Larry Helyer's Blog

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Reflections on Hosea

The book of Hosea speaks to a crying need of our day: commitment.

For the last two weeks my class in the prophetic landscape of ancient Israel has engaged this prophet to the northern kingdom of Israel. In all likelihood, Hosea was from the powerful and influential tribe of Ephraim. One notices, for example, that throughout his messages, Hosea refers to "Ephraim" as representative of all the northern ten tribes. Ephraim was the tribe from which Joshua came and early on was the leading tribe among the federation of twelve tribes. The ark of the covenant was housed at Shiloh deep in Ephraimite territory, which reflects the prestige accorded this tribe.

Hosea, however, is not happy with Ephraim, nor is Hosea happy with his wife, Gomer. And therein lies a profound story of a failed marriage; indeed, not one but two failed marriages, because Hosea and his wayward wife Gomer mirror another marriage, namely, that between Yahweh and Israel. Israel, like Gomer, was unfaithful to her wedded husband. The consequences for both Gomer and Israel were devastating and the emotional pain experienced by Hosea and Yahweh was intense.

I pointed out to my students that no prophet portrays the emotional pain of the Lord over his unfaithful people as vividly and realistically as Hosea (Hos 6:4; 7:13; 11:1, 8-9). This is truly remarkable and I want to share with my readers what I shared with my students.

The prophet Hosea teaches us that steadfast love (Hesed in Hebrew) triumphs over justice. What I mean is not that God simply turns his head the other way and ignores our guilt, but rather, that God extends extraordinary kindness and mercy to us even though we deserve to have "the book thrown at us." If you think about it, the Cross is the most profound instance of incomprehensible love one can imagine. The story of how Hosea reclaims and reconciles with his unfaithful wife Gomer mirrors God's unfathomable act of reconciling the world to himself through Christ not counting men's sins against them (2 Cor 5: 19). No plea bargain can compare to the settlement forged by a loving heavenly Father and his obedient Son in order to redeem sinners. And this self-giving love is the pattern to be replicated in the lives of all those who repent and receive the Father's gracious invitation to be reconciled. As the Holy Spirit pours out God's love in our hearts we are able to demonstrate grace and mercy to those who have deeply hurt us. This is well beyond ordinary human capability--it is a divine gift.

Secondly, the story of Hosea and Gomer highlights a major shortcoming these days. When the " for worse" part of our wedding vows actually happens, the reaction is all too often and all too quickly "cut bait and run." Wedding vows are now understood as strictly reciprocal: if my spouse doesn't live up to his or her promise, I am released from any obligation of commitment "till death do us part." Thankfully, the Lord doesn't deal with us in the same way. He leads us with "cords of human kindness" (Hos 11:4) and says to us, "How can I give you up, Ephraim?" (Hos 11:8). I realize that some marriages are so destructive there is no remedy but divorce. But most divorces should not have happened. They are testaments of failed commitments. It must have been the hardest thing in his life for Hosea to take back his unfaithful wife. But he did. Love can be rekindled but it takes a divine spark.

Thirdly, broken vows carry heavy consequences. Gomer paid dearly for her infidelities. Israel paid dearly for her spiritual harlotry in forsaking the one true and living God for lifeless idols. She spiraled down into the morass of immorality that always accompanies such utter foolishness (cf. Rom 1:21-32). In our lives, too, broken vows invariably eventuate in the reproofs of life. Much grief is the bitter fruit of broken vows.

Finally, the story of Hosea and Gomer reminds us of a deep mystery involving divine providence. God may allow us, like Hosea, to experience deep personal tragedy. When this happens, we can do as Job's wife suggested he do: "curse God and die" or, we can cry out for divine grace and mercy. Instead of succumbing to self-pity, we can rise from our ashes and brokenness and demonstrate a profound truth: God's grace is sufficient. "I can do everything through him who gives me strength" (Phil 4:13). Such a testimony is powerful beyond mere words.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Reflections on Amos of Tekoa

I took my students on a field trip to the West Bank on the 20th of September in order to visit the ancient site of Tekoa, hometown of the prophet Amos. Amos is generally considered to be the first of the writing prophets and so has considerable importance for the study of prophetic literature.

