The Christian Presence in the Holy Land

[A version of an address to the United States Southeastern, Southwestern, and Western lieutenancies of the Equestrian Order of  the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem in the Fall of 1989 and to the Northeastern lieutenancy in the Fall of 1990]

The Christian Presence

The characteristic feature of the Order consists of…its obligations toward
the preservation of the Christian presence in Palestine

Concern for Christians

I would like to review with you some obvious facts that many of you know about the Chris­tian presence in Palestine. First of all, traditional Palestine now consists of two areas: about 60% of it constitutes the na­tion of Israel, and about 40%, the so-called “Occu­pied Ter­ri­tories” of the West Bank and Gaza.

Demographics (general). The state of Israel has a popula­tion of about 3,500,000 Jews and about 750,000 Arabs, all of whom are Israeli citi­zens. The overwhelming majority of these Israeli Arabs are Muslims and Druze.
      The so-called “Occu­pied Territo­ries” — that part of traditional Pal­es­tine which has no clear­ly recognized na­tional identity right now — has a Jewish population of about 80,000 people and an Arab population of about 1,750,000.
      In the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, the country on the eastern side of the Jordan Riv­er, there’s an Arab pop­ulation of approx­imately 3,000,000 peo­ple.

Demographics (Christian). The Christians in Israel and the Occu­pied Territories — the entire tradi­tional area of Palestine — come to ap­proxi­mately 125,000 people out of a total pop­ulation of 6,080,000.
      The Christians in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan are only about 25,000 people.in the total population of about 3,000,000.
      Chris­tianity has pret­ty much disap­peared from the Holy Land. It really has.
      Up to now, we have been talking about Christians — that means all flavors of Chris­tiani­ty taken together.
      About a third of these Christians are Roman or Latin Catho­lics and another third are Melkite Greek Catho­lics. There also are small commu­nities of Armenian Catholics, Chaldean Catholics, Coptic Catholics, Ethiopi­an Catholics, Maronite Catho­lics, and Syri­an Catholics.
      Approxi­mately another third of the total number of Christians are members of the Greek Ortho­dox Church and pride themselves as being linear descendants of the original Christian Church the Holy Land. Additionally there are other small Orthodox communities, counterparts of each of the Catholic churches I just mentioned, ex­cept for the Maronites. There is no Or­thodox counterpart to the Maronites; all Maronites are Catholic.

