Like other levels of development on the spiral of consciousness (such as warrior, traditional, modern) the postmodern level of consciousness carries its own set of dignities and disasters. What I will attempt to do in this post is mention some ideas I have centered around one of its plusses, even though this simultaneously means the possibility that some will no doubt miss the point and reply with an entire litany of minuses (oh the joy of blogging!).

Dialogue or ‘conversation’ (a word, thanks to my friend Brian McLaren, that is all the rage within some sectors of discussion today) is important in just about every area of life I can conceive of. It’s an important element in all relationships, be they familial, political, spiritual, religious or educational. And it seems that all good dialogue demands a certain degree of openness about or sensitivity toward the idea that none of us knows everything – even within the universe of what we ‘think’ we may know – and THAT, I’m suggesting, is the cornerstone of dialogue. It’s called ‘humility.’

Since mine is a world of research, I’m often staggered at the thought of what I don’t know and sometimes dismayed at what I thought I knew that, as it turned out, I really didn’t. But this is a good thing – something that’s good for all of us – because it alters or should alter the way we converse with others. At a minimum it seems it should inspire us to err toward the side of congeniality.

As I flit through the blogging world I’m often disappointed in the real lack of conversation taking place. A lot of people seem to be speaking past one another, missing the point of posts only to latch onto pet-peeves or to indulge in the art of scapegoating, demonization of others or weaving wild speculative conspiratorial theories. Perhaps it’s the anonymity of the internet beast itself that is to blame for occasional episodes of disrespectfulness that seem to squirm their way out of us before we could catch our tongue  – a forum to vent or rage in ways we’d never do in person. I’m sure I’ve been guilty of this, how ’bout you?

In light of the enormity of the world’s problems, this is unfortunate. If ever there were a time to sit down and talk things through, to share ideas – even ones that require us to be vulnerable – I think that time is now.

So much war. So much killing. So much violence and hatred and bigotry. It’s time for an alter call of humility and graciousness.

Here’s hoping for a world of peaceful dialogue!

But then there’s the ocean. That mighty and massive body of water, never failing to communicate to me just how small I am and how large the Presence that is ‘in’ and yet ‘beyond’ me (and all things!) is. And to think that I can know such a Presence and even be a part of this One’s nature – there’s such power in owning this thought.

Being at the ocean also reminds me of something else – a spiritual teaching from a source within Eastern wisdom literature: the principle states that, “It is the surface of the sea that makes waves and roaring breakers; the depth is silent.”

Think about this for a moment.

I love this. I love to recall it in times of upheaval when I know I should affirmatively respond to that numinous nudge to sit down, rediscover stillness, and enter into a place of quiet meditation. Again and again it reminds me that the turmoil of life occurs at the shallow shore of my egoic fears and incessant desire to be in control. Over and again this teaching affirms my need to go deep with God and there find the calm and rest for which I seek.

I think Jesus had this in mind when he spoke of those tossed back and forth by the wind – carried on the waves as if they had no choice or power over their destiny. For Jesus, these were people who did not know (or did not desire) to go into the deeper things of life; to descend to the greater depths of knowing and meaning and therein finding peace.

Think about it: When the surface things of life are breaking hard, there is a place of stillness to which you may always go. It’s the place that is perpetually calm because it is the deep place of real Presence, of real Spirit, of real Selfhood where nothing can hurt you or take away the eternal life that you are.

It’s a new week and the world is tentative because the winds and the waves abound – but you, YOU are an infinite soul with the infinite power of Presence guiding you to the depths of what is real. And with that, the words ‘have a great week’ should more easily and believably be received!

This was no site-seeing tour. It was ten days of meetings with both Jewish and Palestinian citizens and government officials. One such group is simply known as ‘the Refuseniks’ – Israeli citizens who refused to serve in the military because of an unwillingness to contribute to the grievances and abuses occurring with regularity within the occupied territories. Their only agenda was peace and justice for all.

These were people who knew the landscape of abuse from the inside-out. They spoke of the unethical settlement-building, land-confiscation, wall-building, unwarranted arrests, torture, home demolitions and a host of other grievances occurring in the face of international law opposing them. These were people, some of whom had endured arrest and ill-treatment by their own government. And some of their stories are simply too heart-wrenching to tell. It’s easier to pretend that such things just don’t happen. But they do.

Perhaps the one thing that bothered me most were the number of Israelis who scoffed at the breaking of international law by reminding us that the U.S. often does not observe such law either. This argument seemed to be their ace-in-the-hole. “International law,” said one Jewish leader, “was nothing more, nothing less, than kangaroo court.” It was their way of forbidding we take the moral high ground or to argue from an ethics standpoint.

“What have we become as a nation,” I wonder? It’s a question that not only must be asked, but pressed.

Along the way we met many wonderful Jewish people. And we met many wonderful Palestinians. And both groups continuously stressed their desire for peace – a word we heard much more often than a call for ‘justice.’

Justice seeks to make amends, to set things right. Justice is a call for immediate action to overturn things that are wrong. And the entire issue of ethical wrongs is often the first casualty of any conflict. But make no mistake: Justice is the key issue in this dispute.

While it would be easy to succumb to despair, I had to remind myself that we did not travel to the Land to become discouraged, but to become prepared; prepared to speak, to write, to share what we had seen. And so that is what I have done and will continue to do.

