Groanings Which Cannot Be Uttered

By Philip Martin     http://anchor.tfionline.com/post/groanings-which-cannot-be-uttered/

Today I had something happen to me that really brought home the term “keeping things in proper perspective.”

In art or architectural drawing, the term perspective means “the technique of representing three-dimensional objects and depth relationships on a two-dimensional surface.” In other words, to give it depth of field, the objects that are closer are drawn proportionally bigger to give the impression of nearness. Metaphorically it’s defined as “the ability to perceive things in their actual interrelations or comparative importance.”

Recently the actions of someone very dear to us, whom we had spent a lot of time helping, hurt us very deeply. It hurt us so much that for a while the pain and disappointment was all we could see. We even had to go away for a couple of days to try to get on top of things spiritually. We felt betrayed, taken for granted, and used.

“How could they do that to us after all we’ve done for them? I’ll never help them again.” We wanted to be vindicated. I didn’t see how we were going to get over it. This incident seemed so big to me, it was all I could focus on.

Before going to bed that night I was skimming the news headlines and articles in Yahoo.Ca, and there in the first series of articles was one about the tragic accidental death of a seven-year-old girl who was, at the time, being looked after by family friends. Maybe I shouldn’t have read it before bed, but I did, and the story really affected me.

Shortly after that I went to bed and throughout the night I found myself waking up with this deep groaning inside me for these two families. It was as if I wasn’t capable of finding words to express the sorrow I was feeling for them. Thoughts like, Oh my God, how could you live with that? How do you say you’re sorry? Where do you find the strength to forgive? Where would one begin to pick up the shattered pieces to begin anew?kept running through my mind.

Sometimes I would pray in tongues, but mostly it wasn’t like I was praying; it was more like my spirit, or the Lord’s Spirit, was groaning inside me. The only words I could sometimes say were, “Oh Jesus, please help them.” I prayed that they were Christians and knew the Lord and had Him in their lives to help bear their sorrows. The verse, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words,”1 kept coming to me, and I would think, Are these the “groanings” You’re speaking of here, Lord?

Needless to say, when I woke up I was still troubled in my spirit. I was looking for words of comfort, strength, and reassurance from the Lord that somehow things would be all right, and I guess I was seeking reassurance that my “groanings” were heard and to know that somehow those involved in this tragic loss would find the comfort they needed.

I turned on the Internet and in my email was a notification from the Anchor site of a new post, “The Power of Intercession.” As I read, there it was: my answer from the Lord, the words I needed. My hungry, troubled soul drank them in:

Prayers go out among the people. They touch, they heal, they mend. They give strength and courage. They lift up those who are down. They touch and heal hearts and bodies and minds. They wash away doubts and fears and worries. They wash away bitterness, envy, jealousy and strife. They kiss away heartache and misunderstandings. They soothe hurts, heal wounds, and remove scars.

Prayers guard and protect and hide away in safekeeping. They comfort and soothe and bring peace and calm. They feed, they clothe, and bring abundant supply. They inspire, they bring cheer, they bring laughter and good fortune. They encourage, they lift up, they motivate, they enrapture. They energize, they empower, they invigorate, they spark life. They shed light, they give hope. They stabilize and they make wise, they make firm and sound and steady.—Jesus, speaking in prophecy

In the light of what these people must be suffering, I realized the hurt and emotional pain I was experiencing seemed so minuscule. It was now in “proper perspective” and no longer blotting the light of the Lord’s will out of my vision. I also realized how blessed I was to know the Lord and to be able to carry my cares, problems, disappointments and heartaches to Him and know that He hears me and cares and will never allow me to be tempted or tried above what I’m able to bear.

After pausing for a bit just to meditate on the goodness of God for a moment and to sort of bask in the light of His comforting words, I opened a book that I’ve been reading for my devotions called Like Christ by Andrew Murray. As I opened it to where I had left off from my previous reading, the chapter I was to read today was “Like Christ: In Suffering Wrong.”

God’s timing is so perfect. Probably if I had read this the day before, I would have missed the beauty of the truth these words contained, because my spirit wasn’t in the proper place to receive their comforting light. As I read, the words seemed to come alive, and the more I read, the more I was set free. Here’s an excerpt:

There is almost nothing harder to bear than injustice from our fellow-men. It is not only the loss and pain: there is the feeling of humiliation and injustice, and the consciousness of our rights asserts itself.

