God TV ran an excellent review of the anti-Semitism in Germany which led to the Holocaust. Excellent, that is, until it seamlessly moved to compare the suffering of the Jews in Europe then to what "poor" Israel is experiencing now.
The dishonesty of the TV programme producers was subtle and astonishing. If I hadn't been reading (not during the programme!) an Israeli historian's account of how the State of Israel was created, I would have been quite deceived and thought, Yes, the Jews are still suffering in the same way.
But this book shows that as far back as the early 1930's, the few Jews then in Palestine planned to clear the whole of Mandated Palestine of the native population. With the help of a British Officer, Orde Wingate, the Hagana was transformed into an effective fighting force, the aim of which was to ensure a totally Jewish state. At that time, only about 6% of the land was owned by Jews, but that didn't deter David Ben-Gurion who said, in 1938, "I'm for compulsory transfer; I do not see anything immoral in it."
The book then outlines - remember this is an Israeli historian writing- the whole plan to ethnically cleanse the land. When the British left, the newly created Israeli Army used the Communist party's links with the Soviets to import heavy arms and ammunition from Czechoslovakia and the Soviet Union and set about clearing villages and dispersing the Palestinians - many were killed in the process.
What the newly self-declared State of Israel (quickly recognised by the Soviet Union and the USA) did, and continues to do, is quite illegal. Can Christians really support what we know to be wrong?
The writer compares this with the ethnic cleansing during the Bosnian War which rightly provoked outrage, intervention by NATO and trials in the Hague. But what happened in Palestine is shrugged off, and we are supposed to feel sorry for the perpetrators, not the sufferers.
The book is The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine by Ilan Pappe.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Friday, November 20, 2009
This can't be right.
The bus was quite full when it stopped at the terminus. I sat waiting until I could stand and saw a woman holding her baby struggling to get off. From the window I saw her older son get off first and she handed the baby to him while she got her bags off. I saw the son take the baby like a doll, innocently put it on the ground and turn to help his mother. To my dismay I saw the baby roll over so that its face was in a puddle. No one noticed except me and I couldn't say a word.
I woke up in dismay. Why couldn't I yell out and warn them? I tried to convince myself that the 'baby' really was a doll, but failed.
Before going to bed I'd seen a disturbing video of a diner in a Chinese restaurant tucking into a fish that was clearly still alive. But that was nothing compared to another where the meal was an aborted baby; gravy and all. Another report spoke of a Chinese doctor who regularly ate tiny foetuses “for her health; they'd be thrown away anyway”.
Were these pictures and stories true or manipulated to shock the viewer? Was the report of that doctor's 'vitamin supplement' just an urban myth? If the aim was to shock me, shock me into what? Was it some anti-Chinese propaganda to demonstrate what a dreadful, primitive, cannibalistic culture was China and that Obama should be confronting them, not doing business with them?
For me, though, real or false, they and my dream have brought me face to face with the knowledge that I'm keeping silent when atrocities as bad as anything the Nazis were responsible for are now being commited on the innocent with impunity. What is the legal nicety that distinguishes eating a foetus from using one for stem cell research? 'They'd just be thrown away'. One apparently is a food supplement; the other promises a cure for many intractable diseases. So was it logical to be upset by one and not the other? Why did I want to vomit at the sight of a tiny baby on a dinner plate and not by the thought of a baby's brains being sucked out during a partial-birth abortion?
Why? Because one is hidden behind the clinical screen of a doctor's surgery or research laboratory; the other stares us in the face and we can't ignore it. I know that there's an argument about when human life starts but I'm not convinced that any of us can say without a shadow of doubt when that is. Amnesty, which I support in other areas of its work, dares to use “Protecting the Human” as it's motto, while advocating abortion rights.
I woke up in dismay. Why couldn't I yell out and warn them? I tried to convince myself that the 'baby' really was a doll, but failed.
Before going to bed I'd seen a disturbing video of a diner in a Chinese restaurant tucking into a fish that was clearly still alive. But that was nothing compared to another where the meal was an aborted baby; gravy and all. Another report spoke of a Chinese doctor who regularly ate tiny foetuses “for her health; they'd be thrown away anyway”.
