Thursday, July 21, 2005

Final Glimpses


Dear Friends:

Life continues to amaze and confound here. Yesterday I had an extended conversation with the former moderator of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A) - Fahed Abu-Akel - who happened to come to a lecture Suzanne was giving. He was in attendance along with folks from the U.N., World Council of Churches, an Armenian priest, a Paulist priest, several Biblical scholars, a Jewish scholar, and various other entities from around Jerusalem. You know, your basic Greensboro audience.

As we are leaving for London tomorrow, let me offer just a few last glimpses of our experiences here. Last night some lingering stomach problems caused me to walk down to the pharmacy in Bethlehem next to the grocery store I've been using. Mr Awad, the grocery store proprietor, greeted me on the porch and I asked about the adjoining pharmacy, which appeared closed. He said, "Yes, it's closed. But if you are sick, I have a key." So inside he goes to get the key and within minutes we walk into the next door pharmacy which suddenly has extended hours and a very loose prescription policy. As we search around for some immodium, I can find only the "needs chilling?" liquid variety.

Mr. Awad says, "You want tablets?""

I'm just concerned about the "needs chilling part," I said, as it was about 90 degrees in the pharmacy at that point

"Tell me exactly what's wrong with you," says my grocer.

I offer the gory details and immediately he whips out his cell phone and begins a rapid-fire conversation in Arabic. Upon hanging up, he says, "He's coming. You sit here five minutes." So there I sat in the pharmacy, waiting for who knows what. About five minutes later, into the parking lot screeches a car and out pops the pharmacist. He inquires about my illness, suggests a few options, goes over the ingredients of each medication, explains it all in extreme detail, suggests various options for a wellness plan, and sells me what I need for five dollars.

I thank him profusely, compliment him on his English, and he says, "I'm not so good in English. Arabic, yes. Italian, yes. French, yes. But English, not so good."

It turns out that he was born in Bethlehem, educated in Italy, attended pharmacy school in France, and is now the proprietor of this formerly thriving store whose business is being destroyed by the wall. And still he's a man kind enough to leave his family at 8:00 p.m. in order to help some stranger who can offer nothing back but a five dollar sale.

Today brought more experiences of hospitality, though as you probably expect by now, it was accompanied by some surprises. Samer, the taxi driver who takes our children to camp each day, invited us over to his home for dinner, an amazingly gracious gesture especially considering that their third child was born just last week. All five Hendersons ambled down past the checkpoint where Samer picked us up. As we drove to his house, he said something very out of character for his cheery disposition, "It's a bad day in Bethlehem. Many arrests. Soldiers come in and take many people."

We rounded the curve to see that the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces) had closed the street and surrounded the adjacent housing complex (probably 50 homes) with soldiers at their posts and weapons drawn. Looking for a way around, we stopped briefly, only to be greeted by an extremely loud explosion from this housing complex less. When we could breathe again, Samer said, "Don't worry. That's not shooting. No worries. Just bombs."

What great comfort!

It turns out that these explosions (several more ensued) were from explosive devices designed for crowd control; they make such loud noise that people seek shelter and are thus more easily contained, monitored and searched. Samer was obviously used to it.

We found our way to Samer's house where his wife, Tagrid, had prepared a gourmet meal with the help of Samer's parents who contributed freshly baked bread, a spiced salad, and homemade yogurt to complement the large chicken, rice, potato and breaded vegetable platter before us. We feasted, laughed, and shared stories of our children. We were even able to wade into issues of the wall, Arafat, Bush, and Sharon. It was refreshing to be able to be able to discuss our differences with respect and a commitment to understanding.

The whole evening turned into a time we'll never forget. In fact, it was nearly sacramental: gathering at the table of this Muslim family from Bethlehem, talking about their situation, witnessing their deep love for their children, and listening to them speak about long lasting good relationships with their Christian neighbors. As we prepared to leave, one of the cousins who had joined us said, "We are all children of God and need to understand each other. For many years we have had good relations with our Christian neighbors. We live next to each other and work with each other every day. We are all children of God."

That's kind of a typical day for us here in Israel/Palestine: whether it is talking to the moderator of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A), the Middle East representative for the World Council of Churches (also at the lecture), an Italian educated and French trained pharmacist, our faithful grocer, or eating dinner with our Muslim taxi driver and his family, we never have any idea what will happen next, just that it will help us live with eyes wide open.

For those of you who have read these entries and commented on them, we thank you. It's been our privilege to share our thoughts and experiences. We know members of the larger Greensboro community have occasionally dropped in on this site, and we invite you to come to Westminster any time you would like. I promise you'll be warmly welcomed. I'll be sharing more of my thoughts in worship on the weekend of August 14.

We leave early tomorrow (4:00 a.m.) for a few weeks of vacation before our return to Westminster. The Lilly Endowment (who funded this endeavor) requires several weeks of reflection and rest to conclude the sabbatical, and we will gladly oblige. Please keep us in your prayers as we travel.

God's peace to you all.

Bob, Suzanne, Abbie, Will and Hannah

Monday, July 18, 2005

Living Stones


There is no shortage of stones around this sacred land. We've seen stones that were part of the rubble left by the Romans' destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE, stones that formed part of an ancient Canaanite worship site at Megiddo, a stone marking the (supposed) precise spot of Jesus' birth, and the stone out of which a garden tomb was carved.

But by far the most valuable "excavation" we've experienced during our stay at Tantur has been the chance to learn from the "living stones" of the land -- those people for whom this broken place is home, who live with its harsh and beautiful realities washing over them on a daily basis. Let me introduce you to some of those living stones.

