Dear Friends,
Many of you have written wondering where I’ve been and why I haven’t written lately, for which I thank you most heartedly. It means you read the things I send and miss them when I don’t! Here’s what’s been happening:
In February I began a speaking tour of the US, traveling first to Jackson, MS then on to Texas and a variety of venues in the Houston area, Austin and the Dallas/Ft. Worth areas. From there I went to Colorado to speak in Aspen, and some other towns in the Aspen Valley (who decided to become supporting churches, yeah!) From there I went back down the mountain to catch a flight to Sacramento, CA. I spent several days hosted by the California-Nevada Conference that included a talk at the Pacific School of Religion and many churches in central California and the Bay area. I am still in awe of the hard work and dedication of the people in all these places who helped to make the arrangements for this trip, and who continue to work hard in support of the Palestinian people and for rights for the oppressed. My hat goes off to them with my sincere appreciation and thanks.
My talks were centered on the illegal occupation, the recent holocaust in Gaza, and the political realities of the region here, a story many people in the U.S. do not hear. This was followed by some specifics of what we as a denomination are doing in the region. In past years this has not been a very popular message. The demonization of Islam and the Strategy of Fear that has taken hold in the U.S. caused people to be extremely critical of anything that presented the Palestinians as something other than the “terrorists” certain lobbyists would have us believe them to be.
On this past tour I was pleasantly surprised by the willingness of people to hear the message with minds open, to ask informed questions, and to ask what they can do to help. For someone like me who expects, and is prepared for, some vehemently objectionable criticism by at least two or three people in the audience, I was most appreciative to realize that people are finally ready to hear a different voice, a different perspective, and to not pre-judge without looking for more information. This made a very exhausting trip very worthwhile. On the other hand, I was horrified to hear that so many people had not heard about the scope of the devastation in Gaza. Allegations of “crimes against humanity” should not be silenced or falling on deaf ears!
Tuesday night, March 17 was not a good night for me. I returned to the airport near Tel Aviv late in the evening, assessed which security person behind the counters at Passport Control looked the most amiable or most bored (these are usually the ones who give you the least amount to hassle) then stood in that line in my jet-lagged state of exhaustion to await my turn. When it came time for me to advance to the booth I made sure I had a smile on my face and voiced a pleasant “good evening” in English. No reply. The young woman simply glanced at the many filled pages of my passport and picked up the telephone. Since she was speaking in Hebrew I had no idea to whom she was addressing or what the conversation was about. Was she talking to her boyfriend (a common practice for bored young adults) or to someone in authority? I found out soon enough.
She hung up the receiver and said, “The Ministry of Interior says that you were here for nine months last year. You are only allowed one three month visa per year. We will give you a one month visa but you will have to go to Akko to get a different visa.” With that she stamped my passport, inked a large number 1 over the 3 month stamp and returned the passport to me. Walking away from the booth I immediately checked, as I usually do, to inspect the visa stamp. Sure enough it said one month. Not a disaster…yet.
In the past few years many of my colleagues have had their passports stamped “Entry Denied” and were turned back at the borders or put on the next return flight out of Tel Aviv. I was lucky. I at least had one month to deal with the problem. After almost 15 years of leaving the country every three months and maneuvering their system to my benefit, my luck had run out.
After a seemingly endless wait for my suitcase, I finally exited the terminal and headed for the Nesher vans (airport shuttles) that go to Jerusalem for my ride up the hill to my home just outside Bethlehem in the village of Beit Safafa. This Palestinian village is slowly being “integrated” as more and more Jews build new apartments and move into an area that has been Arab for centuries. There is even a small, illegal Jewish “colony” located on the side of the hill. Beit Safafa is located inside the West Bank but is in an area that Israel has included into Greater Jerusalem in its push to confiscate more land.
As the van was loading I told the driver that I needed to go to Beit Safafa. “No! We don’t go to Beit Safafa. We will go to Tantur” (a Catholic institute on a nearby hill.) I gave him my usual argument, saying that I lived just down the hill near Tantur and all the other drivers had taken me to my door. “No! We do not go inside Beit Safafa.” I tried to argue that I lived near the Israeli market, next door to some UN workers and they all got delivered by Nesher. “No!” At this point my jet-lag kicked in and I got angry. “Why not?” “No. Not one centimeter inside Beit Safafa.” “But why not?” I insisted. The other passengers were beginning to squirm, knowing the answer all too well. Since Beit Safafa is an Arab neighborhood I have always been the first to be picked up (at Tantur, not at my home) and the last to be dropped off since the Jewish passengers will refuse to go into an Arab neighborhood. The Strategy of Fear is very much at work in Israel too.
I persisted. (I can be very stubborn. Just ask my family.) “Why won’t you take me to Beit Safafa? All the other drivers go there.” (In the past this was true. Things have only recently changed.) “No. We do not go into Beit Safafa, not one centimeter!” “Tell me why not! I want to hear you say it!” He knew what I was getting at and turned away to finish loading the other suitcases. “Because you are a Racist!” I blurted out and turned with an indignant huff to find a private taxi, preferably one with an Arab driver. Exhausted, facing visa problems, and hoping I had enough cash to pay the fare for a private taxi all the way to Beit Safafa an hour away, this was not a good start to my return.
