Members of the Christian Peacemaker Team protest the Israeli land confiscation policy.

and I was standing on a hilltop overlooking the beautiful Beqa'a Valley east of Hebron, in the southern West Bank, on the land of Abdel Jawad Jabber, a Palestinian farmer. The valley and hillside opposite were covered with vineyards and orchards-all except a new concrete bypass road cutting the valley down the middle. It had been built on land confiscated from Abdel Jawad without compensation and then fenced off, along with 150 meters on either side, after he watched his grapevines being uprooted by bulldozers.

We—members of the Christian Peacemaker Team (CPT) and I—were standing in the doorway of Abdel's son Atta's house. It was under a demolition order from the Israeli occupation for being built without a permit—which costs more than $1000 to apply for and is hardly ever granted. Atta and his wife Rodina invited us for maqlube, a delicious Arab chicken-and-rice dish. As we sat in a circle on the floor around the food, Atta raised his hands, cast his eyes upward, and said the traditional Muslim prayer before a meal: "In the name of Allah the most merciful, the most compassionate." In that moment I felt a deep human and spiritual bond with this Muslim family. The family members, who have suffered so much at the hands of the Israeli occupation, still express gratitude to God for the good things of life. They also offer hospitality and friendship to us Americans—knowing that the funds and backing for the Israeli settlement (Qiryat Arba), which is creeping across their valley, is coming from our government, paid for by our taxes.        Now, more than two years later, I am again standing in the same spot. Now, however, Atta's house, where we had the maqlube feast, has been demolished—not once but twice—and a Red Cross tent has been put up to shelter him, Rodina, and their three small children. As I look across the valley, I see, first, a big gas station built at the corner of the bypass road and, second, a new road leading up to the settlement. Both were built on land confiscated from Abdel Jawad since I was last here. And directly behind his house has been constructed a huge wall, 35 feet high and 75 yards long, ostensibly to "protect" the settlement above from the "terrorist" family below. Abdel's hillside orchard has been bulldozed to make room for the wall, so one wonders who the real terrorists might be.        We walk down the lane, cross the bypass road, and go down to the corner near the gas station. There, about 15 jeeps, 50 police and soldiers, and a dozen journalists are massed. We have informed the authorities, settlers, and media what we plan to do today, and they are waiting for us. We are carrying a banner proclaiming: "Land Confiscation Is Not Peace." In our group are 14 members of CPT, 25 Israeli peace activists (members of Rabbis for Human Rights and the Israeli Committee against House Demolitions), and 15 Palestinians (the Jabber extended family, neighboring farmers in the Beqa'a Valley, and representatives of the Palestinian Land Defense Committee).        We all have buckets of soil, some brought from as far away as Tel Aviv. We proceed up the hill toward the settlement, as far as the police and soldiers will let us go. Then, we each make a little speech, saying in a variety of ways: "You have taken this family's land; you seem to forever want more; so here—here is more land for you." Then we dump our buckets at their feet. This is a prophetic, symbolic action, similar to protests made by the Hebrew prophets. It is also in the spirit of Jesus' instructions to turn the other cheek, give your cloak as well as your coat, and go the second mile. (Matt. 5:38-41) A rabbi and several other Jews spoke against the injustice and about their respect for the Palestinian people.        When my turn came, I dumped my bucket and said: "The soil belongs to God and it is sacred. To tear it up with bulldozers is a sacrilege. To cultivate it to produce food and beauty is a godly act. This family is doing God's will here in this valley, and to take their land, destroy their crops, and keep them in fear is a crime against them and against God."

The farmer, Abdel Jawad, had brought a branch of one of his uprooted olive trees and stuck it in the heap of soil from our buckets, while making an impassioned speech about all the abuse that had been heaped on him and his family. At the end, he invited all those assembled to have a cup of tea at his home. We all went—Palestinian, Jew, and Christian—and 30 or 40 of us sat in his yard while his granddaughters served us tea.

Atta Jabber offers tea to Israeli soldiers, who refuse to accept it.

