Flowers and Fences

A year ago today I left Palestine for the US.  I had been there for three months; the Palestinian landscape had changed from early spring to almost summer and my life had been irrevocably changed.  Today, I am going through the photos that I took in Palestine, trying to prepare an exhibit for my church’s Annual Conference.

Flipping through almost 2,000 images, I was struck by how many photos I had of the Wall.  Pictures of the checkpoints, of agricultural gates and school gates, of graffiti and barbed wire.  The next impression that hit me was how many photos I had taken of flowers!  Someone told me that the poppy was a symbol of hope.  That must have penetrated at some level, because there were lots of poppy photos!  There were also photos of blossoming trees, of Queen Anne’s lace, of wild daisies and many other beautiful wildflowers whose names I never did learn!

But more than an opportunity to weep over an Occupation that has only worsened in the year I’ve been gone, and more than the chance to view the beautiful flowers of hope, my “trip down Memory Lane” also afforded me time to reflect about where I am. 

Advocacy?  Sure!  That was a big piece of the EAPPI experience – on the ground learning, followed by active advocacy.  I’m still at it – giving presentations at churches, community organizations and anywhere else I can wrangle an invitation.  Also taking advantage of opportunities to make impromptu “soap box” talks at places as diverse as the bridge table, and “cocktail hour” in the lounge of my new residence! 

A lot of my time and energy are taken up by the Holy Land Task Force that was formed by my (Methodist) church’s Annual Conference last year – with its goal to educate congregations and clergy about the reality of life in Jesus’ birthplace, (and my ultimate goal  of  advocating for divestment through the international church community!).  I played a minor part in organizing a local Sabeel Conference as well, and am working on a book about my experiences in Palestine.

   

But I’ve also been reflecting on how my experiences in Palestine changed me as a person.  After all, I always was kind of opinionated - and outspoken in my convictions as to what I believe is right and wrong!  And that hasn’t changed!! 

What has changed, I think, is that my passion has been mellowed with patience.  I’ve seen the patience of the Palestinian people, as they live lives narrowed by forces out of their control, yet lives that are happy, peaceful and fulfilling.  I’ve spent hours taking journeys that, under other circumstances, would have taken far less time!  I’ve wakened to the sound of the adhan and laid in bed, thankful to be in such a place where the world stops for prayer five times every day.

My world isn’t stopping; it continues to spin.  And I continue to pray and work for an end to a brutal Occupation – and for the American people to wake up and stop enabling this Occupation!  Still, there are many images that take me back to a busier – yet more peaceful – life in Palestine and I know I will return.

Easter In Jerusalem

Courtyard of Church of the Holy Sepulcher

With the approach of Easter next week, my thoughts have turned to last Easter – an Easter that I spent in the Holy City of Jerusalem, participating in an Easter sunrise service on the Mount of Olives – on the grounds of Augusta Victoria Hospital.  I was an EA last year – living and working in Tulkarm – and my Easter sojourn was one of my three two-day “vacations” from the job (the other two were in Tel Aviv and Jericho).

I spent Maundy Thursday in Bethlehem, on a placement visit with EAs there, and crossed over to Jerusalem (through the infamous “Checkpoint 300”) on Good Friday morning.  I crossed late enough to avoid the crowds of Palestinian workers, but was in the queue with Palestinian Christians who wanted to spend the holy day in the holy city.  Alas, for most it was not to be – the Israeli soldiers turned away these “pilgrims,” despite their valid permits, with impunity.  Likewise, most Muslims who wished to pray at the Al Aqsa Mosque were turned away; only a few very elderly men and women were allowed to pass.

"Typical" checkpoint crossing

Once in Jerusalem, I noted the heavy presence of soldiers at all gates to the Old City.  Here, too, pilgrims were denied access to Via Dolorosa and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.  I ran into a few internationals that I knew – a Canadian minister, an American missionary.  They had just walked the Via Dolorosa and reported that local people were not allowed to enter the city; only members of the international community had the “golden ticket” to enter!

I proceeded up the hill to the Augusta Victoria guesthouse, where I was spending the weekend, and didn’t even try to enter the Old City until Sunday morning, after the sunrise service and before catching my return bus to Tulkarm.  The service was beautiful and the brunch at the home of the hospital’s chief administrator, was very pleasant, but I couldn’t get the local Christians out of my mind.

Sunrise service on Mount of Olives - Easter 2013

Why were we “foreigners” allowed the privilege of entering a place that was closed to the indigenous Christians who have been worshipping there since the time of Christ?  And when and how will this madness all end?

I believe most who are following the most recent “peace talks” have concluded, as John Kerry allegedly did a few days ago, that these talks, like all of their predecessors, will go nowhere and solve nothing.  I also believe in the power of the people (both abroad and in Palestine/Israel) will provide the ultimate “solution” to this intractable situation.  And I firmly believe that BDS is the best option available to obtain a “just” solution (I will expand further on this at another time!) 

In the meantime, I understand that matters are even worse in Jerusalem this Easter season than last.  Fewer permits have been issued to Palestinian Christians (and those that have been issued have frequently gone to young children, but not their parents!); more soldiers will be manning the gates to the Old City; again, the local Christians – the “stones” who can trace their ancestry to the direct followers of Jesus – are being forced out.  Further, more children are being detained; more olive trees destroyed; more people are being killed and the lines at the checkpoints are even longer.  When, indeed, will they ever learn?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1QZq-wKaBWc&list=RD1QZq-wKaBWc#t=19