Cutting and Growing

Note- it seems that Blogger is eating posts, so this is a reproduction of a post from Thursday.

I mentioned yesterday that I'll be taking a renewal leave during the month of June, and one of the things I've considered doing is seeing what I look like clean shaven. It has been a while since I haven't worn any facial hair:

OK, not quite that long, but it sure feels like it!

I'd like to make this interesting, and to benefit some people in need while doing so. Luckily, the folks at One Day's Wages have provided an awesome opportunity. They just formed a new partnership with Eden Reforestation Projects in Ethiopia to raise enough money to plant 200,000 trees and provide 2,000 total days of employment to eco-workers serving with ERP. At a cost of about 10 cents per tree, I think we can all do something to help.

So here's how we make this interesting as well as helpful. Every person who makes a donation of any size will have their name entered in a drawing at least once. Every $10 (that's 100 trees!) you donate gets you an additional entry, to be held on Monday, June 6.

The winner of the drawing gets to decide what facial hair configuration I wear for at least two weeks during my renewal leave. You can choose darn near anything you want.

You can tell me to keep things the same,

or go Grizzly Adams,

Chester Arthur,

Errol Flynn,

Dr. McDreamy,

Abe Lincoln,

the soul-patch,

early 90's Luke Perry,

early 2000's boy band "pencil beard",

or pretty much anything else you can think of. I won't wear a Hitler mustache, mostly because I could slick my hair to the side and kind of resemble the guy, and since I'm not Prince Harry or Eric Cartman, I don't think that's very funny. (OK, not funny "ha ha", but "what the heck is wrong with you?" funny)

So let's help out a good cause and compete to get to have a laugh at my expense. Let's cut my beard and grow some trees.

Renewal Leave

I've shared before how I'll have my last Sunday with the people of Bethlehem on June 5, and I'll begin my pastorate at Arlington on July 3. I'm taking a few weeks to rest, recuperate, attend Annual Conference, and get ready to hit the ground running in my new congregation. I was referring to the month of June as a "short sabbatical", but someone informed me recently that a sabbatical has to be formally approved by the Board of Ordained Ministry, and that every pastor is entitled to a periodic "renewal leave" without having to ask anyone's permission. Gotta love United Methodists and all our specific terminology!

Knowing myself and how easily I become bored and depressed if I have nothing to do, I know I need some kind of plan for my renewal leave, but I'm not sure what I should do. Over lunch the other day, Jessica asked me if I was thinking of something more academic, reading through Barth's Church Dogmatics, for example; or spiritual, like Henry Nouwen did when he spent seven months at a Trappist monastery, chronicled in The Gennessee Diary.

While both of these ideas sound really interesting, this particular leave is lasting just under a month and will include Annual Conference. So while I can't do something terribly expansive, I would like to do something focused, perhaps something I can blog about on a regular basis.

So I put the question to you, dear reader. What should I do with my renewal leave? What should I read? How should I structure my day? What would be beneficial not only to me but to the relatively few people who read my blog (hi, Mom and Dad)?

I'm open to suggestion, and if someone shares an idea that I run with, you'll get credit if I produce something interesting from it.

Unfinished Business?

As I have less than a month to go before my last Sunday with Bethlehem, I've been reflecting back on the last four years, what I've learned, what I've done well, the many things I've done wrong, etc. I've especially thought a lot about the previous two years and everything that has happened since the fire.

One of the questions I've gotten from more than a few people is why I'm leaving now. Specifically, they wonder why I "don't want to see it (the building project) through" or if I'm leaving things "unfinished".

Honestly, I asked those questions for several months as the sense that I needed to move on began to grow. Would walking away now make two years worth of hard work all be for nothing? Would moving on now be saying that I couldn't handle a difficult situation? What would this mean for my legacy at Bethlehem?

Pondering these questions made me realize that my main motivation for staying would be for the sake of my own ego, for the opportunity to be the guy standing front and center on the day we dedicate the new building. One member of my congregation told me that I "deserve to preach the first sermon in the new sanctuary". Whether that's true is for other people to decide, and reasons of ego are a bad reason to do anything, especially to stay too long in a pastoral role.

I blogged about my rationale for leaving a while back, and those reasons are the final result of a lot of reflection and prayer. One of the things that has kept coming to me over and over as I've pondered my future is how Paul corrects the people in the church at Corinth (1 Corinthians 3) when they're arguing about who they "belong to" and use that to argue that one person is better than another. Paul reminds them that he, Apollos, and any other person are just laborers, that God is the one who makes everything happens, and that only God is worthy of the glory afforded by saying someone "belongs to" them.

