Atomic Peace

A small, small sample of peace

2007-08-24T17:34:00.000-07:00

Here's a story that my mom found and showed to me. I found it so interesting after my to Israel, that I will link it to this blog. A Jewish surfer donated several surf boards to the Palestinians. I know it is very small, but this simple act narrated in the article is what builds peace, slowly but surely. I imagine those people who ride the waves with the surf boards will not be so bitter towards Jews as before.

2007-08-17T09:22:00.000-07:00

I've been going to a new church recently. It is called St. James Urban Presbytarian and it is located in Downtown Denver. My parents met there years ago, but now they stopped attending soon after I was born.

A lot of different kinds of people attend St. James. Many street people, some with long beards, uncombed hair, and an endearing bad teeth smile.

I have started attending here on purpose. I go to school in thes suburbs. I play soccer with the wealthy. So how do I keep in touch with the poor in every sense of the word? I thought to myself, "Maybe I should go to church with them."

Below the room where everyone meets on Sundays is a coffee shop called Network. Many drug addicts, homeless, mentally ill, etc... drop in for some coffee. In better words, many normal people drop in for some coffee. With going to church with these people, I have started to identify with the reality of their plight. However, it is not out of pity. No, for I realize how equally poor and mentally ill I am: I just know how to hide it expertly.

It is compassion, and the recognition that these street people are as complex human beings as you and me, that there is a mind and a heart behind that sign, and more life than we sheltered people (for that's what we are if we have a home) ever give the homeless man credit for.

After wondering and debating about how to show compassion in a Christly way, I have finally found a great way. It is outrageous to most of our groomed minds I know, but I think it is truly the method to be Christ in the US. Here is a link to the site at the Wittenburg Door.

"For I was hungry and you fed me. I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger and you invited me into your home."
Matthew 25:35

Evidence of a Problem

2007-08-06T19:29:00.001-07:00

This morning it was released to the press that the United States has lost track of an exorbitant amount of weapons while in Iraq. Here is the link to the site: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/6932710.stm.

The world needs to get its act together. Yes, as every nation and every human realizes, nuclear weapons are an enormous threat to existence. Nevertheless, the weapons that are killing people by the hundreds of thousands today are not bombs, but the regular gun (90% of civilian casualties are caused by small arms and guns). A simple AK-47 can be wielded by a child and bought for a chicken in parts of Africa (See bottom of page for links to where I get these facts). How do "bad" people get these weapons. Because the United States and the other world powers refuse to acknowledge the enormous violence inflicted by guns made by their own factories. Guns that we make (the United States is the biggest importer and exporter of small arms, I will find the source of this fact) might be used in Sudan, Congo, Uganda, and even by our "enemies in Iraq" as our government calls them. The guns we make are used against us. Ironic justice, for it seems in every crisis the United States faces today, we are the ultimate source of the problem.

On the Side of a Mountain

2007-08-05T20:29:00.000-07:00

Several days ago, I went backpacking with six other people that, excluding my brother, were complete strangers. We went hiking through a mountain forest in the middle of nowhere west of Colorado Springs. It was remarkable spending five whole days with people I never knew before. You learn to get along with everybody very quickly, for a shower is an unavailable convenience and the only lavatory is behind that tree a hundred yards from the group. The accompanying counsellors taught us how to use a compass, backpack, set up shelter, and the basics of survival in the wild with nothing but what you carry on your back.

With no showers, no deodorant, no nice beds or meals, and no toilet paper (the group forget to pack the tp, requiring us to acquire the skill of finding leaves and grass having strategically soft qualities) I felt more human than I have in a long time. I smelled like a human again. It is so cliche, but I was more sensitive to nature. Indeed, experiencing the unrestricted influence of the elements let me experience, too briefly I might add, the mysterious side of God. Think about talking about the unseen parts of God while under the light of the stars twinkling, a sign of their listening. Think about talking about talking about your dreams with another Follower while overlooking a city at night, allowing the wind to whip your back embracing. What profound experiences!

Yet, it was by myself that I was most aware of God and the holiness of the ground. While in Israel, I questioned the idea of a real "holy land" in God's eyes. Surely, all the land, all of his creation is sacred. Yet, when I was placed on the side of a mountain, literally on a cliff, I was sensing an overwhelming movement whispering in my senses. I felt biblical. To describe the event I would write,

"In the evening, after a day's traveling, Adam was led up onto the side of a cliff deep in the mountains. God spoke to him, saying..."

Moses, Elijah, David, and Jesus all found mountains to be a place of refuge and transformation. A reaffimation of their life's mission was found on the side of a mountain. So are mountains holy? I want to say yes. I was comforted while I walked in the land, I was reaffirmed and overwhelmed by the beauty of my surroundings. I spent almost four hours by myself with God and the mountain, reading, praying, meditating. The time was too short. Words grind as I try to articulate what happened. God was not done talking, I would say. That much I know. How encouraging!

So go to the side of a mountain, and just listen. Feel peace again. Be human again.

