Sunday, March 11, 2012

Antisemitism, Actually

I finally reached an important milestone: I was accused of antisemitism. I earned this esteemed merit-badge recently when I made some comments about tension between Iran and Israel. In essence, I stated that if the world wants to play “shoot the bad guys” then bombing Israel makes more sense. As a staunch pacifist, I condemn all “shoot the bad guys” tactics as unsustainable and unconscionable—and I made that clear. Ethically speaking, I find attacking Israel just as appalling as attacking Iran but from a practical perspective its a better short-term gamble because it would cost so much less than continuing to support Israel; it makes me nauseous to even write that. I stand by my assertion that there is no such thing as a military solution and Iran should be able to pursue its nuclear program to the same extent that everyone else does ~ I hope, none for everyone.

My accuser is an idiot American who decided to use a predictable pile of misinformation to attempt a lecture. As part of ‘becoming Daniel Xavier’, done being a people-pleaser, I decided I did not need his church’s money that badly and simply broke contact. I decided it was time to write the entry on antisemitism I’d been incubating, instead. Being called antisemitic is a twisted honor since I know, now, that I am being vocal enough to garner attention. Antisemitism in Europe sprang from superstition, bad scriptural interpretations, and inexcusable scapegoating. In a dark way, I joke that Israel is trying to remedy the senselessness of antisemitism by giving the world viable reasons to hate Jews. The flaw to that quip is that Israel does not represent world Jewry. Simultaneously, I have never said anything about the Judaic religion or Hebraic people throughout the diaspora, excepting certain Israelis, Israeli policy, and pro-Israel lobbies. I could start naming Jewish people I like but I should not have to gush about Albert Einstein or conscientious Jews I have met personally. For that matter, I follow Israeli human-rights pages with great joy and admiration. Israeli officials accuse Hamas of hiding rockets behind children but Israel, the nation-state, has hidden racist colonialism behind a relatively inoffensive faith tradition: Judaism.

“Antisemitic”, like “antiwhite”, is an obfuscatory, smokescreen label in most cases. Figuratively, the boy is crying wolf. When a Syrian crowd was chanting [trans]: “The Jews in a coffin and the Christians in Beirut {deported}”<<< THAT is antisemitism. I know what real wolves look like. Nevertheless, I could not help but notice the mixed company I have joined. Just as civil rights leaders, of great character, were accused of being “antiwhite” there are also discriminating scumbags who deflect labels like “racist” and “sexist” by crying for their free-speech and making downward social comparisons. Discrimination is not all about heinous acts: it is also about attitudes. My duty is to not fear the label while I fight for Arab human rights but also avoid becoming one of those hateful creatures.

The first step is to see the monster in myself: I am not an antisemite by nature but I have antisemitic tendencies as part of my job. Police on the gang-beat are probably not meditating on Cesar Chavez and Thurgood Marshal as they fulfill their duties-- their feelings about people of color will erode without taking time to be conscious of that deterioration. It took me several minutes to remember that Albert Einstein was Jewish at all because I have positive feelings about that name that naturally disconnect from settlers and IOF soldiers – the ‘Jews’ (practicing or not) that I hear about most. Passing through the checkpoint, the security guard came out of her booth with a lit cigarette, told me she was from Philly, and started to tell me how dangerous it was in Bethlehem [suspicious, brainwashed]. Sitting on the other side, at Tantur, a young Arab from Beit Zefafa crossed several lanes of traffic to make sure I had a place to stay for the night. It was only then that I noticed more than a dozen settlers had passed without acknowledging me [uncaring, irresponsible]. When the taxi arrived, the driver and some of his passengers were unapologetically nasty to a young tourist who had accidentally waited in the wrong place. They just would not quit or even shrug it off [unkind, nit-picky, nasty, elitist]. Between the uniforms, the yarmulkes, and the little star-of-David hanging from the rear-view mirror I can be certain these people are Jewish. I was not actively thinking about Barney Frank, who I like. It was work to pull-up on the reigns and think “these people are individually unappealing; I refuse to categorically condemn or even make a generalization just as I embrace fighting the systemic problems which encouraged them to be this way—none of which are by nature Judaic.” Fighting antisemitic thoughts is also part of my job.

