|
A VISIT TO ISRAEL -- May 30-June 10, 2005. David Renwick I have just returned from a remarkable twelve day visit to Israel -- with my wife, Currie, and with 45 members of Temple Adath Israel in Lexington, Kentucky, and Temple Shalom in Louisville. No trip to Israel can focus on the "Holy Land of old" without dealing in some way with the present situation of conflict between Israelis and Palestinians. Indeed, this particular trip would not have taken place had it not been for the 2004 General Assembly resolutions calling for an examination of Presbyterian investments in Israel and expressing opposition to the construction of a "wall and other barriers" between Israeli and Palestinian controlled territory. In taking this trip to Israel, my second visit, I was, under no illusion that it would be politically neutral. My first visit, in 1997, with a group largely composed of Presbyterian pastors led by Ben Johnson of Columbia Seminary, had certainly not been neutral: the orientation was clearly Palestinian, not so much by design as circumstance! Our bus driver was Palestinian, and on more than one occasion poignantly pointed out his old family home in Jerusalem -- a large and beautiful house taken over by the Israelis in 1949. In Jerusalem, we stayed at the Catholic study center at Tantur. Many of the staff at Tantur were Palestinian Christian from Bethlehem: they talked of the peer pressure exerted on their children to become Muslim, pressure that was increasing daily as the Palestinian Christian population decreased significantly through emigration. From the roof at Tantur we watched faithful Muslim men and women of all ages avoid the military checkpoint between (Palestinian) Bethlehem and Jerusalem by climbing over the walls into the Tantur grounds during Ramadan: for some, passing through the grounds was the only way to get to the Dome of the Rock Jerusalem for prayer, and for others it was the only way to avoid lengthy and humiliating questioning and searches at the hands of young Israeli soldiers. We traveled to the village of Ibillin, near Haifa, where we met a remarkable Palestinian Christian, Father Elias Chacour, the first Palestinian graduate of Hebrew University in Jerusalem. Father Chacour's peacemaking efforts and his establishing of educational institutions for his people are a remarkable testimony to the power of God throughout years of turmoil and pain (see, for example, his book, Blood Brothers and www.pilgrimsofibillin.org). While in Israel, to be sure, we also met with a representative of the Jewish peace movement and made a profoundly moving visit to Yad Vashem, the Jerusalem Holocaust Museum. There was no question, though, that our overall perspective and the emotions of most if not all of us, were tied in with the injustices and difficulties experienced by our Palestinian friends and not with the majority Jewish population (for more information on the Palestinian point of view see, for example, the web-site www.ifamericansknew.org). On the other hand, other connections on this side of the ocean also bound me closely to the Jewish community. Three years ago, my congregation, Second Presbyterian Church in Lexington, Kentucky, began a building project that would involve relocating our 40 year-old Meals on Wheels program for over 9 months. For those months, the program functioned without a hitch (and without ham sandwiches) from the kitchen of the local Reform Temple. Members of the Temple had served regularly in the program, and each Christmas Day for many years had maintained delivery to clients. Their hospitality in this period was remarkable. Furthermore, on an academic level, for five years in the mid 1980's my doctoral research was focused on understanding the role in Jewish life and Jesus' ministry of the first century Pharisees -- from the perspective of Jewish scholarship. In these happy years, through their books, Jewish scholars became my conversation partners day and night. Indeed, one Jewish scholar, Jacob Neusner, chose to publish the dissertation in a series he edited (the Brown Series in Judaic Studies). [For a recent remarkable book on Jewish Christian understanding see the work of an Orthodox Jewish scholar, Michael Wyschogrod, Abraham's Promise, edited by Kendall Soulen; see also Soulen's article in the Christian Century, July 27, 2004]. With such a background, it should perhaps have been a given that my interest would have been stirred by the action of the 2004 General Assembly to consider selective divestment from multi-national corporations doing business in Israel, an action stemming from the slowness of the peace process, and the expression of opposition to the construction of a dividing wall in Israel between the Palestinian and Israeli communities. The truth, however, is that I was more annoyed than interested. I'm often cynical of General Assembly pronouncements and paid little attention to the resolutions, wondering what good would come out of yet another political pronouncement from yet another Assembly. With all due respect to the Assembly delegates, whom, I know, worked night and day to grasp and vote intelligently on their material -- do the governments of the United States or Israel really care what 2.6 million (and rapidly decreasing) Presbyterians think? And while our Palestinian Christian brothers and sisters, may have been encouraged by what we said (and I do not want to minimize the importance of this) my perennial question is pragmatic: "will anything positive really happen as a consequence?" Indeed, in the weeks that followed the Assembly, my cynicism increased as I read of the anger and frustration of national American Jewish organizations, with whom we Presbyterians have had excellent working relationships over the years seemingly caught off guard by the GA's action. In the local church my mantra has always been that church members can frequently agree to disagree quite amicably, but catch them off guard with a decision that has been made without their knowledge, or with insufficient or misleading supporting information, and, well, then they'll get mad: and rightly so! My outsider's guess was that the same thing was happening here: inadequate preparation (for whatever reason) by staff before the Assembly, and overwhelming busy-ness by commissioners during the Assembly, led to a Friday afternoon motion embraced emotionally, with no clear cut understanding of the wider consequences of the action . . . especially those consequences relating to national and local