Marlin & Sally in Jerusalem

A Pocket Full

(The photo was taken in January, as you can see by the heavy coats.  This is not the soldier in today's story.)

In age-old military fashion, he raises his arm to stop our car.  It’s nothing personal.  He’s just doing his job.  He looks to be around 19 or so, very handsome young man.  He bends to look in our vehicle: “Passport.  Passport.  Passport.”  He says this three times as there are three of us in the car.  I think it is just his way of breaking up the day, changing the way he asks for passport or permit.  I remind myself that he is somebody’s son, grandson, boyfriend, and of course, he is somebody’s tormentor as well.  Not mine though.  I’m an American and I get a free pass through almost any checkpoint.

He sees our United States passports and begins to wave us through.  I say, “You’d better be good to us today.  We’re Americans, you know.”

He knows.

“I like Americans,” he says with a smile.  With his right hand he pats the front pocket of his army greens, and says, “I’ve got Bush right here in my pocket.” 

I expect this is a joke that goes up and down the ranks.  I doubt that this young man thought it up all by himself.

A month or so back, an Israeli peace activist told me:  “You Americans are being taken for a ride, and you don’t even know it.”  She just shook her head.

Riding through a Jewish neighborhood one night, an Israeli taxi driver, wearing a kippa, turned to me and asked:  “You like these homes?”

“Yes,” I said.  “Very nice.”

He laughed.  “You bought ‘em.”

Please be aware, that here in Israel, among many Israelis, America is seen as naïve and gullible.  We have little or no credibility with them, which is ironic I think, given the fact that we have no credibility among Palestinians either, and for the very same reason.  Palestinians think that Israel leads us around by the nose, “a big dog on Israel’s leash,” is the way a neighbor put it to me.  Of course, many in Israel see it the other way around.  An article written by a retired Israel commander declared Israel to be the big dog with America holding the short leash.  (By the way, “dog” is about as bad a name as you can be called in the Middle East.)

My point in all of this is to simply let you know that the perception we have of being loved and respected by Israel is a warped perspective.  We are not.  At least that is my experience living here.  I don’t think we should be terribly surprised by this.  We know in our own lives that the people we respect most are those who have minds of their own.  They think for themselves.  They do not have blinders on when it comes to looking out over the landscape of daily life.  They see for themselves what is so and what is not.

I wonder if President Bush has ever been in the West Bank or Gaza.  I know he flew over in a helicopter with Prime Minister Sharon at his elbow whispering in his ear.  I doubt that he’s ever been here himself.  I doubt that ½ dozen members of Congress have ever been here either.  Senator Clinton came to visit early this year.  She didn’t meet with a single Palestinian.  In my opinion, that is irresponsible and foolish.  It’s like an arbitrator in a relational dispute that listens to only one side.

When Secretary of State Rice visited Ramallah during the most recent Lebanon war, she was transported there in a large, black suburban.  As she rode along the Israeli controlled roads to meet with Palestinian leaders in the West Bank -- I'm grateful to her for that, by the way -- she didn't see a single Israeli soldier.  They were all hidden from sight.  As soon as her caravan passed by they reappeared, hundreds of them.  When she came back, they were gone again.  That's the game.

Tour groups come to Israel to visit the sites, and miss the sights right before their eyes.  They look, but they don’t see.  They don’t see the truth, and mostly that is because they don’t want to see the truth.  The truth we are being told is easier for us to live with than the truth that is being hidden from our eyes.

The two soldiers thought their mocking comment was funny, a good joke on a nice, friendly American ally.

Me, I hate being mocked, even when I deserve it.

Home-Wreckers

It’s midnight, dark outside, quiet, a pleasant breeze blowing in the open window by your bed.  You are just in that stage of sleep where pleasing unconsciousness has settled in, no dreams to interrupt your rest – no nightmares either.  Your husband is lying next to you, his arm around your waist, holding you tightly.  The children have been in bed for hours.  You looked in on them just before crawling into bed, and they were sleeping peacefully.  The little one twitches now and then, and you worry about him.  “Is he okay?  What must be going through his little head?”  The older children can at least talk to you about how they feel, what they fear.  But you worry about the baby.