Being on the site of Tekoa gave me a sense of connectedness with this man. First of all, like Amos, my roots are in a ranching way of life. Amos raised sheep and cattle and so did my father on our ranches in Kent, Oregon. Secondly, the elevation of Tekoa, 2800 feet, is almost exactly the same as the ranch house on our homeplace in Kent. Thirdly, the rainfall of Tekoa is very close to the annual rainfall at Kent, about 10-12 inches per year.

Shown above is a picture of our group as we huddled under the shade of a Carob tree and a Juniper tree. Ah, there's another similarity. On our ranch we had juniper trees that grew in the canyons. Only in a few regions in the western US and in the middle east does the Juniper grow naturally. At any rate, what follows is a summary of material I shared with the students on our visit to Tekoa.

I asked the students to look around at the landscape of Tekoa and tell me what descriptive terms came to mind as they surveyed this site right on the edge of the cultivated land and the desert. Here are some apt phrases that readily came to mind:
  • It's a desolate place, largely lacking in significant vegetation, especially as one looks eastward over the Judean wilderness. I pointed out that a wilderness in the Bible is quite different from a wilderness in southern Indiana or in western Oregon. A wilderness area in S. Indiana may receive up to 40 inches of rainfall a year, about four times as much as falls on Tekoa in an average year. In S. Indiana the terrain is cloaked with hardwood forests of maple, oak, hickory, gingko and tulip trees among others. In w. Oregon one finds the majestic Douglas fir. This is a far cry from the kind of wilderness over which Tekoa looks. Is it a coincidence that Amos describes the restoration of David's kingdom in terms that remind us of the Garden of Eden (Amos 9:13-14)? Probably not. To one accustomed to seeing the forbidding wilderness always lurking to the east, it's fitting that God's kingdom should be depicted as a lush garden.
  • It's a place of quietness and solitude. Isn't it interesting that Amos denounces the religious festivals at the state-supported shrines in this strident tone: "Take away the noise of your songs" (Amos 5:23).
  • Tekoa is a rocky place. Notice that one of Amos' rhetorical questions to his audience is the following: "Do horses run upon rocks?" (Amos 6:12). His listeners knew the answer to that one!
  • Tekoa lacks readily available water resources. Cisterns had to be cut out of the limestone in order to capture the limited rainfall that fell, but that was about it. The nearby wadis (Arabic word for canyons) were seasonal and had running streams only during the rainy season (Nov-April). No surprise then that Amos mentions a lack of rain as one of the covenant curses the Lord would send if his people would not obey his laws (Amos 4:7-8). And it's surely not a coincidence how Amos describes a fundamental covenant obligation of Israel: "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream" (Amos 5:24). And is it mere happenstance how Amos portrays the great Creator in the doxology of 9:5-6? "Who calls for the waters of the sea and pours them out upon the surface of the earth--the Lord is his name."
  • It's a place from which one has a clear view of the heavens. Of course the students couldn't see this because we were there at mid day. But if we had stayed until nightfall, we would have been treated to a marvelous display. God's great light show would have lite up the sky! In the words of Amos, "He who made the Pleiades and Orion, and turns deep darkness into the morning, and darkens the day into night . . . the Lord is his name" (Amos 5:8-9).
  • It's a place connected to other towns and villages. I pointed out the town of Bethlehem to our north only about seven miles away. I reminded the students that Amos would have been very much aware of a most important individual who grew up in the "little town of Bethlehem."This of course was the greatest figure in Israelite national history, King David. Amos and David shared much in common. They were both Judahites and both grew up taking care of sheep and goats. They both knew the Wilderness of Judah like the back of their hands. Both doubtless had many stories to tell about their encounters with predatory critters. Just like young David impressed King Saul with his prowess against a bear and lion, so Amos tells his listeners about a man who had a close call with both a lion and a bear (Amos 5:19). So it should be no surprise that when Amos speaks about the Lord's future plans for Israel, he refers to "the booth of David that is fallen," which will be raised up once again so that it can be rebuilt as in days of old (Amos 9:11). In other words, he sees a restoration of the dynasty of David. This restoration has already begun! As James, the half-brother of Jesus, puts it in the book of Acts, the Jesus movement is the beginning of this fulfillment of Amos' vision (Acts 15:14-18). Our great king Jesus is the legitimate heir of the house of David and even now sits on his throne. We await his return in glory and the full restoration that takes place on that day.
I concluded our day at Tekoa with this observation: God's revelation to us in Scripture comes wrapped in the garb of humanity, shaped by the world in which the recipients lived. God accommodates his revelation to human beings in terms that are appropriate to the times and places during which and in which he revealed himself. Amos speaks the very words of God in the words of a man reared right on the edge of the Wilderness of Judah. This is a feature of revelation that needs both to be appreciated and respected. And this can best be appreciated in the land of the Bible!