Jewish/ Presbyterian relations. The local ramifications began to hit home in Lexington, Kentucky, in mid-November, 2004. On Sunday, November 14, the Lexington Herald-Leader carried news of a threat of arson against the Presbyterian Church for "anti-Israel and anti-Jewish" attitudes. The threat, condemned by leaders of the Union for Reform Judaism and the Anti-Defamation League, was an extreme response to the General Assembly's resolutions. The report of the potential arson threat was widely read in my congregation that morning, and that evening our Session met for its monthly stated meeting. In the course of business the Session quite naturally asked me for a more detailed explanation of the General Assembly action leading to the threat, and questioned me as to whether anything more needed to be done, especially in terms of our relationship with the nearby Temple. I indicated that I would contact my colleague, Rabbi Marc Kline, to talk together as soon as possible. It was a busy time of year, and I was to head out of town for continuing education at the end of the following week. I quietly cursed the General Assembly for a resolution that I believed would lead nowhere and which was now giving me an unasked-for extra task! I contacted Rabbi Kline the next day. It was clear on the phone that he was not happy with the Presbyterian Church, and mentioned details of the resolution with which I was unfamiliar. It was not hard for me to see that my work had only just begun, and that I quickly needed to become familiar with the details of the situation before we met that Thursday. I quietly cursed the GA yet again as I sought out information. I looked for a copy of the minutes of the action so that I could have the exact wording of the resolution. I browsed the internet for reactions to the resolution by Jewish groups, by Presbyterian groups, and by other bodies and denominations. It was not hard to find diversity of opinion in various Presbyterian groups. To my surprise, however, I also found diversity of opinion in the Jewish community. While some groups like the Zionist Organization of America and B'nai B'rith saw the action as endangering Israel's very existence, there were clearly other voices to be heard. Some were Israeli (see the left-wing www.gush-shalom.org) [interestingly I also discovered that there were Israeli right-wingers opposed to the wall, who saw it as the first, lamentable, step in defining an independent Palestinian territory; e.g., www.jafi.org.il/education/actual/conflict/disengagement ] and some were Jewish American (see www.peacenow.org, www.endtheoccupation.org, www.jewishvoiceforpeace.org; also the magazine Tikkun, March/April 2005). These Jewish voices believed that the divestment move was not a bad idea, and certainly not necessarily anti-Israel or anti-Semitic. They also believed that, with the GA that even if the existence of the wall could be in some way justified, nevertheless, the location of the wall (frequently located in territory that before 1967 belonged to Jordan, that is, beyond what is called "the Green Line") was clearly cause for much injustice against and suffering by innocent Palestinians. Along the way in my investigation I also discovered that while the divestment issue mentions corporations doing business in Israel in 'general,' there is nevertheless one corporation in particular that is the likely focus of any action: Caterpillar, whose bulldozers have demolished countless Palestinian homes. Within a few days I thought I was ready for Marc's visit, armed with phrases such as
But I was not ready. I handed Marc the neat package of documents I had gathered, and spouted out some of my pre-packaged statements. He read quickly. The resolution, he said, was clearly one-sided: the Palestinian authorities were asked to do nothing and the Israeli government everything. The term "occupation," he said, pre-supposed a view of history that assumed the previous existence of an Arab Palestinian state, when the truth was that there had never ever been an Arab Palestinian state. And while I thought that I had some idea about the history of the region in the 20th century, he spoke of events and actions that left my knowledge in the dust. Then, to top off the conversation, which lasted about an hour, he concluded by saying that what saddened him most about the present situation was that he was being forced to take an aggressive stance when the fact was that he himself was in the peace camp among his fellow Jews: the location of parts of the wall and some of the actions of the Israeli government bothered him too! Nevertheless, as we left I had the distinct impression that from his point of view I was personally responsible not only for the GA action, but for changing the course of the Presbyterian Church in the days to come. I was upset! I had better things to do than focus on the national church! I was busy with God's work in the local church! Didn't Marc know that Advent was coming? When I calmed down, I remained fearful that Jewish Christian relations in Lexington had or would soon deteriorate into nothing, and while I was at peace that I couldn't do much about the national church, the local situation was my territory, and there was work to be done. Thanksgiving came and went. Back in town after Thanksgiving, I called Marc again. It was not until mid-December that we were able to meet. This time we met on neutral turf: at a local Chinese Restaurant. I had done more homework and planning for the new year. Our upcoming Spring Wednesday night program at Second was now going to include an 8-12 week session on the theology, processes and recent actions of the Presbyterian Church, with presentations on both sides of the Israeli/Palestinian issue. We wanted Marc to be one of the speakers; another speaker would be local Presbyterian pastor, Gary Brooks, who had worked on a number of occasions with a Christian peacemaking team in Hebron. I also checked and double-checked the GA resolution and other sources of information to be sure of the facts. As I now saw it,
[Fortunately, the even more loaded term, "apartheid wall" was not used in the GA document. I would later discover that one of the GA resolution's opening comments, that "the 'Separation Barrier,' currently under construction, consists of a twenty-five-foot high concrete wall meandering through mostly Palestinian lands, plus stretches of electrified barbed-wire fence extensions of the wall" is a classic case of a half-truth prejudicing the whole case.
