Consider the bees…

Earlier this week I went to visit Sindyanna of the Galilee, based in Cana of Galilee. Sindyanna supplies all the olive oil used by the Scots Hotel and one of their prize winning olive oils comes from the so-called Scots Grove. Some fifteen years ago now the Church of Scotland supported the planting of this new grove and its state-of-the-art irrigation system.

Ordinarily, Sindyanna’s factory and workshop is a bustling place. Downstairs olive oil is bottled and crated along with other products such as soap and honey: all local, all fairtrade. Over recent years, Sindyanna has regularly been on the itinerary of tour groups both Israeli and foreign, who come for different reasons. Some are olive oil aficionados who sniff and taste and choose their olive oil with as much panache as any wine taster. Others are interested in Sindyanna as a model of a place where Arab Israelis and Jewish Israelis come together with shared aims and common goals.

Sindyanna has diversified over the years, but all their projects have been about helping Arab Israeli women gain education and skills and income and through them increasing their families’ participation in education and thus prospects for success.

There are few visitors at the moment, and staff are laid off or part time. Hanan, who ordinarily tutors basket weaving, was there as a volunteer tending to the plants growing in the hydroponic system. The school hydroponic project has gone well, but adults are too distracted and stressed to have made a success of the system at home. Hana keeps the plants tidy and trimmed and well irrigated. Despite setbacks Sindyanna continues to adapt and diversify. Their latest project is to teach beekeeping, not so much for commercial honey production but to encourage the natural pollinators which are essential in a healthy environment. Each participant over the ten week course will get their own beehive.

Nadia, who manages the Sindyanna Visitor Centre, and who is now back at work half time, has used the enforced time off of lockdown during the Corona Virus and the more recent downtime to consolidate her skills in non-violent communication (NVC). She has been a practitioner for ten years, but now she is a qualified trainer. She is able to facilitate in Hebrew, Arabic, English and Spanish and her eyes light up as she describes the satisfaction she feels as a group of strangers from diverse backgrounds, often with a great deal of presupposition and fear to overcome, find ways to truly listen one  another and empathise and ensure that the needs of all in the room are heard and accommodated as far as the group can.

Nadia now uses NVC practices in everything she does, and she’s delighted when a group she has helped facilitate pick up and run with something she has introduced. A recent workshop used ‘feeling cards’ to identify how everyone in the room is doing emotionally at the beginning of the session. At times of high stress and tension it helps to know what emotions are in the room so that misunderstandings can be avoided and trust built. It was not an NVC group, but ‘feelings cards’ are now part of their check in with one another.

This is such a tense time. So many things go unsaid. Different groups in society see things from entirely different perspectives. The unspoken fears and griefs can leech into everyday encounters. Just as the health of the bees is an indicator of toxicity or health in a biosystem, so small human encounters which move beyond tolerance to genuine respect are signs of hope.

Next (small) steps…


I flew back to Israel last week, a week after my father’s funeral and two days after my birthday. The plane was unusually quiet, although a surprising number of families with small children were flying into Israel to celebrate Pesach.

The flight was uneventful; although I was the only passenger, it seemed, whose suitcase did not transfer in Frankfurt Airport. It caught up with me eventually.

My colleague, Rev Dr Stewart Gillan, met me and the transfer to Jerusalem was quick, on quiet roads. Only 4 days earlier the skies above Jerusalem were aglow with intercepted missiles from Iran. The country was holding its breath: what response would there be?

It is very odd how life goes on, seemingly as normal. Hotel and guest house staff are pleased to see me, but give little away about how they feel.

The morning after I arrived I went to the British Consulate in Jerusalem where Peter, the husband of the British Consul General has been growing cuttings of plants from his rather splendid consul garden for the Galilee Garden in Tiberias. We loaded my car and he and I set off for Tiberias. He then spent the next 48 hours trimming and plotting in the garden. There was a short hiatus when he was called back to Jerusalem (on the
bus) for security reasons. That passed, however, and he and the Consul General drove back to Tiberias. She enjoyed some much needed rest at the Scots Hotel and Peter continued his deliberations. He is such an enthusiast, and, wielding his secateurs, spoke to all the staff who came across him. As an architect and garden expert, his reflection and input on the Galilee Garden (given free with boundless enthusiasm and knowledge) will be invaluable.

The idea for the Galilee Garden has had a longer gestation period than an African elephant. There are several prompts for it. The Church of Scotland has wonderful lakeside land which is well looked after by the Scots Hotel, but the land surrounding the church building is very neglected and a real eyesore. Downtown Tiberias, which is shaped by the Yigal Allon walkway, is also very run down but the promenade means many tourists and locals walk daily past the church and garden. Above the church building we have accommodation which we hope to offer on a budget basis to pilgrim groups from Scotland and elsewhere. There will be basic accommodation for up to 18 people.


As the garden develops there will be possibilities of acting as hosts and companions to garden visitors, and building Christian community in this important downtown setting.

At the moment, 3 hotel workers from the Philippines live there, and one room is available on a twin bed basis to folk looking for study leave accommodation.

The centre piece of the Galilee Garden will be a large stone-paved labyrinth, visible from the hotels and the spa and available for spiritual reflection.

Peter’s useful insight following this visit is to focus on what we can do, and build incrementally. He will send his suggested ‘jobs to do’ and I will investigate next steps, including completing the business plan.

