I just came back from the holy land. It was my first time there and, quite frankly, I never really had a drive to go. It was a meaningful trip, and I had a great time with friends. But I did not see God, feel the heat of the burning bush, walk down the path Christ walked or anything like that. In fact, the only thing that was “holy” were my pockets from a bad euro exchange and my stomach from a bad hummus exchange.
Make no mistake, I support the fact that there is a Jewish state as a practical matter and the unfortunate reality that even in our modern day society there needs to be a safe haven. I even thought it was fascinating in many respects.
From a historical view (though I’m not a history buff), it was filled with stories and proof of how civilizations conquered each other; how the fight for fresh water did not start with Evian; how the church –whatever it was called – always went to the top of the hill; and the “pimp your cathedral” game was really foreshadowing Reagan’s materialism in the 80’s, simply swapping Basilicas for BMW’s. From a Biblical view (though I’m not an organized religion buff), it was filled with a bunch of stories about some pretty important stuff that happened there, even if I still choose to believe that Mary was not a virgin and Abraham didn’t really sacrifice a son. That being said, I do believe Herod knew how to party.
It was a land of separation instead of unity. Rather than being embraced in a blanket of freedom, there were constant reminders of where you should walk, who you should talk to, how you should dress, and who was allowed to do what and when they were allowed to do it. Making a left meant you were in the Arab quarter. Making a right meant you had to bow down to Jesus in his final resting place. Going straight meant you were headed for the Armenian quarter. Standing on the Golan Heights, one is reminded by bunkers that Syria, Lebanon and Jordan are staring at us every minute of the day. It was painfully quiet, though, as if this was a moment of rest between conflicts rather than at the end of them. Again, unfortunate, but a Middle East reality.
In some ways, the conflict between nations was not surprising to me. What was surprising was the conflict between people…specifically, the conflict within the Jews. With thousands of years of persecution as a historical proof point, it seems like complete idiocracy that we cannot even find peace within ourselves. The ultra orthodox think the modern orthodox are less important citizens, and that the secular Jews are not even Jews. Women have essentially no spiritual cred and (as a Father of girls) I think that is ridiculous. While some see Israel as the embodiment of the best of us, I also see it as what is the worst of us.
Taking a step back, one has to realize that if there is a God, active or not, and he has a master plan, don’t you think he would be pissed off at all the odd interpretations of the plan? In the end, proven by the 33 consecutive meals involving chickpeas, we are more alike than we are different. Yet the center of our differences is the lines of unproven faith that have been drawn by other humans. If there was an answer good enough for one people, wouldn’t it make sense to share it with all people?
Despite the fact that this post may offend people of all religions, don’t you think it is about time we dropped our claims of distinction and realize that we are all wrong in the quest of some to prove they are right? Let’s embrace what we have in common and give (chick)peas a chance.
