On Mount Moriah (Jerusalem 10.29)

It is said that the Solomon's temple was built and rebuilt on Mount Moriah itself, the apparent site on which God directs Abraham, at last, to turn from sacrificing Isaac (or Ishmael in Muslim versions).  It's a pivotal moment in biblical history, to be sure.  And the story lingers here, in Jerusalem, as an urgent call to nonviolence.  "It is time to put down knives and machine guns and rocket launchers," says the Spirit.  "It is time to ground the drones and missiles once and for all."  Let fathers turn to their sons in love and devotion.  Let mothers turns to their daughters in hope and joy and peace.  Our two-week trip to Israel, Palestine, Jerusalem has just begun.  Already, the urgent voices of Abraham, Sarah, Hagar, Isaac and Ishmael cry out.  And through them, in them, with them: the dark and lovely voice of God: "Peace!"

Pilgrims praying at the Western Wall in the Old City

Icon and candle burning at Jesus' tomb in the Old City

Young IDF soldier in the Old City

We visited last night's with Rami Elhanan and Bassam Aramim of the BEREAVED PARENTS' CIRCLE.  Both have lost young daughters to the violence and warfare here.  They talked about the devastating consequences of humiliating the 'other'--through violence and terror, through public policy, through the confiscation of lands and the demolition of homes.  "When one is humiliated," Rami said, "there will inevitably be an eruption of violence.  Somewhere.  At some point."  The strain of occupation, the impact of all this violence was etched in their faces.  They seemed understandably exhausted.

But their call to action was urgent and clear.  Said Rami: "Seventy years ago, the free and civilized world did nothing as cruelty enveloped Europe and my people were slaughtered.  Seventy years later, the free and civilized world does nothing as cruelty and occupation envelope this land.  What we demand of you is not that you are Pro-Israeli or Pro-Palestinian, but that you are PRO-PEACE.  And I want to say this, as a Jew: that ruling, occupying and subduing another people is not Jewish.  And criticizing this occupation, working to end it, is not anti-Semitic."

It was a powerful moment, a powerful evening, and these were two heart-broken and courageous fathers.  "We have a choice," they said in different ways, but nearly in unison, "in how we respond to our bereavement.  And we choose to find something like power in our pain, and to use that power for the good, for blessing."