Spring 04 Reports: Easter Reflections

Spring 04 Reports: Easter Reflections

SPRING TEAM 2004 REPORTS:
Easter Reflections

Holy Saturday and I'm sitting alone on the top level of the convent's roof which looks down on much of the Old City. A remarkable view from which to watch the sunset. Birds are singing and circling over the red tile roofs while children laugh and mothers take down laundry from adjoining rooftop terraces. The sounds in Jerusalem are not subtle. Roosters crowing, birds chattering, ambulances howling, and calls to prayer echoing through the skies. Christian bells ring throughout the day, the Muslim call to prayer - so plaintive and wailing - and, as the sun sets, Jews pray as their Sabbath comes to a close.

O Jerusalem, Jerusalem. That you knew the ways that make for peace.

[more]

Would that all faiths just let this land be God's. Large Israeli flags ripple over the Jewish quarter suggesting an ideology of frontier. A staking out. A symbol of power. Why must people raise flags? How much better it is to raise children, flowers, spirits, hopes. The New Jerusalem is not, I think, a geographical place to be seized, but rather, a place without boundaries in which all God's children are welcome to dwell. The New Jerusalem is hidden in these back alleys and refugee camps and fearful hearts waiting to arise.

We saw many U.S. pilgrims today carrying a cross through the streets triumphantly and arrogantly, Christian Zionists. A group of them being given a tour by an Israeli guide sat next to us at lunch. When the waiter forgot to bring something to the table, the guide said to him, "That's the problem with you Palestinians." Later, I overheard him offer another disparaging remark to his tour group. These "pilgrims," it seems are being indoctrinated to loathe all things Palestinian and support, in the name of religion, the occupation and oppression. This not only reinforces their fundamentalist ideology but also has political and economic implications. The Sabeel conference will illuminate this problem in much greater detail.

This brand of Christianity seems so odd and aggressive and imperialistic in this rooted land. Such a contrast to the gentle Franciscan who guided us to Ecce Homo and to other Christians whose spirituality seem more at home here. There is a Christian tradition here that is as old as these stones and as mystical as an icon.

I have thought often here of my Greek grandfather and the tradition from which he came. The spirit of simplicity and service embodied in the nuns here lend a much-needed stability to the precarious and unpredictable nature of things in this tense place.

Today the streets were reserved for these tourists. Many of the streets in the Muslim section were blocked off by Israeli security forces, causing frustration and anger. Even the Church of the Holy Sepulchure was inaccessible, blocked off by a large contingency of soldiers. One of the streets sealed off by the military was the butcher's street, a move that we couldn't figure out since tourists would not be interested in buying the fresh meat that dangled from the butchers' doorways. The only people trying to gain access to this narrow street were locals. The decision to block entrance was obviously more a form of harassment than anything else. Unless one was with one of the "approved" tour groups, movement today was quite restricted.

These new Christians who wrap the cross in a flag scare me. The percentage of Palestinian Christians in this land has been greatly reduced over the past several years and one must feel for them as they suffer the same oppression as their Muslim brothers and sisters. Barb and I were moved by the desperation of Mike, a Palestinian Catholic seller of religious goods who literally begged us to buy rosaries, earrings, anything to support his suffering business. And yet, as we will be reminded at mass tonight, for, oppression, death does not, cannot, have the final word.

Behind our rooftop is another, smack in the center of the Muslim section. Atop this roof is a high, fenced-in parapet upon which perches a large Israeli flag. An electronic camera has its eye trained on the flag, lest one of the neighbors steal of deface it. I photographed this telling symbol and a few minutes later a group of teenage boys gathered on the high tower around the flag and started singing loudly and taunting me in Hebrew.

While this went on, I watched the sunset bring Sabbath to a close and prayed for these boys. I prayed that their hearts might be touched by the words of the Hebrew prophet who enjoined us to walk humbly, act justly, and love tenderly. I prayed that all those who profess Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or any other faith would, as the Quakers say," See that of God in the other."

Jesus is indeed here in Jerusalem, but not in the sites. He is entombed in the hearts of brothers and sisters who are too afraid to roll away the stone and see the divine reflection of themselves in the eyes of the other.

Have a Blessed Easter.

-Kim