Right Things

2007-08-05T07:19:00.000-07:00

I was at Celestial Seasonings, a tea factory in Boulder, Colorado, when I discovered a wonderful surprise. One of the trademarks of Celestial Seasonings besides their sensational tea and fantastic box designs, is the remarkable use of famous and profound quotes in the factory. I thoroughly enjoy a good proverb, and I found a multitude at that little factory on Sleepytime Drive. The cream of the crop was a quote by the auspicious Samuel Clemens (aka. Mark Twain),

"Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest."

I value integrity as much as any character trait out there. I strive to be a man of integrity. I seek it ruthlessly in other people so that I may learn from them, imitate. What is integrity? The best definition I have ever heard came from a former teacher whom I deeply respect and hope to reference in my character when I get older. He said integrity was the definition of integrating every aspect of one's life into one solid human being. No stray personalities. No uncontrolled fears or lusts. One human being who is the same no matter what environment or audience surrounds them.

Integrity defines what Twain states here. The right thing, however that abstract principle chooses to be incarnate, is usually the most unpopular and unexpected choice of many. People, especially in our self-seeking culture, are often confused by what the right thing really is. Sometimes it is even ignored. Everybody burns cds, many times illegally. Does that make it right, though it is a common practice? Confusing, I know.

Heck, I am confused too. How does one "get" integrity? What is the right thing to do? Perhaps the key to this whole integrity puzzle is living life serving other people. Living for other people's benefit seems like the right thing, no matter the circumstance. Doing this may surprise, exasperate, and confuse people, and it may cause awkwardness and uncomfortable situations, but is it not worth it to achieve righteousness and integrity?

Summer Reading

2007-07-20T16:15:00.000-07:00

No matter where I am or what season it is, the book I read determines to some degree the way I view the world around me. Perhaps this is the way it is with all people. When a person is reading a book about birds, they would naturally pay more attention to the birds in the vicinity. They will spend brain cells in the tens of thousands pondering birds, flight, and the like. They will notice birds in grammar, advertising, literature, history, and every aspect of life. The topic that person is reading upon effects their entire worldview. This is all assuming the bird book is a good read.

I have read nothing directly concerning birds this summer. However, I have just finished two books that have profoundly influenced my worldview, shaping the way I watch tv, talk to people, even my consciousness. One is a biography, the other is a classic of world literature.

Let the Trumpet Sound: The Life of Martin Luther King Jr. by Stephen B. Oates is an examination of the civil rights leader, non-violent activist, prophet, preacher, theologian, orator, organizer, and human being that was instrumental to redefining freedom, equality, and peace in the American context, but also on a global scale. The book narrates King's life from birth to martyrdom, describing the gargantuan efforts he undertook to allow an opportunity for a free life to exist between both whites and blacks together. I walked through the man's life astounded by his commitment to non-violence, his humble obedience to God's work through his giftings. King had a dream, a different reality he strove for. In the midst of incredible emotion, physical, mental, and spiritual torture by segregationists, McCarthy followers, the FBI (especially the corrupt director, J. Edgar Hoover) and fellow blacks, King spoke into the heart of people to create change. Though the book did not try to hide his mistakes, I am even more astounded by King's work than ever. I highly, highly recommend this biography.

At the same time, I read Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. I marvel at Russian novels. I am moved by Russian writing. It is allowed to be insane in a Russian novel. Insane in love or guilt or nobility. Especially Dostoevsky's works. This was my third work from him (I have read The Idiot and The Brothers Karamazov) and I am still reeling from the psychological and philosophical themes of the story. The main question asked is "Are there some men who are so brilliant, moral laws established before them do not apply, as they are actually the lawmakers?" Another story I ardently recommend.

Read these books.

Pursuit of People

2007-07-19T19:41:00.000-07:00

Myspace.com is a home for those people seeking, finding, and establishing identity. I find immense intrigue in viewing the way people present themselves on the Internet. How does a person describe him/herself through an array of words and images, videos and music? Is this how each individual sees themselves or is this a mirage: a transparent hologram only as thick as my computer screen. Is this personality in front of me real?

People decry myspace, facebook, and blog sites as havens for superficial identity. Or maybe more properly articulated, recreational identity, a place where you can have fun with creating yourself, hopefully for the pleasure of other people.

As much as I have found myself wondering why I created a blog or a myspace as I give myself guilt-trips for selling out to the man, I have found one truth that has made it all worth it.

As I visit my friend's internet identities, I am struck by the surveys, random questionnaires that spring up in the summer when students are sitting at home, bored, lonely, on the computer. These surveys are made up of questions from I don't know wear that ask everything from "What is your favorite color?" to "Have you ever been kissed?" Yes, some of the surveys seem very personal, almost uncomfortably so. I would never ask some of the questions to a persons face that the same person would willingly answer on the internet. Why?

Surveys are not necessarily wrong, as some may wonder to be my opinion judging by the tone of the last paragraph. No, though I find them slightly presumptuous (why do I care when the last time you had ice cream was?), they are highly fascinating and deeply insightful, while guarded and limited at the same time. I always see deeper, more secret stories lurking beneath one-word answers, dying and fearing to be revealed at the same time.