A loud noise.  An alarm maybe.  A siren.  You startle awake.  What?  Where?  Air raid?  Who?  Instinctively you reach to shut off the alarm.  It’s not the alarm clock.  Something else.  What?  Where?  Stop!  Stop!  Your heart is racing.  You can’t get your breath.  What?  Who?  You are awake now.  It’s the telephone.  Then you remember where you are, and who you are, and suddenly you know that the telephone ringing at this time of night is not good news.  Not good news.  Not good news.  No.  No.  Not us.  Please.  Not us.

“You have fifteen minutes to get out of your home, then we blow it up.”  Dead calm voice.  No emotion in it.  “Just doing my job” kind of voice.  Line is dead now.  Dead.  Death. 

Fifteen minutes?  Fifteen minutes? 

“My God,” you say to your husband who is sitting up and staring at you.  “They’re coming for us this time.  For us!  Why?  What?  This can’t be.  This can’t be.”

He takes your shoulders in his hands and says:  “How long did they give us?”  A gentle shake -- “How long?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes?  FIFTEEN MINUTES?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“My God, hurry, hurry.  Grab the baby.  Wake the children.  I’ll tell the others.  Get out of the house now.  I’ll get mom and dad.  Get out with the children.  Get out.  Get out, now!”

You are frantic.  No time to think.  No time to grab anything.  Just the baby.  The baby.  And the children.  The children.  No time to explain.  “Hurry.  Hurry.  Hurry.”  No time to cry.  Later.  Not now.  No time.

When you get outside you hear the shouts of the others.  All the family is outside.  Your mother-in-law is in her favorite old maroon robe.  She is weeping; her whole body is shaking.  Your father-in-law is pale and quiet, maybe in shock.  The rest of the family, the other five brothers and their wives and children are moving quickly away from the family dwelling, a large apartment building that is home to six families, as well as your husband’s aging parents.

True to the man’s pledge, exactly fifteen minutes later, two missiles slam into your home.  The impact sends tremors through the ground and into the neighborhood.  Soon the street is filled with anxious people.  The fire trucks arrive, and weary men pile out and begin to put out the fire.

But who will put out the flames further fueled on this dark August night in Northern Gaza?  Who will put out the flames?

This is no fiction, but fact – a true story.  This family is well known by those who work in Gaza.  One of the brothers – there are six in all – is a member of the Fatah party.  Not Hamas.  Not Islamic Jihad.  Not any of the groups on any government list of terror organizations.  This is Fatah.  Abu Mazen’s party.  Fatah.  But no matter.  The IDF (Israeli Defense Force) selected this building for an object lesson.  No inquiry.  No trial.  No precious Rule of Law.  Fifteen minutes warning.  “At least we warn them,” Israel declares. Targeted assassinations.  Targeted home demolitions.  State terrorism is what it is and it is anything but plain and simple.  It’s wrong!  It is immoral!  We need to say it because Israel needs to hear it.  We need to hear it.  It is not anti-Israel.  It is not anti-Semitism.  It is anti-criminal behavior no matter who the criminal is.

And the baby?  The baby slept through it all. But one day the baby will wake up and grow up, and then what?

The International community is asleep as well.  Or maybe we’re just tired.  “Even young men do grow weary.”

And God? 

“Rouse yourself! Why do you sleep, O Lord?
Awake, do not cast us off forever!      
The stouthearted were stripped of their spoil;
    they sank into sleep;
    none of the troops
    was able to lift a hand” (Psa. 76:4-5).

A winged creature stands beside the throne –- waiting.  A hand reaches out and gives this fiercely gentle messenger a word.  The angel makes his way down Jacob’s ladder with this word in this mouth, on his tongue.  He speaks this word into the world and the word moves among us like wind, steady and sure – no ending.