Friday, September 24, 2010

Tale of Two Jerusalems

Last night was erev Shabbat (Sabbath evening) and the JUC community held their Shabbat meal and Vespers service out in the garden under a sukkah that the students had made. A sukkah is a temporary shelter that Jewish families build during the feast of Sukkoth that began on Wednesday sundown and lasts a week. During that time observant families take all their meals under the sukkah to remind them of the days of God's provision during the wilderness wanderings and of the bountiful harvest now complete (see Leviticus 23:33-43). I was the speaker for Vespers and what follows is a summary of my message

I began by reminding them of the central place that Jerusalem has occupied in the hearts of the Jewish people and Christians over the centuries. I then turned to a text in Isaiah that describes this "Holy city": "O afflicted city, lashed by storms and not comforted" (Isaiah 54:11). How ironic that a city whose name means "city of peace" has in fact suffered more war and desolation than perhaps any other city on earth! As we walk about the Old City, we are literally walking over the rubble and ruins of previous Jerusalems lying in some cases more than fifty feet below the present street level. If the bones and stones of those destruction layers could cry out, we would only hear moans and groans: Jerusalem of the past is a mausoleum of dashed hopes.

Outwardly, modern Jerusalem and the modern version of the Old City seem peaceful and prosperous enough. As modern cities go, Jerusalem is relatively safe, offering amenities and malls rivaling that of any modern world city. But it doesn't take long to realize that appearances can be deceiving. The last few days have once again reminded me how divided and tense things are just below the surface. A Palestinian man was shot and killed by a Jewish security officer in a section of Jerusalem where a few Jews are trying to live in the midst of a predominately Arab section. Needless to say, the primary source of tension and hostility in Jerusalem is that between Israelis and Palestinians. The Old City and Arab sections of Jerusalem are seething in anger and resentment at Israeli policies. But it is hardly the only one. Within the Arab community there are deep divisions and rivalries, sometimes flaring up into bloodletting episodes among the Fatah, Hamas, Al Qaeda and other factions. Israeli tensions run deep between the Orthodox and Ultra-orthodox wings of Judaism on the one hand and secular Israelis on the other. Even within Jewish orthodoxy there are bitter divisions and rivalries. The Christian community here is hardly any better with long-standing resentments and bitterness between the Latin, Greek Orthodox, Armenian, Coptic, Ethiopian and various Protestants denominations. The squabbling among them is shameful.

All of this to say, Isaiah's sad description of Jerusalem in his day is still an apt one for the Jerusalem of our own day. But that isn't the entire story in Isaiah. In fact, his book is noteworthy for a major theme that courses its way through his majestic work. He tells us a story about two Jerusalems. One is the story I've just rehearsed and summarized. A story about a city whose people are afflicted and lashed and not comforted. That's the Jerusalem of ancient and modern times. A Jerusalem where hopes and aspirations are never realized. Remarkably, however, Isaiah describes another Jerusalem, a Jerusalem I'll call the Heavenly Jerusalem, the city of God. It's a glorious, resplendent city, a city of enduring peace, filled with justice and righteousness. We catch glimpses of this wonderful city throughout his book as he juxtaposes snapshots of these two dramatically different cities along the way. For example, like a slide show, Isaiah flashes up a picture of a devastated, depraved city in chapter one of his book (see 1:2-2a5)only to follow that with another slide of a righteous, faithful city wherein peace and justice reign (1:26-27). In chapter 2:1-5 we have an inspiring vision of a future Jerusalem which is a magnet for the world and in which the law of the Lord goes forth and peace at last prevails. But then suddenly the slide changes and we see Jerusalem as it really was in Isaiah's day: a sordid, unjust, unfaithful city, suffering the penalty for their waywardness.

I then drew attention to a delightful description of the New Jerusalem in Isaiah 4:2-6. The Lord promises that his glory cloud would settle down upon Mt Zion and Jerusalem just like it did in the days of Moses and the wilderness wanderings. The residents of Jerusalem would dwell under God's canopy (the Hebrew word for canopy is huppah, which refers to the marriage canopy under which Jewish couples take their vows). The Lord also promises be a shelter for his people and the word for shelter is sukkah, the temporary booth made during the feast of Tabernacles. As we were at that very moment sitting under a sukkah I think that resonated!

