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.]

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.

******

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 :)