A Reflection by Reverend Sally Thacher

My summer was filled with rich blessings. In June I spent a stimulating week at Yale Divinity School studying with two of my favorite Bible professors. July brought our son's marriage to a young woman whom we have loved for several years. It was a joyous family celebration in the rolling hills of Oregon's Willamette Valley.

A week later, I set off on the most amazing trip of my life. You've heard countless jokes about the Rabbi, the priest and the Protestant minister who.....Well, we were seventeen rabbis, priests, and ministers who traveled to Israel under the auspices of the Boston area Jewish Community Relations Council. The study tour was intended to provide greater interfaith understanding, especially in the context of that fascinating, exciting and perplexing land that is the birthplace of our respective religions.

Both my heart and my head are so full of what I saw, learned and experienced that I hardly know where to begin to share some of it with you.

We traveled the length and breadth of Israel, visiting biblical and historic sites and listening to an impressive roster of speakers about the many successes and accomplishments of Israel as well as the issues that face the country today. We read scripture, prayed together and shared theological reflections each day. In the course of our shared travels, study and conversations, we developed strong bonds as brothers and sisters in our common vocation and increased our understanding of our sister faiths.

In addition to visiting biblical and historic sites, we stayed at a Kibbutz in the north. We toured disputed border areas both in the north and in the south near Gaza where "incidents" took place within days of our visits. In the Golan Heights, we visited the border with Syria in a place aptly named "The Valley of Tears" where the destruction was almost total, UN peacekeeping forces continue to patrol, and a rusted tank from earlier battles stands guard over the empty landscape.

We developed a better understanding of the dangers Israelis face in certain areas, especially the disputed areas, and of the vulnerability they feel as a tiny nation the size of New Jersey with a population of 7 million, surrounded by hundreds of millions of often hostile peoples.

I also learned that this underlying existential fear grows not only out of physical and external threats, but from divisive internal issues as well. This diffuse anxiety seems to lead to a fear of criticism. A number of times I heard the claim that criticism or questioning of some of Israel's policies amounted to anti-Semitism and de-legitimization of Israel as a nation. Although that is undoubtedly true in somes cases, it seemed difficult for some Israelies to accept the fact that criticism can also come from friends and allies who deeply desire that Israel continue to thrive and to do so in a secure environment of just peace.

After this trip, I will never read the Bible the same way again. What a powerful experience to see and walk the land where Jesus preached and healed and taught about the Kingdom of God, and where the prophets railed against the sins of a society which repeatedly failed to obey God. It was a breathtaking experience to walk next to the Jordan River across which Joshua led the Israelites into the Promised Land, to dip into the water where Jesus was baptized (even if it wasn't the exact spot), to see what it might have looked like in his day. To sit beside a church on the slopes overlooking the Sea of Galilee somewhere near where Jesus fed the 5,000 and preached the Sermon on the Mount, and listen to a colleague recite as if he were preaching to us, was a precious gift.

Entering Jerusalem was perhaps the most emotional moment of the trip for me. At the end of the rigorous and scorching hot days, our bus paused at the top of one of the hills overlooking Jerusalem where we disembarked for a traditional Jewish blessing recited on entering Jerusalem the first time on each visit to Israel. Interestingly, part of the ritual is to say a blessing over bread and wine as they are shared- a poignant reminder of Jesus' Last Supper with his disciples on the outskirts of Jerusalem on the eve of that fateful weekend.

Spread below us in the golden glow of the late afternoon was the city for which Jesus wept before entering -- and still has cause to weep-- the city which was the setting for the agonizing climax of his ministry. It felt as if our trip through Galilee and along the Jordan valley also was culminating in this city which is so important to three faiths, a city which has seen so much betrayal and bloodshed over the centuries and even today finds itself at the center of international disputes.

It was heartbreakingly beautiful - the famous golden limestone wall surrounding the Old City with the stunning gold of the Islamic Dome of the Rock at its heart, atop the Temple Mount. We sang a haunting Hebrew song called "Jerusalem of Gold" whose refrain brought me to tears each time we repeated it: "Jerusalem of gold, of copper, of light, Am I not a violin for all your songs."

No trip to Israel would be complete without a visit to Bethlehem or to Yad Vashem, the Jewish National Memorial to the Holocaust. My heart is full with gratitude for the grace of this unforgettable experience.

My Trip to the Holy Land, a Reflection, Rev. Matt Carriker

Last week, I had the pleasure of traveling to the Holy Land for the very first time. What a week! Organized by the Jewish Community Relations Council, our trip consisted of a group of almost 20 Christian and Jewish clergy persons.

