Reflections on the Recent Gaza Flotilla Episode

I have followed the Mideast Crisis regularly since 1968. I continue to be amazed by the conflicting versions of violent episodes that, tragically, regularly occur. One might think the Israelis and the Arabs (to simplify a rather complex situation) live in different universes.

The rhetoric employed and conclusions drawn often defy rational discourse. Why is it that the Arab press and diplomatic spokespersons typically resort to "over the top" language when reporting on or responding to these tragedies. Can one take seriously the Turkish prime ministers' accusations of "state terrorism" perpetrated by Israel? What is perplexing to me is that this pattern is endemic in the Arab world. I can list example after example of this kind of distortion. We all laughed at the nonsense of the Iraqi minister of information during the most recent Gulf War. He maintained with a straight face that U.S. troops were being beaten back from Baghdad when in fact they were virtually right outside his office. The psychology of this is mystifying.

On the other side, the Israeli military sometimes prevents the media from having immediate access to information or events. This creates in the minds of many the impression that they are not trustworthy and are hiding something. In some instances, they have indeed hid things.

Bystanders must make a choice: they can accept uncritically either the Arab version or the Israeli version; they can dismiss both as completely self-serving and disingenuous; or they can sift through the conflicting versions and assess which version corresponds more closely with what actually happened. In my opinion, the Israeli version has proven more reliable than its Arab counterpart over the years.

In the flotilla episode we now have competing videos of the affair! The evidence is quite clear that this was a premeditated, staged event for media consumption. Tragically, the consequences were worse than probably both sides anticipated. It will, however, serve as fodder for the Arab media's unrelenting attack against the "Zionist Nazis."

American sympathies tend to favor the underdog. Those without any biblical or theological commitment to a future for Israel in God's plan tend to identify with the plight of the Palestinians. I personally lament the deep suffering and oppression of the Palestinians. I have personally known Palestinian families and have grieved over the harassment and penalties they have had to endure. But I also resent the way their leadership and the Arab leaders of Israel's neighbors have so poorly served them. A peace agreement and a two-state solution could have been achieved years ago had moderate voices prevailed. Alas, such has not been the case.

Though it is politically incorrect to say it, Islamic ideology lies at the taproot of this ongoing crisis. Palestine lies within the Islamic domain. The notion of a Jewish state within their midst is abhorrent. This then colors everything and influences the rhetoric of this conflict.

At Taylor University, Daoud Kuttab (a Palestinian Christian) paid a visit and shared his apparent optimism for a Palestinian state in 2011. After listening to him, I must sadly declare that nothing he said leads me to share his optimism. As an example of what I view as totally unrealistic, he listed the several items that he felt must be realized for a Palestinian state. The very first condition he laid down was the following: Israel must take full and complete responsibility for the refugee problem. This is a deal-breaker! And it is so obviously unbalanced and distorted that I come back to my starting point. How can we account for such distorted explanations of the situation? Perhaps we fallen human beings simply cannot be objective when we find ourselves in such emotional distress. So now I conclude with a question: Can the Holy Spirit enable individuals deeply committed to a deeply held political cause to transcend biases and seek the truth and nothing but the truth? I want to believe he can.

Reflections on a Reunion

I finally made a high school class reunion. Glad I did and it's about time; I showed up for the 50th reunion of the Sherman County High School class of '60 (Oregon). The reunion was held at Skamania Lodge in Stevenson, WA, a lovely place with a wonderful view of the Columbia River. We also lucked out and had a glorious Saturday with no rain--a rarity of late in Washington and Oregon! It turned out to be a very special time reconnecting with classmates, most of whom I had not seen since graduation.



First, a little trivia. Officially, there were 34 graduates of SCHS in 1960; unofficially, there were 35. The difference is, something most of us were unaware of at the time, one member of our class was told shortly before graduation she was short a few credits for her diploma. So, she appears in the class picture, but didn't walk the night of graduation. Also, there were only 33 graduates who actually received their diplomas on graduation night. One of them, John Capaci, was in the hospital having his appendix taken out!

I almost wasn't there either. I was the class Salutatorian and gave an address, but was in considerable pain. My back was killing me. I had been in the hospital before graduation for severe back pain but the doctor was unable to determine why. I had suffered an injury in a track meet a couple of weeks earlier and they were treating me for a muscle pull. Turns out I had something more substantial going on--a congenital defect on the right kidney. The ureter exited from the top of the kidney rather than the middle. When I was high jumping, the ureter got twisted and nearly closed off completely. As a consequence, my kidney did not adequately drain and blew up like a balloon. The pain was really intense. After graduation, I was readmitted to the hospital and the doctor finally took an X-ray. He then realized what the problem was and referred me to specialists in Portland, OR. Shortly thereafter I had plastic surgery and the kidney has functioned correctly ever since.

Sorry for the detour into my personal medical history;back to my classmates. Only one, my cousin, Betty Bothwell (maiden name), has passed away and that within the last year. She died of cancer. Since we are all between 67-69 years of age, I'd say that as a class we have a very low mortality rate.

What was fascinating about this experience was the odd sensation of reconnecting with people whom I knew as 17-18 year olds, 50 years ago. In most cases, it was as if we hadn't missed a beat. Even though we had changed considerably with regard to our physical appearance, there was something continuous and recognizable about each person; we just picked up where we left off. Talk about a time warp! I wonder if this an inkling of what the New Jerusalem will be like? Perhaps this is how it will be for those who die very young; they will appear in glory as mature adults. Hmm?

We had a fun time updating our classmates on our lives since graduation and we howled as the class prophecy and last will and testament was read. A few prophecies were indeed prescient! The experience was so rewarding, we decided it would be great to have another reunion in two years when we all turn 70. I look forward to it.

I am reminded of what the Psalmist says: "The length of our days is seventy years--or eighty, if we have the strength; yet their span is but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away" (Ps 90:10). How true this is (though I expect several of our class will reach the century mark). For every one of us, mixed with the good times and joys of life, have been the inevitable troubles and sorrows. We live east of Eden and deep within our souls long to return to the Garden. Through Christ we have a robust hope of doing precisely that. Revelation 21-22 is a preview of good things to come for those who trust in Christ as Savior and Lord.

Finally, there was a consensus that going to high school in Sherman County was a very positive experience. Probably most people who travel through our small, depopulated county imagine that people who live there are socially and culturally deprived. They would be quite mistaken. Even though we may have lacked certain advantages of large urban schools, the values and virtues of growing up in a farming and ranching community more than compensated for any supposed shortcomings. One of the spouses of a classmate commented on how envious he was of our class. He was very impressed with the strong sense of community and solidarity. He was right and for that I thank the Lord.