Pointing to peace

Pope Benedict’s visit to the Holy Land addressed the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, nurtured local Catholics and skirted an interfaith controversy.

Discussing Pope Benedict XVI’s visit to the Middle East in May, Papal Nuncio Archbishop Antonio Franco didn’t mince words: “It’s a highly perilous visit, basically impossible to handle with even a modicum of ease.”

And, sure enough, dramatic turns of events followed each other in rapid fire, together with impromptu statements, bursts of outrage, but yet with timeless images.

Departing from Tel Aviv, Benedict reminisced about “fruitful discussions with the civil authorities both in Israel and in the Palestinian territories,” his encounters with Catholics and other Christians, and meetings with people of other faiths. These components of his trip seemed to me three keys with which to read the papal trip.

Benedict XVI stated his approach to peace in the Middle East on his May 8 flight to Jordan’s capital, Amman. First, he said, “as believers we are convinced that prayer is a real force: it opens the world to God.” Second, “we are seeking to assist in the formation of consciences.” Third, “we can appeal to reason.”

At the al-Hussein bin Talal mosque in Amman the following day, he proposed that “genuine adherence to religion — far from narrowing our minds — widens the horizon of human understanding.” A few hours earlier, at the blessing of the cornerstone of Madaba University, he had stated unequivocally: “Religion is disfigured when pressed into the service of ignorance or prejudice, contempt, violence and abuse.”

He addressed himself to Jews, Muslims and Christians. When he visited the ancient Basilica on Mount Nebo, from which Moses contemplated the Holy Land from afar, he said: “The ancient tradition of pilgrimage to the holy places reminds us of the inseparable bond between the Church and the Jewish people.”

He asserted his belief in Christians’ essential bond with their Middle Eastern brothers and sisters at the al-Hussein bin Talal mosque as well: “Muslims and Christians, precisely because of the burden of our common history so often marked by misunderstanding, must today strive to be known and recognized as worshippers of God and faithful to prayer … ever mindful of the common origin and dignity of all human persons, apex of God’s creative design for the world and for history.”

Finally, on May 10 in the stadium in Amman, he addressed words of hope to all Christians: “May the courage of Christ our shepherd inspire and sustain you daily in your efforts to bear witness to the Christian faith and to maintain the Church’s presence in the changing social fabric of these ancient lands.”

Two-state solution
Without a doubt, the most difficult part of Benedict’s trip concerned the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The pope showed both great firmness and great openness. He repeated several times that he “came to visit this country as a friend of the Israelis, just as I am a friend of the Palestinian people,” but he also resoundingly declared his wish that the conflict between these two peoples reach a prompt and just resolution.

“Let it be universally recognized that the state of Israel has the right to exist and to enjoy peace and security within internationally agreed borders,” he said. “Let it be likewise acknowledged that the Palestinian people have a right to a sovereign independent homeland, to live with dignity and to travel freely. Let the two-state solution become a reality, not remain a dream.”

At the same time, the pope never spoke against anyone. He always pointed toward peace, frequently quoting John Paul II. “Friends enjoy spending time in one another’s company, and they find it deeply distressing to see one another suffer,” he said. “No friend of the Israelis and the Palestinians can fail to … weep at the suffering and loss of life that both peoples have endured over the last six decades.”

His appeal repeated words used so many times by his predecessor: “No more bloodshed! No more fighting! No more terrorism! No more war! Let there be lasting peace based on justice, let there be genuine reconciliation and healing.”

Minority within a minority
The Rock family is as tough as the name suggests. An Arab Catholic teacher, Marlene Rock is married to Hana, a refugee from Ein Kerem, the place where Mary went to visit Elizabeth, now an Israeli town. Marlene and Hana have four children and live in a simple but pleasant house in Palestine.

Hana’s story is emblematic of the complexities of the Holy Land: “In 1948, I was two when we were forced to leave and go to Bethlehem. When I returned later to Ein Kerem, an Israeli family was living there that had purchased our house from the government.” He pauses, looking for the right words. “My roots are there, but it’s nice that we made another family happy, you know?” Then he adds, “We also owned seven hectares in the Jerusalem Forest. Now the Holocaust Museum, Yad Vashem, is there — another expropriation about which I feel no anger; I’m glad that something important is built there.”

