A World Apart

I have been to Israel several times. Each time I have learned something new. When I was an undergraduate, it was my first truly international experience. This most recent trip, however, provided a different experience and a new learning experience for me.

In the middle of the trip, we began our trip down the Jordan Valley, and we had two nights in pretty isolated areas. We spent the night on a hill overlooking the Dead Sea and in the desert on the Bedouin experience. Following these two nights incommunicado, we drove into Bethlehem to see Herodium and the Church of the Nativity which commemorates the place of the birth of the Prince of Peace.

As we drove into Bethlehem, I noticed things were different. Everything was closed. On a Friday, it wouldn't be unusual for a number of shops to be closed, but everything? My bus driver made some calls and determined that all the shops were closed as part of a protest. Four Palestinian men had been identified as terrorists by the IDF (Israeli Defense Force). The IDF sent in an undercover agent who killed all four men in Bethlehem. As we got out of the bus and walked to Manger Square to the Church of the Nativity, we began to see the crowds gathering. We watched a young Palestinian boy (10 or 11 years old) so full of rage that he began to throw rocks at a Palestinian policemen. Across the street from the Church of the Nativity was what looked like a rally of a couple of thousand people (we later found out that the bodies of the four men were in the tent—it wasn't exactly a rally). Inside the church, we found ourselves in the middle of two separate Arab Christian memorial services for these men and the political situation—illustrating just how complicated the Middle Eastern situation is.

I don't believe that we were ever in any danger. We were nervous, and the situation was very uncomfortable. Afterward, when we were back on the bus, it was very quiet. Each of us was left to our thoughts as we were going through the checkpoint. Some were journaling. Some were crying. But, everyone's heart was breaking for the people of Palestine and Israel. We understood why the IDF did what they did. We also understood why the people of Bethlehem would feel singled out by Israel. And, we understood (and commended) those Palestinian Christians who were able have a service in which they would pray for their enemies—however they defined them. Most of all, I think each of us understood the tragic nature of the land called holy by so many.

In Jericho, several Palestinians said to each of us, "Please tell the people of America we want peace. Please don't let a few radicals make them think we are all like that." One man whose words will stay with me for a long time said, "How many fingers do you have?" I replied, "Five." Showing me his hand, he said, "Same as me. Please tell them we want peace. We need peace." In Bethlehem we saw just how hard it is to live without peace. I, for one, will never be the same for the experience.

Though I was grateful that the students truly did gain intercultural competency as a result of turmoil in Bethlehem, there was still a part of me that felt guilty. I know some of the students were scared. I told myself, if we hadn't been in the desert the night before, I might have seen the news on the internet and avoided Bethlehem. I felt guilty all the way to the hotel in Jerusalem thinking that my poor planning (putting Bethlehem, which has the potential for difficulties, after the two nights away from news) led to an uncomfortable situation for the students.

Then, something happened that placed an exclamation point on this experience for me. I got to the hotel room and looked on the internet to find out what had happened. I COULDN'T FIND IT! I looked up the Atlanta Journal Constitution, New York Times, Drudge . . . nothing. Even the Israeli news services didn't have the story. I couldn't find it on the Jerusalem Post, Haaretz . . . nothing. Finally, I searched on Google News and found the story. It was the third story under a search for "Bethlehem."

On the one hand, I felt better than I hadn't missed it as a result of my scheduling, and I felt better than parents wouldn't be worried about us. On the other hand, I couldn't believe that this event that had such a profound effect on each of us on the trip would be page 17 news in Israel and not even make the papers at home. People were hurting. People were enraged. People were desperate. And, if we hadn't been there, we would never know. How can it be in this age of globalization when the world is getting so small that NO ONE would know?

How myopic are we? It seems that if we can ignore it, we will. We will just cross on the other side.

Even if we don't want to care because human beings are suffering, what about the Palestinian Christians? These are people in my church who claim my savior. They are ostracized by Israelis for being Palestinian and by Palestinian Muslims for being Christian. We are the body of Christ and one part is suffering, shouldn't the whole body suffer? Shouldn't we care?