To the Beloved Community Toward Which We are Called

As I prepared myself to join Palestinian activists in a demonstration in Hebron, I spent time in prayer and meditation, starting by reading in my daily devotional booklet. The verse of the day and the accompanying word and thought seemed so appropriate:

My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power.—1 Corinthians 2:4, and "Faith...Through the indwelling power of faith, I move forward with conviction."

For the past several years, the organization Youth Against Settlements has organized actions and activities at this time of year as part of the Open Shuhada Street campaign. It is part remembrance of the atrocious massacre within the Ibrahimi Mosque by the American-Israeli perpetrator Baruch Goldstein on February 25, 1994 and part display of nonviolent resistance to the ongoing apartheid and increasing displacement of Palestinians by settlers, aided and abetted by the Israeli Occupation Forces. I use this term rather than what Israel calls its military, the “Israeli Defense Forces”, because of the incredible power imbalance.

No country who is backed by the United States to the tune of over $10 million per day can say its forces are simply defending itself over people whose weapons are generally only stones.

I use the term “apartheid” very intentionally as well. When one ethnic group is barred from even walking on what was once the main street of their town but others are allowed to do so and can even drive down that same street, I don't know what else to call it.

The demonstration, a march into the militarized part of Hebron where expanded Israeli settlements are expected, was just a part of the resistance activities. In the same area last night, children potted up plants to represent hope being rooted in the soil and girls danced the traditional dabke, showing that the spirit of Palestinians will not be broken but be carried on by the next generation in their struggle for freedom and justice.

The weather was thankfully a bit warmer than recent days so I was both relieved and eager to participate in solidarity with the people who have been so hospitable to our delegation for these first several days of our trip. I was a bit surprised when a group of Orthodox Jewish men, clothed in religious garb, came with signs denouncing the State of Israel and issued a statement for the press corps. I remembered studying about this sect who, as I understand, believe that only the Messiah, not humans, can establish Israel, in accordance with God's laws.

The assembled group of Palestinian activists, Orthodox Jews, international participants/observers, and the international press corps made its way down the street with the boom-boom-boom of a bass drum beat provided by a 16 year old Palestinian boy and the protest shouts led through a megaphone. Some of us joined in the shouts and carried Palestinian flags and others documented the action.

A member of our group asked me on video why I was participating. Trying to be articulate and to the point, I responded with what felt to be a rather pat statement about solidarity to fight injustice supported by my US tax dollars and then something about being against American values.

As soon as that bit about American values came out of my mouth, I felt an unease. American values...? What's that supposed to mean...? The values of a country that separates families at its borders, perpetuates racial inequities in its criminal justice system, and cultivates consumerism, just to name a few of its disgraceful aspects?

Realizing I didn't really mean what I had just said, I immediately pivoted to say that the occupation and apartheid was against my personal values.

The march continued until it reached a place where Palestinian shops are under the gaze of the abutting Israeli military base, next to the illegal Israeli settlement Beit Romano. The Israeli government has planned to expand this settlement by spending almost $6 million for housing and other amenities for 31 Israeli settler families to move into the space currently occupied by the military.

I don't like to describe the settlers as Jewish, though they identify as such, because I don't think their actions reflect what I would consider the essence of Judaism's concept Tikkun Olam, the repairing of the world. I think the harassment and abuse that Israeli settlers in this area of Hebron regularly direct toward Palestinians to be the exact opposite.

Now situated in the crosshairs of soldiers, including those stationed in the upstairs windows of what had been a Palestinian women's cooperative, the demonstration continued with chants and a speech by the lead organizer. Then, being midday, there was the call to prayer.

The signs that had been carried now became makeshift prayer rugs. As the prayers were intoned by a leader, rows of men knelt in prayer. There was a moment of silence that took me by surprise. I felt as if time stopped and all the horrors and strife of the world ceased, giving a glimpse of peace and wholeness, what some might say of God's kingdom (or 'kindom').

As the melodious prayers resumed, I was reminded of my morning devotion and its message of how the indwelling power of Spirit moves us to act with conviction.

While the men knelt in a posture of submission to God's will, I stood with hands open in a posture of receptivity to the power of love, beauty, and awesomeness that I believe is God, or rather what derives from God.

My reason for participating in the demonstration was not just what I had said in the brief interview, not even the part about my personal values; it was because I believe that God is working through me and the other participants to witness, through nonviolent action, to the beloved community toward which we are called.