Just look into the eyes. Stare at them, gaze, find the want, the need for help, for a hand. I love eyes. They tell so much about a person. There is weather in the eyes . Pupils cloud over as dreary skies, become dark as the night, light up, shine as the sun, cry as the rain, close as the dusk. Look into they eyes of another human. There is the real story. Sure, you will find no details, but you can find a heck of a lot more in a person's eyes than in a survey. People are desperately reaching out for an ear to listen. This is the truth that has dawned on me. Humans want to be pursued. They want to be understood, trusted, liked, loved, embraced, kissed, comforted, encouraged, rescued from hurt, and pursued all along the way

Perhaps that is why I write this. I want to be pursued. I especially want to be loved. I want people to say, "Gosh, Adam, you are a great writer" or "I took a lot out of what you said". Selfish, I know.

So I desire attention. Everyone I know, know matter how shy, is desiring this consideration. We are dying for it. Acceptance, grace for wrong stuff in our life.

But I should give more than recieve, right? How? How do I give more of this pursuance out? I don't want my writing to be selfishly motivated at all. I want to reach out to other humans. People are slipping away. I want to grab their hand and hold on.

How do I do this through myspace or email? Can words, as well crafted they can appear sometimes, really do any of this? I certainly hope so.

My hope lies in a question, actually two. My first, would Jesus have a myspace or a blog if he lived in today's culture? What would it look like?

What do you think? I'll give my answer in a few days.

The Count's World

2007-07-01T05:22:00.001-07:00

As the spirit of July the Fourth descends upon the United States, I reflect upon my allegiance to a country whose ethics, morals, and even foundation clash with the way I see the world. I worship a global God. One who has homes all over the world, whom He is blessing every day. The United States, while having an incredibly captivating history, is only one nation among many in God's eyes.

When I was reading The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas last year, I found the following to be a summary for what it means to be a follower of Christ in a holistic and integrated way, without bowing before earthly thrones. The setting takes place in the regal home of Monsieur de Villefort, a sworn enemy of The Count of Monte Cristo who vies to avenge himself of the injustices suffered at this crown prosecutors hands. Yet Villefort knows nothing of the man whom he is dining with, especially the dark role in which he himself played in the Count's life. In an ominous scene, The Count skillfully explains the flaws rather as a fencer makes his thrusts in Villefort's ideology. Indeed the title of the forty-eight chapter is Ideology.

"The kingdom of kings are confined, either by mountains or rivers, or by a change in customs or by a difference in language; but my kingdom is as great as the world, because I am neither Italian, nor French, nor American, nor a Spaniard; I am a cosmopolitan. No country can claim to be my birthplace. God alone knows in what region I shall die. I adopt every custom, I speak every tongue...In this way you see, being of no country, asking for the protection of no government and acknowledging no man as my brother, I am not restrained or hampered by a single one of the scruples that tie the hands of the powerful or the obstacles that block the path of the weak."

I find in this passage the way I see Christ would live in this world today. Under no government, operating with no allegiances toward any nation, but blending in among the many considering every man as a brother, every woman as a sister. I find my mission statement for travel right here. I read this in New Zealand, away from the US bubble, and it changed me, awakened me.

It is true that I can attribute a good portion of my thirst to travel, my hunger for language, my interest in culture specifically to the figure of The Count. Simply because he is way cool. A man of mystery, of calm and controlled disposition, he is called the Noble Foreigner by many when he returns to Western Civilization. He is fluent in several languages, he is as well-read as any scholar. He can go anywhere in the world, and feel at ease, inviting experience to dine with him. As I read the book, I received the same feeling I usually reserve for a superhero. But no, this is simply a mortal man, albeit one who has become so well-traveled, so well-seasoned to the ways and customs of people, he can wield a power that truly no king can wield if he does not leave his kingdom. And that power is the allegiance, not to a government, but to a life of understanding, and in my case, a life of love.

I adamantly recommend reading The Count of Monte Cristo completely in its pure, unabridged form. Don't be scared by the page number. Once one gets into a classic such as this, there is nothing so powerful in the literary world.

A Declaration Concerned With War

2007-06-29T16:29:00.000-07:00

In a culture desensitized to hurt, I find my community to be oblivious to the horrible significance of every act of violence. I define my community as my country, my state, my church, my friends. Violence, especially warfare, is perceived as a necessity to dethrone the powers deemed "evil," by most in my community.

I, on ethical and Spiritual grounds, declare that it is war that is unintelligent, un-creative, ignorant, and evil.

To sum up the ethical side, I invoke the words of Gandhi. "The roots of violence: wealth without work. Pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morality, science without humanity, worship without sacrifice, politics without principles."

Violence is the death of story. Indeed, it produces wonderful heroes, it creates epics, and amazing literature. But the price of lives to obtain these stories is not worth it. Fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, sons, daughters die in war. That is the end of that human being's story. Uncreative. Imagine the experiences if they had lived!

I find that I cannot separate myself from anyone in this world. I am the best of people, and the worst. I am Gandhi. I am the rapist on TV. I am Mother Teresa. I am the suicide bomber. To say that I am incapable of doing any of those things, good or bad, is denying that I am human. Therefore, when I hurt another human being, I am hurting myself. And I find that I also hurt God and His creation. Therefore, I need Someone to reconcile me, for I am inherantly violent because I am a fallen human.