As I walked numerous Jewish and Christian holy sites, I couldn't help but feel a deep connection with the land in Israel. Everywhere one travels there is a history as ancient as the Bible itself. I was consistently amazed at how often we would pass sites while driving and hear from our tour guide things like, "this is the field where David fought Goliath" or "this is where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found."

From this experience, I began to understand the depth of connection that the Jewish people feel to the land of their ancestors. As I gazed upon this ancient land, I could imagine traveling the desert with Abraham and Sarah. As I walked through the Old City in Jerusalem, I could imagine what Jesus might have felt while entering the gates of the city on Palm Sunday, or while constantly challenging the religious authorities. On the trip's blog (found here: http://jcrcinisrael.blogspot.com), Rev. Sally Newhall put it perfectly:

"To see what Jesus saw when he stepped out of his doorway each day as a child, what David saw as he climbed the hill that we call Mt. Zion, to overlook the hills upon which the Crusaders and Muslims fought so long ago and more recently the war of independence and the Six Day War - to see all of this feels like being in a vortex of time and brings those events so much more alive for me."

Each day, I also heard about how the land here- and the connection that people of sincere faith feel to that land- has been a source of conflict over the past century. How could such great spiritual traditions fight for so long over land- even to the point of killing one another?

What I found out in the Holy Land is that the majority of people- over 70% in both Israel and Palestinian territories- are in favor of peace. It is a minority of extremists on both sides whose actions have thwarted the peace process. It was inspiring to see examples of people from both sides of the conflict who are working for peace, and who have been doing so for some time (most especially from the OneVoice movement: http://www.onevoicemovement.org).

One activity that made the trip especially meaningful was the spiritual dimension infused into it, where one clergy person was asked to share something at each site- perhaps a prayer, a scripture reading, a reflection, a song, etc. In the midst of sites that were often busy and noisy, these reflections brought me back to the heart of why we were here.

One day, our group traveled to the Mount of Beatitudes. Before we entered the grounds to where Jesus was reported to have spoken these words, one of the clergy repeated verses from the Sermon on the Mount. As he spoke from the heart, without notes or text, these words of Jesus (from Matthew 5: 3-11 and 5: 43-48) came alive:

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
"Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
"Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
"Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven...
"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."

What would it take to live out these words today? To be peacemakers? To live with purity of heart? To hunger and thirst for righteousness? To love even our enemy?

After a talk on the Israel/Lebanon border, we heard about how an Israeli kibbutz (place of communal living) on the border had been bombed for over 30 days straight in 2006. We heard about a terrorist organization called Hezbollah, controlled and financed by Iran, who is hiding weapons in the homes of civilians in Lebanon. The talk was, to say the least, a bit daunting. How can we achieve peace in the midst of these circumstances?

After the talk on the border, the words of St. Francis of Assisi came to my mind. At a reflection after the border talk, I shared with our group St. Francis' peace prayer:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life. Amen.

After only one week in Israel, I do not have all the answers on how to achieve peace in the Middle East. In fact, my time produced more questions than answers! But, from the life of Jesus, St. Francis, and saints of every religion, I do feel positive about one trustworthy first step to peace:

Be the source of the change you with to see in the world.

Don't wait for another to be loving. Be loving first. Don't wait for another to make peace. Be a peacemaker in all that you think, say, and do.

A simple solution? Perhaps. But it is a message that Jesus gives over and over again in his teachings in the gospels, and through the living of his life. Embody peace yourself. Though temporary peace can be made through laws, agreements, and mandates, lasting peace comes from within the human heart. This is a peace that is not simply the absence of conflict, but that is full of harmony, beauty, goodness, and the love of God.

May that peace be yours today, in all things. Blessings,

Matt Carriker

Thoughts from Rabbi Dan Liben

I am so very grateful to JCRC for the opportunity to see Israel through the eyes of another faith tradition, at the same time that I was engaged in sharing with Christian colleagues the Israel that I love from the perspective of my own tradition. The last seven days together have been transformative, and I will be processing our time together for a very long time. Several things came together to create an experience that surpassed my expectations.

First, the incredible array of voices that JCRC put together in planning this experience created a symphony of complexity and depth. There is no single Israeli narrative here; there are many, often passionate, narratives voiced by people who love this country and who are seeking truth as best they can. Kol HaKavod to the JCRC for bringing these varied voices together for us.