Vivi is Tantur's House Matron, which basically means that she runs the place. It's a huge job, given the groups traipsing in and out for lodging, meals, library use, and seminars. But Vivi always has time for us, time to fill a water bottle with olive oil (the best) because she'd seen our children dipping bread in it at Sunday dinner, time to offer the kids an extra sweet, time to share a meal with us and tell us her story. And what a story it is. This lovely Danish woman first came to Jerusalem as an 18-year-old nanny on a tour of the Holy Land. She stayed because she fell in love with her tour bus driver, a Palestinian Christian who lived in East Jerusalem. (Imagine her parents' response when she initially returned to Denmark and said she wanted to scrap her nursing school plans to marry an Arab!) Together, they raised four children (all of whom live Stateside now); since his death a few years ago, Vivi seems to have adopted the guests at Tantur as her family.

Sami works the front desk, which mostly means he monitors the 20-odd security cameras (told you it was safe!) scattered around this vast hilltop property. He's called us by name since the day we arrived, he's helped us book taxis and arrange outings -- always with a gracious hospitality that makes us feel as if Tantur is spinning just for us. Sami's family is the recipient of one of the soccer balls the church sent with us; I wish you could have seen his eyes light up with gratitude as he spoke of how much his young son will enjoy playing with it.

Jeff and Maria are newlyweds -- both scholars-in-residence here working on graduate degrees from Dayton University -- who have shown special kindness to our children. Every night in the Bethlehem Room (so named for its panoramic view of the little town), where we gather for coffee after dinner, Jeff and Maria engage our kids in conversation and games. Married in the chapel at Notre Dame just a month ago, Jeff is a convert from Judaism to Catholicism (by way of Campus Crusade), while Maria comes from a Catholic family in the heartlands of Iowa. It's been a joy to share this time with them.

Samer is the taxi driver inside the Bethlehem wall who takes the kids to and from camp each day. It's a choice "contract" for him, since tourism and commerce are so depressed in his town, and it's been a choice "contact" for Bob (who escorts the children while I work). Samer has patiently answered Bob's jillion questions about the siege of Bethlehem, the life afterwards, the contours of the terrorist groups we ignorantly lump together (Islamic Jihad and Hamas couldn't be more different to Samer). He has three children, including a one-week-old, and looks forward to a quiver full of five to eight kids. (As a sidenote, Elias Chacour pointed out that, with the Muslim birthrates hovering between five and six children per family, there's no getting rid of the Palestinians!)

Imad was our bus driver on the Galilee portion of our tour. He was born in the Old City but now lives with his family on the Mount of Olives. Imad's highly educated; he's fluent in English and Hebrew as well as Arabic, and he's trained in Interior Design. While he'd love to start his own design business, to do so here would require his service in the Israeli military -- an unthinkable option for this Arab Israeli. So he's driving tour busses, saving his money, and planning to move his family to Amman, Jordan to set up shop. We all fell in love with his 3-year-old son Wa'ad, who joined us for our day trip to Hebron.

Caitlin is another American here with us at Tantur. She's working on a history Ph.D. from Emory on the topic of Jewish-Christian relations in the 20th century, with a special interest in the Holocaust and its impact on those relations. She's a good Presbyterian who describes her bias as ardently supportive of Israel's statehood and who's done some fascinating research in the Zionist archives and the Library of Congress. Yet she too has been somewhat blown away by the Wall and its impact ("I thought it was like a backyard fence!") -- especially the long-term negative impact she feels it will bring for Israel, due to festering unrest and economic despair.

Hopefully, you're catching a glimpse of the richness of our visit and the relationships forged here.

With deep thanks for your partnership in this journey,

Suzanne

Sunday, July 17, 2005

Vulnerability


On Wednesday, Israel experienced the second suicide bombing within its borders this year. An 18-year-old young man associated with Islamic Jihad left his small village of Tulkarem and exploded himself in a shopping mall in Netanya, killing three women and injuring many children. It was a senseless act of violence perpetrated on innocent victims. Fortunately for us, it occurred over 100 miles away.

I learned of this by walking into Bethlehem (going our traditional back way that is quicker and avoids the checkpoint) Thursday morning to take our kids to camp. Instead of the typical array of taxis, souvenir hawkers, and traffic, we were greeted only by a line of Palestinians sitting on a sidewalk waiting to be able to get to their jobs, families, and other activities. Israel had closed the West Bank. Military guards stood well past the traditional checkpoints and into Bethlehem armed and ready to enforce the closure. There was no leaving. Immediately I found myself wishing someone had told me this BEFORE I entered the West Bank, and I began to silently pray for a way out. Acting calmly, I escorted the kids to camp (after all, where else could we go!) and fortunately was able to use my American Passport as viable exit currency when I returned.

Later Thursday morning, the Israeli military understandably struck back in more active form. It began with a sweep of Tulkarem, the arrest of several citizens, and numerous Palestinian police. Friday saw more action: air strikes into Gaza and near Tulkarem which killed at least four more Palestinians, all of whom the Israelis identified as suspected collaborators with Hamas (which claims no involvement in the suicide bombing) and Islamic Jihad. Friday brought more military sweeps, this time in Bethlehem, Ramallah, Gaza and various northern towns resulting in the arrest over 30 additional suspected collaborators. Times are tense in this land. Friday also happened to be the day we decided to take a day trip to En Gedi, the Biblical home ground of Saul (Israel's first king), Jonathan, and David (Israel's greatest military leader). You can read about their exploits in I Samuel.

To give our kids a sense of the land we were visiting and its relationship to the biblical story, we spent our time in the car recalling stories we knew from First Samuel. Obviously one of our favorites is Abigail and her powers of persuasion over David. Another personal favorite is the rather long account of the deep friendship between David and Jonathan. Other episodes in the narrative are equally good, and it was fun to recall the events of this particular region.

