| — | Wi’am Conflict Resolution Center, Founder and Director Zhoughbi Zhoughbi |
This school is an outgrowth of the International Center of Bethlehem and the Evangelical Lutheran Church. I would love to teach there! …must learn Arabic first.
Visiting the Dheisheh refugee camp outside the city of Bethlehem re-shaped my understanding of injustice. Witnessing the struggles of the Palestinian people living under occupation, particularly those in squalid living conditions, I made prayers of silent confession of how I have knowingly or unknowingly, directly or indirectly, perpetuated injustice. After the state of Israel was created in 1948, hundreds of thousands Palestinians left their homes to become a people displaced, lost and distressed. The UNRWA created the Dheisheh camp for refugees from dozens of villages.
It did not take long for me to see parallels between their own experience and the plight of the Israelites. Of course, the analogy is incomplete, but both their stories are of oppression, sorrow, exodus, and exile. The occupation interrupts daily life, requiring spirits of endurance. Yet some resign to hopelessness, and some even to violence and resistance.
Will Someone speak to them, “I have observed the misery of my people… and I have come down to deliver them…” (Exodus 3:7, 8)? I imagine the people question purpose, meaning and God’s promises in their lives. Where is God? Perhaps some in the Christian community identify with the psalmists’ laments, such as “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so distant from me?” (Psalm 22). These are the overwhelming feelings that pervade the Palestinian communities.
We also saw young children in the Dheisheh refugee camp, playing as if it were just a regular day. Their smiling, quizzical faces gave me great hope, and I prayed for all forthcoming generations and their well being.
Photo by Braulio Torres
When we visited the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Jerusalem, we ended our visit with a walk through the children’s memorial. In the low-lighted hall of mirrors, guests could circle the construction while hearing the names of children killed in the Holocaust, read aloud in Hebrew and English. Just before entering the space, I asked our tour guide Iyad, a Palestinian Christian, for a Greek Orthodox prayer (his own faith tradition) so I could use it in our evening devotional. Misunderstanding my request, he gave me three prayer concerns, and the first and most important was peace for his children and all children – both the current and coming generations. After we walked through the memorial, I noticed tears in his eyes, yearning for peace and reconciliation.
The dove took two swoops, gliding down and up, down and up, in front of the Wailing Wall. Its feathers were as white as the tiny paper strips stuffed fervently into the cracks. This, yes, is yes to life and the promise of life. My thoughts travel down and up, down and up, moving from the stories of this place, my stories – stories without walls, with openness, buoyancy.
This is the same buoyancy, the weightless connection between the young Christian woman and the aged Muslim religious leader. With vigor and readiness, she exchanged his Arabic for English as he explained his Islamic faith and history, trusting this young woman to faithfully share an ancient story built on by years and years of prayer and practice. His old cheeks, sullen, eyes worn by wars, rumors of wars, walls covered in graffiti, looked on as her eyes danced. She shared his faith with us, holding, cherishing it like she held the swooping bird of peace in her hands for a few tender moments before it flew away again.
My thoughts return to the sunlit wall ahead of me, its blocks silently reading prayers for peace. The bird dives again, free. How many others saw this flight and long for the same unbounded movement? How can we honor difference, create space for movement, and welcome the stranger?
Photo by Eduardo Carillo
It was with ease and trust that the Christian woman and the Muslim mufti communicated. When I saw the bird’s flight at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem just days after this conversation, I reflected back on their conversation, knowing their presentation was done with the same energy, vitality and freedom. With praise and thanksgiving, I reflect on the immersion, remembering those two moments as encounters with the holy. Two streams of thought run from what I witnessed: God is unbound by space and time, and my heart yearns for the fruitfulness of interreligious and intercultural cooperation. Challenged in many ways, I departed Israel and Palestine transformed.
Happy New Year! A trip to Israel — what a way to begin a new decade! The Wesley Theological Seminary immersion group leaves tomorrow from Reagan National Airport in DC, and we fly to Toronto. From Toronto, we go directly to Tel Aviv, arriving at approximately 6pm, January 3rd (7 hours ahead of EST). Because I do not anticipate having regular internet access, I will be journaling with pen and paper. Upon my return, I will post my reflections. I can’t wait to share my stories and photos!
Jerri Bird, the founder of Partners for Peace, initiated the Jerusalem Women Speak tours in 1998. Jala Basil Andoni (61), a Palestinian Christian, and Ruth El-Raz (76), a resident of Jerusalem, shared their personal stories and perspectives on the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. Hosted by Partners for Peace and held at American University, the tour group intended to have an additional member-Muslim Palestinian originally from Gaza, Hekmat Besisso–Naji (40), who now resides in Ramallah. However, her visa had been denied, and she was not notified in time to join the other women. Discussing the physical divisions between Israelis and Palestinians, El-Raz lamented, “We feel as though there is a wall inside our hearts.” Ultimately, both women expressed hope about a political solution, a sense of reality about the everyday lives of inhabitants, urgency about the suffering and injustice, and pressure on the U.S. government to be involved.
With gratitude and excitement, I share the great news that I am about halfway completed with fundraising for the immersion! Thank you to all the very generous supporters.
“Yarabba Ssalami” (trad. Palestinian melody, arr. Gary Nelson, sung by Christus Chorus at Concordia University-St. Paul)
English translation: O, God of peace, send down your peace on our world. O, God of peace, fill our hearts with your peace.