Second, the coming together of this particular group of Holy Land Pilgrims, Jewish and Christian, was a Divine gift. The openness, the trust, the intellectual honesty and the compassion of these individuals reflected nothing less than the presence of God. We shared, we heard one another, and we learned from one another. Also, the ability of my Christian colleagues to join in Jewish Sabbath prayers with us with such whole heartedness was humbling, and has given me much to think about. It is not usual for adults to make new friends, good friends, in a week. But I feel (I know) that I have.

Finally, this crazy, challenged, and challenging country, this sui generous miracle of a people restored to its ancient land, this society of immigrants who against all odds share a vison of a common destiny that is both particular and universal in its outlook and goals, inspires me beyond words. As Bob wrote, it is a work in progress. And yet, the commitment of people here to overcome the contradictions and to create a just society under unusally complex circumstances is the true miracle of the State of Israel. May we all be blessed to stand in its light.

Thoughts from Father Jim O'Driscoll

I was very moved by my visit to the Holocaust Memorial in Washington DC but I cannot express how profound the experience of visiting Yad Vashem was for me. Our guide, Gilad Peled, made the tour of the museum not only person but he shared a profound amount of information.

The Children’s Memorial was the most moving. The darkness with the memorial flames glittering like stars in an empty night sky intensified the recital of the names and ages of the children.

Of the six million murdered in the Shoah genocide, the one and a half million children’s murder was the most horrific. How can often “ordinary” human beings, frequently educated, demonize, dehumanize and murder babies and children?

Countering Stalin’s boast in the face of the mass murders that the “death of one man is a tragedy but the death of a million is a statistic”, Gandhi, I believe, said “the killing of one man is the killing of a whole universe.”

Thoughts from Rev. Sally Newhall

Here it is – the beginning of our last day in Israel! My head is spinning from all I have seen and heard. Reflecting on what stands out for me from the trip some things come to mind. First, the land. This is my second trip to Israel but I am still mesmerized by just looking at the land. To see what Jesus saw when he stepped out of his doorway each day as a child, what David saw as he climbed the hill that we call Mt. Zion, to overlook the hills upon which the Crusaders and Muslims fought so long ago and more recently the war of independence and the Six Day War – to see all of this feels like being in a vortex of time and brings those events so much more alive for me.

The second major impact of this trip has been the amazing array of people to whom we have been introduced. Just yesterday we began the day speaking with a Holocaust scholar before seeing Yad Vashem, from there to the Foreign Ministry to meet with two division heads before visiting the settlement of Efrat and finally dining with the former Executive Editor of the Jerusalem Post! My head was spinning by the end of the day. I am so grateful for this unique opportunity to discover so many facets of Israel’s history and present. Yesterday, our six days of traveling and experiencing this rich trip together erupted into a rich discussion on the bus.

Our wonderful mix of theological perspectives has been an integral element in this this whole week and is the third impact of this trip for me. We have worshiped, prayed, and argued together – all of us growing in our understanding aand appreciation of the richness of the heritage we all share and of the uniqueness of our differences. Out of all of these experiences has come a new sensitivity to the importance of the use of language in the Israeli-Palestinian dialogue.

For instance, I have discovered the importance of remembering that Palestine was never a nation in this land – rather Palestinians were residents in the occupied territories (subject to the Turks, British and French). So to speak of giving the West Bank back to the Palestinians is itself inflammatory language. For many with whom we have spoken, the demand that the West Bank be given to the Palestinians is actually a demand that Israel give away territory to a people who never held it in their own right before. I have become aware of how much more I need to learn

And so our last day begins…

Thoughts from Rev. Tony Kill

August 1, 2010

Today's visits and conversations engaged us in extreme contrasts. We started the morning with a very engaging and personable lecture from Shlomo Balsam, a teacher at Yad Vashem, who made the experience of the 1940's Holocaust immediate and personal by describing his family's experience in France and in Palestine/Israel, complete with photos and documents from the time.

That sense of immediacy continued as we went to Yad Vashem and saw the newly built and expanded museum, where the focus is now on recalling Jewish life in Europe and real, individual human lives - people with names and occupations and families and life-stories, as well as recalling and documenting the horrors of gradually building anti-Semitism.

The long history of anti-Semitism and demonizing of the Jew gradually turned into the policies of discrimination and isolation, which the Nazis twisted into their theories of racial superiority and inferiority, till the Jewish people could be a declared parasites on the human race that must be eradicated (along with the weak, infirm, disabled, gypsies, gays, etc.)