One final story struck us at such a deep level we could only be quiet and ponder. It comes from I Samuel 24. Saul was King of Israel, but David's success in battle was raising his reputation such that Saul felt threatened. Saul confronted David, an argument developed, and Saul nearly speared David right at the dining room table. David fled for his life and Saul gathered three companies of his best soldiers to chase David through the rock strewn and cavernous hills of En Gedi.

David and his few men were hiding from Saul in a cave when the Bible tells us (in embarrassing detail) that Saul excused himself from his troops to "relieve himself" (yes, the Bible says that) and just happened to enter the same cave in which David and his men were hiding. David's men say to him, "What luck! God has delivered Saul into your hands. Take him while he is vulnerable."

David considers his good fortune and extraordinary strategic advantage, but instead of killing Saul, he quietly cuts off a piece of Saul's robe and hides silently in the cave until Saul is finished his business. Once Saul leaves and heads slightly down the mountain, David goes to the mouth of the cave, calls to Saul and his troops, holds up the piece of Saul's robe, and says, "Saul, King of Israel. I could have killed you. God delivered you into my hand, and here is the evidence! But I spared your life because you are precious to God and to me. We are not enemies. Let us be at peace with one another.

It's a remarkable story of savvy leadership from one of Israel's greatest generals. David found a creative third way to end the cycle of enmity and violence. He saw past the immediate threat, recognized the innate value of his foe, and took the first risky step toward resolving conflict through creative leadership and personal patience.

Quite often the Christian faith has looked to the Old Testament as a faith basis for war and violence, and it is easily found. Yet David - our faith's greatest military leader - expressed a preference not for personal vengeance but for peace. For all of the Hendersons, it was poignant to recall this story in the place it occurred under circumstances that could desperately use such leadership.

Thank you for the opportunity to have this story to come alive in a way we'll always remember and for the chance to share it with you.

We continue to pray for you every day.

Warmly,

Bob

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Good News from Haiti


Good news from Haiti. Hurricane Dennis did little damage to Haiti Fund Inc's Comprehensive Development Project (CODEP).

Rodney Babe, the Presbyterian missionary who manages the project with his wife, Sharyn, said he had received an update on conditions from someone living in the mountains. The Babes were among five of us with the project evacuated from Haiti in mid-June because of increasing violence there.

Rodney said he had learned that no one in the CODEP area was hurt by the torrents of rain from Hurricane Dennis. He said he also learned that the waterside compound that serves as headquarters for the project came through in fine shape. The compound is the Babes home. The only damage, Rodney said, was some flooded gardens and broken trees. These days we're watching as Tropical Storm Emily churns westward on a course that could also affect Haiti.

Our Nightly Conversations


Dear Friends:

Our life in Israel/Palestine continues to thrive, and the rhythm of our days has turned a bit more traditional. As mentioned earlier, our children are attending a camp in the mornings run by Christmas Lutheran Church. The camp is designed to serve Palestinian youth in Bethlehem and has been a great experience for all three of our children. For instance, today Abbie was befriended by a girl named Amy, a 17-year-old Bethlehemite, who recently returned from living in Honduras where her father works at the Japanese consulate. These are rich experiences for all of us, and we remain deeply grateful for the ministry of Christmas Lutheran Church.

Our specific geographic location has given us tremendous exposure to the circumstances in the West Bank and the challenges facing the Palestinian people. Just yesterday, the lead story in the Jerusalem Post reported that 55,000 additional Arabs now living in Jerusalem will be separated from the city by September when the wall is to be completed. This morning I heard CNN report that further building in the West Bank has been halted by the Israeli government; however, if I lift my eyes from the computer screen for a moment I can literally see new construction going up on confiscated land across from Tantur. It's a complicated situation, full of half-truths and interpretation.

However, the richness of Tantur is its ecumenical focus. People presently studying here hail from the Philippines, Ukraine, Australia, Spain, England, Scotland, Belarus, and New Zealand. As you might expect, each person brings a unique faith perspective to the pressing matters of our world and this land. Therefore, I'm particularly pleased that the next two weeks at Tantur will feature lectures, readings, and field visits regarding the persecuted history of the Jewish people. Though I've studied the Holocaust thoroughly, familiarity with the long history of Jewish persecution is essential to understanding the Jewish mindset, their understanding of the land, and Israel's posture to the world. In particular, I am looking forward to next Tuesday morning which I'll spend with a visiting scholar in Jewish history who has published widely regarding how persecution has shaped the mindset of Israeli Jews today. These lectures will be accompanied by a visit to Yad Vashem, Israel's Holocaust museum, as well as other activities. Perhaps the greatest learning, however, occurs at night when we all gather on a terrace for coffee, wine, hot chocolate (the kids!), and conversation. As you might imagine, the nuance and sophistication of the conversation is very stimulating.

I'll try not to sermonize on the blog, but one recurring theme Suzanne and I find when faced with the issues of this land (and the world) is the relevance of Jesus' teaching. Peace will not happen in Israel and Palestine (or the world) without forgiving enemies. Taking the form of a servant toward one's neighbor is clearly the path to life. Praying for those who persecute you brings with it irresistible moral force. Believing that "in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female, slave nor free," would provide a clean slate from which to move toward long lasting solutions. Imitating the one who laid down his life so that others might live is this land's greatest hope. So, simply on a personal level, both Suzanne and I find it profoundly meaningful to see the relevance of Jesus' teaching in a land that seems irretrievably divided and broken.

Speaking of Suzanne, she is spending her mornings putting the final touches on her book (right now focusing on the scintillating work of indexing scriptural references and authors) to be published in January and will be glad to turn in her final draft before we leave Israel. The title "Christology and Discipleship in the Gospel of Mark," gives us hope it will be a runaway best seller! We'll tithe to the church all proceeds from the movie rights.