All of this sets up a major problem: How can we experience the New Jerusalem and not be doomed to dwell in the Jerusalem of past and present? Isaiah the great evangelical prophet provides the answer. He tells of a great descendant of David and child born as Emmanuel who will reign in justice and righteousness (Chapters 7 through 11). In the second part of his book Isaiah then turns to the mysterious figure the Suffering Servant (Isaiah 53). Here is the mystery of our salvation. The Great King is also a Great Savior. He dies in our place and on our behalf. He pays the price for our sins. Those who embrace him as Savior and Lord become citizens of the New Jerusalem. This New Jerusalem is a reality not a mythical place like Narnia. It is a hidden, spiritual city that the world cannot see. But one day it will become visible and public. The Great King will return and consummate his great kingdom. The centerpiece will be the New Jerusalem, resplendent as a bride (Revelation 21:1-8). All our aspirations will be exceeded by the New Jerusalem.Isaiah already saw it. He gives us a sneak preview in Isaiah 54:11-14, immediately following his grim description of the Old Jerusalem! Again in 65:18-19 we catch a glimpse of this marvelous city. The Apostle John simply picks up and elaborates on Isaiah's vision in his own vision on the island of Patmos (Revelation 21:1-8; 22:1-6).

So, what should our response as believers be to this great prospect. As the Psalmist says in Psalm 122 we should "pray for the peace of Jerusalem. The current residents, and by extension, all human beings who are not presently members of the New Jerusalem will never find their hopes fulfilled in the Old Jerusalem. It is doomed. But in Christ there is a glorious future. Second, we must say to others "Peace be within you." This calls for personal sharing of Christ with those we come into contact with. We do it by both word and deed. Thirdly, we raise our voices in grateful praise and thanksgiving to the one who is going to "make all things new." Eye has not seen nor ear heard the things that God has prepared for those who love him. This is our anchor for all times.

This brings me to the

Friday, September 17, 2010

Yom Kippur

This evening at sundown begins the most solemn day in Judaism, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, ushered in a period of ten days called Yamin Noraim, the days of awe. This is a time of introspection and self-examination with special prayers in the synagogue climaxed by special services on Yom Kippur beseeching the Lord for mercy and forgiveness. The truly penitent are assured that a merciful God will indeed forgive and, in effect, wipe the slate clean for a new year.

This communal act of catharsis and reflection is doubtless a good thing and, for those who take their Judaism seriously, it must be a quite meaningful experience.

All of this prompts me to reflect on how this compares with and differs from Christianity. There can be no doubt that in several places the language of the New Testament echoes the ancient traditions of Yom Kippur. The most obvious example is the book of Hebrews. The centerpiece of this clearly Jewish Christian writing is the portrayal of Jesus as our great High Priest after the order of Melchizedek in chapters five through ten.

Just like the ritual of Yom Kippur, Christians are urged to "approach the throne of grace with confidence so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need" (Heb 4:16). But there is a very significant difference: Jesus our high priest does something for us that is non-repeatable and non-replaceable. He has entered into the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, on our behalf and offered himself, not the blood of bulls and goats but his own blood (Heb 6:19-20; 7:18, 26-28; 10). How effective was the self-sacrifice on our behalf and in our place? The author of Hebrews says it cleanses our consciences so that we may serve the living God! (Heb 9:14). He says it cleanses us once for all and that we no longer have to feel guilty for our sins! (Heb 10:2). The redemption Jesus accomplishes is called eternal (Heb 9:12) and it saves us completely (Heb 7:25).

As the author of Hebrews makes abundantly clear, believers in Christ are under a new covenant arrangement mediated by the blood of Jesus. There is no need to repeat the Yom Kippur ritual of the old covenant because our sins have been dealt with once and for all by the sinless one.

