January 9, 2007

You would measure time the measureless and immeasurable.
You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons.
Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing.
Yet the timeless in you is aware of life’s timelessness,
And knows that yesterday is but today’s memory and tomorrow is today’s dream.
from “The Prophet” by Kahlil Gibran

Greetings and Happy New Year from Jerusalem!

It is cold and windy outside. Already a wet winter snow has blanketed the trees up on the Mount of Olives. Winter is here, and I’m already longing for spring. Life’s blessings now appear in the little things: a small space heater, electricity, an occasional hot shower. The people I work with ask if I have these things. I wonder about those who do not have warmth, or water, or electricity for the winter.

Slowly, I am learning the underlying rules of this land, and the consequences for all of the people they impact. There is a saying that if you come to this land for a week, then you will leave and write a book; if you come for a month, you will write an article; if you stay for a year, you will write nothing. The situation is complex, like a snowflake. The closer you look at it, the more intricate it appears, and the more difficult it is to explain.

I am learning more about the history behind the conflict here and now I am familiar with words like “Nakba” and “Occupied Territories.” Everyone knows about the Holocaust, but few in the West seem to have heard about Nabka. I find that there is a whole lot more to history than I was ever taught. There is a whole other side of the story that is never talked about.

Nakba means “catastrophe,” and it is used by the people here to describe the events of 1948 in this land. It refers to a type of ethnic cleansing, crimes committed against the Palestinian people, crimes that were never admitted to. In seven months, 531 villages were destroyed, and 11 urban neighborhoods were emptied. Where did all of these people (the ones who survived) go? To refugee camps, to prisons for a while, to the Old City in Jerusalem, to wait until they could return to their homes. That was in 1948. They are still waiting.

People thought that was the worst result of the beginning of the state of Israel. But they were wrong. It always seems to get worse for Palestinians, just when you think it couldn’t possibly.

In 1967 there was a war that lasted for only six days. That doesn’t sound so terrible, but the results from that war are still felt today. This year, 2007, marks 40 years that the West Bank has been occupied by Israel. 1967 was the year Israel began the occupation of seized lands, including the Golan Heights (from Syria), the West Bank and East Jerusalem (from Jordan) and the Gaza Strip and Sinai (from Egypt). What does “occupation” mean? As I understand it, Israel doesn’t officially own the West Bank land, but they act like they do, using force, guns, intimidation, walls, and checkpoints to control it. It’s not hard to see who’s in charge here when you’re living here. I had no idea that Jordan used to own where I now reside. I wonder if they are even interested in owning this land again.

I have been reading a book by Henri Nouwen called Seeds of Hope. I picked it up from the bookshelf because lately it has become increasingly difficult for me keep hope that there is a peaceful solution to the unrest and injustice I see here. One parable he wrote caught my attention, as I sat in my kitchen watching truckloads of dirt and concrete being hauled up the hill to build the separation wall. Nouwen says he wrote the following parable “to illustrate the disastrous results of an obsessive preoccupation with national security.”

Once there was a people who surveyed the resources of the world and said to each other: “How can we be sure that we will have enough in hard times? We want to survive whatever happens. Let us start collecting food, materials, and knowledge so that we are safe and secure when a crisis occurs.” So they started hoarding, so much and so eagerly that other peoples protested and said: “You have much more than you need, while we don’t have enough to survive. Give us part of your wealth!” But the fearful hoarders said: “No, no, we need to keep this in case of an emergency, in case things go bad for us, too, in case our lives are threatened.” But the others said: “We are dying now, please give us food and materials and knowledge to survive. We can’t wait…we need it now!” Then the fearful hoarders became ever more fearful since they became afraid that the poor and hungry would attack them. So they said to one another: “Let us build walls around our wealth so that no stranger can take it from us.” They started erecting walls so high that they could not even see anymore whether there were enemies outside the walls or not! As their fear increased they told each other: “Our enemies have become so numerous that they may be able to tear down our walls. Our walls are not strong enough to keep them away. We need to put bombs on top of the walls so that nobody will dare to even come close to us.” But instead of feeling safe and secure behind their armed walls they found themselves trapped in the prison they had built with their own fear. They even became afraid of their own bombs, wondering if they might harm themselves more than their enemy. And gradually they realized their fear of death had brought them closer to it.

Every day I watch them construct the separation wall, one of the biggest obstacles to a possible future state of Palestine. It’s getting difficult to see hope for a two-state solution, because there’s a big grey wall blocking my view.

Bishop Dr. Munib Younan is the head of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land (ELCJHL) and also the vice president of Lutheran World Federation. He says: “When we look for true justice in today’s world, we see the great divide between the East and the West, the haves and the have-nots, the occupied and the occupier. Nowhere is this division more apparent than the Middle East, with all of its turmoil. Today’s justice is deeply rooted in self-interest, power, economics, and double standards. This contradicts the power of the cross: that God has redeemed all humanity equally regardless of gender, ethnicity, or race, whether powerful or weak, rich or poor, from the North or South, East or West. The reign of God calls us all together to the higher version of seeking justice, love and reconciliation for all people.”

My biggest asset to keeping a hopeful outlook has been the people with whom I live and work. The Christians I have met, those from Sabeel, those who come to visit what they call the “Holy Land” and also include what we call “Palestine” in their visit to Israel. I now read the Bible with a new set of eyes and ears that have become especially attuned to the perspective of the oppressed, to the words of Christ. But I still have so much more to learn. I look forward to learning from all the people I encounter, no matter what side of the wall they live on.

Hoping for a peaceful 2007,

Shannon O’Donnell

The 2007 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 170