"Even the stones would shout out" : Reflection for the EAPPI handover, Redeemer Church, Jerusalem

 

"Even the stones would shout out"

Reflection for EAPPI handover

(Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel)

11 April 2022

Redeemer Church, Jerusalem

The Rev. Carrie Ballenger

 

As you know, yesterday was Palm Sunday, the beginning of Christian Holy Week. Here in Jerusalem, thousands of people observed the day by gathering on the Mt of Olives at Bethany, and then walking together down the mountain toward the Old City of Jerusalem, reenacting Jesus’ own entry into Jerusalem before his crucifixion.

Along the way there was singing, there was dancing, there were shouts of “hosanna” and…a few days early, at least by the liturgical calendar…we heard the “A” word. (shh…Alleluia!)

But also, there were flags and banners. Each year, people come to Jerusalem to honor the death and resurrection of Jesus in the very place where it happened. These Christians from around the world want to represent themselves, their churches, and their homelands, and so they come singing their own songs and carrying their own flags, which they wave as they sing.

I would say that most of the time, I’m very uncomfortable with the mixing of religious and national identities. But I see that it comes from a desire to show that the Good News has truly been shared from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth…and now it has come back to the city, spoken in diverse languages and embodied by people of every color, shape, size, age, and gender. It is truly a beautiful thing! Thanks be to God.

Except for one thing.

Local Palestinian Christians are not allowed to carry their flag as they sing “hosanna”. If they do, the soldiers assigned to police the Palm Sunday procession will rip them out of their hands.

I didn’t see this happen this year, thanks be to God. But when it happens, it’s a violent disruption in what is otherwise a peaceful and joyful religious celebration. It shows just how deep the fear is in this place, that the state would be so worried about seeing a Palestinian flag flown among many others in an ecumenical, international, religious ritual.

But hear these words from the Gospel according to Luke, describing the first Palm Sunday:

36As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. 37As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, 38saying,

 “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!

 Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!”

39Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” 40He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”

 

I tell you, if these were silent the stones would shout out.

A Palestinian colleague shared with me the other day that during the last intifada, Palestinians were not allowed to wear the colors of the flag, much less carry it, and so they were creative. She told me they would cut a watermelon in half and carry it above their heads, thereby proudly sharing the green of the watermelon rind, the white of the inner rind, the red of its flesh, and the black of the seeds—all the colors of Palestine. And who could stop them from carrying a watermelon, even if it did share the colors of the national flag?

I tell you, if these were silent the stones would shout out.

There are so many other stories to be shared about the resistance of the Palestinian people in the face of state aggression. I hear in their stories echoes of what happened to Jesus. To be clear, especially as we enter this Holy Week and hear the Scripture texts about Holy Thursday and Good Friday, about Gethsemane and Golgotha: Jesus wasn’t killed by “the Jews”. He was killed by state authorities. He was killed by those who were afraid he was encouraging the masses to challenge unjust systems. He was killed by those who wanted to keep their seats of power, and who saw his message of inclusion, welcome, and liberation as a threat to the empire.

Of course, we know that Jesus’ death on Good Friday was not the end of the story. The cross, the tomb, occupation, terrorism, war, the measures of any empire…they are never the end of the story.

There is a phrase that has become famous in recent years among political liberation movements which goes like this:
“They tried to bury us. They didn’t know we were seeds.”

Some have attributed this to be a Mexican proverb, most likely because it was adopted by liberation movements in Mexico. However, this powerful phrase was actually adapted from the Greek poet Dinos Christianopoulos, who was ostracized from the literary community in the 1970’s because he was a gay man. His original phrase of poetry is even stronger. He wrote (in translation):

“What didn’t you do to bury me. But you forgot I was a seed.”

What didn’t you do…

Friends, what didn’t they do to silence the peacemakers?

What didn’t they do to try and bury hope?

What didn’t they do to bury a future in which Israelis and Palestinians, Christians, Muslims, Jews, Druze, and those of no faith can live side by side in safety and security, with equal rights and equal responsibilities?

What didn’t they do? But they forgot we were seeds. They forgot that we would grow. They forgot about the many Israelis who would join in the struggle for a better future for this land. They forgot about the international community that would not remain silent. They forgot about resurrection.

And I tell you, if these were silent the stones would shout out.

Dear friends, God bless you in your going out and your coming in. Thank you for your passion for justice, for your time among us, for the kindness you show to the people of this land. May God keep you safe. And may you be the stones shouting for peace, for justice, for love, and for resurrection, in this land, and everywhere in the world.

May the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.