Some of you have expressed interest in knowing how we are formatting the discussions I've been posting about related to the previous Sunday's worship service. So I've pasted the outline below. Scot Headley came up with it.
Normal flow of Wednesday night
Greeting
Prayer
Summary from previous week’s work
Reports from group on previous week's work
Introduction of last Sunday’s service
Application exercise (questions about last week's service, discussion)
Summary
Close
Suggested process
1. Participate in worship service, take notes.
2. Later in the day on Sunday, spend a few minutes reflecting on the meaning of the service and pray for guidance in application.
3. Between Sunday and Wednesday, write a brief reflection paper. Use the following prompts as a guide. Choose several of these prompts to use as guides in thinking, writing, conversation and prayer.
--What were key themes that were present in the service?
--Do you sense a continuous flow during the meeting,
--How did you feel and what were you thinking during the time?
--What confusion or lack of clarity did you take away from the service?
--What are you prompted to do as a result of the sermon?
--What passages of scripture come to mind, what can you read to extend the learning about this service?
4. Engage others in conversation on Wednesday night. Make commitment for continued reflection and an application. Explore scripture passages and other related readings
Write one more follow up prior to next Sunday’s service ( a brief journal entry or two).
5. Notice, reflect, pray and report.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
technology in worship & other thoughts
Here are my thoughts from week 2 of a Wednesday night group where we meet and discuss the worship service in order to have accountability to actually spend time meditating on it rather than just enjoying the service and forgetting about it when we leave the building.
“Welcome to the Gospel Story”
Romans 1:16, “I am not ashamed of the gospel”
Stan Thornburg
Although it was not intentionally the theme of the service, technology kind of became the theme for what I was thinking about in worship. When we walked in, Lynn told me we were without sound for the morning, because one of the amps had apparently gone out. Luckily some parts of the sound system were apparently working, so the main mic worked and any sound running out of the computer worked through the speakers, but the mics for the musicians weren't working. (Makes me miss the simplicity of unprogrammed worship, for sure!)
As one of the pastors put it, this was supposed to be a technology-heavy service, so of course the sound went out! But really it worked out, because everything that we really need amplification for worked, and the musicians sounded great without mics. We could hear the congregation better and we could still hear the lead voices and instruments.
It was “Yearly Meeting Sunday,” which we have, I don't know, a couple times a year? We focus on our connection with Northwest Yearly Meeting in various ways. This time we watched a short video of Quaker students from George Fox University sharing why they're Quakers and why they chose to go to Fox (you can watch it on YouTube here). We also talked via Skype to a couple from NWYM who are “Friends Serving Abroad” in Russia. It was cool to be able to have them “visit” and share with us what they're doing, how their ministry is going and how we can be praying for them.
Another thing technologically related was that I forgot to bring my journal, so since I've committed to doing this Wednesday night group and part of that is taking notes during worship, I decided I'd just use my iPod Touch to take notes. My father-in-law glared at me at first, but I explained what I was doing and he rolled his eyes and said, “Well, OK...”
It felt a little strange to be taking notes on my iPod because it is so technological (I mean, not as technological as an iPhone, of course, but the same idea). It felt a little out of place in worship. And yet, everything for taking notes was at one point a new technology, right? Bringing a journal and a pen to worship was probably also looked down upon as unnecessary in simple Quaker meetings at some point, right? Whether that makes it any better or not is another question, perhaps. I didn't really like it because it takes a long time to type stuff—much longer than writing. But it was better than nothing.
Stan started off his sermon with jokes about technology, mostly emphasizing how silly we all are when we complain about some amazing technology not working, but when it's working fine we forget to be amazed at the fact that we can do something like talk in real time with people in Russia.
He continued his sermon, bringing up the question, “Why would the gospel be something one would be ashamed of?” I thought this was a really important question. He suggested that for early Christ-followers, it would be a bit embarrassing to be proclaiming and following one who was executed as a criminal. I think today we're more likely to be ashamed because of the old fashioned nature of the way many explain our faith, or because of how many who profess Christianity act in the name of Christ, although we don't think what they're doing has any bearing on what Jesus actually said and did.
He quoted Stanley Hauerwas who was quoting someone else, saying essentially that Christianity will be accessible to each culture and generation as it takes the form of an invitation into the ongoing gospel story. The gospel story is bigger than simply the life of Jesus in the flesh; we continue the gospel story as we live out our faith. We're representatives of Christ—we ARE the gospel in our culture. We're not just telling “the old, old story,” although that's part of it. We're participating in that story and inviting others into it.