I came to realize (with the help of some wise friends) that my desire to be front and center the day we dedicate the new building, to have my name on the plaque saying who built the building, was a desire for the glory and credit that belong to God and not to me or anyone else. I also came to realize that the day the congregation dedicates the new building will not be the day they arrive at some perfect status. There will always be more work to do, just as there was much work done before I ever got there. Thinking that my leadership is somehow crucial is pretty darn arrogant. There is always "unfinished business" at the end of every pastorate- it's just a little more obvious in this case.

In any case, we did come to a natural point of completion. The ground-breaking on Palm Sunday symbolized the end of the fire chapter of the church's life, with all the hard work of grieving (although the grieving has not ended for some), recovering, visioning, and planning for the future. We even set up the space for the ceremony to resemble the first worship following the fire. Now that the ground is broken, the congregation can focus on nesting in the new building and what that will mean for their future, and that chapter of their lives will be overseen by a new pastor.

I look forward to witnessing the fruits of our labor together from afar, knowing that no matter what person gets the credit in the eyes of some people, it's God who has made it all happen.

Preaching bin Laden's Death

Note- this post was picked up by Ministry Matters, so you can participate in the conversation there if you prefer

I haven't been able to turn on the TV in the last 24 hours without hearing people analyze the death of Osama bin Laden from every conceivable angle. Even though it's Monday, it's very likely that this will still be on people's minds come Sunday. So if we are to do theology with "the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other", as Karl Barth said (or having both apps open on our iPad), then clearly pastors have to say something about it in the coming days.

I've had a lot of thoughts, few of them complete and some that are even in tension with one another, so I'm just going to throw them up here and invite discussion.

If you're a pastor, I'm really curious about how you're planning on addressing this issue. If you're a church-goer, I'd love to hear what you think your pastor might say or how you would want your pastor to address this. And if you're not a church-goer, what would you imagine a loving, faithful pastoral response would be?

OK, here goes.

The first images I saw were of a crowd of mostly college students cheering and spilling beer on one another outside the White House, acting like their team had just won a championship. That made my stomach turn, because it's likely that few if any of these people actually lost anyone in 9/11 or the War on Terror.

Speaking of the families of the victims, we saw images of a much more somber gathering at Ground Zero. All the victims' families expressed relief that bin Laden is no longer able to hurt anyone, but they also acknowledged that it won't bring their loved ones back.

I can also understand relief and celebration on the part of our servicemen and women, who have been feeling the strain of the War on Terror for a decade now.

Having spent a lot of time with combat veterans the past few years, I've noticed a clear difference in the attitudes of those who have seen the guy next to them get killed, and the attitudes of those whose combat experience comes solely from playing first-person-shooter video games. Those who have seen combat first hand don't have any romantic notions about it, nor do they cheer and chest-thump when hearing tales of others in combat.

While I'm not sad that he's gone, I don't believe we should rejoice at the death of anybody, even a person as evil as bin Laden.

I'm uncomfortable at how many Christians on the net are rejoicing about bin Laden being in Hell. That may well be the case, but let's leave judgment to God, and direct our energy toward compassion for his victims.

How will bin Laden's death impact the very poor perception (born out of more than a little latent racism) of Muslims and Arab-Americans?

What will this mean in terms of our involvement in Afghanistan?

I was really shocked that bin Laden was still alive. Since he's easily recognizable, has serious health problems, and was supposedly living in caves all these years, I figured he was dead.

Since he was living in a suburb of Islamabad, what does that say about Pakistan and our diplomatic and military relationships with them?

I really appreciate hearing how our military went about this raid. They verified their intelligence, and they went in and did a "surgical strike" (I think that's the correct term) on the ground, doing everything they could to make sure bystanders didn't get caught in the crossfire. I'm impressed that we didn't bomb the whole neighborhood in hopes of getting him and chalking all the other deaths up to "collateral damage".

I also appreciate how they buried bin Laden's body in accordance with Islamic tradition, washing the body and saying prayers before burying it at sea. I applaud them for maintaining the moral high ground when few people would have faulted them for doing otherwise.

I struggle with the idea that we "had" to kill bin Laden. It was a choice, and I think there were no good options available. He actively plotted acts of terror and rejoiced in the deaths of innocent people, so doing nothing to stop him when we had the ability to would make us complicit in his acts. If someone was going to harm my family and I harmed them in the process of preventing them from doing so, I would not consider it a "good" thing, but doing nothing would have been worse. I'm not comfortable with the phrase "necessary evil", but I do believe that the reality of living in a fallen world means that we sometimes have to choose the "least bad option" when good options are off the table.