Can you hear it?  This word of hope -- water for the thirsty, food for the hungry, justice for those suffering injustice, can you hear it?  The word is a name.  The word is a life lived, a death died, a grave emptied, a promise made, a summons issued, and a body ignited with fire and wind.

The messenger returns to his place beside the throne.

"Did you deliver the word?"

"I did, my Lord."

"Good."

"They are asleep, my Lord."

"Not all, not all.  They're listening.  They'll speak.  And I will be heard!  I WILL BE HEARD!"

The Lame and the Blind

“David was thirty years old when he became king, and he reigned for forty years.  In Hebron he reigned over Judah seven years and six months, and in Jerusalem he reigned over all Israel and Judah thirty-three years” (2 Sam. 5:4-5).

Hebron is located south and a little west of Jerusalem.  Hebron is an ancient city, the place where Abraham purchased the field near Mamre, which included the cave of Machpelah (Gen. 23:1-20).  Sarah, Abraham, Isaac, Rebekah, Jacob and Leah, Jacob’s first wife, are all buried there.  Rachel, Jacob’s second wife, is buried in Bethlehem.  Hebron is a holy site for both Muslims and Jews, and today is home to both a mosque and a synagogue.  I’ve been in Hebron.  I’ve stood at the ancient city gate where the real estate deal between Abraham and the elders of the city was done.   I’ve been in the mosque there, Abraham’s Mosque, and I’ve seen the burial site of the patriarchs and matriarchs of both religions.  I’ve also been at the place of Rachel’s burial in Bethlehem, now completely surrounded by the hideous separation barrier.  There is a yeshiva there now – a seminary for orthodox Jewish men – and while Christians are allowed to visit, (Christians other than Palestinian Christians that is), we are clearly not welcome. Sad to say, both these holy places are sadder to see than anything else.  Both are places around which conflict rages, places that could unite the faiths, but further divide them instead.

David – young, but battle experienced and God anointed -- leads his charges to capture Jerusalem, which was then inhabited by the Jebusites.  (Yes, there were people here before the Jews, and lest we forget, the ancestors of these people are still here.  This has never been a land without a people!) The cocky Jebusites boast that no one can capture Jerusalem. “Even the blind and the lame will turn you back!” (v 6).  Sometime later, the Jews believe and boast the same, only to experience the same outcome as the Jebusites experience with David’s army. To make a long story short, David and his troops do capture Jerusalem, and after they do, they reach out and touch, or they reach out and kill – the Hebrew phrase is unclear –all the lame and the blind in the city.  Because of this, the lame and the blind were not allowed to enter the House (Temple) of God, later constructed by Solomon, David’s son, in the City of David, Jerusalem.

Jerusalem is the perfect capital for Israel as Jerusalem is located in the center of the country, then between Judah and Israel, and because it was a neutral site, meaning that at the time anyway, Jerusalem belonged neither to Israel or Judah (Israel was divided then and then again right after Solomon – united under David for 33 years and under Solomon for 40 years, a total of about 77 years).  David named Jerusalem after himself, an interesting choice on his part I think – the City of David.  King Hiram of Tyre, in modern Lebanon, sent envoys to David with cedar logs, carpenters, and stonemasons; and they built a palace for David. An interesting first building for David to have built.

Jerusalem remains in the center of this land, geographically, politically, and most importantly, spiritually as well.  No matter what you hear in the media, Jerusalem does not belong to the State of Israel.  The State of Israel controls Jerusalem, to be sure, but the State of Israel does not own Jerusalem.  No one owns Jerusalem.  The intent is for Jerusalem to be a city for both the Palestinians and the Israelis, and more than that, a city for all three of the monotheistic faith traditions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam.  The regional conflicts are about the fate of Jerusalem as much as they are about anything else.  Jerusalem is a sacred place for Jews, Christians and Muslims.  The great fear in the Islamic world is that they will lose access to Jerusalem.

