Perspectives and multiple narratives

I have plans to do a future post in which I explain how my history undergraduate degree prepared me for the work I'm doing this year (see parents everywhere, your child doesn't have to get a career that directly stems from their college major!), but until then I have to share with you a quote brought to my attention on a blog by Dr. John Fea, one of my former History Professors:

Historians are not the guardians of universal values, nor can they deliver "the verdict of history"; they must strive to understand each age in its own terms, to take on its own values and priorities, instead of imposing ours.  All the resources of scholarship and all the historian's powers of imagination must be harnessed to the task of bringing the past back to life--or resurrecting it....
--John Tosh, The Pursuit of History (New York: Longman, 2002), 7.

(See post here.)

It seems even more poignant to me now, as I sit at school, just following a lecture and discussion I led for the 11th grade on the topics on ELCA theology on Creation (care) and the relationship of Science and Christianity. As I've grown I've realized how our professors and teachers, and really anyone we encounter, can bring us a truth. Yet, that truth may not be the end-all-be-all perfect-explanation-of-life. I gave a lecture to these very bright eleventh graders (in their second language, and they still engaged in dialogue! Can I just say I love the 11th grade here?!) and I had a great time, but I definitely felt that I, while bringing another perspective to the table, was not being accepted as the "guardian of universal values"...and I was so proud! 

In a class during my sophomore year of college (it was probably, "Created and Called for Community") we talked about wisdom, and how the true mark of wisdom is surrendering your grip on the universal truth and considering that what another person is telling you may be correct. At the same time, though, that wisdom requires not just believing everything anyone else tells you. Wisdom is wrestling with the truth.

So, looking back at that first quote, I realize how much it applies to life for me here in the Middle East. You could replace "historian" with "missionary living in accompaniment". Regardless of where you are, as a missionary you do not "bring Jesus" (or, heaven forbid, "the right way to live") to anyone. God exists just fine without any of my help (and, in all honesty, despite it). However, what I have been able to do this year is consider another perspective on God, another way in which people experience the Divine.

Seriously, how great is that?!

Part of accompaniment that makes relationships so much work (both during this year, and my life back in the States) is that you have to wrestle with the truth. I can't assume unquestioningly that my community is correct about everything, but I also can't ignore what they have to say because I'm "right". (As an aside, because I know the "Truth" gets to be tricky when we talk about religion, I'm not talking about pluralism...I'm talking about humility in knowing that we don't know it all.)

This year I've been challenged to take life in the Middle East on its own terms. I can't come in with my American perspective, my paradigmatic lens, and judge my community based on my imposed values (this, of course, is not to say that there aren't values that are shared by my community here and my community back home). I can't lie and say that there aren't days when I wonder, "Why can't [x] be like it is in America?" but I quickly realize how silly I sound. It's ok for me to miss things back home, but I wouldn't want my community here in Palestine and Israel to change to be the same. They hold too many values, priorities, and truths from which we can and must learn.

[Shout out to Cait, I've used big T truth and CCC in one post. Messiah College Sophomore Year win.]

Happy Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day gets a pretty bad rap. At least, it seems so from the looks of my Facebook feed. I won't deny that I have at times been a Valentine's Day hater, but this year is different. Valentine's Day doesn't have to be about beating ourselves up over the one type of relationship we don't have at the moment (or, conversely, breathing a sigh of relief that we don't have that one type of relationship at this point in our lives). Rather, it can be about rejoicing in all the relationships we do have. Sure there are reasons to dislike Valentine's Day, perhaps the false images of what loving romantic relationships should entail, or a focus on commercialism (yes, I'll jump on that train)--but being "single" is not one of them. So why don't we take today as a reminder that we're super blessed- we have family, friends, and communities that lift us up.

Today I was thinking about how much work relationships are. I suppose there are some that come easy, perhaps with those friends that are soulmates- you can not see them for a few months and pick up right where you left off. They are almost effortless. But, by in large, most of our relationships take a good amount of effort- at least, they should. My work over here in Palestine and Israel is to build relationships, accompanying those around me through the good times and bad. It doesn't just happen- I have to work at it, push my boundaries, and sometimes make sacrifices.

So this Valentine's Day, let's not hate on people who are enjoying their romantic relationships. I don't care if Hallmark makes $27 billion in sales (I made that number up); let's be happy for our sisters and brothers who find themselves in romantic bliss this holiday. At the same time, let's not forget the wonderful, love and life-giving relationships we already have.

Let's not beat ourselves up because we don't have a +1.
Instead, let's give thanks for our +50.

Happy 25th Anniversary to two of my +50: Mom and Dad! You're an inspiration and I'm so grateful for all the experiences and life-lessons you've blessed me with (even the lessons about insurance ;) ).

Sharon and Keith on February 14, 1987. Look at those cute kids :)
...yes, I know. I look just like my parents.
Happy Silver Anniversary!

Sunday Musings: Thoughts from Church

I'm going to try to post every Sunday until July in hopes to jot down a few ideas, not enough for full posts, to let you all in on what I'm thinking each week. This first installment comes from the Scripture and hymns from the church service today at Christmas Lutheran in Bethlehem where I plan to now be a regular attendee (I've been church hopping to different Lutheran churches for the most part, but now I think I'm going to stay at the one in Bethlehem, down the street from Manger Square).