A few scriptural passages that have come to my mind or have been mentioned by others that may be relevant:
Ezekiel 18:32 For I take no pleasure in the death of anyone, declares the Sovereign LORD. Repent and live!

Proverbs 24:17 Do not gloat when your enemy falls; when they stumble, do not let your heart rejoice

And, of course, Matthew 5:44-45 (the whole Sermon on the Mount, for that matter) But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.

OK, so that's my brain dump. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Where am I right? Where am I wrong? What haven't I considered? All I ask is that you keep the comments respectful.

400 Years of the KJV

On May 2, 1611, the King James Version of the Bible made its debut. To mark the 400th anniversary of this still highly influential translation, the folks at YouVersion put together a kind of virtual flashmob, where everyone who signed up was given one chapter to read at noon EDT. So many people signed up that the entire KJV was read over eight times this afternoon!

I was assigned Joel 1, and here's my contribution.

What about ye, dear reader? Didst thou participate in reading ye ol' KVJ today? Hast thou a favorite passage using the King's English?

Further Adventures in Shameless Self Promotion

Today an article I wrote is on the front page of the worship section of Ministry Matters.

The article is called Worship for Communities in Crisis, and it talks about how we used the first worship service after the Bethlehem UMC fire in 2009 to give voice to what our community was feeling and to help begin facilitating the grief process. The article also includes the order of worship for that Sunday in PDF form.

I pray that no other pastors and churches out there have to go through an experience like this, but unfortunately I know that it will happen, so I hope what I've shared is somehow useful to them, or just interesting for those who plan and lead worship.

Good Friday Meditation

I've been pondering the significance of Lent this year and what the purpose of a Lenten fast really is. Denying myself something like coffee or chocolate for a certain period of time is a good discipline, I suppose, but I don't really feel like I'm growing closer to understanding the suffering of Jesus through doing it.

But how do we really get in touch with Jesus' suffering without going to extreme lengths like these guys in the Philippines who have themselves crucified every year? Plus, I'm not sure that's the point, either.

At its most basic level, I take the story of Jesus' passion and death to be a demonstration of how God experiences everything that human beings experience, and by going through these things and coming out on the other side, we know that all the pain of this life ends, but life itself does not.

The Gethsemane part of the passion story has always been very meaningful to me because it's easier to see myself in this story. I've never known extreme physical suffering, but I do know what it is to have crippling anxiety and deep, painful loneliness. I can also see myself in the shoes of Peter, James, and John, being so oblivious to how a friend is hurting that it's like I'm asleep in their hour of need, only to realize how badly I've screwed up after the fact.

So on this Good Friday, I'm using a song by Eli (one of the few Christian artists who isn't afraid to sing about what people really go through, and not just sing "Jesus is my Boyfriend" songs), called "King of the Hill", and it's enhanced with some images from Mel Gibsons Passion of the Christ.



I hope this enhances your experience of this holy day in some small way.

Breaking Ground

AOn Palm Sunday afternoon we broke ground on the new building for Bethlehem United Methodist Church. We had over one hundred people join us for the ceremony, including several former pastors, and my successor, who will begin serving Bethlehem in July.

The Leaf Chronicle covered the event.

The groundbreaking was really special for me because it marked the end of a nearly two year process of recovery, visioning, and planning following the fire, as well as symbolically marking the end of my tenure with Bethlehem.

BUMC's choir began the service by singing "Holy Ground"

Several congregational officers and I dug the ceremonial first shovels-full of dirt with our golden shovel (a regular shovel from Lowes covered in metallic spray paint!).

I got chills as I pronounced the words from the Book of Worship's Order for the Breaking of Ground for a Church Building.

After the ceremony, we invited everyone to take the shovel and dig. Kate wanted to get in on the action, of course.

Afterward, Jessica and my mom gave me a gift they'd been planning and working on sporadically for nearly six years (it was originally intended as an engagement present). They made a stole with symbols that reflect what is really important to me in ministry.

The Big Reveal

OK, so after a couple weeks of having to sit on this news (although several folks have already found out), I can announce where I'll be moving this summer.

Starting in July I'll begin serving as the pastor of Arlington United Methodist Church in Nashville.

This is very exciting for a number of reasons. Nashville is my hometown, so we'll be closer to my parents, not to mention where Jessica works, so no more 100 mile roundtrip commutes every day!

But there's another reason I'm excited about this appointment. I've actually worshipped at Arlington before:

These photos were taken in February of 1981, when my parents were members of Arlington. I was baptized there by Dr. Glen Phillips, and the church has had a number of amazing pastors in its history, so I have some very large shoes to fill.