Palestinian Christians already have, or at least for the most part.  Yes, they have churches there, but the occupation by Israel is such that many Palestinian Christians cannot get to their own churches to worship.  The same is true for Muslims.  On most Fridays, the Muslim day of prayer, Jerusalem is shut down by the Israeli military preventing men between the ages of 15 and 45 from entering the Al-Aqsa Mosque located on the ancient Temple Mount.  Part of the blame for this must lay at the feet of the Muslim Imams, prayer leaders and holy men, who use Friday prayers as a time to fire up the young men of Jerusalem, as if they need firing up.  Many would argue they have good reason to be fired up, and I wouldn’t argue against that, but only add that figuring out ways to put the fire out would be more appropriate for religious leaders on all sides than fanning the flames.  But then that’s just me.  What do I know?  Not much!

I do know that the matter of Jerusalem must be addressed if there is to be peace in this land.  Jerusalem matters to all the folks here and I can tell you that none of them will give up Jerusalem without a fight.

But how should we Christians fight this fight?  Enter Jesus, stage right!  Jesus also reached out and touched the lame and the blind. He healed a blind man, who then entered the Temple and with wit and wisdom kicked the butts of the religious authorities (John 9).  Jesus told a man to pick up his cot and walk, which the lame man did, and then walked into the Temple to dance for joy.  And Jesus preached.  Oh wow, did Jesus preach!  Jesus preached non-violence.  Jesus preached tolerance.  Jesus preached justice.  This is what Palestinian Christians do.  They work to heal the sick.  Palestinian Christians work in hospitals and clinics all over the West Bank and Gaza.  They build school classrooms and teach in them.  They work to provide water for the thirsty, food for the hungry.  They carry out these saving acts as they model the saving acts of Jesus.

And it must be duly noted that the Palestinian Christian community also preaches boldly the gospel of Jesus.  They preach non-violence.  They preach tolerance to all faith traditions.  But mostly, they preach justice, just as Jesus preached justice for the poor and the needy.  "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!  For you tithe mint, dill, and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice, mercy and faith" (Matthew 23:23).

One more thing that Jesus did that the Palestinian Christian community does as well: Jesus suffered.  David was a great military leader, and an astute political.  Jesus was neither, but of course Jesus was this: Jesus was the Messiah.   The Palestinian Christian Community believes this to be true, and therefore, these good folks daily pick up the cross and follow the One who hung here, in Jerusalem, for the sake of the world.

We’ll see where that leads them!

Off the Couch

II Samuel 4

All things considered, Ishbosheth, son of Saul, would rather be fishing or shepherding or farming or anything other than ruling a fledgling nation, but ruling a fledgling nation is what he is doing, like it or not.  For Ishbosheth is the lone surviving son of a king, a dead king, and that means the mantle of leadership is his whether he is up to wearing the mantle or not.  And obviously, Ishbosheth is not up to the task.  One wonders why Ishbosheth didn’t die on the battlefield with the rest of his brothers, Jonathan, Abinadab, and Malchishua.  More to the point, where was this 40-year-old man while his father and brothers were fighting the Philistines on Mount Gilboa?  On one hand, what does it matter?  On the other, what matters more?  His family was fighting for their lives, and for the life of the nation, and Ishbosheth was AWOL.

Ishbosheth is a poor choice to lead and nobody knows this better than he.  Being the son of a king, especially a flawed king like Saul, does not give one the credentials to be king.

Abner, the man who would be the power behind the throne, is dead, killed by Joab, captain of David’s army.  In the end, Abner’s death kills Ishbosheth as well, first in spirit, as 2 Samuel 4:1 comments, and then in every other way as well.  A pair of brothers, Baanah and Rechab, company commanders in Abner’s army, takes it upon themselves to assassinate Ishbosheth in his sleep.  One wonders why Ishbosheth has no guard by the door of his bedchamber.  Is he so unaware as to not even be aware of the obvious danger?  A violent man, Abner, had set up his kingship.  Joab, an equally violent man, murdered Abner.  Violence is the order of his day for settling disputes.  Didn’t Ishbosheth know this?  Don’t we know this?  What was Ishbosheth thinking before he loses his head?