We miss you and pray for you every day. We continue to request your prayers for our health and safety as we'll be traveling again soon. In about a week, we will fly to London, basically to visit and do some tourist activities. After that, it's to Utah, where I'll remember how to exercise and then to Georgia for a vacation with extended family.

Peace to you all.

Bob

We're Fine


Just in case you've heard of the Netanya bombing yesterday (that's north of Tel Aviv), we wanted to let you know that we're fine and far from the scene. We're mostly unaffected, except for the increased security and closing of the West Bank. Thanks for your continued prayers.

Suzanne

Sunday, July 10, 2005

At Home in Jerusalem


After last week's immersion in Palestinian life outside Jerusalem, we've returned to 'home base' here at Tantur, located on the outskirts of Jerusalem with a panoramic view of Bethlehem. Today, I have no earth-shattering observations to record, just a brief glimpse of the rhythm of our life here.

Friday was the first day in months, maybe years, when I took about two hours simply to sit and relax. As a family, we visited a nearby kibbutz with a lovely pool and grounds. While the younger kids splashed and Bob and Abbie worked out, I sat. What a gift.

Yesterday we walked the Palm Sunday road down the Mount of Olives and through the Garden of Gethsemane. It's moving beyond words to imagine Jesus making this trek, especially in light of all it meant for him and ultimately for us. The kids were just happy that, for once, we didn't make them walk UP the rather steep incline; we actually splurged for a ride on a local bus. From the Garden, we made our way through St. Stephen's Gate into the Old City and down part of the Via Dolorosa, Jesus' purported path from Pilate to the cross. Along the way, we had a truly religious experience as we enjoyed the best pizza of the whole trip and made friends with one more exceedingly friendly Palestinian shopowner (who's also training as a psychiatrist: "we need them, you know"). We ended our touring with a visit to the Garden Tomb, a site excavated in the 19th century that helps one envision the kind of tomb to which Jesus' body paid a brief visit.

Today, we enjoyed worshiping at the Church of Scotland and then meeting both its pastor and another American pastor on sabbatical (albeit without his family; we're so grateful to be here together!). We rode along as the pastor drove a church member named Mary home to the other side of town; it takes at least an hour and a half, with three bus rides and a checkpoint, for her to make it to church, so he sees it as the least he can do to drive her the 15-minute car ride (available to those with Israeli license plates). After lunch in a delightful Israeli sandwich shop, we discovered a couple of wonderful locally owned bookstores on Jaffa Street. The kids have exhausted the 50ish books they had brought along, and we were thrilled to find a used bookstore to feed their reading passion.

One of the enjoyable twists for us has been depending on public transportation to get around Jerusalem. We board a small 20-passenger Arab bus just outside Tantur's gates and get dropped off just outside the Old City. From there, we're learning our way around the labyrinth that makes up the Christian, Armenian, Jewish and Muslim quarters.

Tomorrow the kids start camp in Bethlehem. Please pray for that experience to be a rich one for them. They're excited about the activities and seem genuinely eager to bear the light of Christ to their co-campers, through interaction if not through spoken language (Abbie's group should be more fluent in English; Will and Hannah have promised to teach us the Arabic they learn). I also begin my work in earnest, compiling the index of my book to be published by Cambridge early next year. Prayers for my productivity would be greatly appreciated as well!

We continue to give thanks for you and brag about you everywhere we go. As I write, you're gearing up for Sunday morning worship with our dear friend Walter Jones. We're thrilled for him to know you -- and vice versa.

Grace and peace,

Suzanne

Friday, July 8, 2005

My Reading List, Plus Inspiring Stories


In addition to our mission endeavors, conversations, and visits, I have been able to sneak in a little reading this summer and thought I'd commend to you a few books. First, I've enjoyed Thomas Friedman's The World is Flat: A Brief History of the 21st Century. Friedman is a great thinker and an unparalleled writer. His perspective on the world's changing economy and political realities are worth our attention.

Secondly, I've read From This Holy Mountain by William Dalrymple. This is a most unusual travel memoir that traces the history of Christianity, people groups, and the rise of Islam through eastern Turkey, Syria, Lebanon, Israel/Palestine, and Egypt. It's a long, slow read, but uniquely informative and oftentimes entertaining.

Two final recommendations would be G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy and a current novel, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, by Mark Haddon. Both are worth your time and attention.

Now, back to the matters at hand. Each day we wonder how our experience could become any richer, and each day we encounter some person or gain some perspective that leaves us deeply moved. Occasionally these experiences break our hearts, as at daybreak last Monday when we witnessed an elderly Palestinian woman from Bethlehem as she got caught by Israeli soldiers trying to use the Tantur property to sneak into Israel with basket of vegetables to sell at market. She pleaded, argued, and was eventually turned back and denied entry. She was just trying to make a living; the young soldiers were just doing their job to maintain the security of their homeland. It's a heart-breaking circumstance, one which happens hundreds of times a day. Yesterday, however, was also filled with portraits of extraordinary commitment and real hope. I will share with you just two.

The first person is Nuha Khoury, deputy director of the school at the International Bethlehem Center (IBC), a bright light of Christian expression located just a few hundred yards from the spot of Jesus' birth and associated with Christmas Lutheran Church. Articulate, attractive, and talented, this young woman is dedicating her life to the children of Bethlehem, using every ounce of her considerable ability to advocate for their future. In addition to leading a K-12 school for the children of Bethlehem (the majority of whom are Muslim), she leads summer camps, a wellness center, art camps, music camps, and peace camps. These are first-rate programs serving children acquainted mostly with war, military occupation, and poverty.