Social condition of Christians. The social condition of Christians is very curious and complex. Chris­tians, of course, are Arabs. And the Ar­abs, in Isra­el prop­er, are definitely a mi­nority in the Jewish State. An Israeli Arab is a citizen of Israel, but in practice, as most would ad­mit, a sort of second class citizen. Arab Christians are a tiny minor­ity among the Arabs in Israel and among the Arabs in the Occupied Territories. The over­whelming majority of Arabs are Mus­lim. So Christians are doubly a minori­ty, and this is a difficult position in which to be.
      Jews and Muslims are fundamental­ly theocratic. As U.S. Christians, we’ve grown up on a diet ­of reli­gious pluralism. We’re accustomed to re­spect for different reli­gions and for the rights of conscience. However in Juda­ism, certainly the Ju­da­ism of the Bible, and in Islam, you have reli­gions which do not separate Church and State, as we’re used to talk­ing about it.
      The State of Israel is a Jewish society. It may be that the ma­jority of Israeli Jews are secular and not obser­vant, but it’s a Jew­ish state, and it’s of the very essence of Israel to be a Jew­ish state.
      In Islam, when the majority of the pop­ulation of a country is Muslim, it gravi­tates to becom­ing an Islamic state. Be­cause in Islam, “church” authority, if you will, and state authority are one.
      Christians then, as doubly a minority, feel very pressured, and yet the Chris­tian Arabs pride themselves, especially in the world of Islam, on being the Arabs most faithful to their roots. Islam, com­ing in the seventh cen­tury, is relatively younger compared to the age of Christiani­ty. The average Arab Chris­tian feels, “My family has been faithful from the begin­ning. It’s my neighbors who have drifted away.”
      There’s another kind of pressure on Chris­tians in the Holy Land right now. That’s the pressure, in the Occu­pied Terri­to­ries, of the Intifada — the uprising — and the reactions to it taken by the occu­py­ing Israeli authori­ties.
      Chris­tians and the general Pales­tinian popula­tion live in a very difficult situa­tion right now, which I think objec­tively can be called a kind of oppression. Let me give you some examples.
      First of all, there are many daily forms of harassment including frequently being stopped and required to show identification or be searched, pass-con­trol of movements, periodic exclusions from entry into Jerusalem or Israel prop­er, arbitrary changes in automobile regu­lations, and the like.
      The curfews which you read about in the papers do not refer to returning home by a certain hour at night. No, curfew means you cannot leave the building in which you reside during the whole twen­ty-four hours of the day of curfew, and this for any reason whatsoev­er.
      In places of extreme heat, with no wa­ter supply or interior toilet facilities, this is very difficult. Extended over several days, it becomes a most severe punish­ment.
      Another cruel and oppressive punish­ment is the sealing or destruction of homes. Typically, in a case where some family member has been involved in an act of rebellion or terror­ism — even a teenager throwing a missile at an army vehicle — the entire family is given a brief notice, sometimes only hours, to vacate their home. The home may be demol­ished by explosives, and the family is forbidden to rebuild on the site.
      Perhaps the worst punishment is ad­minis­trative deten­tion. This refers to a procedure of arresting individuals with­out due process or trail. In thousands of instances, persons are held for up to six months in remote locations, denied visitors or legal counsel, and may not even know the charges against them.
      Another very great affliction for the entire population is the frequent and extended closure of schools. The pre­senting reason for this is security and the maintenance of public order. However, schools at all levels have been closed for a long, long time.
      The en­tire educa­tion­al sys­tem in the West Bank, not Gaza, has been shut down. And it’s only within the last month or two that the elementa­ry and secondary schools have been allow­ed to open.
      The 29th of October, the only Catholic university in the Holy Land, Bethlehem University, which was estab­lished under the strong urging of Pope Paul VI, will have been closed for two years. It was open only one day and for a few hours in two solid years!
      The situation of Christians, as well as that of the general Arab population, in the oc­cupied territories is very difficult. This is not to say that there aren’t difficulties for the Israeli population too, because both the oppressed and the oppressor suffer when such a relation­ship is estab­lished. But I’m just speaking about the Christian population.
      Another thing is happening to the Christian population because of all of these complex pressures of living as a minority in the Jewish state, living as a minority in Islam, living in the midst of the intifada and the repression of the intifada — a lot of peo­ple just can’t take it anymore! They just move away.
      The emigration of Christians is enor­mous. And because the Christians feel ties to the Christian West, it’s easier for them than for the Muslims. There are more people from Beth­lehem, Chris­tians from Bethlehem, liv­ing in Chile, than in Bethlehem! There are Palestinians, both Muslim and Christian, in Australia, South and Central America, Canada, the United States, and parts of Western Europe.

Christian concern . . . concern for all

We’re supposed to be concerned about the Christian presence in the Holy Land. I think the concern we should have is not just con­cern for the Christian community, no matter how grim their plight appears, be­cause that seems, after all, pretty narrow. I think we should have a Chris­tian con­cern for everyone in the Holy Land.

The Good Samaritan parable.  One of the core teachings of the Lord is found in the story of the good Samari­tan. The moral Jesus drew from that story is this: when the Torah says, “Love your neighbor,” it isn’t referring to just the good Jew next door, it’s referring to anybody who crosses your path who’s in need.
      Jesus took the Mosaic commandment and broadened it. So, our obligation as followers of Jesus — above and beyond the obligations of a Knight or Lady of the Holy Sepul­chre — is to be concerned for who­mever is in need.
      In the Holy Land situa­tion, you might say we have a com­mand from the Lord to be concerned, not just about the Chris­tians, but also about the Muslims, and about the Jews.

