kar0ling

The day of visiting Passion Week sites left me strangely passionless, and I'm not sure why. We saw a lot in one day, but it all followed one after another, so there was no confusion. There were plenty of tourists, to be sure (always an irritation), but fewer than expected (and I could hardly complain, being one of them). At each site, we received both religious and historical accounts -- of which I often found the latter more compelling. No, I wonder if it comes back to pilgrimage, and my unfamiliarity with it. The moments of transcendence, the moments when my soul was lifted to praise God had more to do with the beauty of the unfamiliar architecture and vibrant tropical foliage I saw than with a connection to standing in the spot where Jesus stood. It occurs to me that I should be excited to stand/take pictures "in the very place where..." because it is a connection with the Jesus of history -- an important part of my belief. For it is not enough that Jesus be fully G...

Throughout the tour, as I heard over and over again about violence, injustice, and oppression, I wondered, in what areas and to which people are my actions oppressive? Where am I oblivious to the injustice I support? As a first-class member of one of the most privileged societies in the world, I find it unlikely I can claim immunity from having perpetuated violence on anyone.

The irony is that both Jews and Palestinians are the best placed to understand each other's persistence: both cling tenaciously -- irrationally, perhaps -- to their devotion to the land. But at what cost? A constant deadlock in negotiations where either side refused to budge, to make concessions? At the loss of multiple family members? And what about the damage to the land itself? It seems both groups have allowed the land to be degraded simply for the sake of holding on to it. I appreciated the settler who spoke to our group for his willingness to share his perspective with a folks he surely anticipated may be unsympathetic, if not hostile to it. As the many Palestinians we spoke to put a human face on their story of the conflict, so this settler put a human face on that particular Israeli faction -- the desire for a peaceful and meaningful place to raise a family, the desire to practice one's religion without difficulty. The conversation also offered a glimpse into how throug...

The tour leader directed us to ponder "servant power" in contrast to Herod's imperial might as we visited Herodium, the magnificent palace by the noted first-century builder, Herod the Great, also the chosen site of his mausoleum. Political might is undeniably a force to be reckoned with, while true servants wielding the awesome power of God are hard to find, and often found in a hard place. But as we gazed upon the excavations of Herod's splendor, buried for more than a thousand years (his tomb only unearthed in the past year or two), and heard how there remains no trace -- on the mount, anyway -- of his architectural garnishes (marble steps, columns), I couldn't help but think of Shelley's "Ozymandias." ("...And on the pedestal these words appear:`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains...." ) Herod matches his enormous hubris and his vanished empire. Then I consider t...

My post on May 2, "Some stories from the city of David," and this entry spring from the same set of experiences. I'd just heard Bishara Awad speak about how the worldwide church needs to stand with Palestinian Christians and I felt convicted to use my platform to speak to the MB church in Canada. Is it overly grandiose, I asked myself, feeling the answer was likely yes -- and no -- to believe that I might be on the study tour, one last application slipped in after the closing date, "for such a time as this"? How can I not do my part in showing concern and solidarity with Palestinian brothers and sisters in Christ by taking their struggle to my captive audience? In the time that has passed, I have actually done so, with much procrastination, trepidation, and early morning writing (you'll find my "Viewpoint" in the July Herald ). But Awad's presentation raised other questions that weren't so inspiring. To what degree should the West take resp...

Very early on in the tour, I was struck by the international variety of the tour groups we encountered as we visited the sites significant to Christians. I was ashamed to find myself surprised that on many days none of the other groups we encountered were English-speaking. What made me think North Americans are the only ones to take a "pilgrimage" to the region? Did I subconsciously think we are the only Christians in the world? I was truly delighted to mark the diversity of nationality among the pilgrims at every stop along the journey. There were French-speaking groups, Indians, Nederlanders, groups from African countries, Italians, Spanish-speaking groups, Russians, groups from South-East Asian countries -- the list goes on. There, in the "Holy Land," was a small picture of heaven.

"I'm surprised there aren't more suicide bombers." I acknowledge that our tour was heavily biased in favour of a moderate Palestinian perspective; nevertheless, what I saw and heard in a short period of time was a people in a perpetually frustrated and hopeless existence. I was astonished by the capacity of each person who addressed our group to continue, if not always to forgive, at least to seek ways to live peaceably with their Jewish neighbours; by their persistent absorption of discrimination and violence without retaliation. Thus the shocking statement above came to me over and over as we listened. After a day of stories from several people from different demographics and walks of life, I better understood why one would choose to stand in front of a bulldozer. After hearing such litany of indignities, I itched to put my body in the way of continuing the separation wall. To come to the land, to hear the stories and share the pain, to offer our pathetic tourist do...

Initially, my bias on the Israel-Palestine situation was influenced by an overly optimistic story of the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948. When the accounts I heard as I began to listen to current news from the region led me to conclude that the State was treating its original inhabitants badly, I assumed it was an aberration, a failure to live up to the good intentions of the founders to live at peace and in equality with their neighbours. To a degree, I blamed Palestinians for the harsh treatment they received at the hands of the State -- after all, one can hardly blame a nation for retaliating against terrorist acts. Yet at the same time, I held the Israel to a higher standard. As a people, having suffered so much, how could they turn around and cause another group to suffer similarly, incited by the same nebulous yet polarizing excuse (race/ethnicity/religion)? If anyone should have a sense of mercy and justice, I thought, oughtn't it be this people who have been so...