When pilgrims return there will be a real need for a peaceful place of reflection which does not further add to the layers of information ladled in to pilgrims from early morning to dusk. The Sea of Galilee is surrounded by wonderful sights and beautiful buildings, but just as the Garden Tomb in Jerusalem provides a place of rest and reflection with
opportunities to pray and worship and share communion, so the Galilee Garden can become a much-needed refreshing place in a dry and dusty land.

But not all at once. Peter has helped me see how  2 or 4 gardeners (no skill required) could come visit for a couple of weeks at a time. With their help, the neglected, overgrown trees could be refreshed. Gardening will only be possible very early in the morning, so any visitors would be free to explore the rest of the day, or swim and help rebuild the worshipping community here simply by being here.

In the grand scheme of things, while Gazans continue to suffer and rockets fly in and out of Lebanon, and the West Bank burns unnoticed, and settlement expansion and settler confidence grows apace, whatever I do will be small. I recall the beauty of small things. I picture Jesus, mustard seed in hand. I remember the hillsides of Galilee, which will be a riot of mustard yellow in a week or two, and I get his joke.

I also understand that my uncertainty, my feeling of inadequacy and my sense I can do little by myself, allows me to rest in God. Carla Grosch-Miller’s paraphrase of Psalm 23 says:

In peril, I remember:

Death’s dark vale holds no menace.

I lean into You;

your eternal presence comforts me.

In the words of the Passover Haggadah,
‘Dayanu: It is enough.’



 



All I have is a voice…

A couple of weeks ago on a Sunday evening,  I heard a wonderful selection of music and poetry on Radio 3, The Black Sun, themed around Oppenheimer and the development of the nuclear bomb. It is all worth a listen. https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m000llhd

Carlos Serbia ‘Black Sun’

But the selection that leapt out at me was part of the poem September 1, 1939 by W.H. Auden read by Iain Glen at about 43 minutes in to the programme. You can hear the whole poem read by Jeremy Irons here: https://www.thepoetryhour.com/poems/september-1-1939

September 1, 1939

I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-Second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death
Offends the September night.

…

All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.

Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.

I listened as I was preparing to return to Israel having been away for almost four months: an unexpected hiatus. I had left following the attack of October 7th when it was unclear how my work could or should go on. As the war in Gaza continues and the death toll mounts relentlessly and hostages remain both in Gaza and Israeli prisons and the United States and UK flex military muscle in Yemen and Syria and Iraq ‘the unmentionable odour of death offends’ the February sky.

It seems everyone is afraid: with good reason. And fear does not make fellowship easy and keeps pilgrims away and splinters organisations that have worked for decades to humanize the ‘other’ and tell the truth about Occupation and the daily lives of those affected by it. The Scots Hotel in Tiberias has been home to over one hundred evacuees from a village on the Lebanese border and that looks set to continue until the end of February anyway. The St Andrew’s House Hotel (Guest House) in Jerusalem is only partially open because of staff shortages. All workers from the West Bank have had permits revoked and cannot cross the separation barrier from Bethlehem into Jerusalem.

Tabeetha School has been adapting to missing students and occasional air raid sirens and the need to be ready to move to the safe room. These are difficult conditions to teach in and learn in. Although on the surface everything is calm, fear is not far away. The local families of the students who are not international have family in Gaza or are acutely aware of their minority status in Israeli society: cautious, anxious, keeping a low profile. And some staff have family members serving in the military. It is hard to balance the budget with missing school fees. Yet the sense of being one Tabeetha family persists: ‘an affirming flame’.

When I think of all this, I am glad to being returning to offer what support I can, despite my uncertainty and fear.

While in Scotland I have effectively been on deputation, speaking to congregations and presbyteries, telling them about the Church of Scotland’s work in Israel and Palestine, sharing the concerns and challenges posed by Palestinian Christians who wonder why the churches’ voices seem so muted.

Many people have said they find my presentations hopeful. This puzzles me, because I am not hopeful of war ending any time soon, or empathy growing or the trauma and post traumatic stress being well handled. What I have been doing, however, is sharing stories of brave individuals and organisations that refuse to hate, who share the Tent of Nations affirmation ‘We refuse to be enemies’. https://www.facebook.com/tentofnations/?locale=en_GB

Organisations like Rabbis for Human Rights, Parents Circle Family Forum, Musalaha, Sindyanna, Women wage Peace.

Individuals like Magen Inon https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2023/oct/19/hamas-attack-peace-revenge-border-war and Rev Dr Munther Isaac have spoken out in different ways https://www.redletterchristians.org/christ-in-the-rubble-a-liturgy-of-lament/ Their message echoes Auden’s written as the world tipped into World War Two: ‘We must love one another or die’.

Looking back, I can see that like many others I had adapted to the reality, ‘the normalisation’, formed by the way that the State of Israel was set up by expulsion of Palestinians and by fifty years of Occupation which severely damages Palestinians but also hurts Israelis. Some Israelis have always recognized this. I came across a letter written by some Israeli lawyers and scholars, including Shimon Tzabar, published in Haaretz on 22nd September 1967, which predicts so clearly the story of the next fifty years:

Our right to defend ourselves from extermination does not give us the right to oppress others.

Occupation entails foreign rule.

