ISRAEL
At the invitation of an Israeli religious studies
professor and his wife I spent two days in western
Israel. Their hospitality was a real gift and a reminder
of the good people who live throughout Israel and
Palestine who really hope for peace.
While in Israel I went to see Haifa by night. The lights
of the city were beautiful. Then an Israeli and I went to
a small place to eat pasta. As we ate, I began to
understand a little of the fear that many Israelis
experience. This young liberal Israeli avoids eating in
large restaurants for fear of suicide-bombers. He feels
that they won’t waste their lives on a small place.
The concern for security is a real concern of Israelis
that any solution must address.
I spoke to two classes on Catholicism at Tel Aviv
University. The professor asked me to explain what I do
and how Catholic students live their faith in Ames. The
students in both classes at the university were very
interested and asked a good number of very perceptive
questions.
The professor, a secular Israeli who was born and raised
an Orthodox Jew in Israel, considers it very important to
help his fellow Israelis learn about Christianity, He is
writing a short introduction to Catholicism in Hebrew. He
remarked that many Israelis know little about
Christianity.
This seemed strange but I remembered that the Saturday
before in Tiberias Omar and I were questioned by two
adolescent boys about our beliefs. When we said we
believed in God, they asked if we were Jewish. They
seemed a little dumbfounded when we said we were
Christians. Finally, one of them seemed to recall
something about a Joshua, Hebrew for Jesus.
If there is such lack of understanding, is it any wonder
that there is so much suspicion and ill will? This might
also be said of us in the US who know so little of
Judaism and Islam.
However, from my very limited experience of Israel, I
also got a sense that there are many Israeli Jews who do
not support many aspects of their country's policies in
relation to Palestine, especially the settlements in the
West Bank and Gaza. They also hope for a negotiated
settlement.
THE MUSEUM
Between
the classes my professor friend and I visited the Museum
of the Jewish Diaspora on campus. He had offered other
possibilities but I felt a need to take time to reflect
on the experiences of the Jewish community throughout
history. I wouild have liked some time later to see
theHolocaust Museum, Yad Veshem, but didn;t have time.
The museum on the Tel Avivi Unviersity campus provides a
history of Judaism from its origins to present-day
Israel. There were marvelous small models of European
synagogues, many of them destroyed during the Holocaust.
But what stuck me were two quotations from a rabbi from
the early nineteenth century, Rabbi Israel Saltander.
The first quote revealed the deep sense of hospitality
that people in this region hold dear, among both
Palestinians and Israelis:
“To welcome a guest is better than to welcome the
Divine Presence.”
The second quotation struck home when my friend
translated it for me. His translation revealed the
radical challenge of Rabbi Santander’s sense of the
role of the rabbi:
“The rabbi in whose community there are none who
disagree with him is not really a rabbi, and a rabbi who
fears them is not really a human.”
Like so many others I don’t like to say anything
that might arouse too much dissent. But I know that there
are times when I should speak more forcefully, no matter
what the reaction. Oh that I might be so free from what
others say and think and learn to listen only to God!
Ceasarea
- the ruins of Herod's palace
THE CROWDED
BUS
My
friend and his wife showed me a number of sites by the
Mediterranean Sea. Friday morning we went to Caesarea,
where the apostle Paul was held by the Romans and where
Origen and Eusebius, early church fathers, lived and
wrote. We spent the morning at these impressive ruins on
the coast of the Mediterranean. As we left we saw a sign
that had been defaced. The symbols of Christianity and
Islam had been scratched out. My friend commented on how
sad it was that there is such religious intolerance.
About one o’clock, my Israeli friends dropped me at
a nearby train station which took me to Tel Aviv. From
there I took a bus to Jerusalem. The bus was quite
comfortable and spacious. Since it was not very crowded,
I had two seats to myself. But I looked around a saw a
fair number of young people, including a woman in
civilian clothes, carrying guns. I was not comfortable.
The bus left us off in West Jerusalem. I decided to walk
to the Old City. It was about three o’clock Friday
afternoon and the streets of west Jerusalem were deserted
as people prepared for the Sabbath.
After about 40 minutes I arrived at the Damascus Gate,
where I looked for transportation back to the checkpoint
into Bethlehem.
There was only this large old bus. After I was sure that
it was going to Bethlehem, I boarded it. The bus was
crowded, with people standing in the aisle. I found a
seat in the next to the last row. It appeared that this
seat had been added since there was less than a foot
between my seat and the seat in front. A Palestinian man
sat beside me and we spoke briefly in English.
I was the only non-Palestinian in the bus. The seat was
uncomfortable and cramped. But for some strange reason I
felt at home - not because I was among Palestinians but
because I was among the poor. I recalled the many crowded
busses I have ridden in El Salvador. I was again among
the poor, among the ones God loves ina special way. I
felt a deep peace. I did not feel threatened. I was, in
some way, at home – for God was there, among the
poor.
Damascus Gate
to the Old City of Jerusalem