Though this by no means exhausts my thoughts about antisemitism, racism, Islama-phobia, and related topics I believe I am ready to make a decree: readers, it is not the general public’s place to tell me I am being antisemitic. First of all, my former-facebook-friend demonstrated that he lacked requisite understanding of the issue and I am learning to expect no better. Second, and more important, it dawned on me that there are at least forty people, whom I call ‘colleagues’, who know me sufficiently and have heard enough about my work to make assessments about how antisemitic I am being. Added to that are higher officials in General Board of Global Ministry. There are enough people policing me and I refuse to be blown about by just any person with a facebook account. From now on, I am resolving to have faith in my colleagues and let the rest of the world blunder about as they please. If my friends are not already converts to Justice, then I cannot be held accountable for their ignorance beyond telling them the truth in the most complete way I can.


The truth remains: there is nothing that says Israel deserves to continue existing. Period. Israel has been a threat to other nations in the middle-East and the aggressor in the vast majority of circumstances, no matter what the revisionist historians say. Period. Israel, not Judaism, is a drain on US finances and Israel, not world Jewry, possesses destructive capabilities. Period. If I employed “shoot the bad guys” thinking, they would be on the top of my list. Period. I do not, nor will I ever, believe that killing innocent or even GUILTY Israelis is a solution to problems in the middle-East. Period. I employ the “Grace and cordial relations” line of thinking. FULL-STOP. Israel needs to be included in any solution for the Holy Land. Period. No matter how scummy the Israeli, the Iranian, the American, etc, that person is still entitled to God’s love and forgiveness. Period.

Halas: print-it.

The Sixth Prayer

First Prayer for the Sixth Chapter:

Great Guide, I cannot live in a vacuum no matter how hard I try. Things happen to me that are outside of my control. I fail to counter things within my control, sometimes. I fail to build my practices in a way that helps me. When all of these combine, I experience setbacks. At times I choose to feel despair. Other times, I choose to be angry and form a plan. Still more times, I try to continue in whatever vein that I was in, ignoring my slide. I need Your help, God.

I need you to turn my eyes toward my dysfunctions but, at the same time, to train me in new ways to relate to myself. My coping has become dysfunction, as well, and it drives me further and further into this bog. Release me from the muck and show me a new way that I have not thought about before. Teach me to embrace pain as it comes, neither in masochism nor avoidance. Teach me to give myself room to be human without becoming hedonic or apathetic. Teach me to relate to others with kindness and clarity but to be free of their opinions so I can act from a patient heart. Help me never to fear a burned bridge but to avoid carrying torches with me. Give me the strength to do what is necessary but never the mentality of power.

And let something good happen today. Let me be happy about life! Let me forgive myself for what I have done wrong but also walk away from my sins and frustrations. Help me to face the darkness and pass through to the other side, not dwell there eternally or try to run toward the sunset every waking moment. Most of all, draw me closer to you again with open arms. Let me be a saved sheep, a found coin, and a beloved prodigal.

I love you but not nearly enough,

Daniel X.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

The Fifth Prayer

The First Prayer for the Fifth Chapter


Oh my Guiding Light, my intellect and emotion are not only lost in this darkness but often hopelessly separated from one another. Divided deeply in myself, I have struggled for years to reach resolution and wholeness, to be joined together with myself permanently and calcified in that moment. I see that you will not allow me to live safely inside a shell, of my own excretion nor a borrowed house like the hermit crab’s. You lead me into valleys in order to lead me over mountain tops and, again, into valleys. All is chasing after the wind but this is actually good. Even my prayers can be improvised, with no definite ending nor aversion to digression.

