Jerusalem

I arrived in Bethlehem last Sunday evening to speak at a conference called "Christ at the Checkpoint: Theology in the Service of Peace and Justice." I'm not a theologian or an expert in anything.

I've just returned to the U.S. following an exhilarating week leading a delegation of five members of Congress to Israel, Jordan, and the Palestinian Authority.

We have spoken with many Palestinians in the West Bank and in East Jerusalem so far in our pilgrimage, both Christian and Muslim. Their voices are seldom heard in our corporate media, so it has made sense to meet, listen to, and understand them.

Epiphany has passed as well as Coptic Christmas earlier in January. A beautifully carved olive wood figure I bought in Bethlehem a couple of years ago titled "The Flight to Egypt" is the last of my Christmas decorations.

Although Hani Abu Haikal is a Muslim, he probably can identify with the sense of panic Joseph and Mary must have felt as they searched for a place to stay as the time of Jesus' birth drew near.

When it comes to Israel/Palestine, the human story often gets lost in the confusion of ideology and politics. Let me just highlight the story of one woman, a wife and mother named Isme. Prior to October 12, 2009, Isme lived in a small but tidy one-story house in the outskirts of Jerusalem.

During these days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Jews are called on to reexamine our own actions -- our "missings of the mark." The emphasis is on OUR sins -- not those of individuals alone, but of the community -- and the sins of ourselves, not of other people, even our en