On the other hand, is there still some relevance for Christians in the Yom Kippur traditions of Judaism? I think there is. Although the guilt and penalty of our sins have been atoned for by Christ's death on the cross on our behalf, we are not turned into sinless people when we accept Christ as Savior. We still possess a fallen nature and we still commit sins. These must be dealt with. The penalty has already been paid but sin disrupts fellowship with a holy God. This break must be repaired. Here is where the Yom Kippur ceremonies can be helpful. The New Testament epistle make clear that post-conversion sins must be confessed and turned away from. In the words of John the Apostle: "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9). The difference from Judaism is that we shouldn't wait until once a year to confess our failings and faults: this should be on a daily or as needed basis. We need to keep short accounts with God. Don't let sins build up and choke our fellowship with God and neighbor. Let's clean house regularly. In the Christian tradition, the Lord's Supper serves as a wonderful opportunity to do precisely as the Apostle Paul requires: examine ourselves before we eat the bread and drink the cup (1 Corinthians 11:28).

In short, Yom Kippur can serve to awaken our Christian consciences to the seriousness of sin and the urgent necessity to seek daily his forgiveness and cleansing. Through the work of our great High Priest this is not an impossible dream; it's a living reality.

Modern Judaism has a dilemma. They have no sacrificial ritual anymore. The hope of a rebuilt and restored Temple complete with a sacrificial ritual is a pipe dream for a minority of Jews. Judaism in both its Orthodox and Reformed expressions substitutes good deeds and good intentions for blood sacrifice. I do not discount these expressions of piety; they are praiseworthy. The problem is they are woefully insufficient to deal with the root problem. Here is where the glory of the Gospel shines forth. In Christ our most basic problem has been dealt with and we have divine resources to deal with our ongoing struggle with sin. In Paul's words, we are saved by grace and it is by that same grace that we work out our salvation. May Jesus Christ be praised!

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Behold the man!

Well, we knew this would happen regularly during our stay in Israel and, sure enough, it already has. A new and in my opinion, convincing theory about the location of the infamous place "called the Pavement, and in Hebrew, Gabbatha" (John 19:13) has surfaced. Shimon Gibson, an archaeologist, believes this pavement is located just outside the Old City wall about midway between Jaffa Gate and the southern end of the west side of the Old City wall.

Scholars are pretty much agreed that the Via Dolorossa, traversed by literally millions of tourists and pilgrims since its inception in the 18th century, is not historically accurate. There is a consensus that Pilate would have taken up residence in Herod's Palace which was located south of David's citadel and covered much of what is called today the Armenian Quarter. This photograph is looking south along the line of the Turkish wall built by Suleiman the Magnificent in the 16th century. By the way, the road in the right center of the picture leads to the campus of JUC. Notice the Armenian Quarter parking lot just inside the wall. Herod's courtyard would have covered that area (and more).

What Gibson has done, however, is posit a credible location for the actual Gabbatha or Pavement. Earlier in his excavations under Magen Broshi during the 1970's, Gibson had helped uncover a portion of the courtyard of Herod's Palace. Here is a photograph of a model of Jerusalem during the time of Jesus showing Herod's splendid palace and grounds. Note the two building complexes. The one on the left (or north) probably consisted of service buildings, and the one on the right (south) served as a barracks. This is where Pilate stayed when he was in Jerusalem.

So much has been generally agreed upon. What Gibson now maintains is that he has identified the steps leading up to a gate granting access to the courtyard area of Herod's palace, a gate Josephus (a first century Jewish historian) called "the Essene Gate." I'm not convinced about this being the Essene Gate, but what I do find compelling is his claim that the steps and gate area are where the "judgment seat" (John 19:13) was located and where Pilate uttered the famous words, 'Behold the man "(John 19:5) and where he finally handed Jesus over to the religious authorities to be crucified (John 19:16).

Seen here is a photograph of the Turkish wall viewed from the west. On the other side of the wall is the Armenian Quarter parking lot shown earlier. Notice that right at the base of the wall is an outcropping of stone and in the foreground one sees what appears to be steps leading up to that outcropping.

Shown here is a photograph I took this past week of Joyce standing on one of those steps on the outcropping. It would appear that they originally led up to a gate admitting one to Herod's courtyard. Notice how the Turkish wall rests on top of the earlier Herodian era stones, a not uncommon thing in this most uncommon city.


Seen below is Gibson's reconstruction of what the steps and gate area might have looked like with Jesus seen standing at the top and visible to the crowds below. The area would easily accommodate hundreds of spectators. If this reconstruction is correct, Joyce is standing very close to the place where Jesus stood condemned!