This move is also great for us because it has given Jessica and I the opportunity to buy our first home.

We had the inspection done today, and everything looks great. We feel very blessed to have found such a great place for our children to grow up. We'll close in the next few weeks and move in soon after that. Check Jessica's blog soon for the first of what will be many, many posts on our house.

The only sad part, of course, is that I'm leaving the wonderful people of Bethlehem. My four years with them have been great, the last two very eventful and memorable. We'll break ground on our new building on Sunday, which will mark the end of the "fire and recovery" chapter of BUMC's history, so it's a fitting time to end my tenure and let them begin this new chapter with a new pastor.

Thanks to all those who have been inquiring about our next step and praying for us. Before 2011 is out we'll have a new church, a new baby, and a new house. More prayers, please!

Proud Spouse Promotion!

My wife, Jessica, and her team have been working for months on the new resource website from the Publishing House, and it launched earlier this week. So here it is!

Introducing MinistryMatters.com!

The site is a one-stop-shop for Sunday mornings. It has resources on preaching, teaching, worship, leadership, and many other things. It also includes access to a number of different biblical commentaries and posts from interesting folks' blogs, and even podcasts.

Quick disclaimer- you will find some of my material on the site, so my praise is biased, but there is a lot of really great stuff there.

While the site is still in the Beta stage, access to all the resources is free. In a little while there will be a few different categories of subscriptions, but for all the stuff you get, it's worth the money.

Check it out and leave a comment or two, because the team is always looking to make improvements.

A Parable of the Kingdom?

I found this over at the Emergent Village blog. I hope they don't mind me sharing this:

What is the Kingdom of God like, you ask?

A woman lived in rural central California. She was known for her kindness, generosity and love, but she was also fair and just. Her five children were normal kids, but the four youngest were known around town for their rebellious streaks. As a single mom, she did the best she could to establish both love and rules in the house, but four of her kids desired freedom over relationship. So one evening, the four youngest filled their backpacks and ran away.


The mom woke up and, finding four of her children’s beds empty, began to weep. She would not rest until her children returned home or she found them. Being a farm owner, she had plenty of hired hands to help in her search. She put the farm’s business on hold and sent her workers out to search for her lost darlings. She spent every last dime printing pamphlets, recording radio spots and inundating the TV with ads exclaiming her love for her children and her pleas for them to return home into her loving arms. All that she had, was and would be theirs.


Then one day, it happened. One of her runaways returned home. Seeing and hearing her message, his heart melted and he came back. She embraced him, welcoming him home. She turned to her eldest son (the one that never ran away) and asked if he would help find and bring back the others. He set out with a mission and a message. When he found two of the three, he told them of their mom’s love for them and how badly she missed them and her relentless desire for all of them to come home. He also reminded them of the Great Rule, but they refused to come back with him. He never did find the forth lost one.


Years passed and no sign of her kids. Regardless, a great rule had been violated. So she climbed into her pickup truck with a few hired hands and set out to bring her children home. On May 17, she found them.


All three were huddled up near a dumpster, clutching a worn blanket. They saw her truck approach and, too tired to run, they just sat with terror I their eyes. See, while away, they had been told countless lies by countless people that their mom was not a kind woman, that she did not love them and that she was mad-as-hell at them. Added to this were their incredible loneliness, shame and feelings of worthlessness. Living on the street—isolated from love—can do this to anyone, and it certainly did them. Seeing her children and hearing about their condition, the mother reassured them of her love. But despite her undying, never-ending motherly love for her children, she knew that the Great Rule had been violated and she must act accordingly.


They pulled up into the driveway and the truck came to a dusty halt. The hired hands helped the kids climb out of the back of the truck. As the mom walked to the house she looked back one last time at her kids. Motioning to the hired hands, she firmly declared, “Take them away. They violated the Great Rule and did not return to me on their own.”


“But mom….!?”


“Not another word,” she interrupted. “Whether you knew it or not, The Great Rule says that my children shall not run away and that if they do, they are to return on their own within three years. If they do not, I will find them and the Great Punishment must be inflicted. I even sent my oldest son for you, but you did not believe him.”


“Mom, we are sorry. We were scared, hurting and full of shame. We did things we are not proud of and that you would not approve of. Deep inside, when the nights were the quietest, we knew you loved us but we were afraid that you would have nothing to do with us after all we had done.”


With tears in her eyes she slowly replied, “I understand, I see you are truly sorry and I love you. But there is nothing I can do; I am powerless against the Great Rule. Three years have passed, you did not return and the Rule is the Rule.” With that, she turned and walked towards the house where her returning-son stood on the porch, watching.


