Ramallah and Hope

(this post in a bit of a work in progress)
Ramallah is, without a doubt, one of the craziest, busiest cities I have ever been to. And I’ve hung out in Times Square a bunch of times. There are people EVERYWHERE. In the streets, in the sidewalks, in the stores. At least on that Friday when we visited, that was the case. It was an hour and a half taxi ride through some VERY up and down hills from Bethlehem.

The traffic was also incredibly backed up – we noticed that more on the way out. There is a checkpoint that you have to go through to get out of Ramallah. Janelle pointed out that the 45 minutes or so we spent in traffic was indicative of the time that many residents of Ramallah have to spend on a regular basis to get in and out of their city.

Our main destination in Ramallah was Hope Lutheran Church and conversation/Bible Study with Pastor Imad. He is incredibly brilliant and his words caused lightning sparks of connection and knowledge to flash in my head, and so I will just let some of his words that I journaled speak for themselves.  Photos by UB, again.

-“We are not ‘perfect’ but we are called in, with and for society. The minute we close our doors from society is the minute you can call us dead.”
-“We choose” [to exist] “a choice out of faith.” (This made me think about the church’s narrative of decline in the US. We can choose to think abundantly instead!!!)
-It would be “more dangerous if we live the occupation in our hearts.”
-“We need the church to be with the people wherever the people is.” That’s why Hope’s community center, where we were gathered in the above picture, is open every day from 4 – 11. People can come and watch soccer there, get snacks, hang out.
-“Love is not always emotion. Love can be anger.”
-“It is a community journey to live God’s image.
-“I say hello to people with guns. They are human beings.”

Then he did this awesome thing with three bottles of juice and an empty cup which I’ll write more about later.


-“Whatever actions religious leaders take or words they say affects people in the Holy Land.”
-“There is no theology without context.”
-talking about vine and branches: “Sometimes we need to be cut so we can grow. Ministry and mission…you cut, you give power, you grow more, and you spread…If you cut a good branch, it will grow and give fruit. This is what a church is. A vine.”

Pastor Imad is also a brilliant drum player. We were blown away.
DSC00622 DSC00613

Bulletproof Glass – Hebron

Hi, Anna here from the Metro Chicago trip, back for three more posts. (Told ya I wasn’t finished!) Here’s the first.

When we went to Hebron, I was just a little nervous, as I knew it was one of the cities in the West Bank that is under lots and lots of tension. I wasn’t really nervous for our safety, though. Just more nervous about what we might see.

We parked the van and walked with our tour guide from Alternative Tour Group (ATG) down to the market street on the way to the Ibrahimi Mosque and Temple. We were going to see the tombs of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca – people who are significant for Jewish, Christian and Muslim religions.

On the way there, we heard the story about how an extremely far-right American Jewish settler had shot and killed 29 worshippers and wounded 125. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cave_of_the_Patriarchs_massacre) We went into the mosque – all of the women had to wear these grey poncho things to cover up. Photos by Ulysses Burley, who did not have to wear a grey poncho thing.


I walked over to the tomb of Abraham, and saw it, and the bulletproof glass that separates it from the temple.

Then we walked over to the temple side. Palestinians are not permitted access to this side anymore, and Israelis are not permitted access to the mosque.

DSC00463 DSC00466

I think what strikes me about the bulletproof glass is that it is such an incredibly vivid marker of separation. Like the wall, of course. The word alone makes me sad in this context. The glass is up so that nobody shoots at each other. Because people want to kill each other because of who they are.

And at Abraham’s tomb. Abraham who, the stories say, God told would be the patriarch of many great generations, a chosen people.

Your chosen people really are not so great sometimes, God. I’m praying for us. We need you.

Final Day

We made our way to the old city in Jerusalem this morning for worship at the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer. Pastor Carrie preached on the multiplication of the five loaves and two fish. Can we expect a miracle in Palestine? It seems like the only things multiplying here are settlements and checkpoints. We made our way to the Western Wall of the Jewish Temple. There are places for men and women to pray separately. (The women’s section is smaller.) Security was tight because it is a Jewish holiday mourning the loss of the first and second temples. After falafel for lunch we got in line to see the Dome of the Rock and al Aqsa mosque. It is still not clear to us what we witnessed when entering the grounds. There were lots of riot police and a group of Muslims chanting “Allahu Aqbar.” There also appeared to be Jews attempting to get onto the grounds which is usually not permitted. We were hustled past the chaotic scene to the exit. We returned to the guesthouse on the mount of olives where we have been staying to hear an Israeli widow and a Palestinian mother each describe losing a loved one in this conflict. It is easy to see an enemy as less than human. Palestinians and Jews need to realize that they are neighbors and need each other to build a secure society for Israelis and a free society for Palestinians. After a final group meal and closing reflections we are all going our separate ways. What a wonderfully complex experience our time in Israel and Palestine has been!