The two brothers, Baanah and Rechab, bring the severed head of Ishbosheth to David, thinking David would be proud of them for their heads up decision.  David is not.  He orders the “young men” -- it is always the "young men" who do the dirty work -- to kill the two bothers and cut off their hands and feet to be hung by the pool in Hebron.  One wonders whether this is done to dissuade others who might think about beheading a king, or to make certain that everyone knows that David didn’t order the assassination of Ishbosheth, just as he didn’t order Joab to murder Abner.  David is a man after God’s own heart, and a pretty savvy politician as well.

All the tribes come together at Hebron, at that time the primary city of Judah, and David is anointed king.  It is a historic moment that is tainted by the deaths of Abner and Ishbosheth.  And neither had to die to get David the kingship.  It could have come about through other means, and in fact, it would have, for God had ordained it.  It was lack of discipline and lack of imagination that killed Abner and Ishbosheth.  It is still lack of discipline and lack of imagination that kills and maims and leads to more of the same.

There are people in this holy land who are committed to violence as the only way to settle the issues that lay before the two peoples here.  I'm coming to believe that it is an addiction to violence. The State of Israel was established through violence, is maintained through violence, and daily extends her territory through violence.  Many of the groups who would carve out a nation for Palestinians are committed to violence as the only way to accomplish that end.  The outside powers that come alongside each of these groups seem to be committed to violence as well.  These meddlers arm the various camps and cheerlead as they slug it out in places like Gaza and Lebanon.  And maybe violence will prove to work.  We might get to where we want to be through violence and bloodshed.  But who will we be when we get there, if we get there at all?  That is the question, I think.

Let me give you one more thing to think about as we think about Ishbosheth.  There are battles raging in our world and most of the more important battles are not with flesh and blood.  I think especially about the battle for the good name of Jesus.  Anybody who is using Jesus’ name to promote violence as the primary way to settle disputes is the enemy, no matter whose side he/she is on.  Those in the church, for example, who are lobbying Congress and the President to give unconditional support to the State of Israel no matter what the State of Israel does, are as dangerous to world peace as the one who straps on a bomb belt to kill and maim innocent men and women, or those who plot the felling of airplanes. And of course I feel the same about those in Judaism and Islam who are pushing the same agenda but from other directions.  But I’m a follower of Jesus, and I’m an American, so the troops I wish to rally are my own sisters and brothers.

I don’t know where Ishbosheth was as his father and brothers were on the battlefield, but wherever it was, it was the wrong place for him to be.  Maybe you are in the frontlines of this war on peace; maybe you’re not.  If not, then where are you?  Please get in the fight.  The God who so loves the world that he sent his only son into battle to save it, needs his son’s brothers and sisters to get off the couch and into the fray.

Back Monday

Sally and I  have been out of town in meetings with our supervisor.  We did not have access to internet so I was unable to post any blogs.  But we are back in Jerusalem for a good long run, and glad to be.  God willing we'll begin posting again on Monday.  You might start reading I and II Samuel and I and II Kings as I'm doing some writing around these texts.  I find them compelling as context for the situation here.

Marlin

Targeted Assassination

2 Samuel 2-4 record the events that finalize the making of David as king over Israel. It is compelling reading for any time in history, and that certainly is true of today.

The drama is dominated by three men of war: Abner, Joab and David. Abner is the captain of the army of Ishbosheth, the lone surviving son of Saul. Joab, the victor over Abner in the last skirmish, is the captain of David’s army. Reluctantly, Abner killed Joab’s brother Asahel in that firefight, an important detail that Joab has not forgiven. The third warrior is David, the slayer of “ten thousands.”

