Palestine
Many Christians who support Israel out of a fundamentalist Zionism forget that they have Palestinian brothers and sisters in Christ who suffer under the occupation. Collective punishments through fences, walls, checkpoints, and curfews fail to distinguish between the violent and the nonviolent. Israeli soldiers often do no better, as civilian casualties mount in their war on terror.
"We are all traumatized," said Elias Mishrawi, a Christian Palestinian businessman and political activist from Beit Sahour. "We no more know what is normal life.... Not only do I not see a light at the end of the tunnel. I don't see a tunnel."
While such despair is prevalent among Palestinians, following are the stories of three Palestinian Christians living and working in hope of peace while confronting the violence of occupation.
On April 4, 2002, Rev. Mitri Raheb was detained by Israeli soldiers as they ransacked the compound of Christmas Lutheran Church in Bethlehem, smashing windows, computers, and artwork. That attack, and the curfews that followed, have set back, but not squelched, a vision rooted in nonviolence and "contextual theology."
After a seminary education in Germany gave him answers to questions his people weren't asking, Raheb asked himself: What is good news for people who hear bad news every day?
Nurit Elhanan and her husband, Rami, both 52, are campaigning for an end to the Israeli occupation of the Palestinian territories. What's remarkable about their peace campaign?
My wife, Joy, my son, Luke, and I had dinner recently with our friend Michael Lerner and his wife, Debora, in their Berkeley, California home.
You wouldn't know it from media reports, but there's a hopeful movement being born in the Middle East
A young Israeli soldier kicks a small rubber ball to two Palestinian boys in the West Bank city of Hebron, his machine gun slapping gently against his back as he moves. His fellow soldiers smoke and play cards nearby. Men in long flowing robes and white headscarves pass boys riding donkeys, tiny Palestinian shops loaded with film and souvenirs, and stores whose doorways are filled with bulging sacks of colored spices and grains.
Just beyond the soldiers sits an immense, foreboding building—one of its two entrances is guarded by Palestinian soldiers, the other by Israelis. It’s called the Mosque of Abraham or the Tomb of the Patriarchs, depending on who’s speaking, and inside are massive stones marking the supposed burial sites of Abraham and Sarah. Concrete walls enclose the tombstones. Muslims and Jews can view them through a set of iron bars, but only from separated parts of the building. The structure was bisected in 1994 after a Jewish settler, an American, entered the building and killed 49 Palestinians preparing to celebrate the Muslim holy month of Ramadan.
The Israeli soldiers are also in Hebron, a Palestinian-controlled city of about 140,000, to guard Jewish settlers who live down the street in a compound distinctive for its brand-new buildings and the barbed wire that surrounds it. "Five hundred soldiers are here to guard 30 settler families," according to Bourke Kennedy, a member of the Christian Peacemaker Team in Hebron. The Jewish settlement is one of four in the Hebron district; roughly 6,000 Jewish settlers live in two settlements on the city’s outskirts. Because of their political and symbolic importance, settlements such as these have been targets—and impetus—for Hamas and other Palestinian groups who have resisted the Israeli occupation with violence.