Were these pictures and stories true or manipulated to shock the viewer? Was the report of that doctor's 'vitamin supplement' just an urban myth? If the aim was to shock me, shock me into what? Was it some anti-Chinese propaganda to demonstrate what a dreadful, primitive, cannibalistic culture was China and that Obama should be confronting them, not doing business with them?
For me, though, real or false, they and my dream have brought me face to face with the knowledge that I'm keeping silent when atrocities as bad as anything the Nazis were responsible for are now being commited on the innocent with impunity. What is the legal nicety that distinguishes eating a foetus from using one for stem cell research? 'They'd just be thrown away'. One apparently is a food supplement; the other promises a cure for many intractable diseases. So was it logical to be upset by one and not the other? Why did I want to vomit at the sight of a tiny baby on a dinner plate and not by the thought of a baby's brains being sucked out during a partial-birth abortion?
Why? Because one is hidden behind the clinical screen of a doctor's surgery or research laboratory; the other stares us in the face and we can't ignore it. I know that there's an argument about when human life starts but I'm not convinced that any of us can say without a shadow of doubt when that is. Amnesty, which I support in other areas of its work, dares to use “Protecting the Human” as it's motto, while advocating abortion rights.
With over 1,000 terminations each year in Finland and hundreds of thousands elsewhere, abortion is seen as a human right. I (and many others) have been conditioned by the drive to self-assertion, a twisted concept of human rights. There is no such thing as community, argued Margaret Thatcher; only individuals. And so I decide what's good for me and (we don't quite say) 'to hell with the rest'.
Men won't even bother to argue the case; a woman claims that it's her body and it's no one else's business what she decides what to do with it. “If I want to marry and have children I will; and if I want to stay single or have a lesbian relationship I know many a man who'd oblige to satisfy any maternal instincts. If the pregnancy's inconvenient for my career I'll abort it. And, by the way, haven't you noticed, my mother is getting to be such a nuisance in her old age? She often doesn't recognise me anyway. She already thinks she's a burden so she'll agree to our assisting in her suicide all right. We can put her money to such better use.”
But, you say, human beings are not like that? There's something else; something good in us; we're repelled by evil; we love and we love being loved; we need others and will even die for them. We're drawn to beauty. We delight in a baby and want to build a better world, a society where that new human being can thrive and be loved and love.
Yes. And why are we like that? Because of God, and Jesus who shows us what God is like. Not self-serving, but self-giving and we were created to be like him.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Awakening in Paphos
On our first visit to Paphos. my wife and I had driven through the town, aware only of the football-addicted tourists in Kato Paphos, congratulating ourselves that we'd not chosen to spend our holiday there, and then succumbing to a taste of luxury with tea and cakes by a five-star hotel pool.
Yes, we had poked our noses into the mosaic house but, tired tourists as we were, we hadn't even tried to savour the aroma of history that has persisted in Paphos and its hinterland for thousands of years. It needed the invitation and enthusiasm of new friends to awaken my dulled senses.
They took us first to Kourion where it was not long before the sophistication of the buildings, mosaics and air conditioning system began to humble me. With the backdrop of a stunning, commanding view over sea and land, one friend delighted us by demonstrating the superb acoustics of the amphitheatre; he sang, O Holy Night.
My hardened soul began, as it were, to crumble as I became aware of another fact, nay, another dimension. To my shame I had quite forgotten that Paul and Barnabas had begun their first missionary journey on Cyprus. Tradition has it that the two missionaries fled to Kourion when Paphos became too dangerous for them.
I “woke up”. I found myself no longer a tourist but a pilgrim. At the time I didn't express my feelings in those, perhaps pompous terms; all I knew was that my whole perception and appreciation of what I was seeing and treading on was changing. I didn't understand, but change there was.
We moved on into Paphos, the Kato Paphos that Vieno and I had ignorantly dismissed as a den of tourists, and found ourselves in the ancient Orthodox Church by St. Paul's Pillar, (Anglicans, Catholics and Lutherans also worship there). Paul is reputed to have been whipped at a stone pillar that is now surrounded by the ruins of the 4th C Basilica and a Gothic church.