Stan also mentioned something else that I really appreciated. He said theology isn't the originating principle in our lives, but it's out of our listening and the ways we're called that we form our theology. I think this gets at the heart of some of the theology that was done in seminary, or that we read. In my opinion, we can't just create a nice systematic theology and call it good just because it all fits together and makes logical sense. We create a theology based on our experience of God speaking into our lives. Part of this is through the Bible and through knowing stories of faithful people across time, but part of it is unique to our own context: where and when we're born, our personal family history and genetic make-up. God speaks into this specifically and we get to be an unique piece of the story that is the gospel story, the story of the way Christ is at work in the world.
“Welcome to the Gospel Story”
Romans 1:16, “I am not ashamed of the gospel”
Stan Thornburg
Although it was not intentionally the theme of the service, technology kind of became the theme for what I was thinking about in worship. When we walked in, Lynn told me we were without sound for the morning, because one of the amps had apparently gone out. Luckily some parts of the sound system were apparently working, so the main mic worked and any sound running out of the computer worked through the speakers, but the mics for the musicians weren't working. (Makes me miss the simplicity of unprogrammed worship, for sure!)
As one of the pastors put it, this was supposed to be a technology-heavy service, so of course the sound went out! But really it worked out, because everything that we really need amplification for worked, and the musicians sounded great without mics. We could hear the congregation better and we could still hear the lead voices and instruments.
It was “Yearly Meeting Sunday,” which we have, I don't know, a couple times a year? We focus on our connection with Northwest Yearly Meeting in various ways. This time we watched a short video of Quaker students from George Fox University sharing why they're Quakers and why they chose to go to Fox (you can watch it on YouTube here). We also talked via Skype to a couple from NWYM who are “Friends Serving Abroad” in Russia. It was cool to be able to have them “visit” and share with us what they're doing, how their ministry is going and how we can be praying for them.
Another thing technologically related was that I forgot to bring my journal, so since I've committed to doing this Wednesday night group and part of that is taking notes during worship, I decided I'd just use my iPod Touch to take notes. My father-in-law glared at me at first, but I explained what I was doing and he rolled his eyes and said, “Well, OK...”
It felt a little strange to be taking notes on my iPod because it is so technological (I mean, not as technological as an iPhone, of course, but the same idea). It felt a little out of place in worship. And yet, everything for taking notes was at one point a new technology, right? Bringing a journal and a pen to worship was probably also looked down upon as unnecessary in simple Quaker meetings at some point, right? Whether that makes it any better or not is another question, perhaps. I didn't really like it because it takes a long time to type stuff—much longer than writing. But it was better than nothing.
Stan started off his sermon with jokes about technology, mostly emphasizing how silly we all are when we complain about some amazing technology not working, but when it's working fine we forget to be amazed at the fact that we can do something like talk in real time with people in Russia.
He continued his sermon, bringing up the question, “Why would the gospel be something one would be ashamed of?” I thought this was a really important question. He suggested that for early Christ-followers, it would be a bit embarrassing to be proclaiming and following one who was executed as a criminal. I think today we're more likely to be ashamed because of the old fashioned nature of the way many explain our faith, or because of how many who profess Christianity act in the name of Christ, although we don't think what they're doing has any bearing on what Jesus actually said and did.
He quoted Stanley Hauerwas who was quoting someone else, saying essentially that Christianity will be accessible to each culture and generation as it takes the form of an invitation into the ongoing gospel story. The gospel story is bigger than simply the life of Jesus in the flesh; we continue the gospel story as we live out our faith. We're representatives of Christ—we ARE the gospel in our culture. We're not just telling “the old, old story,” although that's part of it. We're participating in that story and inviting others into it.
Stan also mentioned something else that I really appreciated. He said theology isn't the originating principle in our lives, but it's out of our listening and the ways we're called that we form our theology. I think this gets at the heart of some of the theology that was done in seminary, or that we read. In my opinion, we can't just create a nice systematic theology and call it good just because it all fits together and makes logical sense. We create a theology based on our experience of God speaking into our lives. Part of this is through the Bible and through knowing stories of faithful people across time, but part of it is unique to our own context: where and when we're born, our personal family history and genetic make-up. God speaks into this specifically and we get to be an unique piece of the story that is the gospel story, the story of the way Christ is at work in the world.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
worship reflection: international day of peace
As I said in my last post, our meeting's fall small groups just started up last Wednesday night, and I chose a group that is focusing on reflecting on and sharing about our Sunday morning worship times. Part of that class is homework: we are supposed to write a reflection before we come to the Wednesday night group. So I thought I'd share that reflection with you, especially since today is the International Day of Peace, and that's what we focused on last Sunday.
