Crossing Over

Over the past week, our delegation has had the privilege of hearing from many, many courageous Palestinian and Israeli people who are resisting the occupation in a variety of forms, through rebuilding demolished homes, documenting human rights abuses, speaking about the abuses they committed serving in the Israeli military, supporting refugees, holding public vigils, and many, many other ways. I have been in awe of the work that they have done and the trials in which they had suffered. However, while I have felt a lot of pain and lamentation for those who are oppressed, I have often felt that I'm still not able to fully absorb and wrap my head around the discrimination and suffering that people have experienced.

However, while in Bethlehem, we did have the opportunity to share in an ordinary, everyday, ludicrous effect of the occupation. The main checkpoint in Bethlehem crosses just from one part of the city unto the other, still in the Occupied Palestinian Territories (because the separation wall cuts through West Bank territory, rather than on the legally recognized Green Line).

The lines to cross through the main checkpoint in Bethlehem are so long it often takes hours in the mornings when many people come through to go to work, so people must arrive at 5am in order to get to work by 9am.

There are three turnstile areas that people must cross through which reminded me of what the cattle walk through on my dad's farm. The whole experience felt dehumanizing, as I felt I was being treated as a criminal just for wanting to cross to the other side of town.

We had to go through metal detectors and show our passports, which upon viewing, the Israeli soldiers said "God Bless America" over the PA system for everyone in line to hear (much to my embarrassment). There was a question about the visas that the Australians in our group had been issued, but when the soldiers saw they were friends of The Americans, they let them go through without question. Tears welled up in my eyes at this ridiculous privilege that we carry with our passports, and the tears began to flow when the Palestinian man behind us was detained for not having the right paper with him, when he was taken aggressively away and slurs shouted at him.

What a travesty it is that through the luck of being born in a certain place, having a certain color skin, or a certain piece of paper, allows you to break the rules and receive special treatment while others are treated violently and dehumanized!

Model of Resistance and Resilience

“I'm not better than those who have been killed. We cannot remain silent.” - Muna* told us over mountains of delicious maklube that she had prepared for us.

After the massacre in 1994 in Hebron, when a Zionist extremist opened fire in the main mosque (the tomb of Abraham) on the last day of Ramadan, killing 29 and wounding hundreds. Israeli soldiers, thinking the shots were part of a Palestinian uprising, killed several other individuals packed into the mosque that day. The city went under curfew (effective house arrest) for several weeks, and a number of other Palestinians who went into the streets to buy more food were shot.

During this time, Muna challenged the curfew by going out and spoke to journalists about the situation. Though her life was threatened, she said she was not worried about being killed, because doing the right thing was more important to her life.

A few years later, Israeli soldiers dragged a young man into her house to be beaten. “This was an insult to me and my home, to beat a man in it, so I demanded that they leave,” she said. The soldiers pointed a gun at her and at man's head, but she wrapped her arms around the young man and said, “this is my son!” The soldiers began to beat her as well.

Muna filed a complaint against the soldiers at the police station, a process that took four days. She spent many hours waiting at the police station, and commented that typically people would give up after waiting four or five hours without being able to speak to anyone. In this case, the soldier was removed from his post, though very often, complaints by Palestinians are ignored or dismissed.

Muna is a beacon of strength and inspiration. She called for more women to lead in nonviolent resistance against the soldiers, because the soldiers are more reluctant to attack women. Muna is a school principal, manages a boys' soccer team (shattering stereotypes in the process!), has created playground spaces below military outposts, and is translating a film on Druze soldiers from Arabic to English, among other endeavors. She creates gardens to make the spaces which she has control over more beautiful, in contrast with the barricades and razor wire outside of her home.

Through educating, standing up against injustice, and her creativity and resilience, for me, Muna is a model of nonviolent resistance, one of many, many inspiring people we've been able to meet throughout Jerusalem and the West Bank.

*Not her real name.

Weeping for peace in Jerusalem

Today was my first full day in Jerusalem; I arrived in the Old City of Jerusalem yesterday evening at dusk and could hear prayers coming from the Mosque of Omar while standing in the plaza of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, watching the faithful light candles at Christ’s Tomb. It was very surreal. After a delicious dinner followed by mint tea and engaging conversation with friends who live on the Mount of Olives, I slept 11 hours and awoke refreshed and ready to take in Jerusalem’s sites, before the delegation begins tomorrow afternoon.

The highlight of the day was visiting Dominus Flevit ("Jesus Wept") Church, the place where it is believed that Jesus wept for Jerusalem on his triumphant ride into town on a donkey, according to Luke 19: “As he drew near, he saw the city and wept over it, saying, ‘If this day you only knew what makes for peace--but now it is hidden from your eyes. For the days are coming upon you when your enemies will raise a palisade against you.’”

The church is surrounded by 2000-year old olive trees and near the traditional location of the Garden of Gethsemane. The place was especially meaningful for me, not only because it there were less tourists there than at many other sites, but also because I too, weep for Jerusalem and want to know what will make for peace among all peoples here.

Tomorrow I start the delegation... hopefully I will find some answers, or the start to some answers, about what makes for peace...

Solidarity with the Church in the Holy Land

As a Christian who believes it is each of our calling to work to build the peaceful and just world that God intended, I have felt called for some time to visit the Holy Land and better understand the conflict there. I know that while violence rages and peace talks stall, ordinary people of many faiths are demonstrating radical courage and love in working to promote peace and I want to learn from them in order to better understand my own calling as a peacemaker.

