ruins, stones and graves. In the field beyond the ruins was a cattle lot, the stench of dung and cattle permeating the air. The village was destroyed to make way for an industrial park, although there seemed to be plenty of space for the complexes nearby. Never before have I been in such a desolate place. To make matters worse, we walked amidst the graves of the people who had been buried there, and came across bones that may have been disturbed when Israeli bulldozers cleared the village.

It minded me of the famous passage from Ezekiel, called "in the Valley of Dry Bones.". In that passage, the prophet Ezekiel is brought to a valley where there is nothing but rubble, ruin and bones. "Can these bones live?" he asks. "Prophesy to the bones," he is commanded. He does, and the bones reassemble themselves and then are enfleshed and made whole.

The irony of this scene is that the Valley of Dry Bones is a metaphor for the restoration of Israel. It's a scene and a story that gives hope to a people who have been oppressed, had their homes and lands destroyed, and driven from their home land. In that desolate place, a place that once held a mosque and a church, where perhaps the bones of the great Palestinian poet Darwoush's ancestors may have been laid to rest, there was nothing but dirt, stones, dung and bones.

Perhaps it is best to close with Darwoush's own words:

My friends are always preparing a farewell feast for me
A soothing grave in the shade of oak trees
A marble epitaph of time
And I always anticipate them at the funeral
Who then has died...who?

Location:Al-Birwa, Palestine

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Palestinian Home Stay

Last night we and another couple stayed together in the home of a Palestinian family in the village of Anin, just outside the Palestinian town of Jenin, in the northern West Bank Occupied Territory. This is a unique opportunity that traveling with an IFPB delegation offers, one that not many people from the West ever have and that almost no Israelis experience because they cannot travel in the Occupied Territories.

The family we stayed with was headed by an olive farmer named Hawer. He and his wife, whose name was hard to get, but we think was Khadina, have ten children. We saw eight if them in the house, and interacted with all but the oldest girl who was not introduced to us. The oldest two were away at school.

As a younger man, Hawer had served in the Palestinian Security Forces and was on Yassar Arafat's personal security detail. Our impression was that he had returned to his village and was farming and raising his family since the end of the 90's, before the second intifada began jn 2000.

One of the results of the security matrix of control that Israel has implemented since then has been that the security fence built with the road to a nearby Israeli settlement has cut off Hawer's access to his family's olive trees. The Israelis won't give him a permit to cross the fence to care for and harvest his trees, because of his military history. He is able to continue to farm olives because the Canaan Fair Trade Cooperative's Tree of Life Program has purchased and planted new trees for him to cultivate outside the security zone.

Hawer's family has been in Anin In this house since 1972 when his father began to build it - we weren't certain how much time prior to that. The legendary hospitality of the Palestinians did not surprise us. We were warmly welcomed, and the living and dining rooms on the main floor of the house were converted into private bedrooms for us. The family slept on the upper floors. We had translation from a friend in the neighborhood, an engineer who had studied in Paris and spoke both English and French. In the morning, when no translation was available, we got by with typed conversation on Google's translation program on the I Pad. (The kids were fascinated by the Photo Booth program on the I Pad, by the way.)

When we talked politics, we found that Hawer and his wife didn't always express the same opinions. They are not fans of the current Palestinian Authority President Abbas, but support the two-state solution.

The most powerful thing about our visit was our encounter with the children, and particularly the sixteen year old boy who hung in for all the conversation and was proficient with the I Pad. We wondered about his future, and whether his obvious potential will be locked into his village and culture or whether he will have any other choices available to him. Palestine's average age is young, and there are young men in the streets everywhere, we presume with limited employment prospects. It doesn't surprise us that their frustration is something that the Israelis are very worried about.



Location:Jenin, Palestine

Olive Harvest Hospitality

The Way In

Sometimes the way to milk and honey is through the body.
Sometimes the way in is a song.
But there are three ways in the world:
dangerous, wounding, and beauty.
To enter stone, be water.
To rise through hard earth, be plant
desiring sunlight, believing in water.
To enter fire, be dry.
To enter life, be food.

~ Linda Hogan ~ (Rounding the Human Corners)

Olive Harvest Hospitality

(Kathleen writes) I knew that Palestinian hospitality was legendary, but had never experienced it for myself until this evening. We were guests at the Olive Harvest Festival a celebration at the Canaan Olive Oil Processing Plant near Jenin, Palestine, which is the major producer of the Palestinian Fair Trade Olive Oil. We toured the plant, and realized that every single bottle can be traced to a particular farmer-- and that farmer has a name, a family and a story. Every bottle of oil you buy is documented; how the olives are grown; how they are stored, and when they are harvested. The facilities were spotless and so very impressive, as were the variety of olive oil "tastings" that were available to all the guests. After the tour, dinner was served. We sat outside on tables that tilted on the rocky ground, surrounded by Olive Trees, that looked like the imaginary Tree of Life. We feasted on Middle Eastern pizza and roasted chicken, drank a pulpy mashed up mint drink followed by a sweet dessert. After dinner, the celebration began-and what a celebration! All the men started dancing in a circle with unabandoned joy. The men in our group joined, or were pulled into, the circle, while we women watched and clapped, egging them on. Never have I seen so many men have such a good time without having to down a couple of beers to dance!!! The dancing and music, the mixture of young and older men, the women tapping their fingers on the table, a dozen young boys surrounding me asking in perfect English-- "who are you? What's your name? and.. "how old are you?" everyone having such a good time was a memory I shall not forget for a very long time.

They were celebrating not only the end of the harvest, but the success of the Canaan Olive Production Plant, which has become quote successful in it's six years, in no small part due to the Fair Trade Connections made in the United States and other countries who are committed to buying products from Palestine. One small church in Virginia has been selling olive oil for six years and was proud to tell me it had made over $10,000 dollars. Tonight, I saw the direct beneficiaries of this harvest: the way the community participates in the harvest; the hope that this successful venture has given an otherwise economically impoverished area; and the scholarships that were proudly given to the youth who had written their essays in both Arabic and English.

The poet Linda Hogan writes: Sometimes the way to milk and honey is through the body. Sometimes the way in is a song. Tonight we entered the land of milk and honey through both our bodies and then, in joyous song. Now, we go to sleep in the homes of our Palestinian guests, now entering life through sleep!!!

Location:Jenin, Palestine