The Right to Live Abundantly

Today was an intense and emotional day to say the least.

We started off by going to a thoughtful service in the Redeemer Church in the Old City of Jerusalem. It was a slice of home in a foreign and complicated place. Pastor Carrie led the sermon by connecting to her wide range of audience members with questions about loving thy neighbors and what is truely important. One of our own group members, Tim, accompaned the congregation with the piano throughout the entire service. Overall, it was a beautiful morning.

After church, we walked down to the Western Wall and got to stick some of our prayers into the cracks of the rock. It was facinating to see how others pray at holy sites such as this one. The wall was much smaller than I had imagined; there was a large area for the men to pray and the women’s area was about a fouth of the size of the men’s.

After the Western Wall, we stopped at this wonderful resturant in the Old City and had some of the best falafel anyone in the group had ever tasted! All the food on this trip has been delicious, but this was by far my favorite.

This is the part where the day got really intense. After lunch we walked around the Old City and went to a rooftop to lookout over all the building, which was really lovely, but then we made our way to the Dome of the Rock. We walked through multiple security points and found ourselves waiting in line to enter into the Temple Mount. Apparently this area is only open from 1:30 until 2:30 so we were running out of time since the line was so long. We finally reach the front of the line and they tell us we have two minutes left to look around. As we entered onto the Temple Mount and turned out heads, there they were. Hundreds of Israeli soldiers armed with machine guns, masks, shields, gas masks….the list goes on. We had to walk through these soldiers and exit immediately. It was one of the most terrifying moments I have had, not even on this trip, but in life in general. I am still having a hard time processing everything and understanding exactly what happened, but it made me really sad to think that one of the most beautiful and monumental holy sites is being surrounded by violence. That thought also makes me sad because that is basically what is happening to the Israel/Palistiane area.

After the trauma at the Dome of the Rock, we had an awesome opportunity to speak with an Israeli and Palistianian woman about their experiences with the conflict. They both had experienced loss and pain, but also recognized that they were both human and that violence is never the answer.

It was a perfect way to end the trip. Lots of emotions and confusion, but that was kind of what this trip was all about- learning and recognizing that we are all human, and we all deserve the right to live abundantly.


A God of Resurrection, Healing, and Reconciliation

Relaxing day. Our plans were to tour the Augusta Victoria Hospital, the rest of the Lutheran World Federation grounds, eat lunch at the guest house and have a conversation about how to share our experience as we transition back into our “normal” lives. The late afternoon was set aside for free time and then order some pizza for dinner. This schedule, if you’ve been following along with our trip, was considerably less busy than our previous days and appeared to be less emotionally overwhelming.

It held true to these expectations, except for my time in the Garden of Gethsemane. For my free time, i joined a small group that was going to check out the holy sites just down the road at the bottom of the Mount of Olives. When we got to the garden, I was overwhelmed with the peacefulness of it. Most of the holy sites we had visited were filled with tour groups, huge chapels, and an overwhelming sense of a need to go with haste. This site was different, there was no pushing to get to the front, no loud speeches on the history and importance of the location, no entrance fee, just an atomosphere of sacredness.

This feeling continued as I made my way into the chapel, or The Basilica of Jesus’ Agony. As I entered my eyes had difficulty adjusting to the dark but then the incredible beauty hit. The floors, walls, and ceilings were done in gorgeous mosaic, the windows were each a simple yet elegant stained glass cross, and the altar space was indescribable. The point that grabbed my attention and centered my toughts was the image of Jesus clinging to a rock as He prayed in agony to God. I’m not Jesus , so i can’t explain what he experienced in that place. But I was filled with comfort and reassurance as I sat and meditated on the fact that Jesus also experienced agony. Jesus sought out a place to be in agony, to sit and process/feel the emotions that He was experiencing. This fact comforted me as I sat with my heart broken open from this experience, in sadness and maybe even agony for the people i had met, for the stories I had heard. From the Palestinians, the Israelis, the tourists, the diplomats, the Muslims, the Jews, to the Christians, all of their stories layed heavy on my heart. In that moment I felt comforted in the knowledge that God is heartbroken over this also.

