It would be disingenuous to avoid politics when writing about our time in Bethlehem, but first, a little housekeeping. Please be warned that this contains political perspective that you may not agree with. Feel free to skip my words and take a look at Diego’s photos instead.
I went to Bethlehem envisioning open fields, shepherds, and the brass church that my Mom carefully arranges on her coffee table beside the nativity at Christmastime. You need to know that because it probably accounts for some of my utter shock upon actually seeing the birthplace of Jesus. Bethlehem is more akin to an open-air prison than it is to the quaint figment that I previously treasured. The city is in the West Bank, which is Palestinian territory under Israeli control, but it’s cut off from the rest of Israel by a giant concrete wall and a lot of soldiers with very big guns. Spoiler alert: the situation in Israel is famously complicated.
Diego wanted to do this stand-alone post about the wall because it was one of the most impactful things we experienced in Israel – both in its own right and given its relevance to our political climate back home. The imagery and messages strewn across the wall tell the stories both of its prisoners and would-be liberators from all over the world. Many Israelis would tell you that the wall is necessary for security in order to deter violence and fanaticism, but that argument seems pretty weak considering that Palestinians live on both sides of the wall.
Albert Einstein once rightly noted that “Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding.” Still, what do you do when both sides believe that their God promised them the same land? What do you do when your holiest sites are literally on top of one another? It’s not hard to see why the conflict is so complex, nor is it hard to understand how zealots on both sides are born. The Palestinians who live within Bethlehem lack autonomous access to basic life facilities like water and electricity. They aren’t allowed to drive on certain roads that run through their territory, they struggle to obtain work and building permits (some people we met called this impossible), and their movement is literally restricted with the wall (of course) and with numerous checkpoints. They lack the freedom to create a safe and secure future for their children, and sadly, they watch their situation grow ever more complex with each new Israeli settlement that is built within the West Bank. In my opinion, continuing to build these settlements is thinly veiled aggression. The fact that they simultaneously claim a desire for peace is confusing, at best.
It may not sound like it, but I believe that God promised to re-gather His people to Israel. It was central to His covenant with Abraham and there are countless Scriptures that support this promise – Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, etc. But as I stared at that wall and thought about all the bloodshed that led to the creation of the State of Israel and of all of the mounting hatred that followed, I couldn’t help but wonder whether we learned anything at all from past movements to create an ethnically preferential state.
Diego’s thoughts wandered back home:
We all know what a wall is, we have seen many and probably own a few. Walls usually support a structure and delineate rooms. Walls hold decorations and provide shelter. But when a wall is used to divide people, the word takes a very different connotation. I have been to Berlin and have seen the remains of the East Berlin/West Berlin wall. While you can try to imagine what it would have felt like to live on either side, it is not as impactful as witnessing a wall that is currently in use to separate a group of people from another.
It’s hard not to discuss politics since our country is actively planning to build a wall that would separate Mexico and the U.S. While the players are different, human beings have a sad way of repeating history. What is evident after experiencing life on both sides of the wall is that one people group always wins and another one loses. If you are on the winning side or the “free-side,” it’s easier to justify and explain why you took the actions that you did. If you are on the losing side, the feelings of rejection, segregation and being trapped are impossible to dismiss.
The constant thought that people were created to live free never left my mind as I walked the wall. It’s such a foundational feeling that we all have inside. I believe that it’s as necessary as air or food. When freedom is not present, we will fight for, wish for or think about it with every breath we take. As I photographed the street art on the wall I felt the cry of a people longing to be heard and tell their side of the story. It was hard to ignore the feeling of being trapped and rejected, and undesirable.
The world is increasingly a more complicated and tense place where we focus more on our differences than our similarities. We focus on the reasons why we are “better”, “more advanced” or “smarter” than others instead of how we can learn what makes the other person’s culture unique. We have forgotten how to appreciate each other and accept our differences. We have forgotten how to love and respect each other. Don’t we have enough stories of one people group excluding, segregating, or oppressing another? History tells us that it never ends well.
I know that this may sound naive, but I believe with every fiber of my being that love is the answer. We need to build bridges instead of walls. We need to talk about our differences and learn to respect one another. In the end, we are all valuable human beings living on this planetary floating rock. Humans were not meant to live in captivity and have a constant reminder that they are not welcome. We leave you with the same war cry that our people had during the Vietnam era that has been slightly changed to fit the current situation: Build hummus, not walls!
