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.]

"Comfort, comfort my people"

This post was originally written on 11 December 2011. I wrote it immediately after my experience, and then I sat on it. I've now gone back to re-read the post and feel that it needs to be posted. It is slightly outdated (or so it seems in the fast-paced world we live in), but still, I feel, relevant. I'd enjoy hearing your responses either in the comment box or by email.

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Today I was able to worship at the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Beit Sahour, the church that sits on the campus of the school I volunteer with. Although most of the service is in Arabic, there were times when I was able to pick out words here and there; as usual, the pastor was helpful in translating certain parts (we do have a transliteration and translation of the liturgy as well) and in giving the readings. The guest preacher today, however, gave his sermon on a different text than those prescribed for today, and decided to speak on the New English Translation of the beginning of Isaiah 40 (v. 1-4) :

"Comfort, comfort my people,"

says your God.

"Speak kindly to Jerusalem, and tell her

that her time of warfare is over,

that her punishment is completed.

For the Lord has made her pay double for all her sins."

A voice cries out,

"In the wilderness clear a way for the Lord;

construct in the desert a road for our God.

Every valley must be elevated,

and every mountain and hill leveled.

The rough terrain will become a level plain,

the rugged landscape a wide valley."

Sitting in the pew, in a church of Palestinian friends who are more than hospitable, I was on the verge of tears. The first two verses hit me solidly in the heart, perhaps now more than ever because of some of the political talk I've been hearing from back in the States regarding the Palestinian people. From what I learned, the preacher spoke about the first line and who exactly "my people" are. When Isaiah 40 was written it was addressed to Jerusalem, a specific group, but today many of us would agree God commands ("Comfort", in the Hebrew, is in the imperative form, therefore a command) us to comfort all people, as we are all God's children (for reference, see the gospel of Jesus). We can read Isaiah 40 as a reminder that God wants us to comfort ALL PEOPLE.


Isaiah 40 also struck me at the lines that proclaim that Jerusalem's "time of warfare is over, that her punishment is completed." I haven't made much mention of it in prior posts, but living here is tough. No, I'm not scared for my safety; instead, it's tough because there is a division in the mentality of some here (and around the world) that says that there are some people who are "God's people" and some who are not. Right now, the time of warfare and punishment are not over, at least, you wouldn't think it was if you travelled through the West Bank/Palestine. There are military checkpoints not only between the West Bank and the State of Israel, but throughout the West Bank between towns and villages. [Edit 1/26/12: As of two weeks ago, my usual bus transport ceased making certain usual stops along its route because the buses are not allowed to pick up or drop off people in certain parts of the immediate Bethlehem area because they are different "Areas". Area A: Controlled and Administered by the Palestinian Authority. Area B: Controlled by the State of Israel, Administered by the PA. Area C: Controlled and Administered by the State of Israel.] This week Newt Gingrich claimed that Palestinians are terrorists. Have there been Palestinians who did acts of terrorism? Yes (as are there Americans, Israelis, Brits, Australians, Russians, Brazilians...every nationality). Should we ever stereotype one group based on the actions of a few? No. Yet, in media and in action, the punishment of all on the basis of the actions made by a few that are in no way connected to a majority of the whole, the punishment continues.

• It's difficult to think otherwise when women and men, young and old, from the West Bank, trying to seek medical care in East Jerusalem, are denied thoroughfare at a checkpoint. Essentially, denied their ability to either get healthier or lengthen their remaining days.
• It's difficult to think otherwise when you see young men and women holding high-powered weapons and making cars completely unload and get searched (or breeze right through) on the basis of ethnicity and visual religious affiliation.
• It's difficult when you hear of politicians back home using the situation over here for their political gain, not caring about the people behind their pandering. [Edit 1/26/12: It was the domino effect  as one after another of the politicians in the States tried to out-do the next in how much they disliked the Palestinians. How sad.] Ya haram. ("Oh, the shame.")

So then, how do we comfort people, God's command, in light of the fact that the punishment and warfare is not over? My computer defines "comfort" as being "a state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint", which may seem pretty radical if you apply it to the Palestinians (freedom from the constraint of prejudice, freedom from the literal constraints they face as being treated as second-class humans). There is a second definition, too: "consolation for grief or anxiety". We can take this as both providing care for after someone has been grieved, or as taking the steps and being proactive in preventing such grief and anxiety.


For me, this means speaking out. With stories, with experiences, with the images of real people. Quite often this is difficult for me; I don't like conflict and I don't like the fact that because I speak for the holding up of a section of God's children, the Palestinians, that there are some who may get angry. Now, please don't misunderstand me: being pro-Palestinian does not mean you are anti-Israeli. I consider myself both pro-Palestinian and pro-Israeli. I am pro-people loving. In my experience, the Palestinians are in need of more comforting at this time in order to get them to the same "state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint" that many Israelis already feel. (A Seminary professor once painted the picture of being a parent with two children; you love them equally. If one breaks their leg, you tend to that child more to help them be at the same level of well-being as the other child. You do not love one more than the other, but sometimes it means taking extra measures to care for one.)


