As one of my
colleagues points out, it’s an irony of the human condition that power weakens
those who are most eager to exploit it.
The powerful are vulnerable not only to those who would take their power
from them, but also to the corrosive force of their own greed. In the Greek mythology, King Midas loves gold
so much that he wishes that everything he touches would turn to gold. His greed robs him of the things that
are essential for living. Food and drink
turn to gold at his lips, and he loses his beloved daughter in the very act of
embracing her. From the myth of King
Midas, we can learn that when we get what we covet or desire, it may not
bring us the happiness or security that we had hoped for.[1]
In the story we just heard from
ancient Israel, Naboth the Jezreelite had a vineyard in Jezreel. The Jezreel valley is very fertile, and the
name literally means “God planted.” This
land has been passed down through the generations in Naboth’s family.
Now, Naboth’s vineyard is beside one
of the palaces of King Ahab of Samaria.
The city of Samaria was the capital of Israel—the Northern Kingdom—for
about 200 years, and Ahab had a palace there, and also this one in Jezreel. Ahab wasn’t satisfied with his large
palace. He coveted Nabor’s vineyard, and
wanted to turn it into a vegetable garden.
So Ahab goes to Naboth and says, “Give me your vineyard, so that I may
have it for a vegetable garden, because it is near my house. I will give you a better vineyard for it. Or, if it seems good to you, I will give you
its value in money.”
But Naboth said to Ahab, “The LORD
forbid that I should give you my ancestral inheritance.”
Now, in a society where people move
from house to house, or relocate to another city or another state for work, it
may be hard to understand why this was such a big deal for Naboth. Although, as a gardener, I know how I have
stewarded the soil where I plant vegetables and flowers. I’ve planted a tree and some shrubs that have
taken time to grow. So I have a bit of
an understanding.
For Naboth and his family, his land
was his inheritance from his ancestors, which they understood as a gift from
God, which he is to pass down to his children.
According to the faith of Israel, even the king didn’t have the right to
confiscate the land of an Israelite farmer.[2]
So Ahab goes home to the palace
sullen and resentful because Naboth wouldn’t give up his land. He laid down on his bed, with his face to the
wall, and he refused to eat.
Queen Jezebel asks him, “Why are you
so depressed?” Ahab tells her that
Naboth wouldn’t give him what he wanted.
So Jezebel decides to take matters into her own hands. She writes letters in Ahab’s name and uses
his royal seal. And she arranges for two
scoundrels to bring false witness against Naboth. Based on this false testimony, Naboth is executed—stoned
to death.
As soon as Jezebel heard that Naboth
was dead, she told Ahab to go and take possession of the vineyard. When he got to the field he’d wanted so
much, what did he encounter? Satisfaction? Joy?
Peace?
No.
Instead, he met Elijah the prophet there, who delivered a word from the
LORD about Naboth’s death. “I have found
you. Because you have sold
yourself to do what is evil in the sight of the LORD, I will bring disaster
on you.” The story tells us that Ahab’s
household would also suffer consequences for how he and Jezebel had used the
system to oppress someone less powerful.
The passage ends with God saying to
Ahab through Elijah, “You will reap what you have shown. You have brought disaster, and you suffer
disaster.”
Is this a satisfactory ending? Naboth is dead. The livelihood and economic security of his
family is gone. Something terrible has
happened, and we don’t see a way to make things right. But we don’t want to leave saying
simply, “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” We want more from God. We want justice. At least I do.
I was working on this text earlier
this week, and I remembered a chapter in a book by the Rev. Dr. Mitri Raheb, in
which Mitri connects the story of Naboth’s Vineyard to Daher’s vineyard.[3] I pulled out the book and re-read the chapter
and wondered what has happened since the book was written almost 20 years ago,
so I did a Google search. It was then
that I made the connection with this and the notice I’d read in our church
bulletin about an event in Ann Arbor yesterday.
Daoud Nassar, grandson of Daher Nassar, and founder of The Tent of
Nations, was speaking at a Lutheran Church.
The scripture passage… the book by Mitri Raheb, the pastor of Christmas
Lutheran Church, whom I’ve met several times… and Daoud Nassar speaking in Ann
Arbor. It all came together.
Daher Nassar was an Arab Christian
from Lebanon. He and his family left
Lebanon at the beginning of the 20th century to start a new life,
and settled in Bethlehem. He bought a
piece of land on one of the hilltops.
Daher and his two sons began to
cultivate the land. It was full of
stones, thorns, and thistles. The family
remembers how much hard, sweaty labor it took over the years to clear it. They planted thousands of trees: grape vines, pomegranates, almonds, figs, and
olives. Over the years, the whole family
worked hard and joyfully. But then,
toward the end of the 1920’s the conflict between Jews and Arabs in Palestine
began to cast a long shadow, and things continued to get worse. But
the ties of the Nassar family to the land they love grew stronger.
