A VISIT TO ISRAEL -- May 30-June 10, 2005.

David Renwick
Second Presbyterian Church
460 East Main Street, Lexington, KY 40507

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

  • "this is not about being anti-Israel but about justice;"
  • and "whatever I may think, and I'm not really sure, you need to know that not all Presbyterians agree with this resolution";
  • and "you may not understand how we Presbyterians work, but the General Assembly does not dictate what we all believe";
  • and "we Presbyterians are famous for the fact that the word 'process,' as in 'process of phased selective divestment,' could take years for us to complete, and doesn't guarantee any foregone outcome";
  • and "but of course the resolution is from a Palestinian point of view because our connection historically and in the present is naturally with Palestinian Christians;"

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,

  • While the resolution tries to share responsibility between Israelis and Palestinians, Marc was right: it clearly calls only on the Israeli authorities to take action, with no parallel call to Palestinian authorities.
     
  •  With regard to divestment, the document does indeed open itself up to the charge of not just being "anti-injustice" but of being "anti-Israel." A simple, yet critical, addition such as that suggested in a motion of the Session at Fourth Presbyterian, Chicago, on November 21, 2004 (see www.fourthchurch.org/session1104.html) could have softened the perception in one fell swoop. The suggestion of Fourth was to seek an amendment to the resolution to ensure that if divestment ever took place, then "whatever proceeds are realized from the sale of those holdings be reinvested in corporations whose business in Israel is positive, helpful, and peaceful."
     
  • The GA resolution contained non-neutral emotionally charged words relating to the "wall." I'm a slow learner, but I began to realize that "security fence" and "security wall" tended to be terms used by pro-Israel advocates, while the more loaded term "separation barrier" was the preferred term of pro-Palestinians. Our GA resolution used various terms interchangeably, but clearly preferred to speak of the wall in Palestinian terms as a "separation barrier."

[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.

  •     True, 80% of the barrier passes through Palestinian land, some of which causes significant hardship to Palestinians (especially near the town of Qalqilya).
  •     But false, the barrier is not primarily a wall: in fact, less than 10% of the barrier is wall, most of it is hi-tech fence, no different from much of the fence that has existed in Gaza without significant present objection since 1994 (see the www.wikipedia.org article on the barrier structure).
  •     And "less than truthful by omission," there is no mention in GA minutes of the fact that on June 30, 2004, two days before the GA action, the Israeli Supreme Court acknowledged the injustice of the location of parts of the barrier and told the Israeli government to re-route a 35 mile stretch. Among other statements, the Supreme Court said "The route of the separation fence severely violated the right of the population and their freedom of movement . . . their livelihood is severely impaired . . . these injuries are not proportionate. They can be substantially decreased by an alternate route" (see The Guardian, June 30, 2004 at www.guardian.co.uk/israel/Story/0,2763,1250608,00.html). ]
Rabbi Stanley Miles, Rabbi Marc Kline, "Rabbi" David Renwick
Rabbi Stanley Miles, Rabbi Marc Kline,
"Rabbi" David Renwick

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?

  • That a good Jewish guide will tell good Jewish people that Jesus was a good Jewish boy named Josh, much of whose teaching is in line with the prophets of Israel. Our guide spoke well and thoughtfully of Jesus and his teaching, placing him in the historical context of the Judaism of the time. At one point I was given the microphone to provide a "Christian view" on the origins of Christianity. At another point some of us joked about the possibility that the Jewish freedom fighting Maccabees (of about 150 years before Christ) were not really Jewish but Scottish, possibly even Presbyterian (the MacAbees, you know, kin to the McAtees).
     
  • That being at some "holy spots" does nothing for the soul, while at others the soul is inspired. Standing on the recently excavated southern steps of the ancient Temple in Jerusalem -- unknown to the group, but treasured by Currie and me, we were close to the gate where Simon Peter healed a paralyzed man shortly after the first day of Pentecost, saying "I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give to you" (Acts 3:2). On another day, four of us took a taxi to Capernaum, the fishing village in Galilee where Jesus set up his home base. The foundations of some houses and the synagogue from Jesus' time (built by a Roman centurion, Luke 7:5) are still visible. Quietly, with no other tourists there we remembered Jesus simple but powerful call to follow him.
     