At the time of the writing of 2 Samuel 3, the war between the House of Saul and the House of David was long-drawn-out, but the handwriting is on the wall – David is going to win. Abner proves himself to be as good a politician as he is a general and manufactures an excuse to move closer to David. He has sex with one of Saul’s concubines, a woman named Rizpah. Ishbosheth strenuously objects to this breach of royal etiquette. No mention is made of how Rizpah feels about the encounter; because Rizpal is merely a pawn is this power game. Her feelings don’t matter. The same is true of the feelings of Michal, daughter of Saul and first wife of David. When Abner comes to call on David, he drags Michal along, her new husband kicking and screaming for most of the way.

David and Abner make nice and things are moving along nicely for an alliance that will unite the tribes and give David the throne for which Samuel anointed him. Joab is on a raid while this political maneuvering is taking place and when he gets back in town he is not happy with his soon to be crowned king. He scolds his boss for negotiating a ceasefire with Abner and takes matters into his own hands. Hard to imagine the military having that much power, isn’t it? Joab lures Abner into a trap and then murders him in cold blood. He plunges a knife in the Abner’s belly to avenge the spear that Abner jammed through the body of Asahel –- tit for tat, and that’s that.

Here’s where I think the story begins to get interesting. Upon hearing of the murder, David curses Joab and orders Joab and his men to mourn the death of Abner. I guess David was not content to allow Joab the luxury of merely regretting the loss of innocent life, not that Joab saw anything innocent in Abner. However, technically speaking, Abner is innocent as he killed Asahel in a fair fight and during war. Abner is assassinated during a ceasefire. Abner’s is a targeted assassination, meaning that Joab targeted Abner because Abner was a threat to Joab and to avenge the death of his brother.

David writes a dirge for Abner, and according to the text, David intones the song over Abner’s funeral bier. David also fasts for the day. David ends the entire affair with these words: “May the LORD requite the wicked for their wickedness!” (2 Samuel 3:39b).

Lacking the power or the will to punish Joab himself at this time, David seems to leave the matter in God’s hands. Later, on his deathbed, David takes the matter back into his own bloody hands and orders Joab’s death for having assassinated Abner during a time of peace. It seems David has a long memory, and a sense of justice after all.

What has this to do with us?

I don’t know if this biblical narrative has anything to do with us. Many of the details of today’s conflict are starkly different from the struggle for power and land recorded in 2 Samuel and 1 Kings. That was a civil war, while this is not, unless of course you want to acknowledge the relationship between the warring parties, something they themselves do not seem willing to do. Today is not peacetime, but rather the time of war, a war with no end time in sight. Status quo is the order of the day here. No one has the imagination or courage to try something new – it’s just tit for tat, and that’s that.

Perhaps like David, the only choice most of us have is to put this all in the hands of God and let him sort out the wicked and the innocent, let him punish those who are responsible for shedding innocent blood. God knows that only God knows who is guilty and who is innocent.

I do take comfort in knowing that, like David, God has a long memory, and a sense of justice. As I think more about it, perhaps I shouldn’t take comfort in that bit of fact. And neither should you.

Bitter Endings

Two generals march their armies out for war.  The adversaries meet around a pool cut in the rock at Gibeon located 6 miles northwest of Jerusalem.  Today, el-Jib, an Arab village is ancient Gibeon.  It was the people of Gibeon who tricked Joshua into a covenant with them during the first conquest of Canaan.  Great story found in Joshua 9:3-27.

Two generals, Abner and Joab, meet at the pool of Gibeon.  There is a king to be crowned and these two military men are just the ones to determine who it will be – David or Ish-bosheth, son of Saul.  It will be David, of course, but how will the king making be made?  Ah, that is the question.

Two generals meet at the pool of Gibeon.  First there is the combat between the best of the best.  Each general selects twelve young men to compete to the death in hand-to-hand combat.  Ah, the art of war, such noble pursuits.  Let the games begin.  The twelve kill each other.  Twenty-four are now no more, but such is the cost of king making, and after all, who is keeping score anyway?