Celebration of the International Day of Peace
Matthew 5:8 “Blessed are the peacemakers”
Worship this week focused on peace at all levels. There was not a sermon, but there were options of various things we could do during the sermon slot. We could walk the Peace Trail and read quotes posted there; we could walk a labyrinth set up in the gym; we could sit in the sanctuary and meditate on queries or quotes; we could walk around the sanctuary and read quotes posted on the walls; we could write or draw on a peace flag.
I chose to walk the trail. It was a beautiful day and I love being out in nature, especially when I'm intentionally trying to pay attention to God. I should do this more often! I found myself being a little bit annoyed at people (from our congregation!) who were just chatting as they walked along the trail. It was OK if it had to do with the theme, but otherwise it got on my nerves. I had to just let that go, and I thought about the fact that one of the ways we build peace is through relationships—so hopefully these people were building relationships that create more peace in the world.
We were encouraged to pay attention to an image or word that surfaced during this time. For me the image of walking, holding a little hand came to mind. I do this often these days, but was not at the moment—E was happily in his “place of worship,” as we refer to it at NVFC. But I thought about how everyone should walk like they're holding the hand of a child, whether it's literally true or simply figurative.
Why? I wondered. Well, when you walk with a little child's hand in yours, you are drawn into the child's world, which is often a world of wonder, attention to detail, and many, many questions. It also requires you to slow down, which necessitates patience, a sense of play, and interest in what's going on around you. Holding the hand of a small child also often means that you are helping them. You have their safety in mind, you're watching out to make sure they're not hurt or endangered, because you love them.
I thought walking through life with this kind of perspective would be helpful to anyone and make the world a more peaceful place. The last part, about thinking of the safety of the other and making sure that we're being helpful, can turn condescending, but I think if we have that sense of protective love rather than paternalism, that it can also be a beautiful way to think of other human beings.
Another noticing I had was that I really appreciated having a couple of ladies from China walking the trail, with Scot explaining things to them and introducing them to people. Although some people got on my nerves for talking, this did not. I thought this was an excellent way to foster peace. These women are here learning English and finding out about American culture. I'm glad they're finding out about Quakerism! And I think it's just this kind of international relationship-building that can create the most peace worldwide.
I also thought about the verse Romans 12:17, which says, “If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone,” because it was posted along the trail. I thought about how this doesn't mean we live without conflict with everyone. Sometimes it will look like we're creating conflict because we're not willing to let it just be covered over. But living peaceably often requires a rejection of the smooth adoption of the status quo. When we do that it looks like we're just being ornery, or we're just troublemakers—rebels without a cause or something. But when there truly is a cause, it is necessary to create conflict in order to live at peace with all people.
It's so hard, though, because it's so easy for me as an American to just live in a place that looks like it's peaceful, and yet it's a false peace. I'm not living at peace with others, because the things I have and the lifestyle I lead make it impossible for others to have enough.
Reflecting on this thought later I realized I often make the automatic connection between peace and the amount and dispersal of available resources. This is partially true—fighting over resources causes a great deal of conflict in a non-productive way. But part of these resources are not physical, some of them are emotional, as in situations of abuse, etc. And really, we can fight no matter how many or how few resources we have. Living at peace is more about our inward state, although it often also has to do with our outward state.
In order to live peaceably we must have humility: to see the world through other people's eyes, to love one another so much that we'll keep each other out of harm's way to the extent we would our own child, to walk through the world never losing that childlike sense of wonder.
Celebration of the International Day of Peace
Matthew 5:8 “Blessed are the peacemakers”
Worship this week focused on peace at all levels. There was not a sermon, but there were options of various things we could do during the sermon slot. We could walk the Peace Trail and read quotes posted there; we could walk a labyrinth set up in the gym; we could sit in the sanctuary and meditate on queries or quotes; we could walk around the sanctuary and read quotes posted on the walls; we could write or draw on a peace flag.
I chose to walk the trail. It was a beautiful day and I love being out in nature, especially when I'm intentionally trying to pay attention to God. I should do this more often! I found myself being a little bit annoyed at people (from our congregation!) who were just chatting as they walked along the trail. It was OK if it had to do with the theme, but otherwise it got on my nerves. I had to just let that go, and I thought about the fact that one of the ways we build peace is through relationships—so hopefully these people were building relationships that create more peace in the world.