I was inspired by her the results of her work, by the big vision she has for the future of this ministry, and by God's hand obviously at work. But even more, I was inspired by Nuha's personal commitment and zeal. She has a Ph.D. in history from the University of Michigan and could teach most anywhere in the world. Before the invasion of Bethlehem, her family was one of considerable means. She has many options. And every day she wakes up to the stark realities of Bethlehem, asks God to bless her work, and gets to the business of ushering in the kingdom. I hope we can cross paths with her in the future.

As an interesting sidenote and glimpse into the life of Bethlehem residents, while Nuha was talking to a group of us (about fifteen) gathered around a table on a lovely terrace at IBC, another employee interrupted us with a look of great consternation and a rapid-fire Arabic language conversation ensued which left Nuha with tears in her eyes. The other employee left, and when Nuha could not gather herself immediately she said,"I might as well share this with you."

"For years my father has owned a hotel right here in Bethlehem and has done well with the tourist trade. But now the separation wall has been built right on our property sealing off one side of the hotel such that guests from the west no longer want to come. The Israeli government claimed the hotel was on their land and so we went to court to fight for our hotel. Yesterday we received word that we won our case and can keep the hotel, but just now I am being told that soldiers are breaking down the front doors and invading it. We will try to resist them, but there's not much we can do."

As I said, each day includes some event leaves us deeply moved.

We left Bethlehem to head approximately thirty miles south to the ancient city of Hebron. Over the last 15 years Hebron has been in the news regularly as clashes between residents and settlers occur frequently. Specifically, we went to an ancient village outside Hebron called At-tuwani where Palestinian peasants have been living for 1500 years. Even today, most of them live in ancient stone structures built into the hill such that their homes are half cave and half house.

All religions and nations have extremist adherents, and some of the most extreme Zionists have settled in the wooded hills above At-tuwani. Interestingly, most of them aren't even from Israel but are Zionists primarily from the United States and other parts of the world who have settled in the high ground surrounding Hebron. From there, they arrange periodic attacks on the people of At-tuwani in order to drive them from the land. The most recently attacks have included poisoning their wells, the fields where their goats graze, and attacking children from surrounding villages on their way to school in At-tuwani.

You might ask, "What's inspiring about this?"

At least two things. First, the people of At-tuwani don't attack back. They have decided to be peaceful in their response. One man, whose 72 year old mother had been beaten, said, "We are simple people who have lived here for 1,500 years. We want a simple life. We are shepherds. We will not attack."

Secondly -- and perhaps most inspiring -- were two people (Christina, a young woman from Italy, and Mary Yoder, a nurse from Ohio) who work on what is called "Christian Peacemaking Teams" (CPTs). Mostly CPTs are there to document facts, videotape events, and give even-handed reports to police, the U.N., and other government officials. These CPTs, however, are also escorting the children from surrounding villages safely to school. So each day, they walk the extremely remote and hot hills of Hebron for two and a half hours in the morning and again in the afternoon so that the children of the region can attend school in relative safety. The CPTs have also been attacked -- some severely beaten and injured -- and yet they remain boldly serving the needs of the world's children in vulnerable circumstances.

As a brief glimpse into life in Hebron (as offered before about Bethlehem), while we were there the CPTs were called to document an event happening out in the fields near At-tuwani. Apparently, some settlers had obtained a combine and were harvesting wheat fields not their own. As is so often the case, the police were called but arrived an hour late, after the harvest had been stolen and the combine taken away to the settlement. It was a sad glimpse into the life of people in Hebron.

I'm grateful for the extraordinary commitment displayed by these servants and am inspired to consider what sacrifices I make for my convictions. The Christian life here is lived under tough circumstances, and it requires innovative, brave, and deep faith that perseveres regardless of external circumstance.

Thank you for the opportunity to learn from these people. The whole Henderson family is growing in ways beyond our imagining.

Peace,

Bob

Wednesday, July 6, 2005

Our Time in the Galilee


We've just returned from a three-day jaunt to the Galilee, the area north of Jerusalem where Jesus conducted most of his earthly mission, and we're once again overwhelmed with gratitude for God's ever-apparent grace to us. We're also trying to sift through the experience, as it left us a bit overwhelmed with the desperate situation of this land.

Monday morning, we left Tantur bright and early (5:55 a.m., to be precise) to meet a tour bus in Jerusalem that would travel to Ramallah, just a few miles to the north, where we'd rendezvous with a group from Guilford College doing mission work at the Friends School there. (Deep thanks to Max and Jane Carter and their students for welcoming us for this excursion!) Since we didn't have exact directions to the travel agency's parking lot, we wandered a bit aimlessly for over an hour until (this is the grace of God part) we spotted the welcome sign of "Sindbad Travel" on a shimmering white bus. We quickly gathered our almost-dashed hopes and climbed aboard for the brief but circuitous trip to the West Bank town. As we'd already seen with Bethlehem, gaining access between Israel and the occupied territories is neither easy nor pleasant, even for a group of American tourists. Strange as it may sound, unsolicited tears fill my eyes whenever we reach the "border."

We spent much of the day doing some of the "Run Where Jesus Walked" tour: Caesarea (where Paul was imprisoned before heading to Rome), Tabgha (site of loaves and fishes), Capernaum (Jesus, home base), and the Mount of the Beatitudes (particularly lovely spot). Though Bob and I had visited these sites on prior trips, it was a delight to share them with the kids, to read together the passages related to these places, and to watch their eyes light up at the connection between story and setting. We ended the day with a dip in the Sea of Galilee, followed by a feast of St. Peter's fish (also known as Tilapia). Yes, its eyes were staring up at me; no, I found no coins in its mouth.