So what does this comforting of the Palestinians look like? Well, many things involving the work for justice; for me, it means dealing with my fears of speaking out. For me, it means not only telling the stories and truths, but correcting the mistruths. In the Ten Commandments we hear that we should not bear false witness against anyone. Yet, in the interconnectedness of the Body of Christ, are we not also our sister and brother's keepers? If I allow someone to bear false witness without correcting it, am I not also to blame?

Over here, those of us who live, work, laugh, and cry with Palestinians have been extremely hurt by what has been said by public figures about the Palestinian people. Most recently, Newt Gingrich claimed that Palestinians are made up, terrorist, have a huge desire to destroy Israel, did not live here before Israel was established, and all belong to Hamas, and that "the burden to show a willingness to reach a peace accord with the Israelis lies squarely with the Palestinians". 

I can't, in one post, get into the complex history behind the people of this land, both Jewish, Christian, and Muslim, but you can rest assured that everything Newt Gingrich has had to say about Palestine is grossly misleading. These lies mislead some well-intentioned people but also create a mentality of fear and hatred, which stands as a wall infront of later efforts for the truth to be told.


So, in an effort to comfort God's people, let us try to fulfill the prophecy: "construct in the desert a road for our God. Every valley must be elevated, and every mountain and hill leveled. The rough terrain will become a level plain, the rugged landscape a wide valley." My hope is that together we can work for justice for all that turns the desert of conflict into a road that brings glory to God.

Blessings and Future Posts Promised

I've been pretty silent on here for the past few weeks but hopefully that will be changing. Life has been moving along here quite well; there have certainly been bumps in the road, but it's an exciting road that I'm blessed to be riding on.

I have a few blog posts all lined up, just about written but not yet published, and my hope is to have them up this week. If you have a few minutes during your busy pre-Christmas week and the following Twelve Days of Christmas, take some of them to sit down and read my posts. Until then, here's a short recap of what's been going on...

School has continued per usual, with the students getting extra busy as exams began last week. Thursday is our last day of school (since we have school Monday-Thursday and Saturday, and we will have Christmas Eve off) and that will begin a two week vacation for the students. I'm excited for all of them to be done with exams; they've worked hard and deserve the time off. Of course, I won't mind the breather, either!

The Christmas celebrations in the place where it all began have finally begun! I'll be posting about the Christmas Tree lighting in Manger Square and other events that have taken place.

I've seen and experienced a lot, even in a months time. The weekend after Thanksgiving, our Jerusalem/West Bank YAGM group travelled north to Nazareth and the Galilee. It was an absolutely AMAZING experience and I'm so glad I was able to go. Pictures to come shortly!

Not everything has been sunshine and rainbows (although there was one day when I saw a double rainbow outside my apartment after a particularly rainy hour). In the next few weeks I want to share with you an experience I had travelling with the Bethlehem Bible College Choir during one of their Christmas concerts. Most of the trip was ridiculously fun, but I also witnessed a heartbreaking moment of "just how it is" over here with regards to the Occupation. The strength of the Palestinian people constantly amazes and inspires me.


So get ready for a plethora of posts, pictures, and maybe even some videos. May the remaining days of Advent keep you in patient anticipation and awe at the Incarnation and God's love for us :)

Q&A Corner

Every issue of my bimonthly newsletter contains the "Q&A Corner," where I answer the questions you've asked. The following two questions appeared in the November Newsletter, and were submitted by two inquiring minds from the States (thank you!). Leave the questions you want to be answered in the comment section below or send me an email. As always, comments and reflections are always encouraged in the comments section of this post.

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Q: Is it making a difference?

A: I appreciate the open-endedness of this question and will answer it two ways. First, is it making a difference to those I am serving? I like to think so. At school I help out teachers with grading, tutor children in class, and do administrative work. Am I absolutely necessary for this work? Probably not; everyone at the school is far more qualified than I am. However, my helping out with little tasks frees teachers up to cover more material or spend more time working on other classroom activities. One day, after simply helping the First Grade English teacher check the student’s worksheets, I was thanked because, if I hadn’t looked at the student’s papers they would have only gotten through one worksheet, whereas we were able to get through two that day. Overtime, that adds up.

Is it making a difference to me? More than I can put into words. Along with the impact the daily life has had on me (there will be more on this in the next newsletter), I am overwhelmingly privileged to gain perspective on the reality in Palestine. Being able to put another piece into the narrative helps me understand the Truth of the situation over here and its vast complexity. It makes a huge difference because, when I return, I will be able to bring these stories and share them with everyone back home. It’s much more impactful to the stories of Palestinians direct from the source than conjecture simply based on what I see from the outside. I know that my future ministry will benefit greatly from my time spent among my gracious hosts.