Now the armies are engaged.  Joab, David’s man, soundly defeats Abner, the champion for Ish-bosheth.  On the run, Abner kills Asahel, Joab’s younger brother, a runner it would seem who could run like the wind, but who didn’t look where he was going.  Asahel runs into the back of Abner’s spear and is impelled – a bloody business this!

Finally, the Benjaminites, great warriors these, rally behind Abner on the top of a hill.  Joab and brother Ahishai gather their troops below and now the matter will be settled in the manner of men.  But Abner calls out to Joab and what he says rings still in the Judean Hills: “Must the sword devour forever?  You know how bitterly it’s going to end!” (2 Samuel 2:12-32)

The story ends with Joab walking away from the battle.  Abner gives him a face-saving out, and he takes it.  Enough blood for today.  Until we meet again, Abner, until we meet again.  And, of course, they do meet again, and that meeting is the bitter end for Abner.  But that’s another story.

This story ends with the scorecard recorded, 360 dead on Abner’s side, and 19 dead of Joab’s team.  Who won?  Easy call, huh?  Except one of the dead is Joab’s little brother, and as is always the case, the victory party is spoiled by the funeral wake.

At least 845 Lebanese were killed in the 34-day war: 743 civilians, 34 soldiers and 68 Hezbollah. Israel says it killed about 530 guerrillas. On the Israeli side, 157 were killed — 118 soldiers and 39 civilians, many from the 3,970 Hezbollah rocket strikes. The Associated Press compiled the figures, mostly from government officials on both sides.

So who won?  Depends on whom you ask.  You ask me, and I’ll say, “I don’t know,” because I don’t – big picture and all of that.  “The people who make the decisions know more than you and me.”  You know the drill.  You ask anyone who lost a loved one lost in the numbers and they’ll say something quite different I imagine.

“Must the sword devour forever?  You know how bitterly it’s going to end!”

The Cause is Right

(We're back in Jerusalem.  I spoke Sunday at the Crystal Cathedral in Southern California.  It was not a taping service for those who are wondering if it will be on the Hour of Power television show -- it will not.  What a wonderful staff at the Cathedral.  We were treated well and had a good experience.  If you want to read the message then click here -- Download Mark_7:24-30 Blind Spots.)

Somewhere over Texas, I leaned over and gave Sally a gentle head butt.  She turned her head toward me and gave me that “What was that for?” look.  You know that look, right?  Head turned and tilted slightly to the left, chin down, eyes looking up at you, questioningly – “What was that for?”  From the window seat of the airplane, I leaned my head and shoulders toward her and she met me half way.  Heads together now, a well-traveled pair, I say: “Are we nuts?”

She purses her lips slightly, applies a small amount of pressure, but says nothing.

I say, “I was hoping you’d say, ‘No we’re not nuts.’”

She says, “Well, the problem is, I think maybe we might be.”

We both chuckle, and then fall silent.  For the next two hours I stare out the window and watch as America floats by underneath my gaze.  Such a huge country.  So many people.  So busy living their lives.  So many messengers coming at them with so many messages.  And we with our puny little words to speak as well.  “Are we nuts?”  Every now and then Sally reaches out to touch my arm.  We do not speak.

We arrive in Atlanta just an hour and a half before our flight to Tel Aviv.  We walk quietly and with purpose to our gate.  There is a long line waiting for security check.  We walk directly from security into the gate and onto the plane.

Bags stowed, we sit and watch as the plane fills up.  Our conversation is only of necessity.  We are both thinking about what lies ahead and what is left behind.  It’s a comfortable quiet, a quiet shared and respected.