A new sense of continuity with the past, with the early Church, began to seep into my consciousness. Landing in Salamis, Paul and Barnabas had preached the length of the island and sailed to Turkey from the harbour 200 meters away.
Luke doesn't record either Paul's whipping here or his fleeing to Kourion. But, then, Acts tells of only two encounters on the island. But there in Paphos – indeed all over Cyprus – are churches no doubt planted by or as a result of the two missionaries' work.
Perhaps I felt the impact so intensely because I had been reading the Early Christian Writings of St Clement, Ignatius and Polycarp. Perhaps it was because of my recently awakened realisation that Christianity hadn't begun with Calvin and Luther! I felt 'grounded' in my faith as never before.
Somehow, this awareness was of a different order from that which I experienced in Israel. Yes, my imagination was illumined and my faith strengthened where Jesus had walked. But only in Paphos did I realise that I had missed the continuity from Jesus and his life, death, resurrection and Ascension to the church today; to me, today.
There on Cyprus where, compared with Turkey, the Christian faith still thrives, after thousands of years, I was part of the whole company of saints who have trod this way. There, where it is often difficult to understand and partake in Orthodox worship, there was continuity, a clear unbroken line from Jesus to me.
Two days later, our Greek Cypriot neighbours told us about the Turkish invasion in 1974. John and Irene had only recently moved from Britain to re-settle in their homeland, near Kyrenia on the north coast. John's new car showroom was doing well and they had their first baby when the invasion began. John asked the British why they didn't stop the Turks; they had orders not to resist. John, Irene and their ten week old child joined the mass exodus as the Turks forced them to head south. Thirty years on, the pain is still deep; their house is now occupied by Turks. The Orthodox Churches there have been destroyed, some being used as stables and urinals. Priceless paintings, icons and artefacts were either defaced or stolen.
At Christmas, the Greek Orthodox Archbishop pleaded once again with the Turks to allow the Greek Cypriots to repair their churches. Once again the Turks refused, even though the Greek Cypriots have cared for the mosques in the South.
The USA and the UK were complicit in the Turkish invasion, so what hope is there that being in the EU will protect the Republic from the same mindless attempt to destroy Christianity, as has been the aim in the North and mainland Turkey? That clear unbroken line from Jesus to me that I felt in Cyprus may soon be a dream.
Reg Kennedy
Yes, we had poked our noses into the mosaic house but, tired tourists as we were, we hadn't even tried to savour the aroma of history that has persisted in Paphos and its hinterland for thousands of years. It needed the invitation and enthusiasm of new friends to awaken my dulled senses.
They took us first to Kourion where it was not long before the sophistication of the buildings, mosaics and air conditioning system began to humble me. With the backdrop of a stunning, commanding view over sea and land, one friend delighted us by demonstrating the superb acoustics of the amphitheatre; he sang, O Holy Night.
My hardened soul began, as it were, to crumble as I became aware of another fact, nay, another dimension. To my shame I had quite forgotten that Paul and Barnabas had begun their first missionary journey on Cyprus. Tradition has it that the two missionaries fled to Kourion when Paphos became too dangerous for them.
I “woke up”. I found myself no longer a tourist but a pilgrim. At the time I didn't express my feelings in those, perhaps pompous terms; all I knew was that my whole perception and appreciation of what I was seeing and treading on was changing. I didn't understand, but change there was.
We moved on into Paphos, the Kato Paphos that Vieno and I had ignorantly dismissed as a den of tourists, and found ourselves in the ancient Orthodox Church by St. Paul's Pillar, (Anglicans, Catholics and Lutherans also worship there). Paul is reputed to have been whipped at a stone pillar that is now surrounded by the ruins of the 4th C Basilica and a Gothic church.
A new sense of continuity with the past, with the early Church, began to seep into my consciousness. Landing in Salamis, Paul and Barnabas had preached the length of the island and sailed to Turkey from the harbour 200 meters away.
Luke doesn't record either Paul's whipping here or his fleeing to Kourion. But, then, Acts tells of only two encounters on the island. But there in Paphos – indeed all over Cyprus – are churches no doubt planted by or as a result of the two missionaries' work.