Q: Is it "scary" to be where you are?

A: This is a question I have been asked a lot, both before I left for Palestine and now that I’m living here, but I love to answer it because the answer sheds light on the reality of Palestine! Back in the States most of what I heard on the news regarding Palestine was that of violence, something that frustrates me even more now when I try to tell people that I’m living an average life over here. Are there acts of violence? Of course, just like there are in the United States. Yet, I hear much less of murders and violent robberies than I do back home in rural NY and PA. There are certain areas I would not go to at night, or during particular political events; the same as there are areas of Albany or Harrisburg or D.C. I would not go to at night, or during particular political happenings. We hear “Gaza” and think that the situation is black and white. They are either all good or all bad. It’s not that simple. Yet, even when there is violence, one has to look at the whole picture: why was this person led to act in this way? How have we contributed to this despair? 

There is a certain element over here that does scare me, but it is not particular to Palestine or Israel, or even the Middle East. It is the global epidemic that has allowed us to go on not seeing the face of God in our brothers and sisters, the fear of those who seem different than us. The lack of unity and unrecognized humanity is truly frightening, because it is once we fail to see how we are all equal and deserving of peace and happiness that a more tangible “scariness” is birthed.

More Adventures with Food & Language (and an introduction to Eid al-Adha)

I'm starting to realize there is a trend between my language mishaps and food. Luckily this one has a happier ending than the egg episode (which ended up fine, albeit thirty eggs richer)...

Yesterday I woke up to the sound of a rapping on my front door. It was slightly early for my day off, but I thought it could be something important from either my host Grandparents or other YAGM friends. I opened the door to find someone with what appeared to be a screen laying down on the gate in front of my apartment (ok, so honestly, it looked like a silk screening screen, or, for my archaeology friends, a sifter). I was wholly confused. I started to speak in a mixture of Arabic and English to try and figure out what my visitor wanted. I assumed he was there to see my host family (especially since he had that screen). Between the two of us we spoke perfect Arabic and English...unfortunately, neither of us actually understood much the other said. But then, as luck would have it, we began to make sense to each other and he showed that the screen he had was not, in fact, a screen, but a box! A box of delicious sweet bread!!! I bought one and hoped that what I asked him in Arabic was to bring the bread by every Saturday. Unfortunately I was not sure that I had conveyed the verbs and nouns I wanted to and so there was a chance he would either come today, or... not at all.

You see, this week is also a holiday week for my Muslim friends and neighbors: Eid al-Adha, which means "Feast of Sacrifice". It's one of the two biggests feasts of the year (with the other being the Eid after Ramadan). It commemorates Abraham's obedience to God in almost sacrificing his son. During the next few days people will be out in their finest clothes (and from what I've heard, doing lots of shopping...today is like Black Friday in the States). Then families will gather and butcher their finest animal, dividing it into three. One third is kept for the family, another third is given to relatives, friends and neighbors, and the last third is given to those in need.

So, I was not sure if the sweet bread was just being brought around for Eid al-Adha, in which case, next Saturday would not be filled with more sweet bread. [I realize also that "sweet bread" is not very descriptive, aside from you knowing that it is both sweet and bread. I liken it to an Easter bread (also, so very vague), perhaps with a hint of anise, but in the shape of a cinnamon-less cinnamon roll. Or, if you are familiar with the baked goods at Starbucks (I'm giving away too many of my secrets!) it's very much like their sweet bread (Mallorca Sweet Bread) without the powdered sugar (Miriam, you know what I'm talking about!). Either way, it's delicious! Trust me!]

Yet this morning I heard someone calling out in the street that runs by my apartment and I knew that the sweet bread was back! Today I bought five (I'm thinking ahead, see!) and hopefully have ensured that the bread will be back often.

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I should also add that this episode feeds into the running joke that is more truth than actual joke: At times when I am very hungry (at breakfast or lunch) and need to buy groceries in order to really eat, there seems to always be someone who brings food to my door. It's an absolutely wonderful thing, the hospitality and generosity of people, especially my host family, to bring down an extra plate of something. Last week, my host family (who live in the levels above my apartment), after finishing harvesting their olives, had a traditional Palestinian dish of pasta and some type of bean, a generous portion of which they sent down my way. Again, this morning, I realized I would have to go get groceries before I could have my breakfast. Then, I hear the man selling sweet bread. Perfect timing :)

Link to November Newsletter in Google Docs

In case you haven't received a copy of my November YAGM Newsletter, I've included the link to a version uploaded to Google Docs. Granted, the graphics aren't as stellar...but what can we do, eh?

I hope you enjoy reading the newsletter as much as I enjoyed putting it together. Please send me any questions or comments, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Peace!

Courtney's November 2011 YAGM Newsletter from Jerusalem/West Bank