His (Jesus’) first thought was not how to be delivered from it, but how to glorify God in it. This enabled Him to bear the greatest injustice quietly. He saw God’s hand in it.

Accustom yourself in everything that happens, to recognise the hand and will of God. God allows me to come into this trouble to see if I shall glorify Him in it. This trial, be it the greatest or least, is allowed by God, and is His will concerning, me. Let me first recognise and submit to God’s will in it. Then in the rest of soul which this gives, I shall receive wisdom to know how to behave in it. With my eye turned from man to God, suffering wrong is not as hard as it seems.

He, who lives in the eternal, and as seeing the Invisible, is satisfied to leave the vindication of his rights and honour in God’s hands; he knows that they are safe with Him. Give your right and your honour into God’s keeping.

Lord my God, I would now, once for all, give up the keeping of my honour and my rights into Thy hands, never more again myself to take charge of them. Thou wilt care for them most perfectly. May my only care be the honour and the rights of my Lord!2

Amen!


1 Romans 8:26 ESV.

2 Andrew Murray’s Like Christ (1901) is public domain and free online at a number of sites, includinghttp://www.forgottenword.org/commentaries/murray_like_christ.pdf andhttp://www.swartzentrover.com/cotor/e-books/christ/Murray/LikeChrist/Like%20Christ.pdf.

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Stories from an occupation: the Israelis who broke silence

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/jun/08/israel-soldiers-speak-out-brutality-palestine-occupation
A group called Breaking the Silence has spent 10 years collecting accounts from Israeli soldiers who served in the Palestinian territories. To mark the milestone, 10 hours' worth of testimony was read to an audience in Tel Aviv. Here we print some extracts

Children of the occupation: growing up in Palestine




Peter Beaumont Tel Aviv

The Observer, Sunday 8 June 2014


Israeli soldiers arrest a Palestinian after clashes at a protest against a Jewish settlement in the West Bank near Ramallah, January 2014. Photograph: Mohamad Torokman/Reuters


The young soldier stopped to listen to the man reading on the stage in Tel Aviv's Habima Square, outside the tall façade of Charles Bronfman Auditorium. The reader was Yossi Sarid, a former education and environment minister. His text is the testimony of a soldier in the IsraelDefence Forces, one of 350 soldiers, politicians, journalists and activists who on Friday – the anniversary of Israel's occupation of Palestinian land in 1967 – recited first-hand soldiers' accounts for 10 hours straight in Habima Square, all of them collected by the Israeli NGO Breaking the Silence.

When one of the group's researchers approached the soldier, they chatted politely out of earshot and then phone numbers were exchanged. Perhaps in the future this young man will give his own account to join the 950 testimonies collected by Breaking the Silence since it was founded 10 years ago.

In that decade, Breaking the Silence has collected a formidable oral history of Israeli soldiers' highly critical assessments of the world of conflict and occupation. The stories may be specific to Israel and its occupation of the Palestinian territories but they have a wider meaning, providing an invaluable resource that describes not just the nature of Israel's occupation but of how occupying soldiers behave more generally. They describe how abuses come from boredom; from the orders of ambitious officers keen to advance in their careers; or from the institutional demands of occupation itself, which desensitises and dehumanises as it creates a distance from the "other".

In granular detail, the tens of thousands of words narrated on Friday told of the humdrum and the terrible: the humiliating treatment of Palestinians at checkpoints, shootings and random assaults. Over the years the Israeli military's response has been that these stories are the exceptions, not the rule, accounts of a few bad apples' actions.

"What we wanted to show by reading for 10 hours is that the things described in the testimonies we have collected are not exceptional, rather they are unexceptional," says Yehuda Shaul, one of the founders of the group and a former soldier himself.

Shaul breaks off to greet the European Union ambassador and a woman soldier who served in his own unit whom he has not seen for years. We talk about the solitary soldier in the square, now talking to the researcher. "We'll get in contact. See if he wants to talk. Perhaps meet for coffee. Then, when we interview people, we ask them to recommend us to their friends. We might get 10 phone numbers, of whom three will talk to us."