Monday evening, we arrived at our home for two nights, the Galilean town of Ibillin, where the priest Elias Chacour has been doing world-changing ministry now for several decades (read his stirring accounts in We Belong to the Land and/or Blood Brothers). Ibillin is an Arab Israeli town, which means it's mostly made up of Palestinians (both Muslim and Christian), but it's outside the West Bank (or Occupied Territories) and so considered part of Israel proper.

Our purpose in Ibillin was two-fold: we were there to help in some small way, which for us meant painting, landscaping, and general cleanup; and we were there to hear from Abuna (or "Father") Chacour, to learn more about his work and his story. As we closed our day yesterday, our kids all cited the hour spent with Father Chacour as the highlight of the day -- indeed, an emerging highlight of the whole trip. Though words again seem so inadequate to the task, I'll try to capture some of our dynamic sense of the Spirit that radiates from this gifted leader and servant of our God.

First of all, Father Chacour conveyed deep welcome. After over an hour of "grownup talk," he turned to Hannah and Will and said, "Now I want to hear from our younger guests. And I want you to know one thing: I love you." This was no drivel; the tears welling up in the room confirmed the Source of his love.

Father Chacour's gift of visionary leadership had been evident from the moment we arrived on the hillside campus of his Mar Elias Educational Institute. A new sanctuary for his Orthodox church had just been dedicated, but even more spectacular was the array of buildings that together house grades K through college. Some 4,500 students attend Mar Elias, a school built on the solid Christian principle that love is stronger than hate, and that standing together -- even reaching out to traditional "enemies" -- is the way forward to the peace and life that seem so elusive in this beleaguered land.

Skeptics may call Father Chacour's approach soft-hearted, pie-in-the-sky idealism, but it's hard to argue with his results: a school with a 57% Muslim majority, plus minorities of Christians and Jews (all three represented on faculty as well as in the student body), where mutual love and respect are the order of the day. His school struck us as a microcosm of the kind of kingdom of God Jesus heralded, a kingdom in which the oppressed are set free, and the lion and lamb lie down together.

But perhaps most wrenching were the stories Father Chacour shared with us, stories of Palestinian plight not often included in the mosaic of violence reported through the media. Father Chacour takes a strong stand against violence as he catalogues its counter-productivity for both sides in this struggle. But what he brings to light is that the violence we normally associate with this place (mainly, horrendous acts of suicide bombers) is only part of the story. Here are some excerpts from "the rest of the story":

The story behind the violence: we're often schooled in the notion that suicide bombers "don't value human life," and perhaps that's true for some, but Father Chacour shared the real-life story of two who gave their lives in such a tragic and destructive way. One, the first suicide bomber I think, had been traveling the short distance from Bethlehem to Jerusalem with his father, who rode on a donkey with the son leading the way. When they arrived at a checkpoint, the Israeli soldiers there -- apparently bored at their post -- ordered the elderly man off the donkey and then beat him until he kissed the animal's backside. That wasn't all. Once he complied, they teased him mercilessly, all under the watchful eye of the son, who remained silent, infuriated but powerless. A week later, he went to Tel Aviv donning an explosive vest.

Then there was one of few female bombers, an attorney with a thriving practice who apparently cracked. The source of her stress? Three converging factors: a father she watched die from a heart attack after three hours of pleading with a Haifa hospital that refused treatment because he was Palestinian; a brother hunted down and killed by an Apache helicopter; and a fiancé buried alive as his home was bulldozed by Israeli soldiers. For Father Chacour, and for us, these stories in no way sanction the destruction that followed; they do, however, round out our understanding of just what it is that motivates such desperate acts.

There's another side of the coin from which we remain pretty comfortably insulated, and that is the violence perpetrated by the other side of this struggle -- not to mention the economic and social structures that look to Father Chacour more and more like apartheid. Among the acts he mentioned are the seizure of land and property that's been in Palestinian families for generations (the settlements continue to expand with vigor, despite widespread disapproval on the part of the Israeli public), the denial of access to jobs and income (one man we met in Bethlehem has had his shop isolated by the Wall from virtually all his former customers, so that his revenue is down by 80%), and the sheer dehumanization that one encounters at checkpoints and elsewhere (I did see an Israeli soldier smile today for the first time, and those who know our Will will not be surprised to learn it was in response to his winsome grin). The sense of normal, law-abiding, peace-loving Palestinians' disgust is palpable whenever they speak of the Wall encroaching onto their land, or the fence that "cages us in like animals," or the military might wielded so freely against them.

One more observation. Part of what motivates Father Chacour and other Christian leaders is a desire to shore up the Christian community in the Holy Land, a community that's dwindling fast. Christians tend to be better educated and more affluent than their Muslim brothers and sisters, so they send their children abroad, away from the violence and toward economic opportunity. Father Chacour echoed the plea that we encountered in Bethlehem: "Please tell our Christian friends in your country that we need your support in our struggle for economic justice and freedom. The Palestinian Christian community will wither without it."

So this is Father Chacour's story, and yet his most powerful testimony is his response. Though he is not hopeful for the future -- he sees things getting worse, not better -- he refuses to be caught in the spiral of hatred. He has a faith in Christ that is truly life-changing, and it is the reconciling love of Christ that invigorates his work, his smile, his warm-hearted laugh, his gentle but firm resolve.

"Please tell your people we love them. Tell them our story. The world needs to know our story. God bless you, my friends. You are always most welcome here."

Saturday, July 2, 2005

Another Word from Bob


As the weekend arrives, we are thinking of you and the rich worship life you  will enjoy. This weekend you will be fortunate enough to here from the various  mission teams and the work Westminster is doing around the world.

I wish could be there to experience the joy and hear the stories. Our sabbatical journey has convinced me more than ever of the value of reaching out beyond our own circles and serving God's wide world.