The hired hands, still clutching the children by the arms, took them away to the barn…even the fourth child who never heard the eldest son’s message. As directed by the Great Punishment, they entered the barn, tied the children to the posts and began beating them. Next came the kerosene. Then, in the midst of their screams and under the watchful eye of their loving mom, they and the barn were set ablaze.


The loving, kind, full-of-mercy, just and righteous mom, turning from the window overlooking the burning barn, looked at her oldest son and the child who returned to her, wiped the tear from her eye and smiled. She motioned once more to her hired hands and—with the other children still burning and screaming outside—the feast of feasts, the party of parties, began. The mom, her eldest son, her returning-on-his-own child, and even her hired hands lived, feasted, and partied…happily…ever…after.


The End.


Now go, and share this GOOD NEWS of the Kingdom. Praise be to God.


For those that missed the irony, this retelling of the modern evangelical Christian meta-narrative shows how unbelievably screwed up our theology is when we're very comfortable with the everyone burning in Hell,  and offended by everyone going to Heaven. Check out all the noise people have made over Rob Bell's latest book, Love Wins, if you want to know what I'm talking about.

This little parable doesn't prove universalism is true or that Hell doesn't exist, of course, but it does raise a question about what we really believe. Do we really believe that God's love conquers all, or do we believe that Jesus somehow exploits a loophole in the system set up by an angry, wrathful deity? And if the latter is the case, do we really believe that God is triune and completely of one essence in three persons?

On a personal note, as a father, myself, this story makes me sick. If this truly were the essence of the Christian faith, then I'd walk away and never set foot in a church again. Sadly, we've done a very good job convincing the world that this really is Christianity, and they've acted accordingly. I, for one, don't blame them.

Let's make sure we're not only telling a better story, but a true story about who God really is.

Pilgrimage

I've been promising further reflection on several experiences from Project Israel, and I haven't forgotten about them. For better or worse, I've been rather distracted lately with finishing certain pieces of business at Bethlehem, specifically the groundbreaking for the new building on Palm Sunday, and taking care of managing the transition to my new appointment. More details on that to come, later too. (promises, promises...)

One thing I have kept asserting to everyone I've talked to since I got back is that this experience was not merely a trip, but a pilgrimage. While I fear coming off sounding snooty, as if my experience was somehow on a different plain unattainable by others, I do believe that the purpose of our journey was specific enough to warrant the designation.

This was not a vacation, although I did find the change of pace restful in its own way. Nor was this merely an educational experience, although I learned a tremendous amount. To paraphrase our guide, Peter Miano (who runs the Society for Biblical Studies), a pilgrimage is unique (specifically, different from commercial sightseeing) because the places you visit require investing something of yourself. These places ask deep questions of you, and the experience of the journey changes you in some fundamental way.

Or, to quote Paul Elie, "the process of pilgrimage is how we take others’ stories and, while remaining faithful to them, make them our own".

I hope to finish a post these further reflections in the next week (otherwise Holy Week will do me in and put them off God knows how long) and share a bit about how these places challenged me with some deep questions, and how these others' stories have now become part of my own.

43 Years Ago Last Night

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his last speech, in Memphis.



43 years ago today he was martyred by the forces of hatred.



But his legacy lives on, because the gospel he preached is more powerful than death.



Rest in peace, Dr. King. We're not there yet, but because of you we're a lot closer.

If Only I Could Preach Like This Guy

Changes

I shared the news with my congregation this morning, so I'll share it with the blogosphere now. I'll be leaving Bethlehem United Methodist Church in June.

A few people have expressed surprise because the rebuilding isn't yet complete. It's true that the physical construction won't be complete for about another year, but the church is about to start a new chapter in it's life. The past two years have been about mourning, regrouping, visioning, and planning. The groundbreaking (which will be in a few weeks, pending an affirmative vote at next week's charge conference) will mark the end of that chapter and the beginning of the nesting chapter of their story.

After a whole lot of prayer, contemplation, and conversations with people I trust, I became convinced that the best way for the church to leave this chapter behind and start a new one was with a new pastor, and that the energy and excitement that a pastoral change brings will provide the right momentum to carry them into the new building.

I have mixed emotions about leaving, of course. There are many people I will miss, and my ego makes me want very badly to be the person at the front and center when they dedicate the new building. But rarely does any change in life come painlessly, and I have peace that this is the right thing.

One of the unique things about our United Methodist system is that we are appointed by the Bishop to our areas of ministry, and there is a period of time where appointments are "projected" where we can't really tell anyone because the appointment picture for the whole conference isn't yet complete. So I know where I've been appointed for the coming year, but I can't share that just yet! I'll announce it as soon as I'm able.

