Things blown up

On July 22, 1946, the southern section of the King David Hotel in Jerusalem was blown up, killing nearly 100 people and injuring dozens of others. The bombers were right-wing Jewish fighters angry at the British mandate authority, located in that section of the luxury hotel, for raiding Jewish military groups and confiscating damaging documents.

I visited the King David Hotel yesterday for lunch and contemplated things blown up. The hotel, which obviously was later rebuilt; hundreds of people in dozens of busses, cafes and crowded streets; the prospects of a peace resolution; the lives of those left to heal and mourn the losses. This region of the world has blown up in recent years, making the violence between Israel and Palestine seem almost like small skirmishes. My heart aches for the millions of lives torn to shreds only a few hundred miles from me, as I sit comfortably in my small hotel room. The people all around me here, too, have experienced the devastation of lives and hopes and dreams blown up. I meet them all around me. There is much anger and fear. But there is also much hope and celebration.

I would dare say all of us have experienced lives being blown up. I have. My family has, on multiple occasions. We have healed, usually with scars. We are still trying to find the pieces from the most recent explosion, to begin putting them back together now. But I have faith we will heal. I have faith in a Savior whose greatest purpose was to make that healing possible. I am certain that the greatest thing lacking in this region, in the world, is that knowledge, and the desire to let healing begin.

The problem is, it's scary. Healing means moving on, finding joy again. And that seems to undercut justice, or the hallowed memory of those lost. We as humans are obsessed with justice. We sometimes forget that, try as we may, we can never attain full justice. Like the seemingly impossible task of finding room for healing, the task of reaching final justice simply must be left to the master of the law. I do not mean to say that the pursuit of justice is futile and unworthy. On the contrary, it must be a sacred part of social and personal experience in order for civilization to survive and progress. But it cannot be pursued at the expense of ultimate peace and healing.

I digress. I'm supposed to be talking about Israel, aren't I? I guess, in my way, I am.

Speaking of life and celebration, I wandered into the Old City today around lunch time, and was a bit taken aback. It must have been around the time of the Islamic afternoon prayer, because most of the shops were closed as I walked down. But when I arrived to the city, I found it teeming with life. All kinds of small, make-shift vending tables with anything you might imagine - from shoes and small children's toys, to clothes and fresh fruits/vegetables. And then, all of a sudden, people were streaming from Damascus Gate. I mean, streaming! I wondered if something had happened inside the city. I wanted to go down in and grab something to eat, so I pushed my way through until I reached a vendor about 200 yards from the front of the gate. I still don't know why everyone was leaving, but it was astounding.

I do remember that Friday afternoons at Damascus Gate are especially crazy, and Ramadan begins tomorrow, I believe. So that may have had something to do with it. Tonight begins the weekend in Israel. And perhaps I shouldn't have been alone there - I remember a friend getting cornered and groped in a similar situation, at Damascus Gate, even, in 2000. But I have always been a bit impetuous in these kinds of situations, much to my mother's chagrin. I assure you, I am fine, Mom.

As you might infer from my earlier ponderings, I am feeling a bit lonely and pensive. I knew that spending a month and a half largely alone in Israel would be challenging for me. Now that the conferences are over, the challenging part is beginning. I struggle with feeling overwhelmed by the research I need to do. I struggle going out alone. Always alone. It is so very tiresome. I am trying to remain busy and actively engaged in my work, but it is hard for me at times. I apologize for throwing that out there. I want to be nothing but happy and uplifting, but I actually find value in honesty - about the wonderful and the painful. So, that's where we are right now.

And still I can't figure out why this darn blog (or Facebook) won't let me upload the most recent photos from Dropbox. It's really beginning to irritate me! I have some good ones!