Paul Chambers

and once more, too wounded to hurt.

Did not sleep at all last night

Kept remembering the faces of the Palestinian stones

their struggle

their pain

their hope

and their beauty

re-entry is not easy.

Surely there is a healing process with the that will liberate both Palestinian and Jew so giving no reason for the land occupation or the wall

Surely these are the teachings of Christ 

To fight injustice

To love the enemy

And surely this isn’t a piece of advice; this is a command

I guess I need to become one with that process…

(Banksy original inside the walls of Dheisheh Refugee Camp: Canon 20D)

It was one of the most difficult days. Visiting the refugee camp, particularly seeing the children who may never leave, may never have an innocence that our own take for granted – the wall has taken care of that.

Anyhow, whilst we were having (I have to say the worst) cup of coffee at the cafe inside the refugee camp, the handsome Kester read this poem to our little tribe. Sadly it resonates well.

Step forward: we hear
that you are a good man.

You cannot be bought, but the lightning
which strikes the house, also
cannot be bought.
You hold to what you said.
But what did you say?
You are honest, you say your opinion.
Which opinion?
You are brave.
Against whom?
You are wise.
For whom?
You do not consider your personal advantages.
Whose advantages do you consider then?
You are a good friend.
Are you also a good friend of the good people?

Hear us then: we know.
You are our enemy. This is why we shall
now put you in front of a wall. But in consideration
of your merits and good qualities
We shall put you in front of a good wall and shoot you
with a good bullet from a good gun and bury you
with a good shovel in the good earth.

Interrogation of the Good – Brecht

ps, is anyone else struggling to be back?

pps, 5 years since we lost Yac…. 

(The old city from the Mount of Olives: Canon 400D – click on image for better viewing)

It was a place I had looked forward to standing in; a place where I somehow might feel a presence that transcends time – a presence that the Kings and Prophets of old would have sensed, the same presence that stirred in Christ’s heart and caused him to weep over Jerusalem.

Mitri Raheb is a Palestinian Arab and Christian Pastor who ministers to his people in Bethlehem. He is a remarkable man. He is a living stone and this is the kind of lack for humanity he weeps over. I think God does too…

This is a longer post than normal… stick with it please, this is happening on a daily basis in both Gaza and the West Bank:

Sameer, my father-in-law, was a businessman. He owned a travel agency and a restaurant before he emigrated to Michigan in the late 1970s to become an American citizen. Later he came back to Bethlehem, where he reopened his restaurant and with a few others started a hotel not far from the check point. Because he was a hotel owner who needed to go to Jerusalem to look for business and groups, and as someone who was seventy four years old, he occasionally obtained permits from the Israeli’s to enter Jerusalem. (In fact, my father-in-law’s hotel, Bethlehem Inn, has been occupied by Israeli soldiers since October 2000. They placed Israeli snipers there, prohibited any of the owners from entering it, and transformed it into a military headquarters. The Israeli military justified the hotel’s occupation as “for military purposes.” No doubt, the occupation of his property affected my father-in-law’s health. And the soldier who stopped the ambulance at the check point that day might have stayed the previous night in my father-in-law’s hotel.)

He looked at the permit in his hand and said to the driver, “This permit isn’t valid.”

The driver said to my father-in-law, “I thought you told me that you have a valid permit to Jerusalem.”

My father-in-law answered, “It is valid. Read the date carefully. It’s still good for the next few weeks.”

“I can read,” the soldier replied. “No problem with the date. But here it says that the purpose of entry is business. Today you aren’t a businessman, but a patient. For this reason, the permit isn’t valid. You are not allowed to enter.”

By that time, my mother-in-law was becoming more and more worried about her husband and more and more impatient. “But we are American citizens. Here are our American passports. As such, we cannot be prevented from entering Jerusalem.”

“Your American citizenship does not count if you are Palestinians,” the soldiers replied. “Go back, get a permit, and then come back! Turn around quickly.”