  • Crowds on Jeruselem DayThat passions run high! We visited the underground tunnels that follow the foundations of the ancient Temple, hearing later that the opening of the tunnels in 1996 caused riots in which 80 people, mostly Palestinian, died. At that very moment, while we were in the tunnel, thousands of Israeli youth opposing withdrawal from occupied territory were celebrating Jerusalem Day at the nearby Western Wall. We saw their exuberance and national pride.
     
  • We learned that there was diversity of viewpoints and concerns within the group itself. Conversation was not 'guarded' simply because an 'outsider' was present. Diverse viewpoints concerning the relationship between Jews and Arabs among Israel's own population were acknowledged, as was the difficulty of getting North American Jews to see the situation as multi-faceted and not one-dimensional.
     
  • That the "official establishment" of the Orthodox branch of Judaism in Israel, and its rising Lubavitch wing with its interest in a messiah -- not Jesus, but the late Rabbi Menachem Schneerson -- is of immense concern to non-Orthodox Jews. We learned that while Orthodox synagogues receive state support, the less than thirty congregations of the Reform movement receive little or none. In the United States, the Reform movement represent about 1.5million Jews (about 25% of the Jewish population), whereas in Israel Reform Rabbis have no standing (e.g., they cannot perform marriages).
     
  • Overlooking JeruselemThat lively worship from the Psalms and prophets can be powerful, even in Hebrew. On the Sabbath, we attended a remarkable Friday service of "praise and worship" (all in Hebrew of course) at one of the Reform congregations in Jerusalem, Kol HaNeshama, and visited the Great (Orthodox) Synagogue in Jerusalem on Saturday morning. We ended a memorable day by celebrating the ending of the Sabbath ("havdalah") overlooking the walls of old Jerusalem -- and overlooking, too, the old Scottish Church in Jerusalem. Among the group, too, there were five remarkable teenagers, who read Scripture in various services as part their bar/bat-mitzvahs. On the Sabbath we also rode a "Sabbath elevator" . . . no buttons to push!
     
  • We learned that for many Jews the need for a Jewish homeland was not just a reaction to the holocaust alone, but was for many more closely linked with the belief that anti-Semitism would always be a recurring issue, and that only a Jewish nation with a Jewish government could guarantee that its doors would always be open to Jews. The painful story of the inability of would-be immigrants to find nations (including the United States) willing to take in German Jews in the 1930's, before the Holocaust, was, for many, a stronger motive for Zionism than the Holocaust itself.
     
  • That this same issue, the non-existence of a Jewish state that would open its doors to immigrants in the 1930's, remains for many Israelis the key factor in their analysis of the present situation with the Palestinians. That is, a Jewish state with a Palestinian majority is unthinkable, but inevitable, unless the Palestinians are given their own state. Present and future demographic realities point inescapably in this direction: presently, for example, out of a total population of 6.7 million people in Israel, there are about 1.3 million Arabs who hold Israeli citizenship (people whose families were resident within the boundaries of pre-1967 Israel prior to the creation of the State in 1948). However, if the West Bank and Gaza were to be declared Israeli territory and citizenship eventually granted to its population, 3.7m more Palestinian Arabs would eventually be made citizens (that is, 5m Arabs to 5.4m Jews). Given present birth rates, the Arab population would soon outnumber Jews, and would create a Palestinian majority that would undermine one of the very reasons for Israel's existence: a state of Jews, for Jews, governed by Jews. For many Israeli Jews of various political stripes this demographic situation is the most compelling reason to create a separate Palestinian homeland. While this viewpoint is clearly not the only voice in Israel, it seemed to me to be a key piece in the puzzle of finding areas of mutual self-interest, which I consider to be the only way that a peaceful future will emerge for both sides.
     