We were encouraged to pay attention to an image or word that surfaced during this time. For me the image of walking, holding a little hand came to mind. I do this often these days, but was not at the moment—E was happily in his “place of worship,” as we refer to it at NVFC. But I thought about how everyone should walk like they're holding the hand of a child, whether it's literally true or simply figurative.
Why? I wondered. Well, when you walk with a little child's hand in yours, you are drawn into the child's world, which is often a world of wonder, attention to detail, and many, many questions. It also requires you to slow down, which necessitates patience, a sense of play, and interest in what's going on around you. Holding the hand of a small child also often means that you are helping them. You have their safety in mind, you're watching out to make sure they're not hurt or endangered, because you love them.
I thought walking through life with this kind of perspective would be helpful to anyone and make the world a more peaceful place. The last part, about thinking of the safety of the other and making sure that we're being helpful, can turn condescending, but I think if we have that sense of protective love rather than paternalism, that it can also be a beautiful way to think of other human beings.
Another noticing I had was that I really appreciated having a couple of ladies from China walking the trail, with Scot explaining things to them and introducing them to people. Although some people got on my nerves for talking, this did not. I thought this was an excellent way to foster peace. These women are here learning English and finding out about American culture. I'm glad they're finding out about Quakerism! And I think it's just this kind of international relationship-building that can create the most peace worldwide.
I also thought about the verse Romans 12:17, which says, “If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone,” because it was posted along the trail. I thought about how this doesn't mean we live without conflict with everyone. Sometimes it will look like we're creating conflict because we're not willing to let it just be covered over. But living peaceably often requires a rejection of the smooth adoption of the status quo. When we do that it looks like we're just being ornery, or we're just troublemakers—rebels without a cause or something. But when there truly is a cause, it is necessary to create conflict in order to live at peace with all people.
It's so hard, though, because it's so easy for me as an American to just live in a place that looks like it's peaceful, and yet it's a false peace. I'm not living at peace with others, because the things I have and the lifestyle I lead make it impossible for others to have enough.
Reflecting on this thought later I realized I often make the automatic connection between peace and the amount and dispersal of available resources. This is partially true—fighting over resources causes a great deal of conflict in a non-productive way. But part of these resources are not physical, some of them are emotional, as in situations of abuse, etc. And really, we can fight no matter how many or how few resources we have. Living at peace is more about our inward state, although it often also has to do with our outward state.
In order to live peaceably we must have humility: to see the world through other people's eyes, to love one another so much that we'll keep each other out of harm's way to the extent we would our own child, to walk through the world never losing that childlike sense of wonder.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
silence...of the not-so-good kind
Well, I haven't blogged much lately. I hope to start again soon, but I'm always saying that, right?
At our meeting we just started back into our fall small groups tonight, and I'm in a group on sermon discussion--and our leader assigns homework! So I might post some thoughts and reflections on the worship services we'll be having this fall since I'll be writing them anyway, if I'm doing my homework. I'm excited, actually! It taps into my inner nerd (as if it was so far away) as well as helping me be more reflective and take space to actually internalize and work on stuff God is saying on Sunday mornings. Somehow that's so easy to forget throughout the week.
What else have I been up to? Well...
This summer I worked as my husband's 2nd photographer, so check out some of our work here: http://blog.joelbockphotography.com
We also went to two camps this summer, a middle school and a high school camp. We both served as camp elders at the middle school one, and I clerked the worship/speaking team at the high school one. Both were fun and lots of work, but we go back every year!
And we're having a 2nd baby in December! It's a boy. I'm feeling fine so far but it's getting a little more difficult to ride a bike.
Other than that we've been hanging out with people, trying to work on the new house when we can, hanging out with the kiddo, camping for a few days, and other random adventures along the way.
At our meeting we just started back into our fall small groups tonight, and I'm in a group on sermon discussion--and our leader assigns homework! So I might post some thoughts and reflections on the worship services we'll be having this fall since I'll be writing them anyway, if I'm doing my homework. I'm excited, actually! It taps into my inner nerd (as if it was so far away) as well as helping me be more reflective and take space to actually internalize and work on stuff God is saying on Sunday mornings. Somehow that's so easy to forget throughout the week.
What else have I been up to? Well...