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I think it's interesting how certain passages in Scripture speak to us differently based on context. This can be seen in how different communities may find relevance in particular readings of the Bible, but I have also found it to be true in how I experience the Bible based on my own context, location, and life happenings. I was recently reading a book where the author pointed out that the amazingness of the Bible is not that it happened, but it still happens. The Spirit continues to breathe life into our world and our reading of Scripture and while the Bible comes from a historic, literary, and cultural context distinct from ours, God unites it all and continues to work through God's Word.

Today we read from Psalm 119: 81-96:

My soul has longed for your salvation; I have put my hope in your word.

My eyes have failed from watching for your promise, and I say, "When will you comfort me?"

I have become like a leather flask in the smoke, but I have not forgotten your statutes.

How much longer must I wait? When will you give judgment against those who persecute me?

The proud have dug pits for me; the do not keep your law.

All your commandments are true; help me, for they persecute me with lies.

They had almost made an end of me on earth, but I have not forsaken your commandments.

In your loving kindness, revive me, that I may keep the degrees of your mouth.

O Lord, your word is everlasting; it stands firm in the heavens.

Your faithfulness remains from one generation to another; you established the earth and it abides.

By your decree these continue to this day, for all things are your servants.

If my delight had not been in your law, I should have perished in my affliction.

I will never forget your commandments, because by them you give me life.

I am yours; oh, that you would save me! For I study your commandments.

If I had read this passage last year, perhaps I would have applied it to a particularly busy week, which there is no shame in doing. Maybe I would have sought God's comfort for a strain in a relationship, or asked God to be revived from the stress of classes and work. Yet, the pleading in this Psalm struck me as I realized my place among my Palestinian friends and coworkers at the church. Imagine reading this Psalm as a Palestinian, suffering all of the effects of the Occupation of the West Bank (or Gaza). There are many faithful God-lovers throughout Palestine who have put their hope in God. When, God, will there be comfort for the Palestinian situation under Occupation? When will hope be more tangible? "I am yours; oh, that you would save me!"

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At the end of the church service today we sang the hymn, "I'm But a Stranger Here" (that is hymn #238 in our Arabic book here, but I have no idea if it corresponds to the LBW back home. Can anyone find out what hymn this is or if it's any of our ELCA hymnals? Answer in the comments section, please!). I know there is much deeper meaning that can be taken from hymns but sometimes I take them at face value when I first sing them. The second verse of this hymn was not different...

"What though the tempest rage, Heaven is my home

Short is my pilgrimage, Heaven is my home

Time's cold and wild wintry blast soon shall be over past

I shall reach home at last, Heaven is my home."

As some of you know, it is SO COLD this time of year in Palestine and Israel! I have managed to figure out a schedule of when to put the space heaters on, and in what rooms so as to get it a little less cold in my apartment, but it is still a wee bit chilly. So, yes, the cold wintry blast soon shall be over! 

Also, "short is my pilgrimage". As this past week marked the halfway point for me, I have been keenly aware that one year is both a very long time, and really short. There are so many amazing things I've done and been able to participate in, but soon I will leave. I will return home to you all back in the States and be able to share my stories in person, but how will I do that? This is a question that has started to creep into my mind.

Ah, and then, "heaven is my home". That's kind of the point of the whole hymn. Yesterday I was able to Skype back home to the Seminary community and talk about YAGM for a few minutes. Before I went "on air" I caught up with my friend Julie, who now works for the Admission Office at LTSG, and we talked about hope and idealism. I have so much hope for this region and the relationships between Palestinians and Israelis and between Jews, Christians, and Muslims. Perhaps it is very idealistic to think that peace could come to this area in the next 50 years, but I can't give up that vision. Sure it's not easy, but if we think it's not possible, then what is the point? If we give up the work for peace because it doesn't look like it can ever happen, why do anything at all? Again today, I met some EAPPI (Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel) volunteers working in Bethlehem and we talked about this necessity for hope. Sometimes this is really challenging. The volunteer I talked with most mentioned that before church they had put some time in at the Bethlehem checkpoint and it didn't seem like they accomplished much...but they had helped a little boy get through to Israel for kidney dialysis. That's a pretty big deal, especially for that young child. But even the hope that brings can get get clouded by the daily struggles- the rest of the things that happened that worry, stress, sadden us.

The hymn today reminded me that there is hope, both for now and also for the future. At the beginning of my newsletter I have a quote from a the poem "Passover Remembered" by Alla Bozarth-Campbell: I am with you now and I am waiting for you. Heaven is my home, but heaven is also here, although seemingly hidden at times.

Posts by other J/WB YAGMs

If you're looking for some extra online reading material you may want to check out what a few of my fellow Jerusalem/West Bank YAGMs have to say about life and service over here.

Sara is the YAGM who is definitely my dancing soulmate. We will break out into dancing and singing at just about anything. We've even made up funny songs about getting lost in Belgium and failing at opening a bottle, to name a few. A while back, Sara wrote about the dance of resistance and resilience.

Sara also wrote about one of the blessings of hospitality that the YAGM group had back in November. We were the guests of a wonderful family who introduced us to what a Palestinian meal looks like.

Alma, who I work with at the Evangelical Lutheran School in Beit Sahour, wrote a bit about her experience with the model of accompaniment and the struggle that can be when one deals with not knowing the future and what "difference" this makes.


So there ya go...some "meantime" reading. Inshallah, ("hopefully", "God willing") I will have a post up shortly about my time in Jordan! Wait til you see those pictures!