The whole experience of Yad Vashem was powerfully moving, deeply sad, and horrifying, familiar as it is. And to be recounting all that history, with all those photos and names and stories, right here in the land of Israel, was even more moving. The prayer service that our group held at the end , with moments of reflective silence, was a balm for the soul.

The rest of the day also held some extreme contrasts. We visited the Foreign Ministry offices, where we first met with Shmuel Ben-Shmuel, head of World Jewish and Religious Affairs. He seemed very uncomfortable - never made eye contact with anyone, slouched in his chair and talked very haltingly and played with his pen the whole time. He talked about relations between major world religious groups and Israel, but when someone tried to discuss the concerns that some mainline Protestant American denominations have tried to raise about the civil rights and human rights of Palestinians in the current situation, he seemed to become quickly defensive.

While he said repeatedly that Israel is open to criticism, in the very next sentence he repeatedly seemed to equate criticism with de-legitimization and a denial of Israel's right to exist. It made any further discussion or clarification of the other concerns that other religious groups have had very difficult.

The next speaker, Baruch Binah, was much more open, engaging and articulate. He was head of the Division of Diaspora and North American affairs. He spoke quite knowledgeably and passionately about the importance of a close alliance between the United States and Israel (and the need for the world to understand that unshakable alliance) for any profitably negotiations to happen with the Palestinians and the Arab world.

Our next stop was out to Efrat, a Jewish settlement in the Gush Etzion bloc in the West Bank. There we met with a representative, an American Jew who has lived in this town for 25 years.

One of the most striking parts of the conversation was his firm conviction that in the Torah, God had commanded the Jewish people to inhabit the land and that this commandment was just as current today and applicable to him as it was in the time of Moses. He said that the Law and the Land are, in his understanding, essential to the identity of a Jew.

This led to much discussion on the way home between the Christian clergy and the Rabbis about how literally we understand the scriptures and the Will of God in our lives. Does God command specific acts in specific situations? Does God directly control our actions? This led to an ongoing discussion about our different understandings of forgiveness and how we treat our enemies – great theological dialogues on the road to Jerusalem!

The day ended with supper and dessert discussion with the former Executive editor of the Jerusalem Post, Amotz Asa-El. He spoke eloquently about the unparalleled success of the development of the State of Israel – creating a “new” modern language that is now universal, integrating many, many, cultures and ethnic groups, overcoming tremendous economic challenges etc. Yet these unheard of successes are never noted in the world press – a very engaging and thought provoking talk.

Indeed a very engaging and thought provoking day!

Thoughts from Father John MacInnis

July 29, 2010
Today is Friday, a day when the old city of Jerusalem will swell with crowds of Muslims going to prayer during the day and tonight our Jewish companions will take us to Shabbat services. Friday is the day Christians recall the death of Jesus Christ. For Father Jim O'Driscoll, Father Sean Maher and me, today began at 6:30 AM when we celebrated Mass in our small hotel room.


The heart of this daily priestly ritual is the dying and raising of Jesus. Later we'll walk the Via Dolorosa with our group. Jim and Sean will lead the Stations of the Cross, recalling 14 points along the route Jesus took to his death and burial. We will end up at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher which tradition holds marks the place where Jesus died and was buried.
Our morning lecture was a lecture on "Ethics in the Field" by an Israeli colonel. During his explanation of how soldiers are trained to avoid civilian casualties when responding to terrorists, the colonel received a call on his cell phone. He was told that a missile had been fired from Gaza into the city of Ashkelon. He continued his lecture but suddenly I feel -- and I'm sure others felt -- that the reality of the violence we've been talking about has become uncomfortably closer. A little while later, on the bus, Rabbi David Lerner got a call from a friend in Ashkelon. She tells him the missile landed not far from her home. Terrorism feels much closer, more personal. During the day, as we pray at the Western Wall I lay my hand on the ancient stones and pray for peace with terror. When we were entering the Old City, I read aloud from Psalm 122 "Pray for the Peace of Jerusalem" I have prayed this so many times as a Priest. Today I prayed with deeper emotion and urgency. I recall that the death of Jesus outside the walls of this ancient city was the sacrifice which God's own son, his beloved, made of himself to save us from sin and death. His story does not end with but new life after his resurrection. When, I asked myself, will the dying in this land be transformed into new life? When, I pray will this land, so holy yet so wounded over centuries, become a place where believers can dwell in worship in peace with God and with each other?