This summer I worked as my husband's 2nd photographer, so check out some of our work here: http://blog.joelbockphotography.com
We also went to two camps this summer, a middle school and a high school camp. We both served as camp elders at the middle school one, and I clerked the worship/speaking team at the high school one. Both were fun and lots of work, but we go back every year!
And we're having a 2nd baby in December! It's a boy. I'm feeling fine so far but it's getting a little more difficult to ride a bike.
Other than that we've been hanging out with people, trying to work on the new house when we can, hanging out with the kiddo, camping for a few days, and other random adventures along the way.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
immigration conference & blog
Once again I've been a blog slacker lately. I've been way busier than I'd like to be, but I guess it seems like that's how life is usually.Anyway, I just wanted to let you know about a new blog, organized by the Northwest Yearly Meeting Immigration Taskforce, that will hopefully open up a conversation about immigration issues and what some people are doing to help. The first real post went up today, and I think it's going to be updated once or twice a week.
It's also for the purpose of putting some food for thought out there for a conference we're sponsoring, along with Mennonite Central Committee and George Fox University. If you're in the Northwest, consider coming to the conference, called "Christians and Immigration in a Land of Contradictions." It will be Oct 1-2, 2010, at George Fox University in Newberg, OR. You can go here to register. I think it's just $20 if you register by Sept. 17 ($10 for students).
Thursday, June 03, 2010
the cloister walk
OK, so another of the promised book reviews...I keep reading books on top of the ones I've already said I'll blog about so I'm about 10 books behind or so!
Anyway, The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris is a great book. A quote on the cover describes it as similar to a lectio divina, which is a way of deeply meditating on a few lines of text, generally from the Bible. But I think it is necessary to read this book in that way. Not as scripture, of course, but in a sacred mind frame and slowly and meditatively enough that it can sink in. It's not a novel and shouldn't be read like one, because the point is the slow rhythm of it. In tone it kind of reminded me of some of Annie Dillard, especially A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, because they both are so layered and full of depth that you can't take too much at a time. But the writing is beautiful, even about subjects about which you didn't know you were interested.
The Cloister Walk is about the author's journey as she tells us about her discovery of the monastic life. She is not herself a Catholic or a nun--in fact she's married. But she spends a great deal of time in monasteries and cloisters, sometimes doing writing or research or teaching, sometimes just being. When she's not living in such a community she attends services at nearby monasteries, and tries to participate frequently in the rhythm of the liturgical calendar and even the daily hours. She finds joy in the rhythm and repetition, and the quietness and (Friends might say) centeredness of so many monks and nuns she meets.
I find it interesting that in a world where ritual--at least spiritual ritual--is so lacking, many people are again drawn to it. I myself have had that experience. I had never participated in celebrating a traditional Passover until last year, when some Jewish friends invited us to their Paschal meal. It was so amazing! And yet, would I think so if I'd grown up with it? Maybe it's amazing because it's so novel, and at the same time we know that people have been practicing it for millenia. In our culture, maybe we let others carry on the ritual for us, and just enjoy those little dips in their depths that we get every once in a while without having to go through the drudgery of actually having to practice it day after day, year after year.
As a Quaker I find this cultural hunger for ritual intriguing. I mean, Friends have our own rituals, some similar to other denominations (like going to worship on Sunday mornings), even though we've rejected a lot of the obvious rituals. I personally like worshiping in places I know have been places of Friends worship for three and a half centuries, or even three centuries like the meetinghouse we attended in New Jersey. A place like that can take on a sense of depth and contemplation because it's set aside for that purpose. I imagine it's the same for Catholics with monasteries. To know monks and/or nuns have prayed, lived and worked in those rooms and chapels for years upon years must be something that brings one's spirit to a deeper level almost automatically, and maybe even the space can take on that sense. Or maybe it's just our own knowledge of that place that gives us the sense of awe about it, I don't know.
At any rate, it would be quite interesting to be immersed in the kind of spiritual attentiveness that occurs throughout the day for monks and nuns, to participate in attending all the hours as well as in the work of the community. It can't be easy to do all one's life, but it does seem a privilege to be able to do it for any length of time. It used to be that people couldn't join a monastery or nunnery unless they had enough money to give to the community, and I can see why--it seems like a huge privilege to be able to devote one's life so fully to prayer and contemplation. It's a privilege in a strange way, but one that perhaps we all wish we could do in some form: set our lives free of other distractions and just focus on the Ultimate. At least by reading Norris's book we can set aside a little of our time and move into the rhythms of that form of spiritual life for a time.