“You do not fear God? Don’t you see that this old man is in pain?”

It was clear by that time that the soldier was in a bad mood and there was no chance of entering. Therefore, the driver decided to try his luck at the other checkpoint to the west of Bethlehem, less than a mile away. So the ambulance turned around, drove back, and climbed up the hill, driving through the town of Beit Jala to reach the so called DCO checkpoint.

The ambulance had to stop again and wait for the soldiers before approaching. The soldier there was somehow quicker than the soldier at the other checkpoint. Again, the soldier asked for my father-in-law’s permit, read it, and gave it back. “The patient can enter Jerusalem, but not in this ambulance,” the soldier said.

“But this isn’t the first time that we’ve entered Jerusalem with this ambulance,” the driver said.

“No, the ambulance is not allowed.”

Arguing with the soldier did not prove helpful at all, so the ambulance driver suggested calling another ambulance from Jerusalem to come to the checkpoint and take my parents-in-law to the hospital. The driver called a Palestinian ambulance from Jerusalem.

In half an hour, the Jerusalem ambulance arrived at the checkpoint. It backed up to the checkpoint and stopped back to back with the Bethlehem ambulance. The drivers carried my father-in-law from one ambulance into the other one, and the ambulance quickly left the check point to Jerusalem.

By then it was close to 11:00 am. In less than thirty minutes, the ambulance arrived at St. Joseph Hospital. Once my mother-in-law stepped into this hospital, she felt relieved. Finally they were in a better situation. She was confident her husband would get the treatment he deserved. She thanked God they finally reached their goal.

Two doctors were already waiting for him. They performed a cardiogram and several other tests. “His situation is very serious. Why didn’t you bring him here earlier?” one doctor asked my mother-in-law.

“The soldiers at the checkpoint didn’t let us through,” she explained. Then she asked, “But how serious is his situation? What is he suffering from?”

“He had a severe heart attack a few hours ago. His heart muscles are damaged to a large extent. His chances of survival are very low,” the doctors answered.

“There is no hope at all?” my mother-in-law asked.

“There is always hope in God, but his situation is very serious, and you should know that. If he survives, then it would only be through a miracle!”

Twelve days later, on January 16, 2004, my father-in-law died. He was seventy-four years old. His only son had not been allowed to enter Jerusalem to visit him. His daughters and I had been granted four-day permits, twice, to visit him during day-light. Sameer, my father-in-law, died of a heart attack because of nonexistent professional health services in Bethlehem and because of Israeli checkpoints.

He isn’t the only one who has died for these reasons. Almost daily this same story repeats itself. The poor health services in Bethlehem and the checkpoints around our city are matters of life and death. When we buried my father-in-law, I wondered what would happen if I were to have a heart attack one day. Where would I go, and how would I survive the checkpoint? In Bethlehem, almost everyone has the same worry.

(The checkpoint Mitri’s father-in-law finally got through. This is the ‘walk through’ side of the checkpoint. Armed Guards were watching closely and I wasn’t supposed to be taking pictures: Canon 20D) 

I am experiencing a variety of emotions – my trip was such a deep experience that I am feeling a sense of loss… in truth I am struggling on so many levels, in so many areas of my existence… tried to write tonight but nothing comes… it’s all too raw and there is a sadness so deep no tears will come; tonight there is a deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.

Next tuesday is a big day for us all….

(The wastelands of bulldozed Palestinian homes: Canon 400D)

Feelings, emotions, and images are jockying for pole position in my mind….slowly the story is being written, my hard work is now beginning…

The problem, however, is not how to reach peace. The two-state solution has been readily available for the past 20, if not 40 years. The problem remains one of good faith. Is Israel genuinely willing to end the conflict by permitting the establishment of a viable and truly sovereign Palestinian state or, as has been the case in the past, is it trying to finesse permanent control over the entire Land of Israel under the guise of a two-state solution?