Pope Pius XII and the PMP.  When Pope Pius XII started the Pon­tifical Mis­sion for Palestine forty years ago, he was concerned about the Pales­tinian refu­gees. He was concerned about this mas­sive displacement of peo­ple — the elderly, the sick, children, peo­ple in camps, peo­ple without homes. It was a movement to give food, shelter, medical supplies, and emergency assis­tance not just to Chris­tians, but to all people.
      As the years moved on, the conflict of the Middle East shifted around, and the situation in Lebanon deteriorated. It was Pope Paul VI who articulated very clearly that this special agency of the Holy Fa­ther’s concern was to take care of people without regard to nationality or religion –need, not creed.
      I think, if the Holy Father, the same Paul VI who revised the constitution of the Order of the Holy Sepulchre, set this goal for the Pontifical Mission, I think he’s saying to you as well, “Your concern for the presence of Christianity is not just the presence of Christians, it’s a Christian presence among the popu­lation in that part of the world.”

Concern for what?

Although we have a Christian concern as well as concern for the Christians, sometimes we think of that Christian concern in very limited ways.

Material concerns. Material concerns are obvious. We’re concerned about food, clothing, shelter, medical assistance — the basic neces­sities — for those in need.

Spiritual concerns. But there’s the inner person that needs nourishing too. There are spiritual concerns. That’s why we’re concerned about building church­es, and concerned about the possibility of worship, and nourishing people’s faith.
      That’s why we’re concerned about building schools and developing the whole human person through educa­tion. And that’s also why we should be concerned about justice and human rights. Because if we’re concerned about the human person, that’s all part of it.

American ideals.  It says, carved in great initials over the entrance to the Supreme Court building in Washington, “Equal Justice Under Law”. The Gospel we heard at Mass today was about the widow woman bothering the corrupt judge. She de­manded jus­tice. And that’s a concern, too.
      It’s a funny dichotomy we have sometimes. As Americans we grow up with equal justice under law. We talk about the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We made the pledge of allegiance today and talked about “under God, with liberty and jus­tice for all.” But, we often shy away from expressing concerns about justice because it seems to be “too political”.
      These are some of the con­cerns that we have to have about people in the Holy Land — about Christian peo­ple, and Jewish people, and Muslim peo­ple.

Justice and Peace

…courageous struggle for justice and peace [is a characteristic virtue] of the Order…

It said in Pope Paul VI’s preface to the con­stitution of the Order, it said that one of the things that should characterize the Knights and Ladies is their engagement in a courageous struggle for jus­tice and peace.
      I’d like to suggest to you that a courageous struggle for justice and peace is perhaps one of the things that you should address personally and col­lectively.

Political versus human concerns

In July, I had the privilege of bringing the bishops’ committee that’s drafting a policy statement on the Middle East, to that area. We were leaving the airport in Tel Aviv and one of the gentlemen from the Israe­li foreign min­istry, who was our liaison with the government while we were there, was talking to me. He said, “You know, Monsignor, that patri­arch in Jerusalem, the Latin patriarch, is really the Palestinian patriarch. He just gets too much into politics.”
      I said, “I don’t think he gets into politics at all. In fact, the patriarch always says, ‘I’m not a politician’.” His stand is that more important than political factors is the human factor. He talks about the rights of human persons. That’s more fundamental than politics. Another thing that Patriarch Sabbah says that’s very beautiful is, “I’m concerned about those who suffer, and if Israelis were the ones suffering the most now, I would be concerned about Israe­lis.”
      The patriarch’s conviction is that the best security for either people in the Holy Land, Arab or Jew, is that each be con­cerned about the security of the other. It’s very easy, even for us, with our Church and State mentality, to think when you start talking about rights or you start talking about justice, that you’re talking about politics, and you’re supposed to keep your mouth shut. Well, politics is one thing and justice is another. In fact, if there’s one thing that’s prayed for right through the Bible, especially the Old Testament, it’s that God will establish justice. And that’s our ulti­mate belief when we talk about the last judgment, that there will be a great balanc­ing out, that God is just.