It is not only word of mouth that produces Breaking the Silence's interviews. At the annual conferences that soldiers leaving the army attend to prepare them for the return to civilian life, researchers will try to talk to soldiers outside. Shaul explains why he and his colleagues have dedicated themselves to this project, why he believes it is as necessary today as when he first spoke out a decade ago about his own experience as a soldier in Hebron. "In Israeli politics today the occupation is absent. It's not an issue for the public. It has become normal – not second nature; the occupation has become part of our nature. The object of events like today is for us to occupy the public space with the occupation."

His sentiments are reflected by the Israeli novelist and playwright AB Yehoshua, who gets on the stage to read a comment piece he had written the day before to mark the event. "The great danger to Israeli society," Yehoshua explains, "is the danger of weariness and repression. We no longer have the energy and patience to hear about another act of injustice."

A man appears holding a handwritten sign that condemns Breaking the Silence as "traitors". Some of those attending try to usher him away while others try to engage him in conversation. A journalist asks Shaul if the man is "pro-army". "I'm pro-army," Shaul answers immediately. "I'm not a pacifist, although some of our members have become pacifists. I'm not anti-army, I am anti-occupation."
ISRAELI SOLDIERS' OWN WORDSNadav Weiman. Photograph: Quique Kierszenbaum

SERGEANT NADAV WEIMAN
2005-08, Nachal Reconnaissance Unit, Jenin
We'd spread out above Jenin on "the stage", which is a tiny mountain top. That evening an arrest mission was in progress, there were riots inside the refugee camp, and we sat above and provided sniper coverfor the operation. Things got rolling and there were arrests, some rioting began in the city.

There was random peripheral fire so there were generally no people on rooftops. Some time in the middle of the night, we detected someone on a roof. We focused our sights on him, not knowing for sure whether or not he was a scout. But we targeted him and got an OK to fire because he was on a rooftop very close to one of our forces.

We were several snipers, and we took him down ... Later when we got back to Jalame, it started: "Was he armed or not?" But we'd got our OK from the battalion commander. He was also the one to come and speak with us when we got back to the base in Jalame. We were with the guys with whom we sat to debrief after the action, and it was wall-to-wall, "You don't realise how lucky you are to have actually fired in an operation. That hardly ever happens, you are so lucky."

And according to the way we implemented the rules of engagement, we declared him a target by documenting him. We thought the Palestinian had been speaking on the phone, he seemed to be raising his hand to his head, looking sideways, going back and forth, just like a person scouting and sending information back. You could see the angles of his body, his whole conduct facing the soldiers who were north of him, in the alley below, a few metres away.

SERGEANT, ANONYMOUS
Undisclosed Reservist unit, Gaza Strip 2009, Operation Cast Lead
The actual objective remained rather vague. We were told our objective was to fragment the Strip, in fact we were told that while we were there, not knowing how long, we would have to raze the area as much as possible. Razing is a euphemism for systematic destruction. Two reasons were given for house demolitions. One reason was operational. That's when a house is suspected to contain explosive, tunnels, when all kinds of wires are seen, or digging. Or we have intelligence information making it suspect. Or it's a source of fire, whether light arms or mortars, missiles, Grads [rockets], all that stuff. Those are houses we demolish.

Then we're told some will be destroyed for "the day after". The rationale is to leave a sterile area behind us and the best way to do that is by razing it. In practical terms, it means you take a house that's not suspect, its only transgression is that it stands on a hill in Gaza. I can even say that in a talk with my battalion commander, he mentioned this and said half smiling, half sad, that this is something to add to his list of war crimes. So he himself understood there was a problem.Tal Wasser. Photograph: Quique Kierszenbaum

SERGEANT TAL WASSER
2006-09, Oketz (canine special forces), Nablus
Standing at the roadblock for eight hours a day puts everyone under this endless pressure. Everyone's constantly yelling, constantly nervous, impatient … venting on the first Palestinian to cross your path. If a Palestinian annoys one of the soldiers, one of the things they'd do is throw him in the Jora, which is a small cell, like a clothing store dressing room. They close the metal door on him and that would be his punishment for annoying, for being bad.