In the words of the old hymn: "Bearing shame and scoffing rude, In my place condemned he stood; Sealed my pardon with his blood. Hallelujah! What a Savior!"




































Saturday, August 28, 2010

Shabbat in Jerusalem



Shabbat (Sabbath) means "to cease from one's labor." We have just experienced our first Shabbat since arriving in Jerusalem on Tuesday. In keeping with a very long Jewish tradition, which can already be seen in the days of Genesis One (where each day begins with evening), Shabbat begins at sundown Friday evening and concludes at sundown Saturday evening. It is now Saturday evening and the sun just sank below the western ridge opposite JUC as I write this line. The entire day has been notable in terms of quietness. Traffic was minimal and the hubbub of a modern city almost completely absent. Okay, just as I wrote this last line, I heard an automobile honking because Shabbat is now over and activity will soon pick up on what is called motzaei Shabbat ("the going out of Sabbath). Tomorrow (Sunday), once again, the din of city noises will be constant background noise.

There is something to be said for practicing Shabbat. Most evangelical Christians no longer observe Sabbath (on Sunday, of course!) like previous generations of evangelicals did. We have adapted to the neck break pace of modern American society and work hard and play hard. That leaves little room for contemplating God's being and his expressed will for us in Scripture. The Psalmist says, "Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). We "do church" and assume we have fulfilled our obligation and honored God by doing so. But even doing church has to be programed into our crammed schedules.

Perhaps we can learn from the Jewish tradition of Sabbath keeping, not in a legalistic or mystical approach, but in a fresh realization that ceasing from our normal work schedule and setting aside time to listen to and contemplate the Master of the Universe is essential for our overall well-being . Transposed into a Christian context this means attuning ourselves to the Triune God. Such an exercise is a powerful means of becoming more like Christ. And when we become more like Christ, we relate to others in a more Christ-like manner and more effectively advance the kingdom of God, a rather counterintuitive idea by North American standards.

The prophet Amos had some trenchant remarks for his generation concerning their "religious performances." In a piece of biting sarcasm the prophet tells the people of Israel (the northern kingdom) that their sacrifices, tithes and offerings, which they "love to do," only multiplies their transgressions (Amos 4:4-5). In short, what God desires is not solemn assemblies, burnt offerings, the noise of songs and melody of harps (Amos 5:21-23), but living in obedience to his will.

Living in obedience to God's will is not something that happens simply because I schedule an appointment with God on my iPod Touch for one hour once a week. It will almost certainly require setting aside more time to listen to the Master of the Universe. In short, our evangelical ancestors would almost certainly chide us for our lax Sabbath observance. And , you know- "what ? They would have a good point. We should seriously reconsider our whole attitude towards the Christian Sabbath. I intend to do so.

May your Christian Sabbath be an enriching experience tomorrow!

Thursday, August 12, 2010





















National Self-interest and the Middle East

The new Prime Minister of the UK, David Cameron, has recently been highly critical of the Israeli policy with regard to Gaza, especially its naval blockade. But it's refreshing to see someone from the UK chide Mr. Cameron for so obviously playing to the gallery (in this case the Turkish government and people) based on national self-interest and economic concerns. The person in question is Dr. Calvin L. Smith, Principal of King’s Evangelical Divinity School in Wolverhampton, UK and his comments may be read on his website at www.calvinlsmith.com. Dr. Smith goes even further and laments some of Great Britain's mistakes in its past Middle East foreign policy, mistakes that have played a leading role, unfortunately, in creating the current Middle East crisis. As an American I have to be very careful here because it's easy to be self-righteous and judgmental. I need to say upfront that the US has committed enough sins in foreign policy to go around for everyone.

His comments lead me to offer some further thoughts. It should not be forgotten that it was a distinguished British evangelical, Lord Arthur James Balfour, seen here in this photograph, who played a key role in the rebirth of the modern State of Israel. He was instrumental in drafting the Balfour Declaration of 1917 which states: “His majesty’s government views with favor the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people.” This declaration was an incredible shot in the arm for the Zionist Movement which had been struggling for several decades to reestablish a Jewish state in the ancestral homeland.