Perhaps I felt the impact so intensely because I had been reading the Early Christian Writings of St Clement, Ignatius and Polycarp. Perhaps it was because of my recently awakened realisation that Christianity hadn't begun with Calvin and Luther! I felt 'grounded' in my faith as never before.
Somehow, this awareness was of a different order from that which I experienced in Israel. Yes, my imagination was illumined and my faith strengthened where Jesus had walked. But only in Paphos did I realise that I had missed the continuity from Jesus and his life, death, resurrection and Ascension to the church today; to me, today.
There on Cyprus where, compared with Turkey, the Christian faith still thrives, after thousands of years, I was part of the whole company of saints who have trod this way. There, where it is often difficult to understand and partake in Orthodox worship, there was continuity, a clear unbroken line from Jesus to me.
Two days later, our Greek Cypriot neighbours told us about the Turkish invasion in 1974. John and Irene had only recently moved from Britain to re-settle in their homeland, near Kyrenia on the north coast. John's new car showroom was doing well and they had their first baby when the invasion began. John asked the British why they didn't stop the Turks; they had orders not to resist. John, Irene and their ten week old child joined the mass exodus as the Turks forced them to head south. Thirty years on, the pain is still deep; their house is now occupied by Turks. The Orthodox Churches there have been destroyed, some being used as stables and urinals. Priceless paintings, icons and artefacts were either defaced or stolen.
At Christmas, the Greek Orthodox Archbishop pleaded once again with the Turks to allow the Greek Cypriots to repair their churches. Once again the Turks refused, even though the Greek Cypriots have cared for the mosques in the South.
The USA and the UK were complicit in the Turkish invasion, so what hope is there that being in the EU will protect the Republic from the same mindless attempt to destroy Christianity, as has been the aim in the North and mainland Turkey? That clear unbroken line from Jesus to me that I felt in Cyprus may soon be a dream.
Reg Kennedy
Saturday, August 19, 2006
I'm devilish, they tell me re Israel
I'm devilish they tell me
In praying for Israel on God TV the otherweek, the station's founder, Rory Alec, seemed unconcerned about the suffering people of Lebanon but assumed that God was using Israel to defeat the evil that was bent on its destruction. God TV echoed what many evangelical Christians believe. It refuted that “Devilish Replacement Theology”, which states that Christians are now “the seed of Abraham”, not the Jews. Rory Alec's words appear to mean that I and many other Christians are in league with the Devil and that's not a comfortable thought.
When I criticise the State of Israel's actions against the Palestinians (and now against Lebanon), more often than not I'm accused of anti-Semitism; not a comfortable position to be in, especially in a small town like Helsinki. Maybe someone reading this might assume that I hate Israel (which I don't) simply because I dare to question its actions. They will tell me that I should bless Israel, whatever Israel does, otherwise God can't bless me, no doubt interpreting my every mishap as proof of their belief. But I can find no understanding of “bless” that doesn't imply approval or praise or wishes the “blessee” well in his endeavours. Can I bless an Israel that seems intent on what may be war crimes?
I don't enjoy being uncomfortable so I must do some homework to see whether or not I should recant of my so-called devilish theology. I want to be sure, or at least inform my conscience as best I can. Are there good grounds for my position? I start with some history; then a bit of theology.
After the suffering the Jews experienced for 2,000 years they surely deserved to have a homeland and where better than the land from where they were driven. Ironically, in 1840, Turkey informed the British that a return of the Jews to Palestine would bring both wealth and stability to the Middle East, and many Jews did emigrate. But a century later, after the Second World War, was it realistic to assume that a Jewish State could be established in this “twice promised land” (to the Jews and the Arabs) without turmoil?
Throughout World War 2, Jewish terrorists, including the infamous Stern Gang attacked the British who ruled Palestine under a League of Nations mandate. I say 'infamous' because the Stern Gang offered an alliance with Nazi Germany. The Gang would fight the British in return for Hitler's allowing Germany's Jews to emigrate to Palestine. There's no record of any answer from Hitler.
