Pro Peace

The most difficult thing about having a blog is that every time I come to write something in it I discard the entry, or at best, I shelf it promising myself that I'll come back to it later. Since I regularly practice writing in a journal, something I didn't do a few years ago, I don't feel the need to type out all my thoughts to process them so much anymore. I find great solace in taking the pen to the paper, letting the words fall from my mind onto the page. Of course, in the process of journaling I don't hold myself to quite the standard that I would with electronic writing, where there are distinct paragraphs and spellcheck. With tangible pages the thoughts trickle like a steady stream, and sometimes, like this morning, gushing forth as my hand attempts to match the speed of my reeling mind. But in the past few weeks I've been even more intentional to spend time every morning with this writing routine. My journal can be (if in fact legible) full of spelling errors, swear words, and incongruent thoughts; that's allowed. 

A blog is a different animal; it's caged animal in a zoo, on display for the world to see. Each post representing a different experience making for a very eclectic hodgepodge of writings. As the zookeeper I feel some sort of obligation to keep the it alive, to make sure each of the attractions are exciting and worth viewing by the public. After coming home from Palestine and Israel I have thought immensely about how to describe my experience in a way that satisfies those who have paid the entry fee. Now, some who read this haven't paid with anything but their time, and while that's valuable I recognize there are those who were also financially invested as well as more who were in prayer for us while in the Middle East. So I feel somewhat pressured to fulfill the duty of zookeeper and make this entry a complete exhibit, however, I can't promise that will happen. It is a wild adventure which I don't think can be tamed by a few hundred words online. 

Just talking about the time in the Holy Land with people has been met with various responses. It was powerful and heartbreaking. We spent much of our time meeting with extremely influential people in the area. 

• A rabbi invited us to his home for a shabbat feast with his wife and a locally born university student. 
• A sheikh from the Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem met with us for tea sharing his views on Mohammed and Jesus Christ. 
• One of the leading television journalists in Palestine shared with us her story of motherhood, government red-tape, and divorce that only seems fitting for a feature film. 
• Renowned author and former Archbishop of the Melkite Catholic church asked us to be a friend of Israel and a friend of Palestine, because nobody needs more enemies.
• A professor at a Jewish university gave us his perspective on settling in the West Bank after his immigration from the USA. 
• Daniel Seidemann, an activist and top political expert in Jerusalem gave us an in-depth tour of his city.
• As an Arab Christian in Bethlehem a farmer grieved with us the hardship and persecution he faces from the Israeli government. 
• An Israeli immigrant from England who lives within sight of the Gaza Strip regularly drives there to assist disadvantaged Palestinians, who otherwise wouldn't have access to proper medical care, taking them to hospital up north in Tel Aviv.
• Another Arab Christian man told stories us of hope in which his NGO meets with Israelis and Palestinians (some of whom are the leaders of Hamas) to learn about and practice peacemaking together.
• An Israeli mother and a Palestinian father sat side-by-side as leaders of The Parents Circle for bereaved families they grieved the loss of life together.
• We explored the Diyar Consortium in Bethlehem, a center for creativity and wholeness for the citizens in Bethlehem. 

One might begin to get a glimpse of the vast complexities represented by these lives and understand why it is so difficult to simply present it as a single and complete thought. As I try to force it into a succinct story I'm finding it more and more unlikely. With time I hope to continue to expound on each of these people's experiences they shared with us. One thing that I brought home with me is the value of meeting face-to-face. It's quite easy to throw stones from one political ideology to the other without thinking twice. But when we sit next to somebody and remember the humanity of each person it's a lot more difficult to make them an other. As we begin to understand the stories that shape people, our perspective will change and hopefully become more balanced. We shared tea with Muslims, Christians, and Jews, all of whom call the same Holy Land their homeland, all of whom want to live in peace with their neighbors as their people did for centuries before them. 

"People say that I'm a dreamer because I believe peace is possible between us. But I say you're the dreamer if you think we can go on living like this. This conflict is only getting worse and worse. It's not going to be one or the other, we have to learn to live side-by-side. I do believe, no matter what everyone around me says, that peace is possible." -Roni Keidar