Middle Eastern Catholicism can also be complex, and their son Joseph tells me: “My fiancée and I were chosen to bring the offerings to the altar during the pope’s Mass. I am extremely happy, but I would have been even happier if the pope had chosen to go and say Mass in Gaza.” His brother Michael doesn’t share his view: “He didn’t have to go there. This was meant as a pilgrimage to the places of Jesus’ life, though the Christians here were not prepared for it. The visit was discussed more on TV than in churches.”

I asked Marlene if she feels like a minority within a minority. “Yes, but I prefer to look at it as a glass half full,” she said. “Jesus never complained about the size of his ‘small flock.’ He looked at people and things positively. We are both Christians and Palestinians. The pope is a great support for us. He shows us that we must not hate anyone but have feelings of brotherhood toward everyone.”

Considering that many Christians have emigrated in the hope of finding greater security and better prospects elsewhere, Marlene and her family give a sense of the Catholic population met by the pope. In the course of the papal visit, however, things visibly evolved. The Mass he celebrated in the Garden of Gethsemane in Jerusalem the day after his arrival was attended by less than 6,000 people, a number that included very few locals. The following day in Bethlehem, just six miles south of Jerusalem but already in the West Bank, things had already changed: the crowd numbered at least 10,000, and more than half were local Christians with representatives from Gaza and a good Muslim presence. At the Mass held in Nazareth May 14, the crowd was 40,000 strong.

While civil and religious authorities looked forward to the papal visit, Catholics, worried about their future, were nervous. Their experience in the last few decades has taught them that any change to the status quo feels like a threat to them. By the end, though, the pope seemed able to earn the trust of his ‘small flock.’

He encouraged them “to remain in the land that Christ sanctified with his own presence. It is essential that you should be united among yourselves, so that the Church in the Holy Land can be clearly recognized as a sign and instrument of communion with God and of the unity of the entire human race.”

Interfaith adventures
The interreligious meeting the pope held in Jerusalem on May 11, the day of his arrival, after his visit to the Yad Vashem Memorial, wasn’t what one would call an auspicious beginning.

“Our differences need never be misrepresented as an inevitable source of friction or tension,” he said in his talk. “Rather, they provide a wonderful opportunity for people of different religions to live together in profound respect, esteem and appreciation.”

Sheikh Taysir al-Tamimi, head of the Islamic Supreme Court in the Palestinian territories, then launched into a vehement, unscheduled tirade that denounced in no uncertain terms the State of Israel and the abuses suffered by the Palestinians. There was no translation available, and the pope could not understand the Arabic, although he gathered from the sheikh’s tone and people’s reactions that things were not going well. He bid everyone good-bye, shook sheikh Al-Tamini’s hand, and left. A spokesman for the Holy See later denounced the impromptu speech as “a direct negation of what dialogue should be.”

It could have been the beginning of a catastrophe, but it wasn’t. At the buffet afterward Christians, Muslims and Jews mingled peacefully and discussed the event calmly and reasonably, indicating that occurrences of this kind are not entirely out of the ordinary in the Holy Land. There was also a climate of understanding and conciliation among the attendees.
Rabbi David Rosen, a prominent figure in the international interfaith community, captured this spirit when he said: “You can’t dialogue if you bury your head in the sand. You need to look the other person in the eye, not only with the aid of your faith, but also with the participation of your reason.”

At another interfaith meeting in Nazareth a few days later, Rabbi Rosen grabbed the pope’s hand and held it high, inviting the pope to do the same with Sheik Muafek Tarif, the Druze spiritual leader in Israel, on his other side. At the end, it is this image that will live on in history’s memory.

From an interview with Archbishop Antonio Franco, papal nuncio to Jerusalem, after the pope’s visit:

“Everyone expected something from the pope because all parts to the conflict in the Middle East – Israelis and Palestinians, Jews, Arabs and Christians – are in a state of great discouragement, especially after the failure of the Annapolis proposal [November 2007]. Benedict XVI’s presence seems to have breathed new hope into the political, religious and social dilemmas that afflict this area. The pope had an encouraging word for everyone: he showed that it is possible to trust each other’s good will.”