I had one full day to empty my suitcase, do a load of laundry (which involves a 2 hour wash cycle and the remainder of the day airing outside on the clothesline in the gloomy weather) repack a smaller suitcase and stuff 22 packets for a Volunteer in Mission team that was due to arrive the following day for their two week trip which I was leading.
The group arrived at the airport in surprisingly good spirits and we headed up to the village of Ibillin and the campus of Mar Elias Educational Institutions, one of our Advance Projects. After dinner I went over the program and did their orientation. We had just finished going over the next day’s schedule which involved their volunteer time in the morning followed by a visit to another partner project then some touring in Akko and dinner in Haifa overlooking Haifa Bay. No sooner had I dismissed the group when the head of maintenance, the person responsible for the volunteer work, appeared. He told me that he had prepared for a very special evening the next night. There would be a big barbeque with Archbishop Elias Chacour, the founder of Mar Elias and recipient of the World Methodist Peace Award, and a representative from U.S. Embassy joining the group for dinner. Immediately my mind started racing, mentally making adjustments to the scheduled itinerary, the phone calls that would have to be made to cancel the dinner in Haifa, the vouchers that would have to be voided, penalties that may need to be paid, and, most importantly, figuring out how to break the news to the group who were already looking forward to spending time in Akko, the port city for the Crusades and site of one of Napoleon’s few defeats that we would no longer have time to visit there. And it was only their first day! Getting to meet with Archbishop Chacour was a priority, however, so the group remained cheerful.
The next two weeks were a blur of activity spent with some wonderfully dedicated and hard workers. Unfortunately about half the group came down with the flu, and we had a couple of “casualties”, a snapped knee, a painful back-wrenching fall, and a lost passport, but the group rallied from all the adversities; painting the Church of the Sermon on the Mount at Mar Elias to get it ready for Easter services, visiting partner project sites like the destroyed village of Bi’rim to learn a bit about the history of the Israel and what it meant for the Palestinian people. After a week inside Israel the group shifted to Bethlehem where they worked at another of our Advance projects, Bethlehem Bible College and the East Jerusalem Baptist Church, while spending a few days also visiting the traditional holy sites and other, less visited sites whose people make them holy, such as Hebron and D’heisha Refugee Camp.
On the last day of their trip I had arranged for them to have a closing worship service at the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer in Jerusalem’s Old City, near the Church of the Resurrection (Holy Sepulcher). After finally gaining entrance to the locked church (they had forgotten we were coming) I pulled out a small bottle of Bethlehem-made wine and some matzo bread for the communion service but had neglected to think about how to uncork the wine bottle. During the opening portion of the service I struggled to dig out the cork with the assistance of a borrowed Swiss Army knife, finally succeeding in cutting away enough to stuff the cork down into the bottle. The group also shared what part of the trip had touched them the most. When it was my turn to share I could not keep back the tears. I am always moved when people who are new to the region and new to the issues have their eyes and ears opened to a different reality, a different “truth.” As has often been repeated, “You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” To see this group experience the truth, to live it, to work inside its walls, was a miracle for me. They were truly a blessing.
The group made it back to the US, and I came back to the office for a short two days before heading to Haifa. I wanted to spend Palm Sunday in a place where I knew I would be welcomed and where I could spend a day not having to think, to have some mental quiet time. The Palm Sunday procession through the streets of Haifa, with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people filling the streets of this major city was a wonderful example of the vibrant Christian community that still exists in this holy land. It was wonderful to be a part of it.
However, Monday always follows Sunday and I had to get down to the business of renewing my visa. In a nutshell, Monday involved a trip to the Ministry of Interior’s office in Akko, a run back down to Jerusalem to catch one of the Ministry of Interior officials who deals with Christian affairs, followed by a return to Haifa to await paperwork that never arrived. Now it is Pesach (Passover) so all the offices are closed until the day before my visa expires and I have to leave the country. It is a very complicated saga which I will write about after I get that stamp in my passport and I can take a deep breath again. This was one more stress that I did not need in my life, but it’s in God’s hands at this point.
As I was told the very first day I set foot in this land, “You must have unlimited patience to live here.” Too true! Your prayers that I will be granted an extended visa would be most appreciated. After that I will work to help organize a campaign to assist others, especially the foreign Christians who are being targeted, to work on both sides of the ocean to push the Israeli government to change its restrictive policies.
In the mean time, may you all have a blessed Easter and know that the Risen Lord brings us all the promise of a new day, the chance to make the best of that day, the knowledge that our sins are forgiven, and we will be blessed with everlasting life. We look forward to Sunday when we will begin to greet each other for the next forty days with the words:
“El Messiah Kam! Hakan Kam!” Christ is Risen! He is truly Risen!
