Palestinian – 11:3 Restoration

IMG-20161015-WA0003 I woke with a jolt, realizing that I did not know where I was. The sheets and pillow felt different in the darkened room. The sounds were all wrong. I lay motionless, frozen, waiting for the fog to lift from my mind as my eyes glanced around the room in an attempt to orient myself.

At the same time, strangely, the story of Solomon, the two harlots and the baby was playing in the corners of my awareness. Slowly, I began to recall my surroundings. Kelly and I had fallen into bed exhausted the night before from hours of travel and late arrival at Tzemach’s guest house in Giv’at Ye’arim, Israel. It was Shabbat morning and we were again in the Land of the Patriarchs!

But, why Solomon? I pondered before slowly getting out of bed to stand on the outer porch with a cup of hot tea to listen to the birds as the sun climbed higher in the sky. I had been considering the whole division of the baby a week earlier, but it seemed an odd thing to wake thinking about. I pushed it to the back of my mind with the excitement of the day. Continue reading “Solomon and the baby… today!”

My plans for the summer did not include reading or in any way weighing in on the discussion of Palestinians. Honestly, while I probably should have been more educated on the issue, I can say that aside from driving through Judea and Samaria during each of my last three trips to Israel and avoiding roads that have the big red and white ‘enter at your own risk’ warning signs, the Palestinians have not been on my mind. I’ve been minding my own business. Until a few weeks ago.

While the circumstances and players are not important to this article, a sequence of conversations and confrontations brought me face to face with a simple and very uncomfortable fact: what if I’m related to the Palestinians?

Now, some of you are chuckling because you know well my Swedish blue eyes and very European ancestry, even if I tan easily to a deep bronze. But seriously? What if I am related?

The simple truth is that I believe I am. Continue reading “Is hate the answer? Yishai Fleisher and the Palestinian Question”