March 15, 2007

Dear Friends,

Now I have found the Holy Land. Before today, I had only concepts, Bible stories, or historical sites to refer to when people used that term. I had not experienced much “Holy” here; mostly I have seen hatred and injustice. I did not expect for God to be more present here than in any other land. I still believe that God is present in our daily lives and the essence of that I find holy. But today I gained a new understanding of this land, a deeper appreciation of it, and a stronger connection to the place and the people.

Open land in the Palestinian areas are threatened by confiscation if not used. It doesn’t matter if one has legal documentation of ownership because the Israeli government can still take the land. This is the fear of the Nassar family. Daher Nassar was a Palestinian Christian who lived all his life in his 100 acres of land nine kilometers southwest of Bethlehem. I could almost see the Mediterranean from the highest point on their land. Daher purchased the land in 1916, and the original land papers from the Ottoman period have been preserved and passed down through the family. In 1991 the Israeli government declared the area state property. Since then, the Nassar family has challenged Israel’s declaration and repeatedly brought the case to court. The case is still being debated, and is currently postponed, by the high court. In the meantime, the Nassars have started a program called “The Tent of Nations.”

The Tent of Nations prepares young people to contribute to their future and their culture by bringing the values of understanding and tolerance into their life experience. This is accomplished by various programs at the vineyard: tree planting, work and study camps, vocational training, and the reconciliation program. Groups of local or international youth come for a few days or weeks to participate.

I went with a friend to the Nassars’ land (called Daher’s Vineyard) to help plant trees. As we approached the vineyard, we were greeted by friendly dogs and puppies! I have seen many stray cats in the city, but dogs are not as common. Daoud Nassar gave us a tour, and said they take in many dogs because people don’t want them. When local young people first came to the vineyard, he said, some would throw rocks at the dogs because they were afraid of the animals. But soon, they would interact with the animals, and their fears would dissolve. I could tell the animals are loved by the way they approached me.

It may seem like a small thing to bring youth from the cities to work in a vineyard, but connecting people to the land reaps greater rewards. There is so much stress and conflict over land that it’s easy to lose track of what people are fighting for. Teaching people to respect the land is not difficult, but giving them a space to tend to the land, to truly love it, is harder to do when it may be taken away. The Nassars’ land is surrounded by illegal Israeli settlements. We were planting trees precisely because a few years ago settlers had cut down the olive trees. I had no idea it took so long for an olive tree to mature. When planted, they look like twigs in the ground, and they take at least 10 years to produce anything. It was sad to see the remains of the olive trees the settlers had killed, which were at least 50 years old. The land is very rocky, and hard to plow or dig. But there’s nothing like the satisfaction of planting a tree. This land is holy to me now because I have worked it. I have cut my fingers on the thorny bushes, gotten blisters from the heavy tools, dripped sweat and blood into the soil.

As my friend and I were leaving, a group of settlers were coming towards us on the road. They walked past us and lingered around the big concrete block that was placed in the middle of the road a few years ago. My friend cautiously asked them what they were doing. A teenage boy carrying his M-16 casually slung across his shoulder answered, “Oh, we’re just out enjoying our beautiful land. It’s nice, don’t you think?” We answered politely, but my friend later said what I was thinking at the time—the land would be much nicer if there weren’t so many illegal settlements in it.

Shabbat is the Jewish Sabbath. It goes from sundown on Friday to sundown on Saturday. Shops are closed, and people usually don’t drive. On the ride home, I saw families walking to the Western Wall to pray. It is hard to be torn between such sites: the family walking to pray, the settlers walking through Daher’s vineyard. I wonder: how can it be pleasing to God to trespass onto someone else’s property, armed with a gun? The words “Shabbat Shalom” seem more like a joke some days.

I can’t wait to return to plant more trees. I pray that the Israeli government doesn’t take the land and that the settlers don’t destroy the trees we’ve planted or cause trouble for the Nassar family. And I hope that one day Israelis and Palestinians can both walk around and enjoy their beautiful land equally and peacefully.

Shannon O’Donnell

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