Anyway, The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris is a great book. A quote on the cover describes it as similar to a lectio divina, which is a way of deeply meditating on a few lines of text, generally from the Bible. But I think it is necessary to read this book in that way. Not as scripture, of course, but in a sacred mind frame and slowly and meditatively enough that it can sink in. It's not a novel and shouldn't be read like one, because the point is the slow rhythm of it. In tone it kind of reminded me of some of Annie Dillard, especially A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, because they both are so layered and full of depth that you can't take too much at a time. But the writing is beautiful, even about subjects about which you didn't know you were interested.The Cloister Walk is about the author's journey as she tells us about her discovery of the monastic life. She is not herself a Catholic or a nun--in fact she's married. But she spends a great deal of time in monasteries and cloisters, sometimes doing writing or research or teaching, sometimes just being. When she's not living in such a community she attends services at nearby monasteries, and tries to participate frequently in the rhythm of the liturgical calendar and even the daily hours. She finds joy in the rhythm and repetition, and the quietness and (Friends might say) centeredness of so many monks and nuns she meets.
I find it interesting that in a world where ritual--at least spiritual ritual--is so lacking, many people are again drawn to it. I myself have had that experience. I had never participated in celebrating a traditional Passover until last year, when some Jewish friends invited us to their Paschal meal. It was so amazing! And yet, would I think so if I'd grown up with it? Maybe it's amazing because it's so novel, and at the same time we know that people have been practicing it for millenia. In our culture, maybe we let others carry on the ritual for us, and just enjoy those little dips in their depths that we get every once in a while without having to go through the drudgery of actually having to practice it day after day, year after year.
As a Quaker I find this cultural hunger for ritual intriguing. I mean, Friends have our own rituals, some similar to other denominations (like going to worship on Sunday mornings), even though we've rejected a lot of the obvious rituals. I personally like worshiping in places I know have been places of Friends worship for three and a half centuries, or even three centuries like the meetinghouse we attended in New Jersey. A place like that can take on a sense of depth and contemplation because it's set aside for that purpose. I imagine it's the same for Catholics with monasteries. To know monks and/or nuns have prayed, lived and worked in those rooms and chapels for years upon years must be something that brings one's spirit to a deeper level almost automatically, and maybe even the space can take on that sense. Or maybe it's just our own knowledge of that place that gives us the sense of awe about it, I don't know.
At any rate, it would be quite interesting to be immersed in the kind of spiritual attentiveness that occurs throughout the day for monks and nuns, to participate in attending all the hours as well as in the work of the community. It can't be easy to do all one's life, but it does seem a privilege to be able to do it for any length of time. It used to be that people couldn't join a monastery or nunnery unless they had enough money to give to the community, and I can see why--it seems like a huge privilege to be able to devote one's life so fully to prayer and contemplation. It's a privilege in a strange way, but one that perhaps we all wish we could do in some form: set our lives free of other distractions and just focus on the Ultimate. At least by reading Norris's book we can set aside a little of our time and move into the rhythms of that form of spiritual life for a time.
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
peace activists killed trying to reach gaza by sea
Did you all hear about this? Yesterday early in the morning the Israeli military attacked a peaceful (unarmed) flotilla of six ships carrying hundreds of peace activists from around the world, as well as humanitarian supplies. It sounds like some dignitaries from various places were also aboard the ship. The news reports aren't sure how many people died, but at least two and up to fifteen. The New York Times says nine, but it sounds like they haven't had access to interview anyone on the ships and have to take the Israeli military's word for it--and videos from the flotilla's perspective are available on YouTube.
When they were attacked they were in international waters in the Mediterranean.
Israel says Gaza is its own nation but keeps people from entering via land (which would have to take place via Israel, or by a small border with Egypt), and even by sea, even for bringing humanitarian aid. No matter what you think about the conflict between Israel and Palestine, it's pretty obvious that unarmed peace activists bringing much-needed food and supplies to civilians should not be murdered.
Here are links to some of the news reports on this:
New York Times
Al-Jazeerah composite
The Huffington Post
When they were attacked they were in international waters in the Mediterranean.
Israel says Gaza is its own nation but keeps people from entering via land (which would have to take place via Israel, or by a small border with Egypt), and even by sea, even for bringing humanitarian aid. No matter what you think about the conflict between Israel and Palestine, it's pretty obvious that unarmed peace activists bringing much-needed food and supplies to civilians should not be murdered.
Here are links to some of the news reports on this:
New York Times
Al-Jazeerah composite
The Huffington Post
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