After recognizing this, it should have come as no surprise to me that I am but a Middle East baby, one who wakes up each day and resumes the business of learning how to crawl. And one day, I just may shock you with that first word slipping through my lips. I am swimming in a world of challenges, of surprises and adventures, of wisdom and folly. There will always be an endless supply of new discoveries awaiting me in this land, and this week proved no different. Except this time brought with it a true revelation, a baby who skips the awkward stumbles of first steps and heads straight for running marathons.
By nature, I am a political individual. I have never bought the arguments that religion is apolitical, or vice-versa. By extension, the realms of faith and politics are interconnected and, if the influence moves from the former to the latter, politics can be an appropriate forum for expression of one's religious commitment. My time here in Israel, however, has tempered my hope about the highest of achievements which politics is capable of. I have now come to see the political process, in general, in a light similar to Thomas Friedman's characterization of the Israeli-Palestinian crisis: that of "a bad play . . . [in which] all the parties are just acting out the same old scenes, with the same old tired clichés—and that no one believes any of it anymore."
My revelation, however, descended much deeper than that. In truth, I have missed for so many years the point of peace altogether. A reading of Ezekiel 36 spins the clarity dial bringing the picture back into focus. Peace is not about us. It is not about us living comfortably together, or strengthening our economies. It is not about Nobel Peace Prize winners (or posers). Nor is it about cease-fires or even justice, though all these things have their place. It is about restoring God's name to its rightful, holy place in the world.
"This is what the Sovereign LORD says: It is not for your sake, O house of Israel, that I am going to do these things [to raise you up], but for the sake of my holy name, which you have profaned among the nations where you have gone. I will show the holiness of my great name, which has been profaned among the nations, the name you have profaned among them. Then the nations will know that I am the LORD, declares the Sovereign LORD, when I show myself holy through you before their eyes." (Ezek. 36:22-23)The Jewish people, as God's 'Segula,' or treasure box, must grapple with the meaning of their covenant with God in the midst of their current state of power; they must strive to keep his commands and to uplift the name of God through unrivaled justice and mercy. Speaking to Israel, God says "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws." (Ezek. 36:26-27)
Peace, then, cannot come without a focus on God, whether explicit or implicit. To do so would deprive his name of the glory it deserves. Politics can continue to negotiate processes for peace in this land, some of which may even achieve minor gains. But as long as those 'road-maps' circumvent the God to whom this Holy Land really belongs, I believe we are all hoping for that same 'bad play' we have seen before to end differently this time. The public square has its place in the Christian heart, and political discourse its merit. The conflict we face, however—the one that I wake up to every day and work at a few more baby steps—demands more of us than solid political arguments. It demands that our eyes be pointed upward. Romeo's famous Shakespearean question comes to mind. "What's in a name?" In fact, never has a name meant so much. . .
I like this. The end : )
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