Foreign rule entails resistance.

Resistance entails repression.

Repression entails terror and counter-terror.

The victims of terror are mostly innocent people.

Holding on to the Occupied Territories will turn us into a nation of murderers and murder victims.

Let us get out of the Occupied Territories immediately.

Tzabar’s life is celebrated in a website https://www.shimontzabar.com/ His words seem to have little traction in the current situation. Yet, they were all he had.

Which brings me back to my return to Israel. It will be hard to get to friends in the Occupied Territories. It will be difficult to function in ‘this new normal’. But I have to try. Auden’s words remind me of what I believe is still true: we must love each other or die.

Is love enough? I think it depends what we understand by love. If love and justice are conjoined, if justice and peace hold hands, then love becomes something resilient and powerful, even if it hangs by a thread. As we turn towards Lent, and face with Jesus a journey to Jerusalem, we recognize the cost he bore.

What do I plan to do as I return to Israel? I remind myself that we have two ears and one mouth for a reason. I will try to listen. I will try to stand alongside. I will try to love as a way of life. And I will use my one voice where I can.

Reading the signs of the times

Dahlia Scheindlin is an Israeli pollster and commentator.

A recent headline in Haaretz Newspaper would have confirmed many Israelis’ worst fears: Three-quarters of Palestinians Support Hamas’ Attack on October 7, says new poll. But one further word points to a much more nuanced analysis. The word ‘Why?’

The raw data (of a very small sample) by the Arab World Research and Development Group (AWRAD) cannot be easily explained away. ‘Nearly 60 percent of respondents very much ‘supported the military operation carried out by the Palestinian resistance led by Hamas on October 7. Another 16 percent expressed moderate support.’ Haaretz writer Dahlia Scheindlin commented, ‘That’s three-quarters in total who supported the indefensible.’[1]

And I want to make clear, I do not support the indefensible. But I do want to understand what these results mean. The Palestinians I know or have encountered are warm, friendly, hospitable people, who wish no harm to anyone. For many years many Palestinians, including the Palestinian Christian community, have advocated for non-violent change, but they feel that their plight has been ignored by the world community. 

Why does ‘support’ for Hamas seem so strong?

Scheindlin points out that when asked for Hamas’ reason for the operation 35% said ‘to stop violations of Al-Aqsa.’ But 29% said ‘to free Palestine’ and 21% said to ‘break the siege on Gaza’. Half the respondents ‘chose a version of freedom.’

Palestinians are not free. They do not live in a Democracy. The Palestinian Authority is seen as weak and corrupt. People are afraid of Hamas and the Israeli military behave with near impunity. Violent extremist Zionists have been increasingly emboldened by support from the right-wing of the Israeli government and their violent and murderous actions go unchecked. People censor themselves all the time. Recently, many people in the West Bank and East Jerusalem have had their phones and search histories looked at at checkpoints and some have been arrested. People are reluctant to speak on camera about their current situation in case there are repercussions. 

Scheindlin quotes Huda Abuarquob, a long term civil society and peace activist, whose explanation for high support is that it is ‘a first reaction to an act that puts Gazans back on the map.’

I don’t know when she said this, but the irony is that systematic bombardment by Israeli forces is currently wiping Gaza off the map.

I heard from an Israeli friend who was appalled that a Palestinian woman with whom she has been friends for many years described feeling her heart lift when she saw the ruptures cut in the fence around Gaza on 7th October. There was a sudden gulf between them. She hadn’t understood how thoroughly trapped her friend had felt all her life.

According to Scheindlin, another key factor in stated Palestinian support for Hamas’ invasion of Israel is that Palestinians feel existentially alone. A second survey by The Institute for Social and Economic Progress showed that 56% of those polled felt they had no important strategic ally. Nor are there obvious home-grown leaders. One participant in a focus group said, ‘I feel that the Palestinian population is orphaned, there is no-one to lead them.’

Scheindlin comments, ‘In this lonely reality, some Palestinians I know were initially spirited by images of people breaking out of Gaza, even if they later found the full extent of the violence revolting.’

According to Scheindlin, while privately people are repulsed by the war crimes committed by Hamas, there is a “rally-round-the-flag” effect tinged with desperation. 

And there is also fear. Many Palestinians believe Hamas will not be defeated, and will in fact grow stronger, and people are afraid to speak out against them. The West Bank survey found that most peoples’ emotional state was ‘helplessness’.

Quoting Masha Gessen, Scheindlin concludes that in a state of war people are afraid to say the wrong thing both because of the police state and because of the psychic cost of breaking rank with a ‘mobilised, anxiety-saturated society’. They have been consuming media and social media that confirms their hopes and biases, and so they don’t have full information.

For me, Scheindlin’s conclusions are very important: when interpreting opinion polls like these ‘ we must consider the conceptual world of respondents who live in a society that has never been free and is invariably at war.’

Most of the time, for more than 75 years, that war has been going on away from the headlines and off the radar. Most Israelis had learned to trust the security provided by the military and did not give much thought to the situation of Palestinians in Gaza, or the West Bank or in Israel itself. As long as things were contained, there was ‘peace’.

Despite increasingly forlorn calls for hostage release and almost 25,000 deaths in Gaza, Netanyahu says that the war will not be over until Hamas is obliterated. Eventually, as in every war, there will be a cessation of hostilities. But how will that translate beyond peace keeping to peace making?