I can’t recall where I heard it, but i have learned that the definition of sin is anything that breaks apart the unity of humanity. I am unable to fully grasp the brokeness in these lands, but I hold firm to the belief that it is not something that pleases God. But rather peace, community, grace, compassion, and unity are characteristics of a healthy person, a strong humanity, and a pleased God. My prayer will continue to be that these values soon replace conflict and become defining features of the Holy Land and even the Middle East. It seems utterly and almost stupidly optimistic to be hopeful. But I believe in a God of resurrection, healing, and reconciliation and I know in my heart that conflict and hate are not a part of that and must be eradicated from our lives, here and back home. As we continue to work and pray for peace, I must remind myself that dwelling in agony is a necessary part of the process, that a heart that is broken is difficult to close and become hard, and that God is good, loving, and full of grace and peace.


Yad Vashem

The museum at the Yad Vashem Holocaust memorial is a smooth concrete tunnel blasted through the the side of Mount Herzl in Jerusalem. Its profile is a triangle, a point of the Star of David sliced off and pulled into a three-dimensional prism 200 meters long. The effect inside is menacing, as 30 foot tall concrete slabs angle inward and loom over you, threatening to tip inward and crush you under unimaginable weight. There is no direct path from on end of the tunnel to the other; the prism is sliced again and again by deep channels in the floor, directing you out of the central hall into side rooms that contain the story of the Holocaust- or rather, as the museum urges you to consider, its six million stories.

There are several themes that run throughout the museum, but the power of memory, and the overwhelming need to remember these stories presents itself as soon as you enter, and encounter a channel cut in the floor, filled with books. The accompanying graphic panel tells of the rally held in the square outside the State Opera House in Berlin on May 10th, 1933, and the burning of 25,000 books by Jewish authors, and others considered “un-German.” There are few acts as symbolic as burning a book- it is not merely the destruction of a functional object, but an attack on an idea, a thought, a memory. The flaming volumes piled in the Bebelplatz represented an attempt to wipe out the collection of memories and ideas that have woven themselves together over thousands of years to form Jewish culture.

The rest of the museum tells a familiar tale that is no less horrifying in the retelling. It recounts the process of infusing the existing parochial racism that casts an oppressed minority as “problematic” with a streak of toxic nationalism, and then codifying the inevitable violence that resulted into an organized bureaucracy. It encourages us to consider how a highly educated and industrious nation can still be susceptible to the basest and cruelest of human impulses, and can use that education and industry to dehumanize, isolate, and eventually eliminate any group it deems unworthy. It also warns us of the tendency of otherwise good people and moral nations to look the other way, to close our eyes, ears, and hearts to suffering- the tendency to want to forget. Above all, that is what Yad Vashem wants us to understand- that we must remember the names of those who died, but we must also remember how it happened, so that it may never happen again.


Yad Vashem and the Dead Sea

On Friday, July 24th, we visited the Holocaust museum Yad Vashem. We took the train to the museum and got a little lost trying to find it. The shuttle to the museum took a while and by the time we were on the shuttle to the museum, it seemed pointless to wait for the shuttle and that we could have just walked. Due to our wait, we were a little late to meet our guide. Thankfully, we had to check our bags so we didn’t have to carry them around the museum. At the museum, we had headphones to listen to a microphone that our guide was speaking into. It was convenient to have the headphones so we could walk away from the guide and he didn’t have to yell.

When entering the museum, we had to cross a long, wooden path to enter. They have a continually playing video projected on the wall of positive memories of Jews living before the Holocaust to start the tour. The building itself had such clever architecture to be a metaphor of the horrible experience of the horror that Jews suffered. The exhibits were rooms on either side of a middle walk way that required you to cross back and forth from either side of the building from little rooms to a big, open middle of the building space. Each exhibit followed the linear progression of Hitler winning the election to the beginning of concentration camps to the death camps to those who helped save Jews and finally with the names and pictures of people who died.

Our guide was informative and gave him narrative of his experience as a Polish Jew. He sang a lullaby for us and began to choke up and cry when telling us stories. Throughout our trip, we’ve mostly heard the stories of Palestinians so it was a different story to hear an Israelis side. For some, it was tough to hear and see. It seemed like a bit of a rationalizing and explanation for why Israelis think invading Palestine is ok. Many of us wanted to ask our guide questions about his opinion or story, but we didn’t.

In the afternoon, we went to Jericho-the oldest city- for lunch and the Dead Sea for swimming/floating. We were warned for safety to not put our heads under the water and to keep water out of our eyes and mouth. Many people had their feet sink into the mud. It was a fun time enjoying the water and one another’s presence.

The juxtaposition of the morning and the afternoon of this day was strange. The morning was sad and a chance to hear the other side. The afternoon was joy and laughter and water.