A Place That Can Make You Cry

Someyears ago, my colleague Rabbi Daniel Gordis published a book entitled, "If APlace Can Make You Cry." Ilove the title; I just don't understand the "If." I am in Jerusalem, and this is without a doubt a place thatcan make you cry. Perhaps any placewhere one opens one's heart to the pain and complexity of human life can andshould make us cry. For me, this is true most of all in this place, sacred tothree faiths and two peoples.

Ispent much of my day yesterday with Israeli and Palestinian peace activists. I was picked up by Gadi Kenny, a savvyand sophisticated Israeli entrepreneur who in recent years has devoted himselfto the cause of peace, and his friend Meni, a peace-minded Israeli architect. The purpose of today's journey: toexplore the possibilities of creating a "Peace House," a much-needed retreatcenter for use by programs that facilitate understanding and reconciliationbetween Israelis and Palestinians.We took a short detour to pick up our friend Souliman Al-Khatib, anindefatigable Palestinian peace activist, at his mother's home in a tinyPalestinian town east of Jerusalem.Souli's story is a remarkable one: from the age of fourteen he servedten years in Israeli prisons for acts of violence. While in prison, he studied Hebrew, English, history andphilosophy, and became an indefatigable peace activist. He has become a friend of our familyand I am always delighted to see him.

Headingnorth into the north-central West Bank, the terrain was starkly beautiful. The time passed quickly, as we tookturns telling each other how we had come to be drawn into peace work. We were even good-natured enough toweather the frustrating one-hour stop at one of the many checkpoints that dotthe West Bank. The issue: the soldiers manning the checkpointcould not get confirmation of the written documents presented by Gadi and Soulito indicate that they were permitted to travel into the area of the West Bankwe were visiting.

Finallywe reached our destination, a primitive but beautifully maintained tinyPalestinian village called Al-Aqabe. Our host, the beloved head of the village,Hajj Sami Saddiq, a warm and dignified man in his early 60s, sat in awheelchair, due to a crippling injury he suffered from a stray Israeli bulletin 1972, as he worked his fields, near an Israeli army training camp. Hajj Sami had suffered greatly, andmade sure to remind us – though in surprisingly quiet tones - that 52 of hisvillagers had been similarly injured over the years. He wanted us to know that 95% of the buildings in hisvillage have standing demolition orders issued by the Israeli government. Remarkably, he spoke withoutanger. Over and over again, hetold us that theirs is a peace-loving village, wanting only to live quietlywith their neighbors in peace.They had renamed the entry road to their village, "The Gandhi PeaceRoad." When I asked what had ledhim to care so deeply for peace, he said simply, "We all live here. Sixty years from now, we will all bedead. Why not live together inpeace?"

Theplace was magical, both the terrain and the peace-loving culture of the villageinspiring hope and tranquility. Wewere treated to an elaborate lunch and several rounds of coffee and tea indifferent homes. It was clear thatthe hope of creating a "Peace House" here was a beautiful vision.

Iwould have floated home to Jerusalem on the wings of that prayerfulvision. But when we got to theneighborhood where I am staying, we encountered snarled traffic, policebarricades, and shouting. Verynear my apartment, some 10,000 religious Jews from around the country and theWest Bank had gathered near the Prime Minister's official residence to protestNetanyahu's recent order to freeze some settlement construction for 10months. Protestors carried signswith messages like, "Break the freeze;""Bibi (Netanyahu) works for U.S. not for US," and "Jews are notpopsicles; we cannot be frozen."

Broken-hearted,I edged through the passionate crowds to make my way back to my apartment. These were Jews like me, but shoutingwith what appeared to me to be hard-hearted insistence on their desires to theexclusion of the rights of others.What of the vision of a house of peace? My heart was heavy this morning, but as always,I recited Jewish prayers for peace.