My resistance is so deep that I feel as if I were cooperating with you when I am actually resistant. My concessions have been too small both to bring me out of darkness, as I desired, and to pass through this darkness in anticipation of the next and next and next. So, I ask you to be my Guardian with the understanding that I am even less capable than a child, since I learn so slowly ~ I am spiritually handicapped, Momma. I need you to gently take me from dark episode to dark episode, skillfully and lovingly. Hold me in your arms even though I seem sometimes to be unlike the son you created, unlike even the son I imagined that I was. Hold me in your arms for my own sake and the sake of your love. There is no one you have created that is not part of your designs and thus both beloved and important. Break down the exoskeleton of pride around me and help me to appreciate this.

Simultaneously, I have faith that you are teaching me a better way to travel through life – you are giving me the muscles and the gear to persevere in persistence instead of stubbornness. Though I am prone to only try harder for a solution, you will perfect an entire method in and through me. You are ready at every opportunity to continue my evolution; my metamorphosis is not one but a series of chrysalises. So, I will not ask you to lift darkness from my life any longer nor even to give me the flashlight. Instead, I ask that you would dwell with me and join me with the darkness until my eyes have dilated, my ears and nostrils have opened, and every hair stands-up on my body to feel my way. Steady me and make me a denizen of the wilderness I have resisted and, please, bless my life with constant learning, everlasting companions, and a peace that surpasses this world’s understanding.

I want to know you better, Sustainer -- whisper to me,

-Fysh Phoenix

Saturday, March 3, 2012

The Fourth Prayer

Guiding Spirit, for centuries we have fixed our eyes upon controlling the outcomes of our lives. In your Loving Way, you wanted us to remain blissful and trust in Your Communion alone but we suffer the natural consequences of our inner serpent voices. Since I am separate from the perfect communion with you, I often unknowingly put the responsibility on myself to control the outcomes in my life. I worry. Worse, I slip into a state of tunnel vision that does not allow me to relate with you or the people around me fully. I become velocitated to the race of achievement, or simply keeping-up. I can blame my society or worriers in my life but that does not bring me closer to connecting with the Life your Spirit can offer me through a life of possibility.

As I begin, remind me I am in the middle; when I press toward a resolution or conclusion, remind me to seek a healthy extension. Give me the self-awareness to be mindful of my thoughts and actions without attaching unnecessary evaluative judgments. Give me patience for others in their own circumstances and patience for the process of mending bridges, which is time consuming, rather than trying to turn back time and erase the storms. In the midst of my storms, help me to become light so that I can be thrown from the maelstrom rather than sinking to its vortex. Open my eyes to more lies and help me to forgive them in myself and others so I can transcend them and draw closer to the vision You have for me right now.

I love You; please show your Love to me,

Amen.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

He Wept

These are challenging times in my life. At first, I merely mismanaged the stress in my work environment. That, in turn, exposed some identity questions. Just as soon as I pulled back to uproot those exigencies, a fissure opened in my psycho-spiritual foundation. To put it simply, I am dealing with some fundamental issues of Faith itself, not just the practice of my faith, but especially making the jump from being focused on process to being truly oriented to processes in my life. In the midst of that, I began to unearth ‘the lies’ but my mind has been elsewhere the past few days. Let me take you all back to Tuesday...

...at that moment, I turned away from my Arabic in disgust, again feeling the impetus draining from me. I peppered a chuckle into my sighs to disperse the taste of frustration. The irony, I realized, is that my cravings for promises and permanence provide only temporary relief. What a gas! Not about to explode, I opened the door to my balcony and stepped into the sun light. Chin-ups can be a good way to work off angst but I was already in my work slacks. Instead, I paced to the railing and gazed over our corner of Bethlehem. I intentionally did not look at the split hill next to al-Walaje and the Wall trickling through the cleavage.