Daher’s sons grew up, and one of
them moved onto the land and lived in a cave to be on the site. The land was so important to him that he was
willing to sacrifice a comfortable life living in Bethlehem and even stayed
unmarried. He lived in the cave on the
land for 35 years, until he died. Daher’s
other brother, Christian evangelist, died, leaving his wife and 9 children to
try to cultivate as much of the land as they were able.
In 1991 the Daher family learned
that the Israeli military government intended to confiscate most of their
land. The family has all the original registration
papers and records of the taxes they have paid, so they have been fighting ever
since to keep their land.
Over the years, the Israelis have
built settlements on other lands they have confiscated until the Nassar farm is
surrounded by five settlements. The
government has used legal action, force, and financial pressure to try to
confiscate the Nassar land.
As Daoud told us yesterday, there
are several possible responses to oppression and occupation. They might respond with violence… or resignation…
or by choosing to leave the land and emigrate.
But they respond by saying: We refuse to be victims. We refuse to hate. We live our faith. We believe in justice.
A large stone at the entrance to the
farm proclaims in several languages: “We
refuse to be enemies.”
The story of Naboth’s vineyard in
First Kings shows injustice as a dis-ordering of relationships: to the land, between neighbors, and of the
powerful to those who don’t have power. Justice and righteousness unravel when we lose
sight of who we are in relation to God, and when we fail to see our neighbor as
a beloved child of God.
In all of the Old Testament, the
office of prophet was to intervene wherever a responsible authority
breaks down, to bring a word from the LORD.
As Mitri Raheb reminds us, persons and institutions who are in this prophetic
tradition can not be silent in the face of Israel’s
policy of land confiscation. Nor can the
church of Jesus Christ, which honors the prophetic inheritance, avoid
intervening when a nation abuses its mandate.
In response to the attempts to
confiscate Daher’s vineyard, Christians from several different denominations
joined with Muslims and Jews from the peace movement, and several committees
were set up. One committee worked on the
legal implications. Another committee
worked to get a used tractor so they could help the family to cultivate the
land. Another committee got a variety of
young trees and other plants, and the planting was done by Christians, Muslims,
and Jews together, by near neighbors as well as Europeans and others. Another committee began doing public
relations. And another committee studied
how the land could be best used for not only the Daher family but for others as
well—especially the unemployed.
The Tent of Nations organization was
formed to carry on the work. Their
mission is about transforming their pain into a constructive power that leads
to a better future… protecting the land… building a bridge between people and
people—making the land a place of encounter for different people. It’s about building a bridge between LAND and
PEOPLE.
This is an ongoing struggle. At one point, settlers took out 250 of the
Nassar’s olive trees, but a Jewish human rights group from the U.K. replaced
them.
The Nassars can’t get permits to
build anything on their land, so they have renovated the caves and dug
underground. They can’t bring in
electricity, so they put up the first solar panels in Palestine and have plans
to build a wind turbine, which will need to be on wheels, as it can’t be
permanent.
There is no running water on the
land, and Israeli law makes it illegal for the Nassars to drill for water on
their land, so they depend on rain water collected in cisterns. A volunteer church group developed a system
for them to convert gray water for irrigation, and they use compost toilets.
Volunteer groups come to help on
agricultural and other projects.
The Tent of Nations holds a summer
camp for kids for 2 weeks in July that sounds like it has some similarities to
our Peace Camp.
In a nearby Muslim village, Daoud’s
wife and others are developing programs to empower women, teaching English
language, computer skills, first aid and health, and also teaching care of the
environment and the importance of recycling.[4]
As Daoud Nassar proclaims, the cross
was not the end of the story. The story
goes on. We are all God’s Easter people. Palestinian Christians in the Bethlehem area
who live their faith by putting faith, love, and hope into action are embodying
God’s love and making a prophetic witness to confront injustice and evil. Our Christian brothers and sisters inspire
and challenge us to join hands with them and be in solidarity with them, to
work together as we live into God’s kingdom of justice and peace.
Jesus came to live among us, full of
grace and truth, proclaiming good news for all people—a gospel of repentance
and transformation. Our faith calls us
to embody God’s love… to put our faith, hope, and love into action… to make a
prophetic witness to confront injustice and evil.
Thy Kingdom come, Lord.
Thy Kingdom come!
Amen.
[1]
Carolyn J. Sharp, in Feasting on the Word:
Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year C, Volume 3 (Westminster John
Knox Press, 2010), Location 4461 in Kindle edition.
[2]
Mitri Raheb, “Daher’s Vineyard,” in I Am
a Palestinian Christian (Fortress Press, 1995), p 49.
[3]
Mitri Raheb, I Am a Palestinian Christian,
p. 47.
[4]
For more information about the Tent of Nations, go to: http://www.tentofnations.org/