As Marc and I ate and talked, I mentioned the plans for the Spring program at Second, and Marc agreed to speak. He also mentioned that he was leading a tour of Israel in June, 2005, along with Rabbi Stanley Miles of Temple Shalom in Louisville. He asked if I would be interested in joining the tour, and if so, he would see if Rabbi Miles had any difficulties with my coming. I said that I was intrigued and would let him know. We had a good meal, and as we left he wished me a merry Christmas! Without thinking I replied -- "and to you too" . . . and paused . . . and we laughed. I signed up for the trip. I requested funds from the Peacemaking Committee of Transylvania Presbytery who became partial sponsors. I knew that my wife, Currie, was a better peacemaker than I, and asked our church Mission Committee to sponsor her -- which they were willing to do. In the meantime, the Wednesday night programs went well. The stories of pain and injustice on both sides of the issue, Israeli and Palestinian, were apparent. Indeed, for me, what began to emerge more clearly with each presentation was that everyone has their story, everyone is at some point justified, depending both on where that story starts (e.g., with the pogroms of the 19th and 20th centuries, or the refusal of nations to let Jews immigrate in the 1930's, or the taking of Palestinian land and houses in 1948, or the threat to Israel's very existence in 1967, or the ongoing injustice of the Israeli government since 2001) -- and on who one knows who has lost life, limb or hope. The story is tragic in the truest sense of the word. The Spring went quickly. My wife, a librarian prepared better than I. She found an excellent resource by Time journalist Mitch Frank, Understanding the Holy Land (Viking, 2005), and began reading mysteries set in Israel by the late Batya Gur (available at our local library). I was concerned more with questions that the group from the two Temples might ask of me. As far as I knew, Currie and I were the only two Gentiles on the trip. I was their guest and did not want to abuse hospitality, but my faith is unabashedly Christocentric. Marc and I talked more: it was important for me to know that he knew my Christology and that, while I had no intention of abusing the hospitality of the group, if asked about my understanding of Jesus, I would have to tell my fellow travelers that I thought that Jesus was the savior not just of Christians (a good Marcus Borg line), but of the world. On the other hand, it was also important for him to know that converting the group was not my goal -- that I had a hard enough time getting Christians to believe in the incarnation without focusing my time and energy on Jews! We talked openly and were at ease. (As it turned out, Currie and I were not the only Gentiles on the trip. There were three others: a fellow Presbyterian whose daughter had converted, and two spouses who were non-practicing Christians).
So what did we learn and experience?
So what of the General Assembly resolutions? What of divestment? What of the wall? With regard to resolutions in general -- as our Moderator, Dick Ufford-Chase has observed, some good things have come out of the debacle. Congregations of Christians and Jews are talking with each other, and the immediate anger seems to have died down. This is no justification, however, for what I still believe to be a hastily compiled resolution about an enormously complex issue (less than a week to craft such far-reaching resolutions is to me, systemically troubling). With regard to divestment -- I have no doubt that divestment from Caterpillar or any other corporation will do nothing whatsoever to hasten peace: if anything the action, if anyone notices, will convey to the Israelis that they are yet again "under attack." And when under attack from the outside, what do people do best? They increase their resistance to outside forces rather than decrease it. Furthermore, I believe that the divestment approach is now irrelevant: the Middle East has changed since the divestment decision. Arafat has gone. Sharon is implementing withdrawal of settlers, at a great political price. Encouragement of both Palestinian and Israeli peacemakers, and building alliances, not wielding threats (as if we were the powerhouse we once were), should be our primary motivating tool as peacemakers. However, if divestment still takes place at the next General Assembly, then Fourth Presbyterian, Chicago's resolution should not be ignored: re-investment in Israel, in specific companies "whose business in Israel is positive, helpful, and peaceful" needs to be announced clearly and simultaneously. With regard to the security barrier -- it's presence and appearance are tragic. Its location is frequently unjust and oppressive. But its rapid removal is no guarantee that peace will be a result. Continued pressure on our government and support for those who focus on the just location of the wall will be far more productive than continuing to call for its dismantlement. Indeed, in a strange, but Reformed way, I believe that it is quite possible that the "sinful wall" may work for the good we all want. That is, the barrier, for the first time, defines graphically and geographically that a Palestinian territory does in fact exist, as does a secure Israel. With such truths established, perhaps the political process will be set free to work out the next stage: a peace that in time, by mutual consent, will bring down all kinds of other walls as well. And, finally, with regards to two brave Rabbis, Marc Kline and Stan Miles who agreed to take a Presbyterian along for the ride -- my heartfelt thanks. As they say, and as we all desire: Shalom! |