Soon an Israeli army jeep came up his driveway, the soldiers saying they were concerned about the safety of the Israelis present and demanding that they leave, because the head of Rabbis for Human Rights had actually received death threats from the settlers. Atta Jabber came out of his father's house with two cups of tea on a tray and offered them to the soldiers. This was an act of reconciliation by a Muslim who, whether or not he had ever heard the saying of Jesus, "Love your enemies," was certainly acting in that spirit. But the soldiers refused to accept it.        Our Israeli friends soon left, and we CPTers then said our goodbyes and made our way by taxi back to our apartment in Hebron. There, we sat down at the computer and sent out news releases, photos taken on our digital camera, and action alerts to media and our constituency all over the world. News stories about our action appeared that night on Palestinian TV and the next day in the Arabic newspapers in Jerusalem and the West Bank. Story and pictures were posted on our CPT website and E-mailed across the world. Our action alert called on people in the United States and Canada to send packets of soil to Israeli consulates and embassies and to leaders in the Israeli, US, and Canadian governments, urging an end to the confiscation of Palestinian land. (Under the Barak administration, more Palestinian land was confiscated than has been returned through the peace process.)        CPT is an initiative of Mennonite, Brethren, and Quaker churches that support violence-reduction teams around the world. The membership includes United Methodists and Roman Catholics as well. We have maintained a peacemaking presence in Hebron since 1995, at the invitation of the mayor. To Love the Lord and the Land        Tony Nasser was a student of mine at Bethlehem Bible College the semester I taught there as a volunteer. At 25, he was mature and devoted to his studies. He had a clear call to ministry and was working with youth at the Christmas Lutheran Church in Bethlehem.

Abdel Jawad amid his family's grapevines.

One day he took me to see his land—situated on a hilltop south of Bethlehem, with a spectacular view of a countryside rich in biblical history. It was surrounded by Israeli settlements—all encroaching on his ancestral land.        Tony's uncle had lived in a cave on this land, farming it for 50 years. He had remained a bachelor because, as Tony told me, he said if he got married, he would be tempted to love his wife more than the land. This spoke volumes about how much ancestral land can mean to Palestinian farmers.

Tony and his two brothers had put fences and locked gates around their land but never knew when they went out to work it whether these barriers would be knocked down and more land taken by the settlers. Tony had left his watchdog there, but it was stolen by the settlers, and we could hear it barking in the distance when he arrived—somehow aware that its master was nearby. He had left his horse there to graze, but it had been shot by the settlers. Helicopters patrolled overhead to make sure that Tony and his brothers did not complete the small barn they had started.        They have deeds for this land, both from the Ottoman Empire and the British Mandate. But when they took these documents to the Israeli court to prove ownership, they were told: "You have these papers all right, but we have papers from God!" This assertion was a reference to the Old Testament promise of the land to the Jews. It showed no regard for the rights of families who had bought the land, lived on it, and loved it for generations.        When I visited Bethlehem two years later, while doing violence-prevention work with Christian Peacemaker Teams in Hebron, I saw Tony again. He was engaged to Nisreen, another of my students, and they were soon to be married.        When Tony took me to his farm this time, he pointed across the valley to where the settlers had cut a road through his land, planted their crops in some of his fields, fenced off a section to keep him out, and erected temporary housing for new Israeli families. When his brother had protested the theft of his land, it was he—not the settlers—who was arrested by the Israeli police.        Such is the lot of Palestinians in the West Bank today. They have little hope that the Israeli government and courts will provide them justice. They have little hope that the so-called "peace process" will return their confiscated land, restore their demolished houses, give them free access to Jerusalem (which is their holy city, too), or allow millions of refugees the right of return to their ancestral homes.        Having seen the nonviolent intifada (uprising) of a decade ago produce nothing, many young Palestinians see no alternative but to resort to violence. But not Tony and Nisreen. Although their land and livelihood are threatened, the hope of these young adults lies not in material fortunes but in their relationship with Jesus Christ, their call to Christian service, and Christ's promise: "I am with you always, to the end of the age." (Matt. 28:20b) Dr. Douglas E. Wingeier is Emeritus Professor of Practical Theology at Garrett Evangelical Theological Seminary in Evanston, Illinois. Mochi-Tsuki: Bread of Life for the Japanese in San José Text and photographs copyright 2001 by New World Outlook: The Mission Magazine of The United Methodist Church. Used by Permission. Visit New World Outlook Online at http://gbgm-umc.org/nwo/. For reprint permission, contact New World Outlook by E-mail at nwo@gbgm-umc.org.