It is hard to imagine. The deep fears and woundedness on all sides will need to be faced and addressed. New leadership which respects the human rights of all will need to emerge. World consensus to restore the rule of international humanitarian law and investigate and punish all war crimes will need to be implemented. And above all, the vast majority of people, both Israeli and Palestinian, who just want to live in peace, will need to find a place of mutual support and healing. They will need to build trust and enjoy freedoms long curtailed and denied. As one of my friends says often, ‘It’ll take a miracle.’ 

[1] Three Quarters of Palestinians Support Hamas’ Attack on October 7, says New Poll. Why?  Dahlia Scheindlin Haaretz November 22, 2023

101 Days and counting…

Today is 101 days since hostilities erupted into the open with Hamas’ attack on southern Israel and the inevitable overwhelming response from the state of Israel. The toll of death and suffering and the fear that grips everyone involved in the conflict is hard to imagine, let alone describe.

A brief dip into the 84 page submission by South Africa to the International Court of Justice on 11th January and then into Israel’s detailed response the following day is almost like reading about two different conflicts. The polarisation between those siding with Israel and those siding with Palestinians, especially those in Gaza is almost absolute. There seems to be little recognition of the humanity of all.

Last Saturday I was part of a group in Nelson Mandela Square who read aloud the 84 page South African submission charging genocide. I read aloud the section describing the absolute destruction of all cultural assets in Gaza: every university, the library, the cultural centre, the museum, the archives of Palestinian life. One of the strengths of Palestinian identity has been a pride in traditional crafts like embroidery, and traditional music and dance. I have no doubt that this will survive, but so much has been lost.

At one point, as the catalogue of danger for pregnant mothers and new born infants was being read out, and the ever mounting numbers of dead and injured children repeated, a man pushed aggressively into the semi-circle. ‘Have Israeli children not died too?’ he shouted.

He did not stay to hear my answer. ‘Yes, Israeli children have died too. Yes, Israeli children are being held hostage. Yes, Israeli children have been frightened and traumatised by air raid sirens and rocket attacks. But tit for tat, running totals of loss and a refusal to look to ‘the day after’ the vicious assault on Gaza by land, sea and air does not make for a fear free and peaceful future for Israeli children.’

‘If the children are really your concern call for an immediate cease fire and hostage release. Demand a political solution. And don’t just say, ‘The other side are refusing to negotiate.’

There seem to be very few voices in Israeli society calling for realistic peace talks and future planning. Maoz Inon is one such voice. Yesterday he tweeted:

‘As someone who parents were both murdered in their home on October 7th, it’s as clear as daylight that we must:

  1. Bring back the hostages at any price.
  2. Stop this war and work for peace.
  3. Demand that the government and the security establishment take full responsibility for this systemic failure.
  4. Build a shared future and give some hope to every person between the rive and the sea; a future based on equality, security, justice, reconciliation, and human solidarity.’

‘At any price’ is, I think, a hyperbole, and not to be taken literally. But those who want to hold out against any form of negotiation with Hamas are not prioritising hostage release. At the moment, voices like Maoz’ and Ami Dar, who is vocal on X (Twitter), seem very isolated, but it is important to amplify them and to connect such voices together.

Yesterday was a public holiday in the U.S. commemorating Dr Martin Luther King. King was very often a lone voice, and his analysis dismissed as too radical. As Berenice King posted on X today:

‘Daddy…wasn’t assassinated because he wanted his children to be judged by the ‘content of their character’ but for dismantling racism, poverty and militarism.

He wanted corrective measures to eradicate racism, not the delusion that it doesn’t exist.’

Sometimes people ask, ‘Where is the Martin Luther King or the Desmond Tutu of our time?’ but neither of these men developed their views or their commitment to non-violent resistance in a vacuum. They were surrounded by others who encouraged, challenged, argued with and prayed for them.

Rev Dr Munther Isaac, Lutheran pastor of Christmas Church, Bethlehem has a challenge for each of us, ‘Where were you when Gaza was going though a genocide?’

For every day the war continues and the humanitarian apocalypse grows that question becomes more urgent.

Come, Prince of Peace

How do we hear the Christmas story and celebrate in worship in the light of the catastrophe enveloping Palestinians and Israelis in real time?

Dave Hardman, Methodist Liaison Officer with the Methodist Church, based ordinarily in Bethlehem but currently in the UK, suggested that the second candle of the Advent wreath – the Bethlehem candle – be left unlit this year in solidarity with Palestinian Christians this year.

Some churches have adopted this suggestion, and a liturgy adapted from the letter from Patriarchs and Heads of Churches to their congregations:

Advent Candle (Not) Lighting Liturgy

The lights don’t shine in Bethlehem

This Advent time.

Too much suffering and uncertainty.

Too much loss and grief.

Instead, the Christian people of the Holy Land

Call for an end to war;

Speak out for those suffering the most;

Give generously to support

The growing number of very needy people

Who have lost loved ones, homes, jobs

And face huge uncertainty.

Their prayer is for a lasting peace in their

Beloved Holy Land.