I am solved, for I am a follower of Christ, and His Way of peace and love. I am allowed to be removed from the sins I commit past, present, future, and the sins I could have commited so that I may show others that same peace, that same love. I find numerous teachings of that love ignored by the masses of Christians. The Sermon on the Mount is to be taken literally, not as a group of suggestions. The words are a code, not a bunch of guidelines. Jesus says, Love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! He is not joking, or advising. How does war fit into these words?

I also see Jesus' life and crucifixion as the ultimate example of love and peace. The Jews, his people are brutally oppressed by Rome, and He has the power to end the Empire instantly. Instead, he tells his people to love, to be meek, peacekeepers, to be righteous. He had every right to go to war for his people, and he did not. Concerning His crucifixion, while any act of violence is an act of power, Jesus sacrificed himself purely powerless. With the control of the cosmos in the palm of His hand, with the armies of angels at His command, he chose not to defend himself, not to save himself, but to be killed for the people he loved. How is war, any violence, qualifed by a God who refuses to use it when He is dying.

I subscribe to the life of Jesus, the one in which he calls all of us.

I am a young man who believes in creative, militant nonviolence. I do not enjoy the sound, nor the tone people use when they call me a pacifist. I am not passive. A bystander who does nothing to prevent the outrageous injustices of this broken world is as guilty as the actions of the perpetrator of the injustice.

Instead, I ally myself with the life and works of Cesar Chavez, Martin Luther King Jr., Gandhi, and Jesus and their revolutions of peace. I seek every opportunity to show that I am my fellow human's brother. Even if it must mean looking them in the eye silently, even when they insult and beat and hurt me.

People often ask what I hold as absolute truth. Jesus, I say. That means Love, and Peace. That means I am against death, in all forms. AMEN.

Who am I Kidding?

2007-06-27T03:33:00.000-07:00

Who am I kidding? I'm no expert in middle east studies. I've only read a book and experienced a small peek into one situation. Who am I to lecture you about the issues. I saw what I saw. I heard what I heard. I thought what I thought. I felt what I felt. Now I feel what I feel.

On the first day of our trip, we spent our jetlagged energy on a tour around old city Jerusalem. We saw many of the sites where scholars guess where Jesus spent his time. Churches are everywhere. Scholars think they know where Jesus was crucified and buried. You wouldn't recognize it today with the elaborate, gargantuan Church of the Holy Sepulcher sitting right on top of it. We saw the Wailing Wall. This is the most holy place for Jews, as it is the last remnant of the old temple that Herod built in Jesus' days. A very spiritual atmosphere surrounds that small area, not only from the wall, but the Dome of the Rock that sits on top of it. The most spectacular building in all of Jerusalem, the Dome of the Rock is an Islamic landmark where Mohammed ascended and "leapt" to Mecca. With these two holy sites, commemorating two distinctly different religions in conflict, the area has a very frustrated aire to it. As my dad says, if something bad ever happens to that area, it is World War III.

That night we met with a group of men, one Israeli, two Palestinian, who have lost family members to the violence in Israel, but have found a way to reconcile with each other in the middle of it. Remarkable, what God has done in these men, especially considering they are not "Christians" from a traditional perspective.

Probably the most direct assault upon our hearts and conscience was our time at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum. If there is a psychological reason Israel is oppressing Palestine, it can be found here. You know the story, I know the story, but we cannot understand the magnitude of the event for the Jewish race. What sadness is this that iI can't comprehend!!!

Most of our time in Jerusalem was sort of a sight-seeing/buildup to the rest of the trip. I find it surreal when I look back, wondering how holy God looks at the buildings humankind has erected to remember him. Are these sites any more holy than the mountains of Colorado?

The central time of our trip was the time we spent in Bethlehem. Far and away, it was the most intense and relational aspect of the trip. And no wonder! We were in the West Bank! We saw the security wall separating Israel and Palestine. We saw the poverty that grips the refugee camps in a tight fist. We saw the judicious and intimidating power of checkpoints, a power to divide the Palestinian people. We saw the slow encroachment of Israeli colonies populating a land slowly taking the resources from the native villages.

One of the most significant days, if not the most significant, was the day we went to the Dead Sea with a Palestinian youth group. I have already related part of the experience in a previous blog, but I cannot get over this experience. Faces bring humanity. Personal stories bring the reality that these are people, with emotions and thoughts and dreams and fears like me. I can build no wall between them and me, for they are doubly my brothers. On one level they are my siblings in humanity, but on a second they are my brothers and sisters in Christ. I cannot and should not forget them.

Our time in Bethlehem was too brief. We got in, we got out, then we got on with life. Even though we didn't want to. The last place we stayed in was completely different than Bethlehem. We hoteled in a resort in the Galilee. Yes, that Galilee. More sight-seeing, including the location of the Sermon on the Mount and Nazareth, but our time in Galilee was a time of much needed processing. Compared to the eventful (an understatement) nature of our time in Jerusalem and Bethlehem. The time in Galilee was fairly relaxed. We did not do as much, and I believe it was intended that way. We desperately needed to talk about what we experienced, and we did, though not as much as I hoped.

