Lent 3, John - Walking a Divided Land

John 4.5-42

But he had to go through Samaria. (John 4.4)

Jesus’ journey takes him through a land divided, by tradition and religion—like riding on the bus, past a Palestinian village on the right, an Israeli town on the hill above; or an Israeli “archaeological site with its ruins of a destroyed Arab town; or a Bedouin camp in the valley below an Israeli settlement.

Last May, as I rode the bus south toward the Israeli town of Sderot on the border with Gaza, I felt anxious, journeying toward the land of the “other”—an Israeli community located right on Israel’s border with Gaza, a place constantly under threat of attack by rockets launched from Gaza. It was these rocket attacks that Israel cited as the reason for its invasion of Gaza in December-January 2009-10. Although I knew we were meeting with a group of Israeli women who are working for peace, building bridges with their Gazan neighbors, my anger over Israel’s attack on Gaza and the horrible destruction of the towns and the deaths of so many civilians was stuck in my throat.

The women we were going to meet had moved their families to this land, which had once been home to both Palestinians and Jews, living side by side. They had come to this dry place to settle and claim the land for Israel. Even though I knew that they were working for peace, I knew that their presence was a source of the friction between Jews and Palestinians.

The bus pulled into the parking lot at Netiv-haAsara, a moshav, with a communal lifestyle similar to a kibbutz, but the agricultural lands are individually owned. It was planned as a buffer between Israel and the Gaza Strip, established in 1982 after Israel’s withdrawal from the Sinai and its peace agreement with Egypt. People are still moving here and the Jewish Agency provides each family with a small piece of land.

As I sat in the moshav’s community room, I learned that Roni does not want to be an obstacle to peace. She described their life here ten years ago, when Palestinians from nearby Beit Hanoun and Beit Lahiya came across the border each day to work the land of the moshav. These Israeli and Palestinian farmers got to know one another, visited with one another and celebrated weddings and other social events together. She said their lives have been “undermined by the military on both sides.” Photo: Roni and Julia in Netiv-haAsara, taken by Ellen Greene

In 2005, on the day after Israel withdrew from the Gaza Strip, removing its settlements, a rocket fired from Gaza killed a girl in Netiv-haAsara. Since then they have lived under constant threat of the rockets. Just because the rockets are homemade and rarely hit anything but a field, the threat of death is always present. When the siren sounds, everyone knows they have minutes to run to the shelters.

Julia is a social psychologist who teaches at the college near Sderot, 2 k from Gaza. Two years ago a student was killed in the parking lot by a rocket, while other students watched. The worst effect is psychological—75-80% of the people in the region have PTSD. These two women described their work to build bridges with their Palestinian neighbors—Products for Peace, which sells things like Palestinian soap with an Israeli-crafted soap dish. http://www.nisped.org.il/

Roni moved here from Britain, Julia from the US. Both came as young adults, full of hope and the promise of Israel. Julia said she once believed that Israel wanted peace, that the land was empty and that “the Arabs hated us.” Those hopes and visions have been shattered for both women as they have learned about Israel’s history and gotten to know their Palestinian neighbors.

Now they are busy planning seminars to build understanding. Julia told us she was opposed to the war on Gaza and opposes the building of the wall. She has called for an end to the blockade Israel has imposed on Gaza. One of the women in their group went to Ashdod to protest the killing of the nine people on the humanitarian aid ship Mavi Marmara, which happened a few days before we met. The woman was threatened by her neighbors, who told her to apologize for participating in the protest or leave the moshav. But Roni and Julia told us, “we don’t give up because there is no other way.” They want Jewish Americans to realize that Jews need to acknowledge the Armenian genocide and the Palestinian occupation; there need to be joint ceremonies so that these events are not forgotten, so that the people can change the future. “I don’t have to compare [the holocaust and the occupation]…I cannot, because we know what this is doing to us as a people….” She finds it easier to dialogue with Palestinians than with people in her own community. “We cannot solve this militarily; we need something different…both people are entitled to a land and a life, a right not to be bombed.”

I couldn’t agree more.

God of all being, you walked our roads and drank from our wells. You listened to our squabbles over land and our arguments about how to worship you. And you dared speak to the “other,” bringing healing and peace to a divided community. We pray that you continue your creative work, forming us in your image. Amen.


[Note: Sychar….Jacob’s Well. Sychar is commonly thought to be the ancient city of Shechem, today identified with the archaeological site of Tel Balata, on a small knoll (Shechem means “shoulder” or “high place”) near the city of Nablus in the West Bank. The site today is in the Balata Refugee Camp. To read more about Balata today, see Anna Baltzer’s beautiful photographs and stories in her book, Witness in Palestine.) Jacob’s Well is at the entrance to Balata Camp. In the Orthodox tradition, the feast day of Plotine, the name given to the unnamed woman of Samaria, is celebrated, on March 20.]