In Christ’s incarnation, they look forward to a time

‘When death shall be no more, neither mourning, nor crying,

Nor pain, for the former things have passed away.’ Rev 21:4[1]

To stand with them we choose not to light the second candle

In our Advent Wreath

And we pray, ‘Come, Immanuel, God-with-us, come be with your

Suffering people now.’ Amen

Others have not wished to reduce what little light we have in this dark Advent season. In one congregation I know there was a conversation in worship about what best to do. One woman pointed out that it seemed wrong to extinguish the peace candle at a time when peace seems so far from the experience of many. After a bit of further discussion, the congregation decided to light the 2nd Advent candle but put the lights on the Christmas tree out.

Other congregations have developed new liturgy of their own.

Another congregation adapted the words of their Advent candle song to reflect their concerns:

Hymn  A Candle is Burning (tune Away in a Manger)
A candle is burning, a flame warm and bright,
A candle of HOPE in December’s dark night
While angels sing blessings from heaven’s starry sky,
Our hearts we prepare now for Jesus is nigh.

One candle’s not burning, the candle of PEACE,
A prayer in our hearts now for conflict to cease
For Jesus is coming to show us the way
A message of peace for our world every day.

A candle is burning, a candle of LOVE,
A candle to point us to heaven above
A baby for Christmas, a wonderful birth
For Jesus is bringing God’s love to our earth.[2]

What matters is not the action, to light or not to light, but the thought and reflection that underpins whatever symbolic action is made.

The challenge from our Christian brothers and sisters in Israel-Palestine, and particularly those who worship in Bethlehem where this year the lights are not lit, is not to sentimentalise the Christmas story or separate it from the lived experience of many around the world: the poor, the marginal, those living under tyranny.

A few week’s ago I wrote a reflection on the Christmas story for Life &Work magazine. Conditions for mothers and new babies in Gaza are even worse now than I could imagine then. Rachel’s weeping for her children and the lack of comfort is unending.[3]

Luke’s account of the birth of Jesus begins with the political context. Augustus was Caesar and Quirinius was governor of Syria, territory which includes today’s Israel and Palestine. Then as now, ordinary people found their lives disrupted and worse. A heavily pregnant Mary was forced to make the journey with Joseph her husband to Bethlehem, David’s town. We think of images from around the world of weary women and frightened children and sad and humiliated men all on the move because of geo-political forces outwith their control. Into this world Jesus was born.

Bethlehem was overcrowded when Mary and Joseph got there, and unlike our classical manger scenes, I don’t think they would have been alone with the ox and ass. During the current war, strangers (Palestinian and Israeli) have opened their homes to shelter families. In Gaza, 30 or 40 crowded in to one house is not unusual. Mary would have given birth with perhaps a sheet for privacy, but the midwives would have been there for her, as medical personnel in Gaza have given their all with little equipment to give what comfort they can. When her son was born, Mary swaddled him and laid him in the hay. You use what you have in a crisis.

News is at a premium in times of war. Mobile phone charges are nursed, ingenious methods of recharging found. Never before has it been possible to be present with people in their terror as rockets rain down. Luke has the news of a saviour’s birth go to those who would ordinarily have been last to hear news: shepherds out on the hills with their sheep. That hillside is no longer bare and open to the skies. Bethlehem is now encircled by illegal settlements, the west bank countryside scored through by Israeli-only roads, Palestinians trapped in increasingly smaller enclaves. Yet the same stars shine overhead and the angel song, though muted, still comes to those on the edge of things:

‘Don’t be afraid! I am here with good news for you, which will bring great joy to all the people.’ Luke 2:10

The shepherds’ fear was overwhelming, yet they had enough faith that when the angels had left, they went down into Bethlehem and found Mary and Joseph and the baby, just as the angel had said.

In times of polarisation and brutality and ecological and humanitarian disaster, when it seems humanity itself is under threat; superficial, tinsel covered ‘good news’ does not ring true.

Childbirth is hard: painful, sweaty, dangerous without medical resources. Blood, sweat and tears birthed the Prince of Peace. Peace in our time, God’s dream, will be equally painful. It involves justice for all, recognition for all, a place for all. Just as it took imagination to see in the tiny newborn wrapped in cloths and lying in the hay a Saviour, so we need all our imagination to welcome the One named Jesus – Yeshua- Deliverer, Rescuer, in our lives and in our world now.

Come, Prince of Peace

God-with-us, Emmanuel

Into the mess and misery

Into the war and worry

Into the fear and forsakenness

Come, be born again today.

Amen

[1] Patriarchs and Heads of the Churches in Jerusalem: ‘Statement on the Celebration of Advent and Christmas in the midst of war’ November 10, 2023

[2] Words by Sandra Dean, (used with her permission), adapted by Sandy Forsyth.

[3] Life & Work December 2023

When the world was dark…

The manger scene in Christmas Church Bethlehem this year has the Christ child among the rubble.

‘Beloved, in these difficult times let us comfort ourselves with God’s presence amid pain, and even amid death, for Jesus is no stranger to pain, arrest, torture, and death. He walks with us in our pain.

God is under the rubble in Gaza. He is with the frightened and the refugees. He is in the operating room. This is our consolation. He walks with us through the valley of the shadow of death. If we want to pray, my prayer is that those who are suffering will feel this healing and comforting presence.’

Rev Dr Munther Isaac, pastor of Evangelical Lutheran Christmas Church, Bethlehem[1] preached these words of heartbreak and consolation on 22nd October, following the bombing of St. Porphyrius Greek Orthodox Church in Gaza, when 18 were killed and many injured and 400 others who had been sheltering there were displaced.