The violation of rights

One of the most horrible things about the Holy Land right now is the kinds of injustices that are taking place. Let me tell you just a couple of anecdotes of this recent visit with the bishops.

The widow of Nahalin. One day, we went down below Bethlehem to visit a little Arab village called Nahalin. We came off the main road and incidentally on the way saw an Israel vehicle with soldiers with automatic weapons, and about 8 or 10 young Palestinian men squatting at the side of the road, blind­folded with a hood over the head. It was a routine thing — first thing in the morn­ing. I don’t know what they did. They must have done something, or be sus­pected of something. But that’s a typical scene.
      The village of Nahalin is a rocky, little piece of barren ground nestled in the Judean hills. Nearby are several Israel settlements, which had been there be­fore 1967, destroyed and reestablished. They were obviously encroaching upon the fields of the little village. In April, it was the scene of what some would call a massacre and others would say legiti­mate self-defense. We talked to the vil­lage head man, through a translator. He told their version of the story: how Israeli defense forces soldiers had taunted, provoked, and said nasty things about the people in the village, the women especially, until finally there was a reaction and the young people were getting ornery. And then one mor­ning, about four or three o’clock, while the men were just getting ready to go to work and take buses up to Jerusalem, a contingent of Israeli border patrol came into the village. Something happened, guns were fired, and all of a sudden several of the village men were killed.
      The Israeli side of the story says there was a violent uprising and they had to repress it. I don’t know the truth; I just know we walked down a street with the bishops, walked into a little house, where there was a widow with three children. A little deaf boy was sitting on her lap. They sent out to all the neighbors to get some chairs for this little room, which was only about 10 by 10, or maybe 8 by 8. They sat us down and started to tell us a little about the story. And there she was, three children, all by herself this young widowed woman. In fact, if you get our magazine, her picture is on the cover of the issue coming out. She was a victim of the vio­lence of the Intifada and its reaction.

The widower of Alfey Manashe. Right after that, the Israeli government representative said, “You should visit a settlement”. We went to Alfey Manashe. It wasn’t what you might typically imagine as a settlement. It looked like a little piece of a California suburb transplanted to the Judean hills. This beautiful little model town with about 1,200 dwellings, has an Iraqi Jew who was a former Israel Defense Forces lieutenant colonel as its mayor. He was proud as punch to show us around. They had a little country club, well watered grounds around every house, the kids were in a nursery school, It was just like a suburb in the States, maybe like in Texas. It was a won­derful little town.
      And then he introduced us to a man who lived there. The day before Pass­over, he was driving down to the border, going to Israel proper to buy some Ko­sher food to celebrate Passover. He had his wife and two of his children with him. His wife was pregnant. Some Arab threw a Molotov cocktail into his car. It exploded. His pregnant wife and his daughter were burnt to death, and his other child and he were horribly disfig­ured. He’s still going through plastic surgery. But he spoke rather tranquilly about it. And that little Israeli settlement in the West Bank had a monument to commemorate this tragic death.
      It was only twenty-four hours after we were sitting in the widow’s home in Nahalin that we were talk­ing to the widower in Alfey Manashe.

The threatened children of Kibbutz Menara.  The Israeli government took the bishops up to the north on the Lebanese border. We visited a kibbutz, one of those socialist collectives that started right after the turning of the century. In fact, one of its founding members was Rachael Rabin, the sister of the minister of defense, the one in charge of all of this West Bank activity.
      They showed us around the kibbutz. It’s just literally a few hundred feet from the border with Lebanon, which is high­ly fortified. They showed us their bomb shelters next to the classrooms where they can put the kids underground in case rockets come over, because for years rockets were fired from Syria and Lebanon into this kibbutz.
      And they’re still afraid because every now and then a Palestinian infiltrator will try to cross the Lebanese border, although the border is heavily patrolled by Israeli soldiers. They’re afraid of terrorists. They’re afraid for their kids. And, their fear is right! It’s painful to see.