The final night and morning brought a fitting juxtaposition to end the trip. A Orthodox Jew spoke to us about the mindset of the Israelis, at least through the eyes of a religious Israeli. This speaker was sorely needed by our group, for we had not met an Israeli who could give their side of the story in a well-articulated, thought provoking dialogue. It brought a little bit more balance to the trip.

The morning before we left, a man who lives in the Gaza Strip discussed the situation there. To explain: the Palestinians inhabit two territories inside Israel--the West Bank (ironically in in eastern Israel) and the much smaller Gaza Strip. Although the issues are the same for both territories, the injustices have different faces. The West Bank is a land held captive by Israel, with the purpose of slowly forcing Palestinians out. Israel wants the West Bank. Israel really does not want the Gaza Strip. Over 1.5 million people live in Gaza, a land that is so small. We were told the Gaza Strip was the most densely populated place in the world. And while imprisonment is again the issue, this time it is a radical imprisonment. Think a zoo. More on that later.

The man that spoke might have been the highlight of my trip. We left that evening with more stories to tell than fit in one blog, and emotions than we know how to deal with.

I am overwhelmed right now. I am heart-broken with the situation in Israel. But I hear horror stories in Africa, too. And the sex-slavery in Asia. Where does the injustice end? Where can we find peace in this world? Where can I go where my heart doesn't break?

Simplistic Summary: Part One--Old Israel

2007-06-22T15:21:00.000-07:00

To the right is a picture of the Western Wall and in the backdrop the Dome of the Rock. The Western Wall (also called Wailing Wall) is the west side of the retaining wall that has lasted since the days of the second temple that Herod built. This wall existed in Jesus' days.

Anyways, I personally have found it necessary to know the history of Israel in order to understand the grounds for the conflict in the Middle East today. All three religions involved--Christianity, Islam, and Judaism-- refer to Abraham in some way as a father figure. So that is where many have found the first seed of the conflict.

Here is how the story goes. Abram of Ur (Iraq) senses this strange God telling him to leave his native country, his familiar environment in order to wander to a distant land God is promising him. He is promised to have as many descendants as the stars in the sky or as many as the grains of sand on the beach. We find God to be a Poet. God tells him:

I will bless those who bless you and curse those who treat you with contempt. All the families on earth will be blessed through you. (Gen.12.3)

This statement is crucial to understanding Jewish theology. Israelites always believed that they were God’s chosen people. This theology has not been lost, for the Orthodox Jew population maintain an attitude of “chosen among the races.”

Abram, who became Abraham, had two sons mentioned in detail in the Bible, Ishmael and Isaac. Ishmael was the son of Abraham and his concubine, Hagar, while Isaac was the miraculous son of Abraham and his barren wife Sarah. Though Ishmael was the first-born, he and his mother were banished from Abraham’s family to die in the wilderness. This was the will of Abraham’s wife, Sarah, who desired Abraham’s inheritance to go to Isaac.

Ishmael and Hagar were abandoned to die, but God kept them alive, promising Ishmael many descendants. Traditionally, Arabs trace their heritage to Abraham through Ishmael. Muslims call Ishmael a prophet. One more interesting note, Ishmael means “God hears.”

The inheritance of Abraham went to Isaac then through to Jacob and his twelve sons. The twelve sons of Jacob, who was renamed Israel, became the twelve tribes of Israel. The family of Israel became the nation of Israel (Genesis). The nation went through four hundred years of slavery then forty years of wanderings (Exodus) before Joshua, the new leader of Israel, was told by God to conquer the peoples of Canaan and populate the land themselves. Their success fulfilled God’s covenant with Abraham. A few hundred years later, in 970 BC, King Solomon stretches the land of Israel farther than it ever was or has ever been since. The reign of King Solomon and his father King David are considered the most glorious times of the history of the Jews (2 Samuel, 1 Kings).

After the death of Solomon, lack of strong leadership, as well as disobedience to God led to the division of Israel through civil war. Israel to the North, Judah to the South. The Assyrian Empire conquered Israel in 722 BC, not only destroying the cities, but forcing the Israelites to scatter, losing every remnant of their culture. This is why citizens of Israel are called Israelis, not Israelites. There is no such thing as an Israelite today because of this event.

However, the people of Judah were able to retain their cultural uniqueness during captivity under Assyria, Babylon, Macedonia, Rome, the Mameluke Empire, the Ottoman Empire, and British occupation, before finally obtaining land in 1948. Truly amazing, huh?

Their story can be found in the Old Testament of the Bible. If you have not read their history, I thoroughly recommend it. There is enough material in the story of Israel to make hundreds of movies. Literally. The sub-plots intertwine constantly, a large reason why the conflict today is so complicated. It was never simple for Israel or for the Middle East in general.

Simplistic Summary:Introduction

2007-06-16T15:36:00.000-07:00

After a few days to process the whirlwind of experiences I have had on the Israel/Palestine trip, I feel I can begin to give a summary of what I learned. The whole purpose of the journey into Israel was to understand the ongoing conflict between the Israelis and the Palestinians. Yes, the conflict is political and religious. But it is a cultural and relational conflict as well. These are real people, with real stories, and they are fighting.

WHY?