Since then, following the pause which allowed some hostages to be released and some humanitarian aid to enter Gaza, the destructive bombing, indiscriminate and total, has resumed. The Israeli Defence Force have issued warnings for civilians to move: but there is nowhere to go. It is reckoned there may be as many as 1.8M internally displaced people.

As I write, on December 5th, aid agencies have been unable to deliver much needed supplies, including water, food and fuel, and mobile phone networks have been cut. This, for family and friends who have used this point of contact, thin as a spider’s spun silk, as a way to keep going and keep hoping is torture. For those inside Gaza it must feel like confirmation that the world has forgotten them.

‘Why don’t you tear open the heavens and come down?’ yells the prophet, at a closed and darkened sky.[2]

What response is appropriate this Advent time?

Dave Hardman, Methodist Liaison Officer in Jerusalem, who like me is currently in the UK, has wanted to devise some way that our Advent liturgy might reflect our acknowledgement of the horror and distress being experienced in the Holy Land at this time. The second candle in the Advent ring is sometimes called the Bethlehem candle. Dave’s suggestion, which has been taken up by Methodist, United Reformed Church and Church of Scotland congregations, is not to light that candle this year, but to reflect on the words of the heads of churches and patriarchs in Jerusalem, calling their flocks to a time of spiritual reflection when celebration is not possible.[3] at http://bit.ly/unlit

There is a liturgy, using the 10th November statement as its inspiration:

Advent Candle (Not) Lighting Liturgy

The lights don’t shine in Bethlehem

This Advent time.

Too much suffering and uncertainty.

Too much loss and grief.

Instead, the Christian people of the Holy Land

Call for an end to war;

Speak out for those suffering the most;

Give generously to support

The growing number of very needy people

Who have lost loved ones, homes, jobs

And face huge uncertainty.

Their prayer is for a lasting peace in their

Beloved Holy Land.

In Christ’s incarnation, they look forward to a time

‘When death shall be no more, neither mourning, nor crying,

Nor pain, for the former things have passed away.’ Rev 21:4

To stand with them we choose not to light the second candle

In our Advent Wreath

And we pray, ‘Come, Immanuel, God-with-us, come be with your

Suffering people now.’ Amen

This is an action which may have its place in the UK and elsewhere, but some have reacted against it. ‘We need all the light we can get,’ they say. And that is a legitimate response. What we can’t do is ‘business as usual’. At the moment, for so many, this Advent time is a time of darkness and pain and suffering and fear.

This fear is shared by Israelis and Palestinians; by Jews, Muslims and Christians. It is shared in Jerusalem and Nazareth and Bethlehem and Ramallah and Gaza. The Christian community is less than 2% of the population, yet their influence in terms of providing care through education and hospitals and work programmes and psycho-social projects is immense. In Advent we look for the light. And we share what little light we have:

Will you come into our lives 

If we open them to you? 

When the world was dark 

And the city was quiet 

You came. 

You crept in beside us. 

Do the same this Christmas, Lord. 

Do the same this Christmas.[4]

[1] https://sojo.net/articles/god-under-rubble-gaza

[2] Isaiah 64:1

[3] https://en.abouna.org/content/patriarchs-and-heads-churches-jerusalem-issue-statement

[4] Part of Advent prayer Wild Goose Resource Group, Iona Community

How do we expand our aching hearts?

I’ve been back in Scotland for just over a month now. Plans and activities that were routine are now distant memories. I’m trying to plan ahead, looking to a return to Israel as Mission Partner based in Tiberias next to the Sea of Galilee. But there is so much to get my head around.

The Scots Hotel, Tiberias, and the Sea of Galilee, looking over to the Golan Heights

The Scots Hotel, Tiberias, is currently home to over 100 folk who were evacuated from their homes on the Lebanese border by the Israeli government.  As the Hotel looks after them, so some are helping with laundry and gardening and some are involved in running three play and learning groups with children of different ages.

I’ve been trying to keep in touch with staff but it’s not easy. One of our Filipino staff has already gone back. Two of our staff have been called up as army reserves. Some staff have been temporarily laid off. Many Arab or Palestinian Israelis are thinking they want away, planning to leave because they feel there are few opportunities for them in Israel. And when you talk to them people are cagey, reluctant to comment or speak freely.

Unease about a possible escalation of the war into Lebanon or Syria is growing and there is a feeling that though Hezbollah have not joined an outright war, as the attrition in Gaza grinds on and more of the Israeli army are caught into that, there’s a possibility of that front opening up.

Our staff from the St Andrew’s House Hotel in Jerusalem (the guesthouse has been rebranded) come from the West Bank and East Jerusalem. There is no government support for West Bank workers and so we are trying to find ways to support folks ourselves. Bethlehem is pretty much locked down. There are very few visas being issued to pass from the West Bank to Israel and an increase in check points and road closures have shut Palestinians in very small cantons, separate from one another. It is impossible, it seems, to go from Bethlehem to Ramallah or to Jericho. Unemployment is very high. The Palestinian Authority were not paying government employees their full salaries anyway, and now it is worse.