The overriding question for Israeli governments, then, is not how to reach peace, but how to transform its occupation into a permanent political fact without seeming to descend into apartheid.

(Jeff Halper)

(Children of Dheisheh: Canon 20D)

“…here are very peaceful people.

People want to live.

People want to love.

People want to dream.

That’s why I’m still here because people are good.

Go to the villages. Go to the refugee camps. You feel at home. You feel warmth. This is something that you do not always see anywhere else.”

(Wisam Salsaa, our guide)

This is true, Wisam is a good man who is weary from the aparthied that he is subjected to. He is not broken though, but it is a crime, literally, that this occupies the many people who, like Wisam, are good…

(The ghetto of tears: Canon 400D)

(The wilderness between Jerusalem and Jericho: where Jesus and the devil went toe to toe)

‘In a land once known as holy the gun is in control…’

It began here; not in Rome, Canterbury or St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Spirituality is found on the ground in the struggle.

I guess the need is for a people who make their words flesh – time for church to become flesh – time for peacemakers, not peacetalkers.

There is space for everyone: a different flavour of spirituality will bring healing. A place where no-one is thrown out. There is space for both the Jew and the Palestinian (Christian and Muslim).

We are not tourists but pilgrims, journeying with the living stones.

We should not be building walls, we should be building bridges – bridges called justice, peace and equality.

We are not guards of holy shrines, we are here to carry the cause of Christ. I want to return…soon, even if it was at times part of a nightmare I never could have imagined.

Assalamu alaikum

‘…if peace on earth is to come, the wall must fall’

(Garth Hewitt)

Thanks again for the pic Harv…

(Refugee children)

Help us, Lord, to follow where you walk,

To stop where you stumble,

To grieve where you die,

To dance where you rise again,

Knowing that this is the only way

There is no other way.

Part of our final liturgy, part of our final evening together…

Our week together has been a heartbreaking account of what has happened to ordinary people… ordinary people and their story of how they live and survive under Israeli siege: particularly in Bethlehem, the birthplace of the prince of peace. 

This land has shaken me out of my complicity. An injustice has been visited on the little people of Palestine.

Peace here without justice for the Palestinians is impossible.

The picture I guess proves I was present on this voyage of broken hearts where I have discovered a Palestinian narrative of suffering and sacrifice infused with hope… these kids have lived on this refugee camp all their lives; they have never left… and if nothing changes… they never will.

Thanks Harvey for the pic, it’s been a pleasure rooming with you for a week

(Check point – Banksy: Canon 20D)

… am by the sea of Galilee but am too tired for sleep and too wounded to hurt

left the west bank today, we left some of the warmest people i have ever had he pleasure of meeting, my heart has aged this week… it broke when i said goodbye. This life has shown me how we are bent and how we are torn… my brothers and sisters in Palestine know this full well.

i wonder what it looked like when the devil tempted Christ… today i stood where it happened 

earlier this week we were treated to an upside down meal from refugees – it was beautiful

may it be the same for this beautiful land, may god turn this apartheid around…

and remember that communities grow strong when people plant trees they know they will never sit under.

this Banksy was on a wall outside the hotel…

it’s always the ones who never get searched that need to be…

It’s late and our time in Bethlehem is now over. In the morning we will drive to Nazareth.

Today we went to a house where a boy was shot and killed by the Israeli soldiers for being late for a curfew… the hospital found 35 bullets in him. His family live on a refugee camp in Bethlehem.

It’s name is Dheisheh

It has 12,000 residents, 6,000 of whom are children and who live on less than 1 square kilometer of land. Dheisheh is one of 59 Palestinian refugee camps that was established after Al-Nakaba (“the catastrophe”) or the founding of the state of Israel in 1948. 7 million Palestinian refugees remain displaced around the world today. Here are 2 of them…

(Refugees: Panasonic dmc-fx100)

(thanks to Stuart who let me take the shot I wanted with his camera just seconds after my battery went to sleep)