The wounded youth in Gaza.  The next day we went down to Gaza. We went into a small hospital. There was a doctor treat­ing a young man of about seventeen for a gun wound in his leg.  He was recovering nicely. We asked him what he had to talk about. And with a spontaneous eloquence that would have done anybody proud, he started to talk about how hap­py he was to fight and die for his (Arab) people, and how they must be free, and have their own land and leaders.

The stance of the bishops’ statement

It’s such a set of contrasts. The bishops in the statement they’re preparing, (and there’s a little bit of news about it in the paper and there will be lot more when all the bishops get together in Baltimore to talk about it) tried to juggle this matter of rights and justice.

Israeli rights. The statement says that Israel has a right to live in security. It can’t go on like this — not officially being recognized as a country, infiltrators trying to break in. The Israelis are terribly, terribly inse­cure. They have a right to be recognized, to be established in the family of nations, a right to be in the United Nations, and they have a right to be free from terror­ism.

Palestinian rights. The bishops’ state­ment also proposes to talk about the rights of Palestinians.  They have a right to have a homeland. They have a right to self-determination. They have a right some day to have sovereignty, if that’s what they opt for. 

No absolute rights. The problem with rights is that nobody has an abso­lute right. Everybody’s right is a compro­mise. Everybody has to respect the other per­son’s right.
      The Israelis have to learn to respect the rights of Palestinians. Palestinians have to learn to respect the rights of Israelis. They have to live as neighbors. And we shouldn’t be bashful to enter into the crossfire because we can and should speak about rights.

Men and women of affluence and influence

Once, when Russell Kendall was telling me about the Order of the Holy Sepulchre and that as the successor of Bishop Nolan I have to get involved and have wonderful opportunities like this to talk to the Knights and Ladies, he said, “You know, these people are people who have served the Church and they are also men and women of affluence and influence.”

Sharing of your affluence

I think that one of the things that the Knights and Ladies do very well is share, if you will, of their affluence. They have a great gener­osity to help the Church in the Holy Land especially. It’s a wonder­ful work that’s done.

Sharing of your influence

But, I wonder sometimes if we share as much with our influence as with our affluence. After all, if we’re called by the Pope to be responsible for a Chris­tian presence and Christian values, and a Christian approach to solutions, in the Holy Land, not just keeping the Christians there, and if we have a man­date from the Lord to love our neighbor, I think we have an obligation to influ­ence the establishment of justice and peace in the Holy Land.
      At the end of the XI century when Urban II called for a crusade, he was concerned about the condition of the Holy Land and the freedom of Christians to worship there. The solution was to send the me­dieval knights as armies to do something about it.
      The situation now is that the Holy Father, and I presume the bishops of the United States too, if they’re sup­portive of the work that the committee is doing, are going to be calling for our concern for justice and peace in the Holy Land. And. we’re called, as the constitu­tion says, to be in the struggle for justice and peace, not by fighting — don’t put your suit of armor on – -but by using your influence, speaking up as American citizens to influence the deci­sions made by public leaders and the policy of the United States. Let’s face it. The United States is the major player in the Israel-Palestinian situation. Almost four billion dollars a year, al­most half of U.S. foreign aid, is for Israel and the other half pretty much right now is for Egypt, which is interest­ing enough.
      But, one of the things that we should be doing is influencing, using the talents we have and the convictions we have, to affect what our country is doing. Be­cause our country holds the cards in the Middle East. So, in a sense, it means lobbying, trying to impact what legislators think and do. It means informing other peo­ple. It means becoming informed your­self. It means generally contributing to education about the Middle East, espe­cially about justice in the Middle East.
      You are incredibly generous with your affluence. And, my appeal to you tonight is to be equally generous with your influ­ence.

Blessed are the peacemakers

Re­member, one of the things that Jesus said when he was preaching to his followers on the Mount of Beatitudes was, “Blessed are the peacemakers, they shall be called God’s children”. May they include all of you!