The next few posts can be read individually, yet the story will make much more sense if read as a cohesive unit. As a warning, it must be expressed that this is a harshly simplistic summary of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Almost criminal. However, the story must be told, even if it is abridged. Also remember, this is a history essay from what I have heard, read, and seen so far. I might be wrong in a few places, so please tell me if I am. This is not a research paper, so I will not go to painstaking efforts to cite some things, not because I intend to plagiarize, but because I simply do not know where I received all of my information. More of it I have simply absorbed through osmosis, or on this last journey to Israel. Any questions, please ask: I would enjoy talking anytime.

A Frustration

2007-06-14T15:16:00.000-07:00

A most difficult lesson I had to learn as I was in Israel was my utterly ignorant powerlessness. Western Culture, guy culture, my culture says that if there is a problem you go and fix it ASAP. You can't do that with poverty. You can't do that in Israel/Palestine. Especially as an outsider. No species of duct tape can tear down the security wall that divides the land with a scar.

Entering deeper and deeper into the cave of the conflict, I realized that I could do nothing to help the situation in the context I was in. I had no flashlight and my eyes were not adjusted to see through the darkness. How can you help people out of the cave if I cannot see myself.* If I tried I would end up stumbling on top of people. How helpless! For them and for me! When a human desires to help his brother or sister but cannot considering circumstances, what frustration can be worse? Several times our group walked by a few old women sitting on the side of the road holding out their hand, muttering for a spare shekel. Our group was in the middle of an ambitious tour around Jerusalem, so I guess there was no time. Yet how much would it have done for one of those women if someone would have reached out and held their hand, looked into their experienced eyes, and just suggested the celestial love of Our Father. Language need not intrude upon that moment. Nor does ethnicity or age.

Another time, some school kids were playing futbol in a Palestinian refugee camp in Bethlehem. Playing futbol with kids from anywhere in the world is my dream; I envision myself running barefoot in the African bush country, enjoying the Beautiful Game with my brothers and sisters on nothing but dirt. The ruthlessness of my want to play with those kids in the refugee camp went unfulfilled. I had to follow the tour. I was pissed.

My anger was one step in a gradual realization of my weakness, my inability to fix and help. When you see such oppression, action is a natural reaction. It is an emotional reaction, blind, but powerful. Yet I realized (and I am still realizing) that the best way I can aid these people is to understand them, listen to them, simply notice them, acknowledge that I am no better than any person living in poverty. Very important. Then, once educated and experienced, perhaps God can use me in a larger context.

I made a Palestinian friend in the West Bank. His name is Jamil, which means "beautiful" in Arabic. He is in his first year as a Business major at Bethlehem College, and wants to come to the US. I have his email address and he has mine. We spent the whole day together, with our group and a Palestinian youth group all in the same bus. We connected, and he will remember me as I will remember him. Relationship.

*See The Republic by Plato

A Surreal Return

2007-06-13T07:51:00.000-07:00

We spent ten days in Israel. We saw the sights, we took pictures, we swam, we wrote, we read, we walked, we listened, we listened, we listened, we watched, then we talked. Three days in Jerusalem, three days in Bethlehem, three days in the Galilee region, and a day on the outskirts of Tel Aviv. When I say "we" I refer to the group I went with. The group included my dad, eight other people from my school, a family from Texas and a team from England. Twenty-Two people in all, experiencing the wild extremes of poverty and wealth in the "holy land."

I am still recovering from the trip. I am tired, I am angered, I am depressed, I am confused, I am saddened. How can I begin to relate the complexity of Israel's oppression, apartheid of the Palestinians? How can I express my own feeling of powerlessness? What really happened in the last ten days?

To me, everything and nothing. I accidentally formatted my camera's memory card. For those of you who don't know what formatting is, it means I erased all of my pictures from the entire trip. On the last day. No way to retrieve those. The picture above is my dad's.

Then, on the flight home, I left my journal in the nefarious pocket on the back of the seat in front of me. This journal has all of my thoughts from not only Israel, but my thoughts and feelings when I was in New Zealand. Devastating, really. I have a few gifts, a few poems, but I have lost a lot of evidence of the last ten days. I am attempting to find the journal, but it is unlikely that it will be returned.

Yet I have experienced so much, so much memory has been placed in my mind. How can I reconcile the wild experience I had in Israel and the West Bank while being forced back into the redundancy of life here with almost nothing physical to show for it!?

A Now Future

2007-05-31T06:40:00.000-07:00

I will be leaving Denver today at approximately 3:15 PM Mountain Time. And--Lord Willing--I will travel with my group to Atlanta, and then to Tel Aviv, Israel. Thus, we will begin our Journey of Understanding (see my previous blog for an explanation).

I anticipate the next ten days to be a whirlwind of activity, intensity, deep learning, soul-searching, discomfort, and memories. As I write this, I am not completely packed, though I have the list all checked off. All of this is so surreal.

For weeks, I have glanced into the future, eyeing the upcoming trip into Israel/Palestine. For weeks I have learned the foundation of the conflict there. The foundation is Cerberean; each head of the conflict (Religious, Historical, Cultural) is connected at the shoulders, but lives with its own ferocity. I was mindful of the people in Israel, though I hadn't met them yet. Especially after I read a book about the Israeli and Palestinian church by Brother Andrew called Light Force. It has been a gradual education, with none coming from experience, until now.

