Palestine

"When you minister on the front lines, you can't be selective. You will only limit God's grace."
- Labib Mandanat, Director
Palestinian Bible Society

Israel reminds me of the US in the 1950's with a little of Cold War Berlin thrown in. In the segregated US, people feared one another based on the color of their skin. In Cold War Berlin, a wall separated East from West, communist from capitalist. In Israel and Palestine, these patterns of fear, separation, and injustice are duplicated in a Middle Eastern context with global consequences. The greatest challenge in visiting this conflicted region was refusing the constant demand to choose a side and instead choose Jesus.

The day we arrived in Jerusalem, the Palestinian Bible Society's (PBS) bookstore in Gaza City was attacked by Muslim extremists. At two o'clock in the morning, the guard, a Muslim himself, was attacked and beaten, and a bomb filled with metal bb's was detonated in the shop. Two internet cafés were also bombed that night indicating that the attacks were toward businesses that represent western ideals to the extremists who attacked them. This reminds me of the fire-bombing of churches and businesses in the segregated South, white or black, who were seen as supporting the threatening ideals of civil rights and racial equality. Although many whites in the South lived peacefully alongside their black neighbors (albeit on the other side of the railroad tracks), the racial extremists made life very dangerous for the minority. The voice of the extremists also influenced the views of their more moderate neighbors. Similarly, in Gaza the day after the attack on the PBS Bookstore, the Palestinian Culture Authority stood publicly in solidarity with the PBS staff at the site of the bombing. However, the day we visited and delivered 250+ much-needed Bibles, a Muslim business woman was car-jacked and her business bombed.

The fear and injustice is not limited to Palestinians attacking one another. One night, I had the chance to hang out with an American friend in West Jerusalem. We walked from the Arab east side, through the Orthodox Jewish neighborhood, to his apartment building – the tallest building in Jerusalem. From his apartment window, we had a fabulous view of the ancient city lit up on a dark Shabbat evening. People were out in mass, enjoying the night air and the street performers on Ben Yahuda Street after a quiet day of rest and prayer. My friend and I walked through the crowds to a coffee shop. He pointed out the numerous places that had been bombed out along Ben Yahuda, some as many as two or three times. At the coffee shop, we first passed through security before sitting down to order. A strap separated the seating area from the sidewalk, and we sat and talked about the historical and political factors contributing to the current tension there. Suddenly, a young man with a backpack ducked the strap directly behind my friend. Every eye in the shop was trained on him as he nervously found a spot to sit in the shadows alone. In a moment's time, either a brave server or the security guard went over to the young man, had a short discussion, and the man left the way he had come in. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he was troubled and having a bad night, or maybe there was a bomb in that pack and he'd just chickened out. Thankfully, our lives went on as usual after that experience, but I gained a fresh understanding of life on constant red-alert.

In reference to Cold War Berlin, there are also physical walls that separate the people in Israel. Those with the most freedom, it seems, are foreigners. In state of Israel, there are three types of people: Jewish Israelis, Arab Israelis, and Palestinians. The Jewish and Arab Israelis have relative freedom of movement thanks to their state-issued passports which also lend them an identity. The Palestinians living in the West Bank and Gaza Strip have no such identity nor do they have freedom of movement. Fear and common sense greatly determine the movements of the Jewish people. Arab Israelis face regular harassment by Israeli soldiers at each check point. Palestinians are basically limited to whichever locality their papers indicate they are from. For example, Salwa Awad, born and raised in Gaza, has not seen her family there in over six years. When she was married 30 years ago, she had her papers changed to Bethlehem where she has since lived with her husband, the president of Bethlehem Bible College. Since the second intifada, thousands of Palestinian workers similarly lack permission to cross into Israel to work, and the unemployment rate among them varies from 40-60%.

We visited many locations throughout Palestine: Bethlehem, Jericho, Gaza, Nazareth, and Hebron . Some of these places, like Jericho, are now limited to one entrance with a road-block style gate. Others, like Gaza, have a fifty-foot wall encompassing the city and its suburbs. It has been compared to a maximum security prison of 1.5 million people. Inside some of these walls are refugee camps where four generations of families have lived since their homes and lands were confiscated to create an Israeli state. Other walls, like that in Hebron, separate Palestinians from Jewish settlers in the same town. In Hebron, a Jewish settler and extremist slaughtered 29 worshippers inside the mosque located at the Tomb of the Patriarchs. There was a monument in honor of the shooter erected nearby until public outcry caused it to be removed. The hills that were once included in Bethlehem are now on the outside of the walls and have Jewish settlements on them. Some Palestinian shops in Hebron have Jewish homes built on top of them.

Like all politically-charged areas, the propaganda is everywhere. So are the everyday experiences of the people on all sides. Many Palestinian Christians have the opportunity to leave to attend post-secondary schools in the west. Few return, and I don't blame them. For this reason, I greatly respect the men and women who choose to stay in or return to Palestine despite the difficulty. These people, like my friends Simon, Sireen, and Labib, are forced to choose a side every day. On our travel bus, Labib acted as our guide explaining many of the sights we could view from our windows. At one point, he stopped mid-sentence. I could tell that he was processing his next words very carefully. He was between stories and evaluating whether or why he would share the next information on his mind relating to the injustices all around us. He chose not to continue with his train of thought and explained why. In every passing day, he had a choice to make – the choice between holding offense against people he was justified in calling oppressors or denying his heritage and experiences. Perhaps the most poignant moment of my inaugural trip to Israel was to hear this man of God say that each day, he had to choose Jesus. It was his only choice. It is my only choice.

Like my Father in Heaven, I love Israel. I will pray for them and their salvation as the apostle Paul asks me to. Walking through the Orthodox neighborhood, down Ben Yahuda Street, and taking pictures with soldiers younger than myself, I was blessed to remember that Israelis are people too - people trying to live their lives, who are loved by God, and are overshadowed by fear. I met many beautiful Palestinian people who also love the Lord and are challenged to love their enemies like I may never understand. These people serve Muslims and Christians throughout Palestine and pursue reconciliation with their Israeli family in Christ on a daily basis. I look forward to seeing them again someday.

I began the Master of Divinity program at Bethel Seminary this fall with an emphasis in Global and Contextual Studies. I hope that studying Arabic under Salwa in Bethlehem will be a part of my program. I am also looking into studying abroad in Northern Ireland as a part of a Masters program in Reconciliation Studies. Please pray for the PBS, the people they serve, and the nation of Israel. And me too. Thank you!