I do not seek to speak against one side in favor of the other, but to speak against the diabolical false self that is of the ego and knows nothing of our true nature – our higher and divine nature. And it is THAT nature that screams out imploring, “What are we doing?” “What will we do next?” “When will we care?” And even more, “Can humankind exist when it is becoming so obvious that civilization is anything but civilized?”

One of the challenges of writing about the conflict is how to defend the innocent (on both sides) without appearing to be defending everything Jewish or Palestinian. I think everybody gets that, but I notice how some responding to these posts still tend to say things like, “Yes, but there’s guilt on both sides,” etc. Of course there is. But statements like that only serve to cause static in attempts to honestly appraise the situation on behalf of so many good and well-intentioned folks trying to coexist.

And so with that in mind, I would like to share a bit about one of our host families while in the Land, a wonderful Christian Palestinian family who was kind enough to put us up for the night. I’ll simply refer to them as ‘the Smiths.’

What comes as a surprise to many U.S. Christians is the number of Palestinian Christians in the Land. And the Smiths are one such family. Like the Smiths it was not long ago that some 10% of the Palestinian population was Christian. In the past decade, however, many of them have fled in an attempt to find peace and a better life for their children with a net result that presently only about 2% of the people of Palestine consider themselves Christian. And that is unfortunate indeed.

As we waited for Mr. Smith to arrive and take us to his home for the evening, I have to admit that I felt quite uneasy about spending the night with them. Not because I feared anything, but because I knew that the Palestinian people are poor, yet renowned for their hospitality. How would I, someone comparatively wealthy, feel about receiving from such a family?

It didn’t take long for these feelings to be amplified. Upon arriving they insisted that we eat dinner with them. It was less than inconspicuous that while Mr. Smith joined us, Mrs. Smith just sat at the table without eating – “I need to lose weight,” she said, “I usually only eat some bread at breakfast and just a bit of something at lunch.” Our hearts sunk as one look at Mrs. Smith would seem to indicate that nobody would confuse her for someone needing to lose weight.

As well, they were very happy to announce that while they didn’t usually eat meat, they had purchased some for our arrival so that we would be welcomed and well-fed.

If that doesn’t make you cry, it should.

Imagine how we felt? There was a sense of compassion, of guilt, of angst and even anger that such a people had to live on the least of budgets while our government was sending billions to subsidize the very people they viewed as ‘the occupiers.’

Against their insistence we filled ourselves; we ate as little as we could without offending them, mostly trying to steer the conversation toward children and grandchildren – some of whom were sitting in the living room, also not eating.

After dinner we watched an American TV show together, spoke of their relations with the Muslim population – who they spoke very highly of – and eventually retired to our room for the night.

There are many details I could share about our visit, but these should suffice to make our point: All most people want is a good life. A good life for themselves and for their children. They want to live in peace, have the necessities of life covered and to have the freedom to seek the God they believe exists.

And as the global community of faith, we can (and should) help them do just that.

Everywhere I went I saw large tracts of land that had been or were being developed for the future occupation of Israeli citizens, many of whom are not even presently living within the country to even occupy such properties. These settlements do not consist of a house here or there, a building or supermarket spread throughout, but rather a dense population of tall – think condominiums – buildings, mostly sitting empty, dominating the landscape on which they were built.

One strategy also evident was that these settlements are most always built upon the highest hill or mountain in the area, often surrounding smaller Palestinian enclaves below – effectively giving the impression of the impenetrable presence of what Palestinians see as ‘the occupier.’ Living in the shadow of such colonizers is intimidating and adds to a certain sense of despair and hopelessness. After all, if a territory is ‘disputed,’ and yet the occupying nation is building on it, is it really in dispute? Practically speaking, it’s seen as irretrievable. Lost. Gone.

So where do the people come from who are to live in such settlements?

For a long time the Israeli government has recruited Jewish citizens from all around the world to come and live in these settlements. In exchange, these citizens receive large tax breaks, low-priced housing, new schools for their children and many extra amenities to make such a move plausible. And in actuality, many of these Jewish citizens are unaware of the ‘politics’ of such settlements, how they are harming the Palestinians living in close proximity as well as dampening the opportunity for peace in the land, not to mention the extent to which they are merely pawns for the Israeli government.

It is the conviction of many that the Israeli government knows that eventually it will be forced to the bargaining table and that its position will be significantly strengthened if it can show how many of their citizens are living in these settlements. It is also acknowledged that some of these settlements will never be occupied and are even being constructed with the intent of some day destroying them. Why would such a plan exist? Effectively they become a bargaining chip. They enable the Israeli government to say, “Look what we’re willing to give up – we’ll tear down X number of settlements if we can ‘only’ keep the following ones. ” And it is that latter statement that Palestinians most fear.

For years the settler movement has had its sights set on increasing Israeli control of inside the Old City of Jerusalem. Even the Damascus Gate, the famous entrance to the Muslim Quarter, is framed with settlements including a house owned by former Prime Minister Ariel Sharon.

All combined, these settlements highly prejudice any future negotiations for agreement to share the Land. And once again, while the Palestinians are powerless economically and militarily to respond, as long as the world is content to turn a blind eye toward the unethical nature of such settlements, the hope for peace decreases daily.