I’ve just returned from a visit to Jerusalem, and, boy, is my brain tired.
We know, or at least we should know, that biblical references to Zion or Israel or Jacob or triumphal entries into the gates of Jerusalem have nothing to do with what happened in 1948 or 1967. We know that the modern state of Israel is not the Kingdom of Israel or Judah spoken of in Scripture, despite the Chuck Hagees and Hal Lindsays and Cyrus Scofields and John Nelson Darbys of this world who suggest otherwise.
We know that the promises of Isaiah, or the words of John the Baptist, or the melodious ideas of the psalms are not connected to Bibi Netanyahu, settlement buildings, concrete walls, or checkpoints. We know these facts cerebrally. But in our gut, do we know and trust that Jesus is the fulfillment of the promises made to, not only ancient Israel, but also the rest of us? Do we know in our hearts that this Christ child in a manger is more than quaint mythology designed to keep us from falling into bitterness, despair and cynicism?
I think we want to. I think we want to believe, despite our unbelief and all evidence to the contrary, that God is actually a God of hope and healing, a God of Advent and apocalypse, a God who deeply cares whether people live or die, whether they suffer or not. Yet every time I read the word “Zion” in Scripture, every time I sing “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” with my family during our Advent devotions and come across the words “and ransom captive Israel,” I have to do a mental exercise to detach the modern state of Israel from the context of the song.
Sociologists and anthropologists have published articles regarding the decision of Zionists to name this modern state “Israel” and also their sharp logic in using biblical names for settlements, going so far as to call parts of the West Bank Judea or Samaria. The use of these terms lends authority to action — biblical authority which lends credibility to facts on the ground that would otherwise raise international eyebrows and outrage in a much more marked manner.
And trying to explain that crucial detail to passionate Christians all over the world can sometimes be an onerous burden, because if there is one thing passionate Christians don’t like hearing, it is that they have wrongly interpreted Scriptures that seem to fulfill modern day facts on the ground in the Holy Land. At the very least, it can make for very awkward family gatherings where everyone’s favorite uncle is wondering why we don’t support the building of settlements and at the very worst it provides the impetus for rich uncles to privately fund the construction of these settlements.
And it raises the question 2,000 years later as we sit in the prison of our doubts, wondering if Jesus really is going to bring peace with justice to Palestine/Israel where people are still being taxed, collectively punished, imprisoned and murdered in ways that are intended to keep the masses quiet and subservient.
Jesus, can you save us from this broken world? Can you redeem the use of words like “Zion” and “Israel” and “Jerusalem” without them having a modern political overtone? Jesus, can you ransom captive Israel and let the Holy Land experience peace with justice based on forgiveness and reconciliation, or are we to look for another?
We’re here in our prisons, Lord, wrestling with our doubts. We’re waiting for your kingdom, we’re waiting for your justice, we’re waiting because it is almost Advent. We’re sorry for doubting, but the world is painful to watch, Lord. Help us to hope against hope. Help us to have joy in the face of crippling tension.
The theologian Karl Rahner summed up this feeling well when he wrote: “Ask not, doubt not, you have, my heart, already chosen the joy of Advent. As a force against your own uncertainty, bravely tell yourself, ‘It is the Advent of the great God.’ Say this with faith and love, and then both the past of your life, which has become holy, and your life’s eternal, boundless future will draw together in the now of this world. For then into the heart comes the one who is Advent, the boundless future who is already in the process of coming, the Lord, who has already come into the time of the flesh to redeem it.”
Jesus came to the Holy Land 2,000 years ago in order that what we say and do here and now will have meaning and purpose. As we sit in the shadow of the place where Jesus gave himself to show love’s true sacrifice for the world, we must hope against hope that Advent is real, Christ is coming again, and injustice will not have the last word. Come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Palestine. Give us the ability to sing, without irony or misunderstanding that when we use the word “Israel,” we are truly calling for the redemption of all creation. And let us sing without a shadow of irony or misunderstanding, Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel, shall come to you O Israel.
