Into the Firing Zone
I learned that my friend, Mark, died when I was in the South Hebron Hills of Palestine last week. I was walking into Firing Zone 918 with a delegation from Christian Peacemaker Teams, into land that was taken by the military for training purposes, but was still the home of several thousand rural Palestinian farmers.
Mark’s friends called me in the firing zone, and told me that at his death he was surrounded by friends who loved and held him as he passed to the other side.
Mark was a theatre professor, and a brilliant man. A few years ago, he directed a version of the play, “My Name is Rachel Corrie,” based on Corrie’s journals. Rachel Corrie was a student and member of the International Solidarity Movement, a group that opposed the demolition of Palestinian homes in the West Bank and Gaza strip. She put her body in front of a bulldozer, acting as a human shield against the destruction of a Palestinian home, and was killed.
After the tears of the news subsided, I lifted my head up and saw the beautiful desert landscape. The hills of South Hebron were stunning, especially as the sun was setting. The colors of the sky were transformed from blue to bright pink, orange and yellow. The distant sun reflected off the rocks, and they sparkled.
All along the bumpy path of the firing zone were ebenezers, places where people had stacked rocks to show the way. Some were regal and solitary, and others were short and seemed to multiply along the side of the path towards the tiny village of Al Fahkeet.
I saw these markers on the way, and thought of Mark’s journey toward shalom, towards wholeness and completeness after a long period of illness. All was being made clear for Mark now, and he could rest at his journey’s end.
Our journey in life is a journey toward shalom–towards ultimate peace and wholeness. And all along that journey we meet people that show us the way. Sometimes they are landmark people–they are those big markers on our journey. Sometimes they are among a group of people that leave smaller markers on the path. But everyone we meet has the potential to change us.
So, it seemed appropriate (and perhaps a little funny) that I was walking through a military firing zone in the West Bank of Palestine, a place that Rachel Corrie loved, a place that Mark taught me about in his art.
The trip to the beautifully dangerous Firing Zone 918 has changed me. And so has my friend Mark. Both have told me of the good and terrifying things of life–the beauty of the landscape ahead, and the danger of violence and oppression. So, what else could I do but place my own ebeneezer on the trail? I left a vibrant bracelet in an olive tree, a colorful sign of hope for the next traveler on this rocky path that says, “You are not alone, friend. You are going the right way. Sometimes the hard way is the most illuminating.”
The Journey of Discipleship
In nine days I travel with a few friends from church to a Christian Peacemaker Teams delegation to Israel/Palestine. It’s not your typical tour of the Holy Lands–not by any stretch. It’s a trip to listen to stories of Palestinian and Israeli peacemakers, stand in solidarity with the oppressed, and to stand in the way of violence done to children trying to get to school or farmers trying to tend their centuries old family olive gardens.
I’ve felt called to take this trip for some time. But, I’ve held back because I wanted consent from my partner and my children. So, last summer, I sat down with my family and I asked for their blessing. I wouldn’t go unless I had it.
We talked about the risks, about why I felt called to do it, and about how long I’d be gone. And over the course of the next several weeks, my partner and children blessed my call to the Middle East.
But they did more than just bless the trip–they actively contributed to the fundraising efforts. They helped with the silent auction, contributing artwork, music, and poetry to the event. They helped with setup and clean up from the event. They also–to my delight–have helped me prepare for the trip–taking trips to the thrift store to help me find clothing suitable for the climate and the culture, and helping me learn more about the country by reading maps with me.
This is one of those times when I realize that my children are beginning to understand this concept of discipleship. It is taking me to places I never thought I’d go, and it’s shown them that risk is part of the journey we take when we walk with Jesus.
This journey of discipleship does not mean that none of us aren’t concerned about this trip. They know there is risk involved. Which makes their consent and their blessing all the more powerful.
As our children grow, they will learn that the stories of Jesus call us to risk, to stand up, and to be in places that stretch us. And, as parents, we model that. We model discipleship, just as Jesus modeled it. It’s going to look different for all of us in each of our contexts, but when our kids see us taking risks and standing up for others, it gives them courage to do the same.
I don’t what what this trip to the Holy Lands will hold for me, but I know I’ll be changed by what I experience there. Lord knows my kids are already changed by blessing my journey.
Blessed be all our children, who watch and walk with us, as we take this journey of discipleship.