Next weekend we'll also have the opportunity to host a dear friend of mine, Walter Jones, who will preach in the Sanctuary services at the Friendly Ave. campus. Walter was the senior minister of Eastminster Presbyterian in Stone Mountain, Ga., where I served before Westminster. He is a dear friend, an excellent preacher, and taught me the few good things I know. I've told him many great things about Westminster over the last 12 years, and I trust you will make me a truthful man when he comes!

I've kept the Mexico Mission Teams in my prayers of the last few weeks and hope and pray everything has gone as smoothly as it normally does. My gratitude to all who contributed, worked, went, and prayed for each mission endeavor to be celebrated and shared this weekend.

We miss you.

Bob

PS. We'll be helping to build a school for Palestinian and Jewish kids in Ibillin for the next few days and won't have email access. We love hearing your responses and look forward to them upon our return but will be unable to correspond again until late next week!

Bob's Take on Our Day


Tantur Ecumenical Institute, which will be our home for the next three weeks, is an extraordinary place. Constituted by the Catholic Church, Tantur is first a study center with a substantial library where scholars from around the world (that would be Suzanne!) come to further their research.

Secondly, Tantur is a meeting ground for Christians, Jews, Muslims, Israelis and Arabs with the hope of gaining mutual understanding and bridging the gap between religions and peoples. There are seminars, field trips, daily worship services, and common meals. It's a rich and welcoming environment.

Our apartment is simple yet comfortable, and I can already tell that the majority of our apartment time will be spent enjoying the luxurious cool breezes of Jerusalem (it even gets a bit chilly at night) and gazing out over the hill tops, as I am doing now. It's very pleasant and reminds me of how much I enjoy mountainous landscapes and cool summer nights. We all find ourselves glad to be here.

Our porch looks out over Bethlehem, a Palestinian Territory, which is less than ½ mile from Tantur. We can easily see the 30-foot tall separation barrier Israel is building in Bethlehem (yes, the wall is several hundred yards into Bethlehem on one side and protrudes in on another side in order to keep Rachel's tomb under Israeli control) as well as all the requisite checkpoints needed to enter. Our hosts at Tantur assured us it was safe and our family ventured out on a foot tour of Bethlehem to see the Church of the Nativity (where Jesus was born), Lutheran Christmas Church and its International Bethlehem Center (I would highly recommend reading about this powerful ministry in Bethlehem Besieged by Mitri Raheb), and if we had time -- Bethlehem Bible College.

Those of you who have been to Bethlehem may remember a bustling ancient city filled tour buses, souvenir merchants, and thousands of Christian pilgrims enjoying falafel and shawarma at sidewalk cafés. Today it is very different. We were quickly waved through the military checkpoint by soldiers too young to bear such responsibility and another hundred or so yards got us to the wall with its spray painted slogans there to greet us: "AMERICAN MONEY: ISRAELI APARTHEID. OCCUPATION BRINGS DESPERATION: OPPORTUNITY BRINGS HOPE." This was going to be an interesting day!

Once past this ugliness we strolled the thin lanes of ancient Bethlehem only to find ourselves nearly alone except for the rhythmic approach of taxi drivers practically begging us for a fare. Bethlehem has beautiful old homes, churches of carefully sculpted rock, a growing Muslim population, and an annihilated economy. Each street showed hundreds of closed up shops. Every restaurant had many open tables. Tourist parking decks were empty. The one souvenir shop we visited (more on this later) had only the Henderson family as customers for the whole hour we were there. They were so delighted to have us that they went out and bought us all Cokes!

Even with the wall, the checkpoints, and the constant threat of occupation, the whole Bethlehem area -- and particularly the Church of the Nativity -- has a mystical holiness to it. When I looked out at the sky at night and considered the angels' announcement of our Lord's birth, it was easy to imagine the shepherds running with haste over the hills to Bethlehem. To stand on the ground where our Lord first took human form brought a sense of awe at the miracle of it all. It felt like hallowed ground and I was grateful for the opportunity to be here once again.

After the Church of the Nativity we traipsed uphill about 200 yards to the Lutheran Christmas Church whose Pastor, Mitri Raheb, has done an extraordinary job mobilizing his own congregation as well as denominations -- even governments -- across the world to serve the growing needs of the Palestinian population. Through its International Bethlehem Center this church offers peace camps, computer training, soccer, basketball, table tennis, chess, beading, swimming, and art classes -- mosaic, ceramic and graphic. It is quite inspiring to see the Christian faith combat the forces of violence and desperation with hope, education, recreation, and a demonstrated commitment to equip young people with viable skills for their future. Once again, I was impressed by the strength of the Christian faith and the expansiveness of its call. Be it east Greensboro, the Mukuru slums of Nairobi, or oppressed streets of Bethlehem, there is through faith the call to love and the impulse to serve. Indeed, one of the great joys of this time is to see the myriad -- seemingly infinite variety -- of ways the Christian faith embodies to meet human need.

We had time to drop in unannounced at Bethlehem Bible College and (through the power of your prayers for us) ran into the dean of students, Alexander Awad. Dr. Awad is a Palestinian from Bethlehem whose family has mostly emigrated to the United States. In fact, he travels under a U.S passport and is a paid missionary back to Bethlehem by the United Methodist Church of the United States. This gentle man took our whole family on an hour and half tour of this small Bible college and shared some of their work in the community. I would love to share with you much of what he said, but for purposes of time will organize my thoughts around two ideas that emerged as our whole family sat in the president's office and shared refreshments

First, Bethlehem Bible College has been traditionally supported by the more evangelical churches of the America. This was evident from plaques around the seminary recognizing their contributions. However, he said, "In the past five years the evangelical churches have begun to identify so closely with the Zionist movement in America that support for work with Palestinians has been drastically reduced. This religious/political shift has hurt the work of our Bible College badly." He cited a recent visit to North Carolina to lecture at Duke Divinity School. While in Durham, he spoke at numerous area churches about the challenges facing the Palestinian Christians. After one of his talks at a Presbyterian church, the host minister took him to lunch and challenged some of his assertions. Dr. Awad invited this minister to come to the Holy Lands and see for himself. The minister replied, "If I visit Israel, it will be with a rabbi." You could see the confusion in the eyes if this dignified man: Christian and Palestinian, missionary with the Methodist church, yet no longer a worthy cause for many previously supportive Christian congregations. It was a paradox I had not previously considered.