As I looked into the future, I always snapped myself back into the present, for I still had homework, and the musical, and soccer, and baseball. One by one each of those activities was completed. I have arrived at the event I have been planning and fundraising for six months. The future is now.

I felt the same before the New Zealand trip. Is this really happening? What is God going to do? How are my expectations going to be shattered? What are we going to learn about people? How are we going to change? What stories am I going to have? I have all these, and I may still have these questions when I return. Thank you for listening, and pray for us.

Forgetful me

2007-05-30T14:14:00.000-07:00

I am currently reading The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne. It is waking me up.

Caring for the marginalized, the lesser, the wronged in any circumstance comes innate to me. Some of this comes from my days in elementary school when I got picked on, some of it comes from the incessant repetition of losing soccer seasons. Sounds weak, but I know that identification with the oppressed is a unique theme in my life. I forget this theme sometimes because

1. I am a broken human being.

2. I am wealthy compared to the rest of the world

3. I go to school in a wealthy neighborhood with economically well-off students.

So I am naturally insulated from the poor. A bad thing if I dare call myself a "Christian."

The Irresistible Revolution has convicted, and then reinvigorated me to pursue the "least of these" in Denver, when I go to Israel, and then beyond until the end of my days. That is why for this month's quote, I choose a statement not written by Claiborne himself, but one that he referenced in his book.

"The true atheist is the one who denies God's image in the least of these."

-Dorothy Day

Forgets could be placed instead of denies. We must always remember the way Christ lived his life, if we are going to live in such a materialistic, sterilized culture. If we remember Jesus, we are bound to remember the poor.

How do I write?

2007-05-30T13:31:00.001-07:00

I will be honest, I don't actually know what to write sometimes on these blogs. I feel torn between writing emotive essays off the cuff, or placing a lot of time and energy to craft every blog. On one hand, I feel self-centered and solipsistic if I continue to write just about myself all the time. Yet if I place so much energy, so much consciousness into every essay, will it be real. Will it reflect who I am? So I think I am going to begin putting in entries that I have already written in a journal that I own. I used this journal when I spent six months in New Zealand, I wrote in it when I got back, and I intend to put it to good use during the Israel trip. The essays in there are raw, honest outpourings of my spirit. Some is written in poetry, some in prose.

Now for anyone who is wondering if I'm going to write with less emotion now in my journal, I do admit that I am not putting everything from my journal onto here. Therefore, my journal will maintain an authentic essence, while my blog will still reflect a summary of my feelings, insights, prayers etc... Please feel free to comment on anything.

Small Arms Trafficking

2007-05-12T06:16:00.000-07:00

I've included a link on the bottom of the blog that leads to sites concerning the illicit trafficking of small arms. I encourage a visitation by one and all.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a research paper that delved into some of the grim facts of the small arms trade. By the way, a small arm is not a miniature limb, but is defined as a weapon that can be used by one or two people or mounted on a vehicle. The easy accessibility of weapons like this, plus the explosion of globalization in the last fifteen or so years has quickly distributed lethal weapons all over the globe with little to none international tracking efforts. It is the AK-47s that are used by children in the ethnic cleansings in Africa, it is those small rockets and bazookas used in the Middle East by Jihadist groups. One site calls them the real Weapons of Mass Destruction.

What makes all of this even more unjust, is the level of media the United States has given to this problem: nothing. While I was researching on the Internet, I found nothing in the major magazine or television archives concerning the black market trade of small arms. Granted, I didn't pay the money to become a member of the archive club, and thus have access to everything, but if an issue like this was considered with authentic and deserved importance, I wouldn't need to pay that money.

Now I desire to avoid the ridiculous nature of a conspiracy theorist, but this lack of attention to this issue is startling, especially when the statistics show that the US is one of the main importers and exporters of light weapons. The United States must lead the way in organizing and limiting trade of small arms. The only way we can stem this quiet crisis is to get educated. Otherwise, we create our own problem through the continued distribution of small arms and weapons.

An inspired inkling

2007-05-03T15:34:00.001-07:00

A discovery of the enormous breadth contained in the human experience is a staggering event, but is only part of the journey to discover humility in the midst of the human experience. For in the revelation of our own insignificance to the revolution of Earth, we find incalculable grace in the Author who dares to recognize each of us as individual characters in His Story, and the indescribable love He expresses when He empowers us to become significant again together.

Dead Men Whisper

2007-05-01T17:52:00.000-07:00

I just added a new feature on my blog obviously called "Quote of the Month". I am one of those people completely intrigued in the power of a single quote. There must be something remarkable in a masterfully assembled sentence that makes people remember it.

Just as the title says, the quote will be changed monthly, each one attempting to summon a thought, any inkling of depth, into the minds of the reader. If you wish to see a quote from a month past, simply click on "Quotes" in the blog archive and all my postings concerning the quote and my thoughts upon it can be found. Usually, the quote has come from a book I have read, as does the first "quote of the month." Charles Dickens wrote the following in his emotionally prisoning story, Oliver Twist:

"If we heard but one instant in imagination the deep testimony of dead men's voices, which no power can stifle and no pride shut out, where would be the injury and injustice, the suffering, misery, cruelty, and wrong, that each day's life brings with it?"