But for now there is still work to do. Next week Bethlehem will have a Charge Conference for the final vote on the building, and if the consensus that seems to be developing translates into the necessary votes, we will break ground on the new building very soon. As hard as much of this experience has been, I will look back fondly on my time as pastor of Bethlehem.

The Things They Don't Teach You about The Things They Don't Teach You in Seminary

One of the running jokes among clergy is about the literally endless list of things they don't teach you about in seminary. Whether it's dealing with facilities issues, difficult people in your congregation, or unclogging toilets, I and many other pastors tend to laugh about these unexpected things and put them on that proverbial list.

As a seminary student, and now as a young clergy person, I've been extremely blessed to have older clergy to talk to about situations I face, get their advice, and hear their stories. And now that I've got a bit of experience under my belt, I've really enjoyed talking to seminary students and sharing some of the things I had to learn (often the hard way) after seminary.

I'm starting to wonder, however, how much of those "things they didn't teach me" are really applicable to other people and how much is just me and others universalizing our own experience.

I wonder this because I've had conversations with older clergy where they've said that certain things would definitely happen to me during my career. Some things, people blaming you for their own personal problems, for example, have happened and I'm glad someone told me it would. But there are other things that I haven't yet encountered and may never encounter. Some of the "this will happen to you" stories I've heard are so bizarre I can't imagine them happening to every single pastor!

I've certainly been guilty of this, too. I think I unnecessarily scared a younger colleague once when I told them how badly the Board of Ordained Ministry would treat them, based on my own previous experience. This person didn't encounter those same difficulties, so I wonder if I caused them undue anxiety. On the other hand, perhaps it caused them to prepare differently. I'm not really sure.

The real question is how much of our own personal experience is normative to what others experience, and is therefore instructive, and how much of it is so unique to our own situations that universalizing it is more about making ourselves feel important than it is about imparting wisdom to another.

Regardless of what the answer to this question is, one of the most powerful things we can do together in any type of community is to share our stories with one another. Whether or not our experience exactly matches that of another, we can find common ground in all of our stories. We've all experienced joy, excitement, frustration, anger, discouragement, and confusion. Particularly when it comes to negative emotions, it can be easy to believe that we are the only ones who feel this way, and hearing another's story reminds us that we are not alone.

So how much of my own story is helpful and instructive for others and how much is just my own junk? Well, that's something they didn't teach me in seminary.

Project Israel- Mishmar ha Emek

One our second full day of the Holy Land pilgrimage, we visited a Kibbutz called Mishmar ha Eemek. A Kibbutz is a collective community, most of which were begun in the early twentieth century by Jews immigrating from Europe before the foundation of the state of Israel in 1948. As of 2000, there were approximately 268 kibbutzim in Israel (according to the Jewish Virtual Library), but they hardly look alike, as operate on a variety of different models due to generational shifts in philosophy.

Mishmar ha Emek means "guard of the valley" in Hebrew. It is located in Northern Israel, just west of Megiddo. It was also the site of a battle between Israeli and Arab Liberation Army (supplied by the Syrians) forces in 1948.

What really struck me about kibbutzim in general is that they were begun as utopian communities for Jews fleeing persecution, but they were all non-religious, and most of them staunchly atheist. Their Jewish identity was more rooted in ethnic heritage, which was made stronger by the anti-Semitism they experienced in their countries of origin.

I've been pondering why that was so surprising to me, and I'm pretty sure it's because I'm very steeped in the modern, Western understanding of what religion is- sets of beliefs and practices that are almost entirely divorced from ethnicity, region, culture and language. I'm used to people being able to change religions any time they feel like it, so it still surprises me when someone identifies themselves as an atheist, and at the same time as Jewish.

Lydia Eisenburg, our guide around the kibbutz, told us about growing up in England being asked by other kids where her horns where and being called up in front of her class at school to explain why her people killed Christ. So even though it seems unusual to me, I can understand why such treatment would cause you to identify with a particular ethnic and cultural heritage even if you didn't subscribe to its theological beliefs.

One question our group got to ask a bit about, which I wish we'd had more time to explore with her, was why she felt so particularly attached to the land of Israel. I understand wanting to leave a society that treated you as a second class citizen because of your Jewish heritage, but why this particular land rather than, for example, the United States (where 5 million of the world's 12 million Jews reside) or any other place?

This question particularly sticks with me in light of the conversation I had several days later with a self-identified "Fundamentalist Zionist" who grounded all of his arguments for possession of the land in his understanding of God's promises in the Torah (the full story on that conversation is forthcoming). Clearly, as Avihai Stollat of Breaking the Silence told us, there are many different understandings of what "Zionism" is among the people of Israel.