Finally, I asked him what a Presbyterian congregation in the United States might do to help the work of his college. I couldn't have been more surprised by his answer. He brightened, sat up straight, and said, "I speak as a Palestinian who desires peace. You should be tremendously proud of your denomination's stance on divestment from companies that profit from construction of the wall. It is the greatest thing you could do and took great moral courage. We thank you."

"Why," I asked. "Why is that the greatest thing we could do?"

"Because in making a decision that courageous, people will ask you why. They will want to know. And when they discover the facts, they will be confronted with the truth of our situation."

We thanked him profusely for his time, assured him of our prayers, and left far richer for the experience.

I'm aware that there are many perspectives on the divestment decision and some quite strongly held. Yet, as a leading church in our denomination, it is worth listening to some honest sharing from voices that are least easily heard and give them the opportunity to shape our opinions.

Five minutes more down the road on foot and five more taxi entreaties we found the gift shop we had to ourselves (mentioned in yesterday's blog entry) and dropped in. It turns out it was the same gift shop the Westminster Trip visited 5 years ago. The proprietor treated Suzanne and me like we were his own children and our own children like they were his grandchildren. After refreshments, giving us several gifts of merchandise, showing us a picture of his own children, he offered us a ride to the border. We declined and chose to continue our walking tour. That's when the fun started.

Walking down Caritas ("Grace" in Greek) Street, a substantial way into Palestinian territory -- Will and Abbie admiring their new key chains given them, Hannah the necklace given her -- I looked up to see and flank of Israeli soldiers 25 yards in front of us making an incursion into Bethlehem. Rifles ready, helmets low over their eyes, they surrounded the next intersection. Suddenly they crouched behind their respective walls, peering carefully around the corners, listening to their radios. Off they went, quietly, quickly, clearly in pursuit of someone.

Stunned, we froze where we were for just a moment, and then they came back. Again, the soldiers were scanning the buildings above, protecting themselves behind walls, crouching low, ready for action.

We unfroze quickly this time, gathered our children, and without drawing any attention to ourselves, scurried back to the store proprietor who had shown us such generosity, asking him of this was normal. "No," he said, "but not unusual. I will take you to the border." So this Palestinian shop proprietor loaded us in his car, drove right by the IDF forces still making their incursion, dropped us off at the wall, and wished us God's blessing. It was a mere taste of what has happened in that community for the last four years. A taste I don't need to try again.

So that was our day. If you're still with this rather lengthy epistle, keep us in your prayers as we wonder what might happen tomorrow.

Peace,

Bob

Friday, July 1, 2005

Across the Wall and Back


"So, Abbie, what's your response to today's experience?" "Mom, you and Dad are crazy!"

Not long before we left, Bob preached a (great, in my biased opinion) sermon about Jesus' encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well. To make the point more vivid about Jesus' reconciling mission, he included a slide of the 'security wall' being built between Israel and the Palestinian territories and suggested that if Jesus were walking the earth today, he'd likely be making his way back and forth to those on both sides of the Wall, sharing with them the astounding love of God.

Well, imagine my surprise when I opened our apartment terrace door, as we arrived at Tantur yesterday, to see on the distant hill the (West Bank) town of Bethlehem, with the Wall in the foreground. Could it be that God has placed us here to do some small part in that vitally important work of Jesus?

So this morning, we put on our walking shoes and crossed into Palestinian territory, and what a day of grace -- seasoned with both sadness and fear -- it has been.

The grace: We arrived at Christmas Lutheran Church's peace center to inquire about summer camps for our kids, and the director could not have been more welcoming. Imagine our kids' faces when these options for activities were listed: swimming, beadmaking, soccer (both Abbie and Hannah opted for this one, though they were warned the classes had only boys in them), ceramics, chess, graphic design, video editing, and more!

More grace: We happened upon Bethlehem Bible College and its dean, who gave us a personal tour of the facilities. In addition to theological education, the school also opens its library (and internet access) to the public, offers key job-training classes (for all, regardless of religion), and runs a social welfare agency. Bob will probably write more about this, but the dean was a fascinating man with moving stories to tell. His family has suffered greatly under the occupation; he has a brother who was exiled by Israel for starting a non-violent resistance group. And he was visibly heartened and effusively grateful for the Presbyterian Church's leadership in recognizing the injustices associated with the Wall.

The sadness hit me on a surprisingly deep level. Bob and I visited Bethlehem six years ago on an interfaith tour, and the city then was a bustling center of economic activity. Not so today. Many of those with resources have left the city. As one shopkeeper put it, "My grandchildren were scared of all the fighting, so I sent them away."

On that note, we were making our way on foot back to the checkpoint when we saw a half dozen Israeli soldiers dart furtively across the street, guns drawn. We hightailed it back to the store where we'd just done our part to boost the lagging economy and took the shopkeeper up on his offer to drive us to the border. Of course, he has white license plates, so he couldn't cross it. ...

Let's just say God's expanding our comfort zones exponentially. Thanks for continuing in your faithful prayers. This really is the trip of a lifetime.