Finally the plane is full and we taxi out to the runway.  “Cabin crew prepare for take off.”  The engines rev up and we are on our way.  As the plane lifts from the ground, I begin to cry softly, tears filling and then spilling over – like a cup under a slowly running faucet.  It is weeks of tension and stress finally leaking out – the fighting, the anger and sadness on the streets of Jerusalem, the unexpected call to come to the States, and the pressure of speaking at the Crystal Cathedral – the staff there was wonderful to us, by the way, a great experience.  The tears also reflect the burden I feel sometimes to speak against the grain, the risk involved in questioning authority, and the fear of being wrong, or misguided, or misinformed.

Sally pulls at my arm until I turn to look at her.  Then she says, “The cause is right, Marlin.  The cause is right.”

“I know,” I whisper.  “I know.”

The cause is Christ, of course, and of course, that means the cause is right.  It is the integrity of Christ that we struggle to protect and serve.  That is the cause to which we are called, you and me, and all of us together.  It is the message of the cross, the empty tomb and the ascending Lord that we proclaim, and against all odds, I think.  Let the nations conspire.  Our call is to inspire – inspire hope and love and kindness toward all, even our enemies, whomever they may be.  And inspire humility too, I think -- the kind of humility that leads to listening.  It would be good if we all listened more, I think.

My tears reflect a counting of the cost too – the cost in picking up the cross and following the One who carried his cross all the way to the right hand of the Father.  He sits there now, this Jesus, and counsels the Father, or perhaps he comforts the Father as the Father sends out messengers with words meant to counter those of hate and prejudice and pride.

“The cause is right.”  That’s what she said.

The cause is Christ.  That’s what I say.

“Are we nuts?”

Probably.

9-11

The day before we left for the States I went around to all our neighbors, and to the shopkeepers along the street where we live.  I wanted them to know that we would be gone for a couple of weeks and that we would be back.  I also wanted them to know why we were going back to the States.  I told them that we were not leaving because of the “situation.”  One of them said, “That’s good because the ‘situation’ is always with us.”

One shopkeeper asked me to stop by his shop before we left.  “I want to talk with you before you leave,” he said.

So I did.

“Sit down,” he invited.

So I did.

“Just listen, okay?”

So I did.

“You remember 9-11, right?”  Seeing my immediate response, he quickly went on, “Of course you do, of course you do, you are an American.”  He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts; to remember again what is was he wanted to say to me before I left to come here.  “On that day, people danced on the street in front of my shop.”  He lifted his hands above his head and showed me what he meant.  He clapped his hands together in the rhythm of Middle Eastern dance, celebratory dance.  “They were angry with me because I would not leave my shop.  I stayed in my shop the whole day.  Most of my friends, the other shopkeepers on the street, stayed in their shops too.  We didn’t leave our shops.  Most Palestinians didn’t dance on the streets.  We stayed home and mourned because we understand about suffering.  And because we knew that we would pay a heavy price for this terrible thing.”

Then, tears brimming over onto his beard, he said, “Tell people this.”

I nodded.

Then he shook his head and said, “You know, those people that were dancing on the street, most of them couldn’t put two sentences together to make any sense.”

Maybe that’s true, maybe not, but what is true is that most of us can put two sentences together to make sense.  Because we know Jesus, we know the truth. The truth is that the violent course we are now on is madness and will only lead us to destruction.  War will not bring a sustainable peace, not here in this 'holy' land, or anywhere else for that matter.  It is true that sometimes killing saves lives, but not this time, not in this case.  This time killing will only lead, as it has in the past, to more killing.

It is possible to be a good American, to honor Paul’s exhortation toward loyalty to country, and still be alert for America’s blind spots.  The church’s role is to be in the world, and yet to stand apart from the world as well. The prophets were alert to the blind spots of their own nation, but also to the blind spots of the nations around them, both friend and enemy.  The prophets served as bridges between the world and the world’s God, but also as bridges of reconciliation in the world.  They found out, as we will as well, that being a bridge means being walked on by both sides, but that only a bridge can bring warring sides together to talk, to repent and to reconcile.