I am hearing about a marked increase in settler violence from one brave Israeli woman, part of a group called The Villages Group, who have supported Bedouin communities in the South Hebron hills in the occupied Palestinian territories for years. Settlers have been issued with guns and some now wear military uniforms. Acting with the army or under the gaze of soldiers, they have threatened families who don’t leave, stealing their sheep, invading their homes. On Monday she reported that at Wadi Jehiesh settlers broke the wind turbine that gives electricity to the village. Having resisted the aggression and violence for years, some families are now leaving. As H, one of the elders of the village, reported this, Erella said, ‘His voice bore no anger and no vulgar curse about this destruction. Only stable presence of one who already knows that he is helpless to change things, but refuses to give up his inner freedom. A complaint was lodged by the lawyer, and we sent photos. “It helps”, she thanked us. Our hands, too, are helpless, but our aching heart is called upon to expand, meeting so much pain.’[1]

‘Inner freedom’ has been my experience of the dignified and resilient refusal to give up hope that characterizes most Palestinians. It is seen in the motto of the Tent of Nations: ‘We refuse to be enemies.’

Entrance to Tent of Nations https://tentofnations.com/

There is so much fear and pain and grief and loss. People are polarized and find it hard to empathise with others who are not like them.

How do we expand our aching hearts?

A friend posted a manifesto written by an American Rabbi which might give a clue: 

Today I am taking sides.

I am taking the side of Peace.
Peace, which I will not abandon
even when its voice is drowned out
by hurt and hatred,
bitterness of loss,
cries of right and wrong.

I am taking the side of Peace
whose name has barely been spoken
in this winnerless war.

I will hold Peace in my arms,
and share my body’s breath,
lest Peace be added
to the body count.

I will call for de-escalation
even when I want nothing more
than to get even.
I will do it
in the service of Peace.

I will make a clearing
in the overgrown
thicket of cause and effect
so Peace can breathe
for a minute
and reach for the sky.

I will do what I must
to save the life of Peace.
I will breathe through tears.
I will swallow pride.
I will bite my tongue.
I will offer love
without testing for deservingness.

So don’t ask me to wave a flag today
unless it is the flag of Peace.
Don’t ask me to sing an anthem
unless it is a song of Peace.
Don’t ask me to take sides
unless it is the side of Peace[2]

[1] https://villagesgroup.wordpress.com/

[2] Irwin Keller from California wrote these words on October 17th, 2023, ten days after the terrifying Hamas attacks which murdered hundreds of Israelis, both soldiers and civilians. https://www.irwinkeller.com/itzikswell/taking-sides

A future free of fear

I wrote this blog last week, and so in a fast-moving situation it is somewhat dated, but it mostly holds true.

Looking back to a time before 7th October 2023 and the Hamas slaughter of so many is like looking into a different world. I had just said farewell to a visiting group from Scotland charged with supporting our Resource and Presence in Israel-Palestine. I was excited about development plans for the Galilee Garden in the church grounds in Tiberias, and I was looking forward to my first visit to Gaza. A week ago today (11th October)we were scheduled to visit Al Ahli Hospital. I was to be travelling with Doug Dicks, Regional Liaison Officer (Presbyterian Church USA) and Rev Dr Stewart Gillan, my fellow mission partner in Israel.

Now a week later, I am sitting in my study in Glasgow and straining to hear news from friends and partners. And then, last night, the worst news. Al Ahli Hospital had been bombed. The numbers are still unclear, but it seems many hundreds have been killed and many more injured. The hospital had been a place of refuge for over one thousand people, who had hoped that a hospital would be relatively safe. It wasn’t.

We are beyond shocked that this place of healing has been devastated and the lives of so many patients, medical staff and ordinary Gazans seeking a place of safety while under intense rocket fire have been lost.

The news of the slaughter had a polarising effect on X (formerly known as Twitter) and Facebook and among good friends. Some wanted to prove this was a failed Hamas rocket and not an Israeli precision strike. Others stuck firmly to their belief that only Israel has the fire power capable of causing such carnage.  Both Hamas and the IDF are blaming the other.  Truth is always the first casualty in war.

But the polarisation driving people further into their tribes and fixed opinions is not good soil for growing peace. Somehow, we have to hold on to the humanity of everyone involved. Somehow, we have to be able to recognise that the 16 year blockade of Gaza and the increased settlement building and belligerent behaviour from extremist settlers in the West Bank and the Israeli government and the world’s failure to do more than contain an impossible situation has led to where we are.

And where we are is not good for Israelis either. Many have connections with those killed or injured. Many are army reservists or have family who are. Many peace activists are struggling. It is hard for an Israeli to hear from a Palestinian friend you admire and respect that her heart lifted with joy when she saw the breaches in the security fence around Gaza because it meant change is possible, even if, as we now know, inhumane and indecent things were done in the name of freedom.

And yet, there are still voices, often muted at the moment, asking that vengeance not be carried out in their name, or their child’s name; asking that the work done to build bridges in understanding should continue, even as urgent work is done to find common ground on which to build a future free of fear for Israeli and Palestinian.

Everyone is afraid. People in Israel-Palestine are being arrested for posting the ‘wrong’ thing on social media. Legitimate protest is being characterised as antisemitic.

