Talk for Newman University’s Prayer Breakfast on 11/15/23
I think that I have been invited to speak today because I lived in Israel for nine years, and some people are hoping that this might give me a perspective on what is going on over there right now. But I must warn you: a very wise man once told me that if someone spends a week touring Israel, they go back home and write up an article pontificating on the political climate; if they spend a month, they might write a book; but when someone has lived ten years there, all they can do is keep their mouth shut. So, I suppose that since I came back home just short of the necessary decade, I probably have too much to say.
“I am not ashamed of the gospel: it is the power of God for salvation to every one who has faith.” As a young, ambitious man, these words of St. Paul from the book of Romans lit a fire in me, and propelled me into a career of missions work in Israel. Indeed, I was not ashamed of the Gospel when I left for Israel as a naïve young man 22 years ago, wife and baby girl in tow. My great desire was to bring the peoples of the Holy Land into contact with the “power of God for salvation” that is the Gospel. My head was full of romantic visions of pious rabbis having conversations with me about messianic prophecy, and noble Muslims listening to me testify to the redeeming power of Jesus.
I was setting myself up to be perplexed. I soon discovered that neither Jews nor Muslims wanted to hear about what Jesus meant to me. On the contrary … I had experiences like these: a Jewish professor that opened every class session with jokes making fun of Jesus and Mary; Muslim kids in Jerusalem who spat on me whenever I entered and exited a church in the Muslim quarter.
I was perplexed because I had romanticized the peoples of Israel, so I was deeply offended when they did not behave the way that I had expected. I had projected my Gospel values onto them.
I think that this is the lesson that I have learned from this: being a peacemaker means accepting people where they are.
I have been reminded of this recently as I witness the perplexity of the West in view of the Israel/Hamas War. The West is no longer Christian, but latent Christian values shape our expectations. Our western culture is full of Gospel residue. But Muslims and Jews do not share the same worldview. We have romanticized them, and we are shocked when they do not behave like we think they should.
Let me illustrate. In his A Rabbi Talks with Jesus, even a progressive, American, Reformed Jewish Rabbi like Jacob Neusner responded with horror to Jesus’ command to turn the other cheek. Torah, the Jewish law, demands justice, after all, and that means seeing that wrongdoers are punished in kind, or even with greater ferocity. This goes a long way towards explaining why Israel is doing what they are doing in Gaza.
On the other side, many revered teachers of Islam have given instructions regarding Dar al-Salam (The Territory of Peace) and Dar al-Harb (The Territory of the Sword). Dar al-Harb is any region that was at one time a Muslim-majority territory, Dar al-Salam, but has come under the domination of non-Muslims. In such terms, Israel is clearly Dar al-Harb, and as such, many Muslims feel they have a duty to restore it to the category of Dar al-Salam, by any means necessary.
In a few minutes, you will hear Momadou read Ayat al-Kursi, the famous “Throne Verse” from Surat al-Baqarah in the Quran. It is a lovely meditation on God’s glory and majesty. However, if we really want to encounter Muslims as real Muslims, and not just romanticized Muslims, we would have to read the entire Quran. There are other things in Surat al-Baqarah that trouble me as a Christian. This surah contains another famous ayah, the “Jihad Verse.” Here is Pickthall’s translation: “Warfare is ordained for you, though it is hateful unto you; but it may happen that ye hate a thing which is good for you, and it may happen that ye love a thing which is bad for you. Allah knoweth, ye know not.” Muslim commentators recognize in this ayah the principle behind Dar al-Harb. In practical terms, applicable to our current situation, this is the religious basis for carrying out war against Jews in Israel. As a Christian who wants to love and engage with Muslims, I am tempted to turn my gaze away from difficult passages such as this. But accepting Muslims on my terms and not their own is not fair to them.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.” Of course, we know what happened to the Son of God. Being a peacemaker means getting bloodied, allowing yourself to be pulled and contorted by and tortured by the different “sides,” because we refuse to take one side.
Eventually, I discovered that the people in Israel and Palestine with whom I enjoyed conversing the most were the ones who disagreed with me most, because I knew where they stood. In one respect, they were more like me than “friends” who pretended to admire my Christian faith just to be nice. An Orthodox Jew who spat every time he blasphemously mispronounced the name of Jesus, or a devout Muslim who insisted that the Christians martyred in Jericho surely had it coming to them, was a true believer, all-in. Yes, I was offended by what they had to say. It even hurt. But authentic encounter has to hurt. When God made Himself vulnerable in Jesus Christ, we hurt Him, and yet He endured it, because of the joy set before Him. As a disciple of Jesus, I am called to that same vulnerability, in view of the same joy.