After the gang's leader, Avraham Stern, was killed by the British, the terrorist group re-formed as 'Lehi' under a leadership that included Yitzhak Shamir. Shamir later became Prime Minister of the new state of Israel. (The Lehi Ribbon was later inaugurated for those members of Lehi who would like to show their links with the past.) A Lehi newspaper set the tone of the determination that forced the British out of Palestine:
“Neither Jewish morality nor Jewish tradition can negate the use of terror as a means of battle.”
The present state of Israel was born in violence and has had to fight for its very existence. It has gained much admiration for its courage and military successes. Rightly so. But I am among those who are troubled by the country's refusal to accede to UN resolutions and recognise the pre-1967 borders, and by today's greater occupation of land protected by “the Wall”. I can't ignore the suffering of the Palestinians, which is surely at the root of the whole Middle East turmoil. Hence, Hamas and Hetzbollah and their often violent resistance to the Israeli occupation of what they see as Palestinian land. Now we see Lebanon 'bombed into the Stone Age', as King Abdullah of Jordan said on BBC, by a ruthless Israel. But neither Hetzbollah nor Israel could fight were they not financed and supplied with arms by Iran/Syria or the USA.
When I hear Christians supporting the state of Israel I note that they almost exclusively quote the Old Testament, rarely the New, to underpin their position. They quote prophecy but usually ignore the general rule of studying the Bible that the Old Testament should be read in light of the New. They admit that they do not approve of everything that Israel does. But they refuse to admit that Israel today is a secular state with only a tiny minority of practising Jews, and that Israel's actions are so often at variance with the commands of God to His people. If the present day State of Israel is God's chosen people, it seems to me that they are acting more like the Israel described in the Bible as deserving the exiles that befell them.
I know that many will quarrel with my interpretation of the Bible; such is the theological dilemma.
First, the requirement to bless Israel, regardless of its actions. Some writers claim that Britain lost its Empire because of its opposition to the establishment of Israel. They also ignore the fact that the USA agreed with Britain. But, the question here for me is, do God's words to Abram about others blessing Israel refer to other nations or individuals today? I think not. The promises about the land are repeated but not the warning in Genesis that we will be cursed if we do not bless Israel. (Genesis12:3.) My detractors usually ignore the requirement that Israel should be a blessing to others. Countless Jews are a blessing in very many fields throughout the world. But can that be said of the State of Israel? Has it a special relationship with God?
Peter, in the New Testament, says that those who reject Jesus as Messiah will cease to be God's people. (Acts 3:23). Paul calls Jesus the 'seed of Abraham', as are those who follow Him. Paul also says that God's blessing depends on whether or not the Gentiles respond to Jesus; not on how they treat the Jews (Galatians 3).
There are many Christians who feel it's more important to get Jews into Israel than to see them converted to Christianity. One woman, supported by Finnish Christians, travels in North Africa, Russia and China searching out Jews and encouraging them to emigrate. Of course, Jews have no right of entry if they convert, but it's also true that they are much less likely to convert later.
But what about the land God promised Abram; is there any argument about this?
Argument there is and plenty to be read that can't be distilled here. I can only state the conclusion I've come to as a result of my reading.
Whenever God promises something, it is always conditional. The land is God's not Israel's, and the Jews are tenants (Leviticus 25:23). When I see what devastation and loss of life Israel is causing I wonder at the words of the prophet Ezekiel: ”This says the Lord God of Israel: You shed blood, yet you would keep possession of the land? You rely on your sword, you do abominable things...yet you would keep possession of the land.”(“Ezekiel 33:25-26).
The meek, not some particular nationality, says Jesus, will inherit the earth, not just some tiny part of the Middle East. The New Testament speaks of the people of God, the new Israel, as being those Jews and Gentiles under Christ who are together in His Church.
As I understand the Bible, I can only conclude that God's "chosen people" have been replaced by the Church, as one of Jesus's parables foretells (Matthew 21:33-46).
My reading:
Who Owns the Land – Stanley A. Ellisen, Multnomah 1991.
The Church is Israel Now - Charles D. Proven, Ross House Books 1987
The Land of Promise - Philip Johnston & Peter Walker(ed) IVP 2000
The Jews, People of the Future – Ulf Ekman 2003
Christian Zionism – Stephen Sizer IVP 2004
Dispensationalism – Keith A Mathison R6R publishing 1995
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