I was reminded this morning of the prophet Micah’s call: He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? Micah 6:8

Justice, kindness and humility are present in the current unholy mess, because God is present, but their voices need amplified and we all need to join in. We must call the UK Government to press for an immediate ceasefire, for hostages to be released, for humanitarian aid to be allowed in and for the rule of international law to be applied. We must call for the world to look beyond the immediate crisis to a longer term solution which guarantees safety and self-determination and an adequate standard of living to Palestinians and Israelis alike. We must, as I’ve said before, hold Israelis and Palestinians together in our hearts.

Together in our hearts

Francesca Albanese, the UN special rapporteur on the occupied Palestinian territories, has a marmite effect. You love her or hate her. Whenever she posts on Twitter (X) about an atrocity in Huwara or shootings and home demolitions elsewhere she receives a torrent of abuse. She is seen as very partisan, supporting the Palestinian cause, and therefore an enemy of the State of Israel. She says her focus is on the rule of law and on upholding UN conventions on human rights.

Her response to the horrific attacks by Hamas militia on October 7th, which took the Israeli Defense Force by surprise and which are not yet contained, demonstrates this. She does not support the violence and bloodshed, which she and many other commentators have warned about for years. Today Al Jazeera reported her reaction:

It’s possible to stand with both: UN official

Francesca Albanese, UN special rapporteur on the occupied Palestinian territories, warns of a dangerous narrative taking shape around the ongoing conflict.

“I am totally petrified, I am shocked and appalled by the violence, But before anything else, I am horrified by the narrative because it is possible, and necessary, to stand both with the Palestinians and the Israelis without resorting to ethical relativism, to selective outrage or worse, calls for violence,” Albanese told Al Jazeera.

“Policymakers should prioritise restoring legality and accountability, and restoring diplomacy and peace, rather than advocating for more violence or standing with one side or the other,”

Francesca Albanese

“Policymakers should prioritise restoring legality and accountability, and restoring diplomacy and peace, rather than advocating for more violence or standing with one side or the other,” she added.

Her initial response, to utterly condemn the terrorist action against civilians on a scale hard to imagine is absolutely the right one. It is also right to condemn the desecration of bodies and any scenes of jubilant celebration, which are sickening.

But what is the ‘dangerous narrative’ she is warning about? There are some Israeli politicians and commentators who have called for Gaza to be absolutely flattened. In a completely cynical move, since there is nowhere for Gazans to go, Prime Minister Netanyahu called for Gazans to leave. The defense minister Yoav Gallant has described Gazans as ‘human animals’. One politician has promised that this war with Gaza will be the last one. In order to keep this promise, Israel will need to continue to bombard the densely populated enclave. Already, electricity, water and supplies have been cut off. Gaza is 26 miles long and 8 miles wide at its widest point. This makes it smaller than the Isle of Arran, yet almost 2.3 million people live there, grossly overcrowded in densely packed high-rise buildings with no air raid shelters.

My colleague Rev Dr Stewart Gillan and I, with colleague Doug Dicks of the PCUSA, have been planning a visit to Gaza which was due to take place 10-12th October. We were planning to visit partners with the Near East Council of Churches including their kindergarten and health clinics and Ahli Arab Hospital. Since Saturday 7th, Ahli Arab Hospital has declared a state of emergency, is running short of supplies and medics and is being used as a makeshift safe space by Gazans sheltering from air strikes as well as trying to treat many seriously injured patients. It sounds like hell on earth.

In her statement Albanese says, ‘It is possible and it is necessary to stand with both the Palestinians and the Israelis without resorting to ethical relativism.’

For many years the Church of Scotland have used a prayer by Christian Aid:

Pray not for Arab or Jew,
for Palestinian or Israeli,
but pray rather for ourselves,
that we might not
divide them in our prayers
but keep them both together
in our hearts.

This is not easy when the narrative dictates that you choose sides, and privilege one ethnic group over another. But this is where Albanese calls for the restoration of legality and accountability. World leaders giving unqualified support to Israel are continuing to ignore the crimes against humanity perpetuated by a government which discriminates against its Arab citizens and ignores the human rights of Palestinians. The polarization of opinion, with some praising the actions of Hamas and some giving unqualified support to the state of Israel, perpetuates the 75 year-old problem and dehumanizes all involved.

Today in my inbox, from the Centre of Action and Contemplation https://cac.org/ comes some words from Archbishop Desmond Tutu exploring ‘God’s dream for the world through a message of hope, justice, peace, and inclusion’.

Tutu says:  ‘We can look at the life of Jesus to see what God asks of us. Jesus came into a deeply divided and polarized society…The world saw a veritable miracle unfolding before its very eyes as all sorts and conditions of women and men, rich and poor, slave and free, Jew and Gentile—all these came to belong in one fellowship, one communion. They did not regard one another just as equals. That in itself would have been a huge miracle…. No, they regarded one another not just as equals but as sisters and brothers, members of one family, God’s family.’[1]

The narrative of one family is a hard one to hold right now for Jews, Muslims and Christians but it is the only story that holds out hope that a way can be found to live together in peace. And ineffectual as it seems, and despised by some as the UN Declaration of Human Rights is, it is the tool we have right now to move beyond partisan rhetoric and restore diplomacy and build genuine peace, as Albanese suggests.

[1] Desmond Tutu with Douglas Abrams, God Has a Dream: A Vision of Hope for Our Time (New York: Image Books/Doubleday, 2005), 19–22.