Lydia's answer: "What Zionism means to me? This!" as she picked up a rock from the path we were walking on. So for a member of a kibbutznik (member of a kibbutz) who is not particularly religious, what causes them to cling to their Jewish identity is a mixture of early life experience, tradition they have received from their families, and some transcendent sense of connection to this land that can't really be put into words.

As I said before, I wish I'd gotten to ask her further questions about this connection to the land, and I think some in our group may have done so during the rest of our brief visit. If any of them can expand on this, please comment below!

Next I'll be posting on our visit to the Tent of Nations and and the al Arub refugee camp: two of the first Palestinian voices we heard on our pilgrimage.

Project Israel- Coming Soon

Hey everyone. I've been busy in the days since we returned from the Holy Land catching up with members of my congregation and working to finish several unfinished projects, to say nothing of beginning the season of Lent!

All this is to say that there are about a half dozen further reflections from the pilgrimage that I promised in the daily posts, and those will be forthcoming starting next week. Thanks to all who have commented on Facebook and other places. I look forward to sharing even more of the experience with you very soon.

Project Israel- Breaking the Silence

During our pilgrimage to the Holy Land we had the great fortune to meet with Avihai Stollat, who works with an organization called Breaking the Silence. BTS collects and shares the stories of former Israeli soldiers (every citizen, male and female, is required to serve) telling what they did in the Palestinian territories at the orders of their government.

Our group spent about an hour in conversation with Avihai, and with his permission I recorded our interaction and share parts of it with you here.

(I will be sharing my own reactions to this encounter in context of what I learned during my time in the Holy Land, but my commentary is best reserved for another time. For now I want to let Avihai speak for himself, which you will see is very powerful.)

Avihai began by telling us about his own experience serving in the IDF in the Palestinian Territories.





Avihai then answered questions from the group. First he was asked about the kinds of stories he has heard from other soldiers.



He then answered my question about what he was taught growing up and in his military training about the relationship between Israel and Palestine.



He also shared about the Israeli government's reaction to BTS' activities.



Avihai shared about his very limited exposure to Palestinians prior to joining the military.



He told us about the diversity of opinions amongst Iraelis regarding the Palestinian conflict.



Because the state of Israel is often associated with the word "Zionism", Avihai reflected on the many different ways Israelis understand that term.



On a related note, he also reflected on how he understands his Jewish identity and Israel's role as a Jewish state.



Each person in our group was profoundly moved by our conversation with Avihai Stollat and the witness of Breaking the Silence. I hope these videos have given you a sense of what we experienced.

My thanks to the General Board of Church and Society of the United Methodist Church and The Society for Biblical Studies for the opportunity for our group to have this transformational experience.

Project Israel- Jerusalem

On our last day, we visited the Old City in Jerusalem. First we headed to the Western Wall (also known as the Wailing Wall), where people have placed prayers for centuries. I was honored to carry the prayers of my family, friends, and my congregation to this holy place.

The Western Wall is part of the Temple Mount built by Solomon, and expanded several times by various rulers. Currently the Temple Mount occupies 35 acres, making in the largest man-made platform in the world, and is the site of the Dome of the Rock- the 3rd holiest site in Islam (it contains the rock from which Mohammed is said to ascended to Heaven). This is the site of the First and Second Temples (built by Solomon and Herod, respectively), as well as Mt. Moriah, where Abraham nearly sacrificed Isaac (according to Christians and Jewish tradition) or Ishmael (according to Muslim tradition)- Genesis 28 and   Surrah 37, respectively.

We then walked through the Old City to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which is a mish-mash of various chapels venerating the site of Jesus' crucifixion, his tomb, and the "Center of the World", where it is said that God collected the clay used to make Adam.

 Me venerating the site of Jesus' crucifixion, inhaling the incense. Very cool.

The aedicule over the site of Jesus' tomb. Pictures were not allowed inside.

Next we walked out of the Old City, stopping by the Lithostratos (Greek for "pavement"), where first century paving stones that Jesus may have walked on the Via Dolorosa (Latin for "Way of Sorrows"). One of the stones has a game etched into it that Roman soldiers played when charged with a condemned prisoner. We also visited the Convent of the Sisters of Zion, whose Basilica contains the Ecce Homo (Latin for "Behold the Man") arch, over the site of the old Fortress Antonia, where Pilate condemned Jesus. This is the traditional beginning of the Stations of the Cross.