Within all the pressure and the stress of the roadblock, the Palestinian would often be forgotten there. No one would remember that he put a Palestinian there, further emphasising the irrelevance and insignificance of the reason he was put there in the first place. Sometimes it was only after hours that they'd suddenly remember to let him out and continue the inspection at the roadblock.

SERGEANT, ANONYMOUS
Nablus Regional Brigade, Nablus, 2014
"Provocation and reaction" is the act of entering a village, making a lot of noise, waiting for the stones to be thrown at you and then you arrest them, saying: "There, they're throwing stones."

Lots of vehicles move inside the whole village, barriers. A barrier seems to be the army's legitimate means to stop terrorists. We're talking about Area B [under civilian Palestinian control and Israeli security control], but the army goes in there every day, practically, provoking stone throwings. Just as any Palestinian is suspect, this is the same idea. It could be a kid's first time ever throwing a stone, but as far as the army is concerned, we've caught the stone thrower.Avner Gvaryahu. Photograph: Quique Kierszenbaum

SERGEANT AVNER GVARYAHU
2004-07 Orev (special anti-tank unit), Nablus
It was when I was a sergeant, after we had finished training. 200 [the number of the commander] said to us unequivocally: "That's how you're ranked. With Xs. Every night I want you to be looking for 'contact' [an exchange of fire] and that's how you'll be ranked."

At some point I realised that someone who wants to succeed has to bring him dead people. There's no point in bringing him arrests. [The message was:] "Arrests are routine, the battalions are making arrests. You're the spearhead, the army has invested years in you, now I want you to bring me dead terrorists."

And that's what pushed us, I believe. What we'd do was go out night after night, drawing fire, go into alleys that we knew were dangerous. There were arrests, there were all kinds of arrests. But the high point of the night was drawing fire, creating a situation where they fired at us.

It's a situation, totally insane, you're in it, it's hard to explain. You're looking through the binoculars and searching for someone to kill. That's what you want to do. And you want to kill him. But do you want to kill him? But that's your job.

And you're still looking through the binoculars and you're starting to get confused. Do I want to? Don't I want to? Maybe I actually want them to miss.

SERGEANT, ANONYMOUS
Kfir Brigade, Tul Karem, 2008
There was one checkpoint that was divided into three lanes: there's a settlement, a checkpoint, and then Israeli territory. In the middle, there's a Palestinian village, so they just split the checkpoint into three lanes. Three lanes, and the brigade commander ordered that Jews should only wait at the checkpoint for 10 minutes. Because of that we had to have a special lane for them, and everyone else, the Palestinians and Israeli Arabs, had to wait in the other two lanes. I remember that settlers would come, go around the Arabs, and just did it naturally. I went over to a settler and said: "Why are you going around? There's a line here, sir." He said: "You really think I'm going to wait behind an Arab?" He began to raise his voice at me. "You're going to hear from your brigade commander."Gil Hillel. Photograph: Quique Kierszenbaum

GIL HILLEL
2001-03, Sachlav (military police), Hebron
On my first or second day in Hebron, my commanders asked me to go on a "doll", a foot patrol that we conduct in the casbah and Jewish settlement. I agreed, it seemed cool. It was my first time in the field, come on, let's do it. We went on patrol, into the casbah, and I think that was the first time I sensed the existential fear of living under constant threat.

We started the doll and I started feeling bad. The first time in the field is not simple. One of my commanders, the veteran among them, took an old Palestinian man, just took him aside to some alley and started beating him up. And I … it wasfine by all the others … I sort of looked at them and said: "What is he doing? Why is he doing that? What happened? Did he do anything? Is he a threat? A terrorist? Did we find something?" So they said: "No, it's OK." I then approached my commander, the [one] who trained me, and asked: "What are you doing?" He said: "Gil, stop it."

And that really scared me. I was scared of their reactions, of the situation we were in. I felt bad with what went on there, but I kept quiet. I mean, what can I do? My commander told me to shut up. We left there and went back to the company and I went to my commander and said: "What are you doing? Why did you do that?" So he said: "That's the way it is. It's either him or me and it's me and …"

They took him aside and just beat him up. They beat him up, they punched him. And slapped him, all for no reason. I mean, he just happened to walk by there, by mistake.