Oliver Twist is merciless to the mood. Charles Dickens placed perfect injustice (what a sick oxymoron) upon the poor orphan Oliver, and let the reader follow along, helplessly wallowing in misery. I see this selection as a hope for eventual justice, a want for better understanding.

Dickens himself was a consistent humanitarian, determined to improve the social conditions of London in the nineteenth century (Learning this fact while on a Dickens tour in London motivated me to read Oliver Twist). A deep theme in each story he writes is the unlimited power of redemption. Almost no other author I know has come up with such beautiful portraits of good arising out of evil circumstances.

So take that, all you Dickens haters.

A Journey of Understanding

2007-04-30T18:02:00.000-07:00

It seems a good of time as any to explain my coming journey, my coming exploration in shalom.

On 31 May, I will leave the United States with a group from my school, and fly out to Tel Aviv, Israel to kick off a trip called a "Journey of Understanding." For the next eleven days we, will learn about the issues surrounding the Israel/Palestine conflict. Complexity is an understatement when it comes to the issue in the Middle East. Culture, politics, history, and religion are all inseparably significant players in the crisis. We will not go to be recreational tourists thirsty for entertainment. Instead, we hope to be humble learners, students of culture.

I admit, I already have a few biases. These I have formed separate from the rest of the group (except for my dad, who is also in the group and shares similar, albeit better informed views than I). From the stories I've heard, the newspaper articles I've read, and the testimonies of a few of my friends who have already been to Israel on previous Journeys of Understanding, I have garnered a basic, theoretical knowledge of the issues based upon common themes among the sources. Though the opinions differ somewhat account to account, a pattern has brought the consensus to agreement on one point in particular: The Palestinians are oppressed by Israel, a nation supported financially by the US.

As a follower of the Christ, I cannot possibly take the side of the oppressor, even if it be Israel and--indirectly--the US. Therefore, I will arrive in Israel partial towards the Palestinians, especially towards my brothers and sisters.

Is it good to arrive on the ground with a preconception such as this, even though I think I am right?

Shalom

2007-04-25T17:07:00.000-07:00

Everyday, the English language is spoken in thousands of different dialects through hundreds of different forms, from text-messaging to formal speeches. A language of business, English can be quite articulate in financial transactions. However, English like any other language has its limitations.

Many of you may know some of these. There are four different ways to say the word love in Greek, and they all have different connotations.

eros (romantic)

storge (family affection)

philia (friendship)

agape (unconditional)

---CS Lewis The Four Loves

In English, a person may say "I love you" with such powerful emotion and conviction, then, five minutes later, say "I love pizza". Is that person using the word love the same way? I sure hope not! No wonder English-speakers are so emotionally confused!

I think the word peace is the same way. Not that it is used ridiculously out-of-context to the same degree as love, but English cannot grasp peace deep enough.

In Hebrew, the word shalom is used instead (In Arabic it is salaam). Again, maybe many of you have heard this word before. But shalom was used as a greeting and a goodbye, meaning the whole phrase, "May peace be with you".

In every aspect of life. Shalom in every part of yourself, external and internal. It is a complete peace, a deeper interpretation. Nothing is left out. "May peace be with you, stand beside you, reside within you, motivate all your actions."

Recently, I've begun thinking about far this may go. Modern science is beginning to find a huge connection between the cells, molecules, and atoms that reside in and around us, to the thoughts and emotions we think and feel. Literally, what happens at the atomic, and sub-atomic level effects everything else.

What happens if shalom is brought to the minuscule parts of life? Will the small change effect a big change?

I am a small person in a big world. I have a hard time finding my place sometimes. This world is so large, and cares so little about me. I am one atom in a sea of many. I am running around, reacting, changing, bonding, charging, separating, building, deconstructing my world, trying to give it shalom, when it seems to be going haywire.

But I am only atom. I guess I need peace, too. If I want this living organism called Earth to be one of shalom, I need to find it in myself first. English cannot grasp how hard this is sometimes. That is why I hope this blog, with its trendy, clever name, might help me find it.

Introducing myself to Peace

2007-04-24T15:57:00.000-07:00

The LORD replies, 'I have seen violence done to the helpless, and I have heard the groans of the poor. Now I will rise up to rescue them, as they have longed for me to do.'

-Psalm 12:5

I thought I would start out this electronic journal with a verse that has crept upon me, grabbing my heart, and invigorating me.

God is active. He brings peace. A peace that is so complete and so alive, simple words cannot describe it. No one is left out, even the criminal, the helpless, the poor, the ill, the depressed, the worst men and women on earth.

I forget this sometimes. I stress. I lose peace within myself. But if I hope to spread that God peace to this wretched world, mustn't I first allow that same God peace into my wretched self?

This journal will, hopefully, be the narration and dialogue of a journey into peace, an ambiguous word usually reserved for Hallmark cards. But peace has power, especially when it walks with love. See the examples of MLK, Cesar Chavez, Gandhi, and most of all, Jesus.

So I invite you to come with me on this walk , for I'm sure you might have some insights, something you have seen in the scenery that I have missed. Be sure to grab your walking sticks.