Then we drove up to the Mount of Olives, which provides a spectacular view of Jerusalem. While we were there we saw the President of Chile giving a statement to the media, marking Chile's official recognition of the State of Palestine.

About halfway down the Mount of Olives is the Sanctuary of the Dominus Flevit (Jesus Wept), where Jesus wept over Jerusalem (Luke 19:41), mourning that they misunderstood his message of peace on earth. Behind the altar is a window overlooking the city, where the Dome of the Rock is clearly visible. Wonderful symbolism.

At the bottom of the Mount of Olives, heading right into the Kidron Valley, is the Garden of Gethsemane, and the Basilica of the Agony of the Lord. The olive trees outside the church are estimated to be as old as 2,500 years, which means they very well could have been witnesses to Jesus' suffering in the garden just before being arrested. Right in front of the altar in the church is the stone on which Jesus is said to have laid and wept, asking God for a way out. This is my absolute favorite gospel story, because it shows how human Jesus is.

Tomorrow is the long journey home. More pictures, video, and longer reflections about this pilgrimage will be posted in the coming days and weeks.

Project Israel- Fact Finding

We started out from Bethlehem on Thursday and headed south, stopping first at the town of Hebron. It is the site of the "Tomb of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs", where Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, and Jacob and Leah (Rachel, Jacob's other wife, is in Bethlehem) are said to be buried. It is an interesting place, because there are separate areas for Jews and Muslims, and the tension is palpable. The place is crawling with IDF soldiers, some of them barely old enough to shave. This was the first time I've had a machine gun pointed right at my head as I went through security.

As Christians (and Americans), we were allowed to visit both sections and see all the tombs. Since the Muslim portion is a mosque, our female traveling companions had to have head coverings, and the ones offered at the site were interesting, as you will see below.

 Alison was somehow able to convince me that these are not the droids I'm looking for.

 The shrine over Isaac's tomb. Rebekah's identical one is off to the right.

The shrine over the tomb of Abraham and Sarah.

Next we drove even further south into the Negev region, where we visited a Bedouin village called Alsira (the sign was made by a person who didn't speak English, hence the missing "I") that is not recognized by the Israeli government. It turns out that Israel has restricted the nomadic Bedouins to a rather small parcel of land, very much like a Native American Reservation in the States. A resident named Khalil al Amour gave us a tour and served us a fabulous lunch- the type that is reserved for guests. I always knew that hospitality was a huge part of middle-eastern culture, but we were blown away by how graciously they welcomed us. 

We walked around the village, seeing the solar panels that provide all their power, the water system they built by themselves, and even wireless internet that was faster than at our hotel in Bethlehem! We also saw an old widow's home that had been demolished by the government because of a lack of "proper permits" (the rest of the houses proudly display their official demolition orders). I had heard of the Bedouin before, but I didn't know they still existed and that they, like the Palestinians, have to live with second class or worse status in Israel. The resilience of these people was so inspiring. A longer blog post about our time in Alsira is forthcoming.

Then it was back to Hebron to see the Hebron Glass and Ceramics factory. It's one of the few flourishing industries in Palestine, and the artistry is incredible! The ceramics also had some amusing things painted on them, as you can see below.

We ended the day in West Jerusalem at a Catholic Ecumenical Center named Tantur, where we met with a Avihai Stollat, who works with an organization called Breaking the Silence. This organization collects the stories of former Israeli soliders, like Avihai, who want to make the world aware of what is happening in Palestine. I shot some video of our conversation with him, and I will be posting it very soon. Expect a longer reflection on this conversation to come soon.

I'll try to post an update from today before we leave. We had some powerful experiences in Jerusalem. I'll be back home in about 36 hours. Until next time, Shalom/Salaam!

Project Israel- Bloody Hell!!!

Sorry, folks, but I won't be able to do the standard update today. Our hotel's already poor wireless network is not really working tonight. I'm on the lobby desktop, which is somehow working.

We had some powerful experiences today, including our most intense encounter with the IDF yet (which was, however, nothing compared to what Palestinians experience on a daily basis), a visit to a Bedouin village that is not recognized by the government, and an encounter with a former Israeli soldier who is now part of an organization called "Breaking the Silence". I shot some good video of this last encounter, and it will be up as soon as I can cut the footage together.

Tomorrow is our last full day here, and we will be spending almost all of it in Jerusalem, visiting the Mount of Olives, the Church of the Holy Sepulchure, the Temple Mount/ Harem esh Sharif, and more. We have a very early flight the following morning, so I'll do a post if I get a chance. If not, the rest of the daily updates and followup reflections will all be done stateside.

Until we meet again, dear readers, Shalom/Salaam!