Prior to the Balfour Declaration, Zionism’s most visible spokesperson had been the Austrian born Jew, Theodor Herzl, seen here in this photograph. Herzl, hat in hand, even made a junket to Istanbul requesting permission from the Turkish Sultan to purchase land for a Jewish state in Palestine. He was of course curtly denied and dismissed. Meanwhile, Baron Edmond Benjamin James de Rothschild (a Frenchman of the Rothschild banking family) underwrote pioneering Jewish settlements in Palestine and bought up any available land from Arab landholders (many of them absentee), however desolate and unproductive, at greatly inflated prices. Herzl spoke widely at public rallies on behalf of Zionism and presided over the first World Jewish Congress in 1897 devoted to the establishment of a Jewish state in the Land of Israel. These fledgling efforts, however, were more inspirational than substantive.

The Balfour Declaration, on the other hand, was a huge breakthrough. The World Zionist Organization–London Bureau sent out a manifesto addressed to the Jewish People. In this document the Zionist leadership declared that the Balfour Declaration “marks the end of an epoch, and it opens up the beginning of a new era. . . the period which now begins is fulfillment.”

But the buoyancy and optimism of 1917 was soon followed by anti-Jewish riots in May, 1921. Arabs, incited by the anti-Semitic rabble-rouser, Haj Amin el-Husseini, carried out deadly attacks on Jewish communities. Husseini, seen here with a Nazi soldier in Germany, was enthusiatic about the Nazi program to make Germany Judenrein and hoped to do the same in Palestine. In 1929 Arabs nearly wiped out the entire Jewish community of Hebron. The Jews formed self-defense units called the Haganah, trained in large part by the British officer, Major Charles Orde Wingate shown here. On the whole, however, the British Mandatory government in Palestine was not sympathetic to the Jewish cause and favored the Arabs. In fact, in May of 1939, the British Secretary of State presented a statement of policy on Palestine, a “white paper,” in which immigration and land purchases by Jews were curtailed. This of course came at the very time when Jews desperately needed a safe haven from the Nazis.

After WWII, in the aftermath of the Holocaust, world Jewry thought surely the British would reopen the gates to Palestine. Instead, the British restricted Jewish immigration even more. The British Foreign Office, with a view to strategic national interests (read here especially OIL), continued a determined policy of currying the favor of the emerging Arab states (hence Dr. Calvin Smith’s comparison to Mr. Cameron). Tragically, the US had also refused to open its doors to Jewish refugees fleeing the Nazi regime in Germany. The US Congress had already passed an immigration law in 1922 that had choked off the influx of Jews to a mere trickle and the national sentiment was overwhelmingly isolationist and strongly opposed to immigration (Hmm. Does this sound vaguely familiar?)

In short, the British government both radically reinterpreted and quietly ignored the Balfour Declaration. If one is guided only by national self-interest, this is perfectly understandable. After all, who would have predicted that a Jewish state could survive anyway in a sea of Islam? Many of the actions and policies of British officials and military leaders in Palestine during the troubled days following WWII clearly favored the Arab cause. This has been vividly depicted in the book O Jerusalem! by Dominque LaPierre and Larry Collins. I highly recommend this for all who want to understand some of the historical background to the present impasse.

During this period of the Mandate, the British government increasingly found itself caught between a rock and a hard place. Promises made earlier to both Jews and Arabs simply could not be kept which in turn led to bitter recrimination and even terrorism directed at British soldiers and officials in Palestine. In hindsight, the Balfour Declaration contains aspirations that now seem naive. How precisely can one have a Jewish home in Palestine without prejudicing the civil and religious rights of non-Jewish communities in Palestine? It would appear that even Solomon in all his wisdom would be hard-pressed to pull this one off!

On November 29, 1947, the UN General Assembly voted to partition Palestine into two states, one Jewish and the other Arab. On May 14, 1948 Israel declared herself an independent nation and the very next day was invaded by the armies of six neighboring Arab states. Remarkably, some would even say, miraculously, Israel not only survived but increased its territory initially allotted by the UN Partition Plan. Now here we are, some 62 years and 5 wars later, and there is still no independent Palestinian state. The reasons for this are various and highly disputed. But that is the subject of a future blog.

I leave off with this sad observation: nationalistic self-interest and indifference, whether on the part of the UK or the US, has resulted in great human tragedy for both Arabs and Jews. I fervently hope that in the not too distant future a comprehensive settlement can be implemented with Israel and a Palestinian state living side by side in peace. Surely all evangelicals of whatever nationality and political persuasion can join together and respond to the Psalmist's urgent request: "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem."(Ps 122:6). May it happen speedily and in our day!