  • We learned that the meaning of the Holocaust, and even the necessity of the Holocaust museum in Jerusalem are themselves debated issues among Israelis. Among those who emigrated to Israel ("made aliyah") prior to World War II there are some, for example, including the father-in-law of an Israeli whom we met, who argue that those who did not join the early immigrants like himself in the late 19th and early 20th centuries had only themselves to blame! It was a stunning moment to hear this (awful) thought coming from the lips of a faithful Israeli!
     
  • Uri RegevWe heard many powerful Jewish voices for peace and justice who need to feel that they are supported and not condemned. We heard Uri Regev, Executive Director of the World Union of Progressive Judaism, speak about the need of justice for all in Israel -- including strangers in their midst (Deut.10:19). We met with Rabbi Edgar Nof and members of "Temple Or Hadash" in Haifa. Among its many ministries, Or Hadash cares for Israeli victims of terror who are provided little or no government assistance when a family bread-winner is killed or injured (true, the Palestinian suffering is enormous, but it's important to know that it is not just Palestinians who are left homeless by acts of terror). We visited the Ofek School near Akko, a school reaching out to at-risk children, including the children of former the Lebanese Christian militia who are regarded as traitors by some of their fellow Arabs. We stayed the night at Kibbutz Yahel in the southern desert. Kibbutz Yahel farms land that is technically in Jordan, but which the Jordanian government has permitted them to keep -- in part because they and their fellow kibbutzim in the area have shared their technology with Jordanian farmers across the valley, and their fruit with Jordanian soldiers patrolling the border. Peace has been returned for peace.
     
  • We learned that some of those with exemplary military records are pro-peace. We met with Abu Vilan, a member of the Knesset who is convinced that an Israeli withdrawal from Palestinian territory is now the priority. Like many former officers in the Israeli Army, Mr. Vilan now has children approaching the age of army conscription, and does not want to see them placed in the danger he once faced. We heard from another former military officer that the army as a whole was thinking more before acting, and was questioning the effectiveness of past tactics -- like bull-dozing houses of suspected terrorists.
     
  • Walid SalemWe also met with Palestinian leader, Walid Salem, director of Panorama, a Palestinian organization dedicated to develop the institutions and infrastructure that will promote democracy in Palestinian society (www.panoramacenter.org). Mr. Salem was clear that the change in Palestinian leadership following the death of Yasser Arafat bode well for future negotiations. He was adamant that while the Israelis must continue to take action on settlements and land issues, they nevertheless also have every right to expect safety and security for their people, and that the Palestinian Authority has the obligation to deliver. Peace will come only when both parties take responsibility to act. Overall there was a sense that the time was as right as it will ever be, and that in peace lies the ultimate self-interest of all people.
     
  • Bethlehem
    Bethlehem

    The wall in Bethlem
    The wall in Bethlehem

    The wall in Bethlehem

  • Three of us gentiles passed through the military checkpoint into Bethlehem not just to see the Church of the Nativity, but to stand at the foot of the barrier, which at Bethlehem is indeed a wall, 25 foot high, concrete, with surveillance turrets every few hundred yards. There is no question, at the places where the barrier is a wall, the wall is reminiscent of a prison wall. There was a deep feeling of oppression as we stood at the base. At the least, even if a barrier of some kind was a necessary step toward peace (isn't there an argument in other contexts that 'good fences make good neighbors?'), it seemed to me that the building of this wall was an Israeli government public relations blunder of enormous proportions. In Bethlehem we talked to shopkeepers whose livelihood is impacted not only by the barrier but far more by the lack of tourist business due to terrorism. One of our Palestinian friends talked of travel abroad. We asked if he flew out from Tel Aviv. No, he said, we just go across to Amman in Jordan: no problem! A day later, we heard the Jewish side: our whole group, Jews and Gentiles, stood sadly on a hill in a modest Jerusalem suburb overlooking Bethlehem, with children playing -- a neighborhood which had been fired on numerous times by Palestinians before the wall was built; but not since.
     

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!