I want to express my solidarity with people, Palestinian and Israeli, who are suffering from needless violence. My faith identity allows me to express a special solidarity with Christians struggling there. A friend recently sent me an article published in America Magazine's blog, A Vanishing Church which highlights the recent Middle East Synod meeting around the vanishing Christian population in the Holy Land. It's brief and very much worth a read. “The future of the Church in the Holy Land is now in doubt unless fellow Christians around the world step up efforts to help them," a church leader shared. Why is the Church vanishing? The article provides several examples:

Most Christian owned lands have been and continue to be confiscated for the building of illegal settlements. Home of Our Lady of Sorrows outside Jerusalem, is one of many examples. The Sisters there care for the elderly. Yet a giant wall has been built on their property effectively cutting off their patients from their families and limiting hospital access.

There have also been more than 500 visas denied for religious and clergy who live and work in the West Bank and Gaza denying them entry into Palestine. Making them unable to minister to its’ people. Some priests are even afraid to leave, for fear they may not be allowed to return.

There are a number of reasons I will visit the Holy Land, but I wanted to highlight one dear to my heart. On this day when we celebrate the Epiphany, may we pray for peace for all people in the place where, 2000 years ago wise people pilgrimaged to visit the Prince of Peace, humbly lying in a manger.

Exciting birthday news: Upcoming trip to Israel/Palestine

“Dear young people...Become craftsmen of a new humanity, where brothers and sisters - members all of the same family - are able at last to live in peace,” Pope John Paul II implored.

The words convict me. For over two years, I’ve lived in Washington DC, the capital city of the most powerful nation in the world, doing ministry in national-level faith-based non-profit organizations. The work has been meaningful, the lessons, plentiful. I’ve grown, and I’ve developed a better understanding of my vocation.

But I’ve also felt removed. Removed from the experiences of kids like Chuy, son of migrant farmworkers for whom I was a camp counselor in Bonita Springs, FL. Removed from the suffering of Gloria and her baby Isabella, an undocumented woman abused by her husband, whom I accompanied at the Houston Catholic Worker. I “work for justice and peace,” but inside the Beltway, where my work often focuses and policy and education several levels removed from real, living people, I become disconnected. I’m less often friends and companions of members of the human family who are at the margins.

Our vocation, JP2 said, is to be craftsmen and women of a new humanity. How do we do that? In my 26th year of life, I’m looking for answers to this question. I believe that God calls me, and all of us, to reject violence and to live out Jesus’ call to be peacemakers. One of the ways I want to explore this call be is through attending a two-week delegation to Israel/Palestine with Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) in January 2011.

On this delegation, we will learn from and dialogue with full-time CPT staffmembers, government officials, NGOs, and the active, creative nonviolent movements throughout Israel/Palestine. We will express our support and solidarity with the Palestinian Christians suffering in Gaza and the West Bank. We will document human rights abuses and publicly witness that we seek to end U.S.-supported violence. We will return home with personal stories of the relationships that we have developed and the way in which nonviolence is being practiced in a place where peace may sometimes seem hopeless, like a naïve dream.

As some of you know, I have been discerning participating in nonviolent accompaniment for several years. I’m both nervous and excited to take this next step, and I ask you, my beloved community, for your support through:

Your curiosity/accompaniment – I want to be in dialogue with you about these issues, to hear your perspectives, experiences, and your own personal sense of vocation. I want to be able to share my experiences with you. And I’d be very happy to share with you or your community my experiences after I return. It would be an honor to share this journey with you.

Your prayers – If you are someone who prays, I ask you to pray for the people of Israel/Palestine who have experienced decades violence. Please pray for interfaith cooperation and understanding, for renewed commitment to nonviolence, and for the end to senseless killing and hatred. Pray for an end to the illegal Israeli settlements on Palestinian land. I also ask that you pray for the delegation – for our safety, for open hearts, meaningful experiences and dialogue, and opportunities to share about our time upon return.

Your finances – By partnering with myself and with CPT, you’ll be sustaining the efforts of men and women who are taking Christ’s message of peace around the world into places where violence is a way of life. Your support makes you a fellow peacemaker in CPT’s work. You’ll also help support me in covering the cost of this trip as I put myself through an MA program in Pastoral Studies. Donations are tax-deductible.

If you’d like to support my trip, I’d love to talk with you more about it. You can visit my fundraising page at http://www.firstgiving.com/cptjennsvetlik or email me.

Never thought i'd be quoting andy rooney, but thought this was worth sharing:

60 Minutes Commentary, May 30, 2010

We use the phrase, “They gave their lives.” They didn’t give their lives, their lives were taken from them. There is more bravery in war than in peace. It seems wrong that we have so often saved this virtue to use for our least noble activity—war. The goal of war is to cause death to other people. Because I was in the Army during WWII, I have more to remember that most of you. I had good friends who were killed…I won’t think of them more tomorrow, Memorial Day, than I will think of them any other day of my life. Remembering doesn’t do the dead any good of course, it’s for ourselves, the living.

I wish we could dedicate Memorial Day, not to the memory of those who have died at war, but to the idea of saving the lives of the young people who are going to die in the future if we don’t find some new way, some new religion maybe, that takes war out of our lives. That would be a Memorial Day worth celebrating.

yah, andy! let's give peace (and non-violent resistance) a chance!

coming across those delightful little kernals..

ever read old journal entries, notes to friends, or blog entries? for me its often an orienting experience: helps me better see where i've come from & where i'm being led. i did some of that tonight, as i try to make some decisions about my future, and came across something i wrote two months ago as an offhand reflection that really struck me tonight:

"...and the simple yet profound thought of the day is that communion with God gives us the ability to be intimate with many; we do not cling tightly to self when a fountain of abundant life flows within us & pours out in waves & cascades. it causes us to be able to love all those around us in a way that is true, deep, connected. it is the reason we can call the saints our friends & advocates and truly believe that they are - because the have the ability, even after death, to love so many, so freely & intimately."