SERGEANT, ANONYMOUS
Nachal Brigade, 50th Battalion, Hebron, 2010
The Jewish settlers of Hebron constantly curse the Arabs. An Arab who passes by too closely gets cursed: "May you burn, die."

On Shuhada Street there's a very short section where Arabs may walk as well, which leads to Tel Rumeida neighbourhood. Once I was sent there and we found three Jewish kids hitting an old Arab woman. Another man from the Jewish settlement happened along and also joined them in yelling at the woman: "May you die!" When we got there they were mainly yelling, but there had clearly been blows dealt as well. I think they even threw stones at her.

I believe the [policeman] was called but ended up not doing anything. The general atmosphere was that there was no point in summoning the police – the policeman is a local settler from Kiryat Arba who comes to pray with the Hebron settlers at the Tomb of the Patriarchs on Fridays.Nadav Bigelman. Photograph: Quique Kierszenbaum

SERGEANT NADAV BIGELMAN
2007-10, Nachal Brigade, 50th Battalion, Hebron
During patrols inside the casbah we'd do many "mappings". Mappings mean going into a house we have no intelligence on. We go in to see what's inside, who lives there. We didn't search for weapons or things like that. The mappings were designed to make the Palestinians feel that we are there all the time.

We go in, walk around, look around. The commander takes a piece of paper and … makes a drawing of the house, what it looks like inside, and I had a camera. I was told to bring it. They said: "You take all the people, stand them against the wall and take their picture." Then [the pictures are] transferred to, I don't know, the General Security Service, the battalion or brigade intelligence unit, so they have information on what the people look like. What the residents look like. I'm a young soldier, I do as they say. I take their pictures, a horrible experience in itself, because taking people's pictures at 3am, I … it humiliated them, I just can't describe it.

And the interesting thing? I had the pictures for around a month. No one came to get them. No commander asked about them, no intelligence officer took them. I realised it was all for nothing. It was just to be there. It was like a game.

SERGEANT, ANONYMOUS
Paratrooper, 2002, Nablus
We took over a central house, set up positions, and one of the sharpshooters identified a man on a roof, two roofs away, I think he was between 50 and 70 metres away, not armed. I looked at the man through the night vision – he wasn't armed. It was two in the morning. A man without arms, walking on the roof, just walking around. We reported it to the company commander. The company commander said: "Take him down." [The sharpshooter] fired, took him down. The company commander basically ordered, decided via radio, the death sentence for that man. A man who wasn't armed.

I saw with my own eyes that the guy wasn't armed. The report also said: "A man without arms on the roof." The company commander declared him a lookout, meaning he understood that the guy was no threat to us, and he gave the order to kill him and we shot him. I myself didn't shoot, my friend shot and killed him. And basically you think, you see in the United States there's the death penalty, for every death sentence there are like a thousand appeals and convictions, and they take it very seriously, and there are judges and learned people, and there are protests and whatever. And here a 26-year-old guy, my company commander, sentenced an unarmed man to death.

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Life In A (Slightly) Communist State

By Wendy Justice, Live and Invest Overseas, July 12, 2014

We’ve been living in Vietnam for several years now. During that time, we have made many close Vietnamese friends and have learned more about the history and rich culture of these people than we ever imagined. We’ve also been around a lot of foreign tourists, who are generally amazed that a Westerner would choose to live in a communist country.

The truth is that for all practical purposes, living in Vietnam is like living in any country, communist or not. After spending about one minute in Hanoi, anybody can see that this city is first and foremost the epitome of capitalism on steroids. The majority of Vietnamese are self-employed entrepreneurs. They own and operate hotels and restaurants, they sell vegetables and fish at the markets, they fix motorbikes and appliances, they promote their tour companies, shine shoes, and create a never-ending assortment of soups and noodles and rice dishes to sell in their tiny shops or at their pop-up sidewalk restaurants.

Most Vietnamese work from dawn until late in the evening, often seven days a week. Many earn just enough to get by, though a growing percentage of people have enough disposable income to buy some extras and even luxuries. Throughout the years, we’ve watched as the locals have traded their bicycles for motorbikes and their motorbikes for cars. More people wear eyeglasses now, and more children and young adults are fitted with braces. People keep pets—something that was very unusual just a few years ago. When they take their vacations, they love to travel. Domestic tourism is a rapidly growing industry here.

