Matthew 11.2-11
“Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear and the poor have good news brought to them.” (Mt 11.4-5)
I wouldn’t be sitting here at the computer if I had not heard these very words from people I have met in Palestine and Israel. Each time I visit, I hear stories of how the occupation makes life very difficult for Palestinians. Workers wait two hours at the checkpoint in Bethlehem each morning on their way to work. Furniture, light fixtures and other supplies for building the new college in Bethlehem sit for days at the checkpoint awaiting Israeli approval. Fourteen-year-old Ibrahim is dragged from his home in the middle of the night, beaten by the soldiers in front of his family and hauled off to jail. Sousan must order merchandise for her dress shop in Beit Jala over the internet; she cannot see the quality of the clothing she orders because she cannot get a permit to attend the trade shows in Tel Aviv. Angie has been denied a permit to travel to Jerusalem to get a visa to come to graduate school in the U.S. George must be sure to fill the water tanks on top of his house when the water is flowing because it is shut off most of the time, even though the nearby Israeli settlement has plenty of water for its lush landscaping.
When I hear these stories I always ask people I meet what they need from me. Even though I hope for something simpler (like sending a check), the answer is always the same: “Tell our story. Go and tell what you have seen and heard.” It has become my mantra, my guiding principle—and I’m sure many people are tired of my stories.
But I cannot stop telling them because of the miracle of sight I have received as I have walked the dusty roads of the West Bank and the cobbled streets of Jerusalem’s Old City. I HAVE seen healing miracles. I have heard the miracle of God’s good news to these people in God’s own land.
And I have seen the miracle of deafness cured.
For most of my life, I have known that there were people in Palestine who were suffering. They were far away in a land I didn’t understand. I felt sorry for their plight, but I thought they probably brought many of their troubles on themselves—with their suicide bombers and their uncompromising demands for their land. I was deaf to their cries for help; I was deaf to their insistence that America had anything to do with their problems. America is too far away; what can we do? I thought eventually, when they choose wiser leaders, when all the details are worked out, there will be peace. I shut my ears.
When I went to the Holy Land for the first time in 2005, I was shocked. My ears (and my eyes) were opened and I could no longer be silent. It’s not that now I understand the situation, but I cannot stop reading and listening. I learn something new every day, because once my ears were opened, I could no longer shut out the cries for justice.
Photo is Sami Awad, a Palestinian Christian and Executive Director of the Holy Land Trust in Bethlehem, telling us about his reconciling work with Israelis.
A year ago in Advent, on December 15, 2009, our Palestinian sisters and brothers in faith issued a call to action to the world’s Christians. Kairos Palestine: A Moment of Truth, tells the world about the “Glory of the grace of God in this land and in the sufferings of its people.” They ask us to hear their cries and stand with them as they resist the injustice they are suffering. They ask us to work for a just peace. Read their call to us: http://www.kairospalestine.ps/
God of miracles, in Advent we prepare to celebrate the miracle of the birth of your son, who brought healing and sight to those who were blind. Cure our blindness with your healing touch. Open our ears to the cries of your people in troubled places all over the world…and at home. Make us your agents of healing and hope. Amen.
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