A ‘why me?’ moment seized on me like a gust of win. Why, God, would I be chosen to come here and learn the meaning of kairos time and being process-oriented? It seemed as if it would be too late for me, raised in a culture of stimulus and outcomes. Somewhere along the way, I developed a taste for resolution. To stay engaged with ambiguities in my work and relationships has felt, at times, like torture and a mistake. I knew I was progressing but that did not explain why someone else was not in my place. “I want to learn – but my heart is aching so terribly.” In the day since, I have oozed back and forth between two poles: one that insists there are things worth wanting and working toward and the other that joy can only be found in practice and the products are just blessings extra.

As I paced the limestone, I muttered to myself, “maybe I just want to settle and be at peace,” but an unexpected voice from within said, “yes, you want peace – for everyone, but not without justice.”

I bit into that thought and chewed. Turning toward Jerusalem I asked again: “why would You choose someone who wants to see resolution... for an issue like THIS!?” Again, the unexpected voice:

“...because you will keep going, as long as this is unfinished...”

I started weeping profusely. I went on bawling for half-an-hour as I retreated inside and paced between my bedroom and living room making connections. All along, I had been a peace activist at my core but all of the other pieces of me were always in the foreground. The cause of the ‘ambient stress levels’ could not be pin-pointed became clear: the Holy Spirit grieves directly inside that deep part of me. Among many other uncanny ties was the way that Wi’am, just as I arrived, was in the midst of a shift in philosophy from “conflict resolution” to “conflict transformation”. After sixteen years, Zoughbi tired of fixing the same problems with the age-old procedures. Rather than throwing Sulha away for new, less tested methods, Wi’am embraced the practice of transformation within the traditional ways. The word Wi’am means “cordial relations”, not ‘instant solutions’. Here I am: making the transition to transformation, myself.

Israel, as much as Palestine, was showing me things about myself. Israel is grabbing and possessing the land and erecting all kinds of structures to guarantee their wishes, only to ruin the land that might have had them willingly. Promises promises – I wondered if God ever intended promises the way the Old Testament understands them. I appreciated my own blindness just a little bit better: there is no measure I can take to assure this long process will mean success. Seeing myself in the Wall, I found some sadness in my heart for our ‘cousins’. That hit hard:

But as He came closer to Jerusalem and saw the city ahead, he began to weep. “How I wish today that you and all people would understand the way of peace. But now it is too late, and peace is hidden from your eyes.”

~Jesus in Luke 19: 41 – 42 NLT

There was even more than this, though it’s difficult to recall in under a thousand words. Later in the day, I paced around the Wi’am grounds. Every time I began to have a happy-thought about the future I smothered it quickly. My heart wanted this so I could be empty for a few hours, not carrying my wishes. I saw flowers, smelled herbs, felt the sun but let my insides remain in a dark state of nirvana. No turning point was coming, I reminded myself. Playing songs on the deck of a Royal Caribbean Liner or of the Titanic, it did not matter: the score would have to be the same for a while.

But it is starting to sink in. Rather than looking for alternatives, things to believe in, I am starting to leave myself a little more empty. I tried to stop asking myself what I had accomplished and started wondering “what am I doing? Where is this going?”

In lieu of what I would have written a few days ago, I have the image of an olive grove. The reason for having an olive grove would appear to be for olives. Of course, one must care for the trees. I had seen being process-focused as caring for the trees and enjoying their other qualities but, metaphorically speaking, I have remained worried about olives. The point of the olive trees is to have olives but NOT the 2012 olives. Not the 2011 or 2013 olives either. These particular olives matter less than the lives of the trees and their ability to keep making olives, as well as shade and wood. All our lives we worry for particular olive crops when it is the trees that deserve our concern – the trees that carry out the process. I am a steward not of olives but of olive trees ~ that’s what I need to get into my mind.

It also finally sank in that I, as a person, am more important to Wi’am than the work I do. That has made a huge difference to me. I am a tree.