The difficult days of rationing and shortages are over. Today’s Vietnamese shop in traditional markets and glitzy new malls. They take their children to parks, zoos, museums, beaches, giant waterparks, amusement parks, and the aquarium on their school breaks. They buy their own fashionable clothes, choose their own vocations, and love to gossip. In many respects, Vietnam is just like anywhere else. But there are differences, too…

Because it is a socialized country, some businesses are owned, or partly-owned, by the government. You’ll see many products that have the word “Vina” in the name: Vinacafe, Vinashipping, Vinatex, Vinataba… These are all enterprises that the government owns either in part or entirely.

Medical care is practiced almost entirely in public, government-run hospitals. As a foreigner, there are two choices: you can pay a steep price to go to one of the few private, English- or French-speaking hospitals or, if you have a Vietnamese interpreter, you can go with them to a government hospital and receive ridiculously inexpensive tests and treatments.

The doctors, at least in Hanoi, are skilled regardless of the hospital you attend—and the government hospitals have modern equipment and competent technicians. Whether you’re Vietnamese or a foreigner, medical care in government hospitals is inexpensive but not free. An X-ray costs about US$1.50, an ultrasound is less than US$5, and a consultation with a physician costs about US$4. The staff are all government employees—even the physicians earn meager government wages. The care at the public hospitals in Hanoi has improved to the point where most illnesses and injuries can be treated in the city.

We’re often asked what it’s like living in a police state. It’s a common misperception that a communist country is the same as a police state. Vietnam doesn’t have a totalitarian dictatorship, nor does it have a military government. It has a president and a cabinet with powers and problems that are similar to those of so-called democratic governments. There aren’t federal elections—the president is chosen by the Communist Party—but there are local elections.

What you don’t see in Vietnam are CCTV and red light cameras, signs everywhere announcing prohibitions and fines, or any overt police presence. You’ll see traffic police but rarely, if ever, see police on the beat or patrolling neighborhoods. They don’t even carry guns. The police presence isn’t just subdued. In many places, it’s practically nonexistent.

People will ask us if we feel as though we’re being watched by the government. The answer to that is a resounding “no.” We are monitored much less closely than we were in the United States. Here, if anything, we’re watched less than the locals…

Take driving a motorbike for instance. International drivers’ licenses are not recognized here. Few foreigners (or Vietnamese, for that matter) go to the trouble of trying to navigate the bureaucracy to get a Vietnamese license, and the police are well aware of it. But this rarely creates any problem, because the police don’t stop foreigners unless they can explain to them—in their language—why they’re being cited. Since few police speak English—and even fewer speak other languages—they simply turn the other way when they see a foreigner driving.

In all fairness, the Vietnamese police will stop Vietnamese. And Vietnamese citizens must adhere to certain laws and regulations that do not affect foreigners. If they want to move from their town or city to another part of the country, it involves a lot of red tape. And, of course, they can’t have more than two children. But as foreigners, these restrictions don’t affect us.

Vietnam falls short on political rights and civil liberties, but this doesn’t affect expats who wisely stay away from the local political scene. As foreigners living here, we have no problem accessing any news or social network website—though if this ever became an issue, we could always use a VPN. Censorship is minimal. There are churches and temples throughout the country and we are free to practice any religion we choose. Yes, there is corruption, but this isn’t something that’s exclusive to communism. And again, as foreigners, it doesn’t affect us. We don’t have to budget for bribes.

The Vietnam that existed in the 1960s and early 1970s only exists in memories. The country has moved on toward a much brighter future. According to the Global Peace Index, Vietnam is the 45th most peaceful country in the world (as a point of reference, the United States ranks in the 101st position). According to HSBC Holdings, Vietnam is among the most optimistic countries in the world in terms of business expectations.

What’s it like to live here as a foreigner? It feels extraordinarily free. The government sincerely wants Vietnam to attract more tourists, and it has taken measures to see that foreigners who come here want to return again and again. From our perspective, it’s an extremely foreigner-friendly country. It’s exciting to be here as we watch the country emerging from the grips of war and economic depression to join the global community. As foreigners living in Vietnam, we can say, in all honesty, that its “communist” status is a nonissue.

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