Israel: Closing Thoughts

One month ago to the day was my last day in Israel. I continue to process my thoughts about this trip, despite what has been nothing but an action-packed and mind-boggling beginning to my last semester at Luther Seminary. Now that I have been placed in Region 3 (MN, SD, ND) for assignment and as I look ahead to first call, I can finally go back and close out this most epic of experiences from this past January. So here are some insights worth sharing that I took away from our final cross-cultural debriefing session last Friday.

What did you expect to learn and did in fact, learn?

(The following insights are excerpts from my paper)

I expected to learn more about the tensions and conflict currently going on between the people of the Holy Land. I gained a much informed and insightful, albeit agonizing run-down of the various issues involved between the Israelis and Palestinians, the Jews, Christians and Muslims. We heard from two very different perspectives of the same conflict which escalated just over sixty years ago in the spring of 1948. First we listened to Bob Lang, the chief bureaucrat of Efrat, an Israeli/Jewish settlement on the outskirts of Jerusalem. Bob spoke passionately about the Holy Land and his desire to see Jewish people return rightfully to this lands – land that his ancestors have known for 4000 years. His dream is that Israel would soon be known as a “melting pot” and ingathering of the Exiles and insists that despite the walls (both literal and figuratively) and the zero contact allowed between Israeli and Palestinian children, that settlements are designed to live side by side with Arabs and “are not obstacles to peace but bridges.”  Later that same afternoon we heard from Pastor Imad Hadad, a Palestinian Christian (and Lutheran) in Bethlehem. Pastor Hadad and a local Muslim woman spoke to our group about the difficulties facing Palestinians, especially those living in the West Bank where they live. Both Pastor Hadad and the woman stressed that the key to a peaceful coexistence rests upon a two-state solution and above all, “being recognized as a person.” They shared about the daily human rights violations occurring, most notably their right to travel freely within their country. They both went on to list many things they are simply not allowed to do, or allowed to do only under intense scrutiny. Pastor Hadad shared that he views Jewish settlements as “colonies on my land which are stealing my resources.” 

I am continually besieged by the thought that ultimately, this conflict feels like one between two estranged brothers[1] who both believe they are right. I find myself wrestling that at some point this sibling rivalry ought to end with someone taking the high road – that something needs to give in order for there to be any peace or justice. But this thought barely escapes my mind before I throw up my arms in total and utter confusion and despair: who am I to suggest such an approach?

Our last day would bring a sampling of nourishing food for thought to my embattled conscience. We met with 73 year old Palestinian Christian and Archbishop of the Melkite Church, Elias Chacour (author of one of our required texts, Blood Brothers: The Unforgettable Story of a Palestinian Christian Working for Peace in Israel - which I highly recommend!) Archbishop Chacour described rather poignantly that “this is a conflict of two rights glued together and pushed to the extreme, competing against one another for who will be able to remove more from the other side.” It dawned on me how right he was – and how my struggle to choose a side was ultimately an ill-fated and pointless act for this is not about sides – it is about solidarity. Chacour scorned the notion that ‘might is right’ and recounted that “God does not kill.” 

I certainly have a new appreciation for the vast conflict and contrast within this tiny country, and that we the church are continually called to “raise hell when its needed – to bring God into the conscience” by solidarity in (in Chacour’s parting words) “being friends with both Jews and Palestinians – no reason you can’t take more than one side because we don’t need any more enemies, but common friends.” 

What did you not expect to learn but did? 

The response to this question came from my fellow Luther Seminary trip-mate, Karen Ward, whose sentiments I agree with completely. She said that she expected to be spiritually fed by the places of the Holy Land – but was in fact, not. In other words, the ‘magic’ and beauty and ancient wonder of seeing where Jesus walked, taught, healed, lived, rose from the dead, etc wasn’t what one would expect. For the most part, I was not spiritually fed by the places themselves but rather by the living stones – the people – who existed there now. It was awesome to reflect upon the places in relation to the Scriptures we know so well as Christians, but the power came not from the ruins and excavations. No, I was most moved by what I sensed Jesus was doing in my life moment by moment, in conversation with my group mates, in worship and prayer, in journaling and reflection upon the faithfulness of God both then and now. Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for having seen these Holy places from the greatest story ever told, but I walk away not with memories of divine encounters at the shrines and monuments themselves, but with a newly inspired imagination for teaching and preaching how this ordinary land once interacted with our forefathers in the faith, the ancient Hebrews and Israelites, the disciples and the Lord of All Creation, Jesus Christ.  

What did you expect to learn but did not?

I expected to have more freedom to learn on my own from the locals. I learned the hard way that whether I wanted to be known as a tourist or not, I was in fact just that. We were not permitted to stray off from the group at any point of our experience. This was frustrating. I wanted to explore on my own or with a few other people and really get a pulse of the land and people. I hoped to engage in more spontaneous discussions with the Israelis and to hopefully walk away having connected on some temporary intimate footing with others. But we were largely treated as dumb sheep. Granted, we were in fact probably oblivious to the dangers around us had we gotten separated, but nothing was more annoying than being treated like a child. I am grateful for the insights of a friend who had spent some significant time in Israel a few years ago – he gave me great tips and recommendations, insight and back story about the places on our itinerary. Without his assistance, I know I would have surely missed out on some of the tastiest snacks in all of Israel – namely, “Taybeh” (a Palestinian brewed beer) and Knafeh (a sweet bakery treat that is literally, the best!)

What were your highs and lows?

My lows: when I was not allowed to explore on my own, the jet lag and feeling incredibly homesick the first week. My high: getting to create an experience with two other trip companions by summiting Mt. Zeruya overlooking the Dead Sea. The whole trip was definitely a ‘high’ but I will especially remember January 17, 2011 with Pastor Chip Gunsten and Sami Wertz and our encounter with God and the Word (Psalm 121, 84 and 46) upon that mountain. I also had some pretty amazing talks with the Triune God throughout the experience which inspired my faith and assured me of Jesus’ tremendously enduring, patient, strong and unconditional love for me and all people. I am also super grateful for having shared these 17 days with such an awesome group of people whose generosity and kindness were extremely appreciated. I miss our interaction and laughter together – if one of you is reading this now, know that I am grateful for our travels together and pray God’s blessings for you!