From Instagram @aj_blackwell13:
Okay, here’s the big one y’all. I went back and forth on whether or not I should actually post this now, with everything happening in Gaza currently. All summer I’ve been thinking about how to talk about this trip briefly while allowing as much complexity as I can. I’m still not sure if this is the right choice, but I think it’s worthwhile, so please bear with me.
Back in May, I had the incredible opportunity to travel to the Holy Land, or Israel/Palestine, with Covenant Presbyterian Church from Charlotte, NC. It was the literal trip of a lifetime, and as much as I wish I could compress my experience into words, it is entirely impossible. If you let me, I can talk to you for hours about the BEST food (hummus, every meal) and how the Dead Sea left me feeling slimy. However, two things stood out to me from after my trip: the land and the people.
First - Everything in the Bible makes so much more sense when you see the landscape. The Sea of Galilee, the hills of Jerusalem, the expanse of the desert - each are powerful and awe-inspiring. As Naim said, it was like walking into the stories. Perhaps it’s my knowledge of the land’s history, it’s interreligious significance, or my own faith, but there is just something purely holy about that geography. (Though, I would also say the same of the Blue Ridge Mountains in NC.) What I still can’t wrap my head around is that the entire Holy Land - Israel and Palestine - is smaller than New Jersey. Four hours by car down the length, two or three across (not counting the border crossings and checkpoints that many Palestinians encounter daily, of course). Also, the Sea of Galilee, or Lake Tiberias, is smaller than the lake I grew up spending my summers at (Kerr Lake for reference).
Second - People are people, everywhere. If traveling to the Holy Land was *the* experience of a lifetime, then getting to meet five Palestinian Christians and explore Bethlehem with them was the second experience of a lifetime. To Issa, Mohammed, Angela, Miral, and RaMez - thank you very much for your hospitality, grace, and friendship. It was a delight to spend an evening with you. For anyone still reading this, it was perhaps the part of the trip I was most nervous and excited for. I don’t speak Arabic - how would we communicate? I am a white American with all the privileges that allows me - what similarities would we have? Well, as any 20-year old college students, we discussed majors and jobs, career goals and current struggles. Sometimes, we had to use Google Translate, and sometimes hand gestures were enough. Everyone was nervous; everyone was excited. Their energy and enthusiasm sparked as they showed us around their hometown, telling us the history of different buildings, the names of different churches. Their pride and love for their city, their people, was infectious. We stopped in a square before the Church of the Nativity, and Miral pointed out to me the poster of Shireen Abu Akleh - the Palestinian-American reporter who was killed in the West Bank just days before. She showed me news clips and videos of that day and of Shireen’s funeral - heartbroken and angry to have lost such a pillar of her community. I cannot imagine what such a loss would feel like, how hot that rage must burn, and how alone that can seem.
But that was not the end of our night, we walked on to find a kebab shop and sat down to dinner. Upon discovering that a couple of our new friends were singers, Katie, Lucca, Naim, and I asked them to sing for us - so waiting for our food, they jumped into various Arabic songs, switching from one to another to a third, clapping and laughing. People on the street stopped to watch and smiled at their energy, and then someone started Bad Romance by Lady Gaga, and we were all swept up into it. We waved Angela and Miral goodbye as their parents came and picked them up. Then Issa, Mohammed, and RaMez walked us back to our hotel. On the way, we chatted and teased and RaMez beat me in a race up a hill, and breathless, I was struck by the magic of the moment. I was in Bethlehem, in Palestine, laughing with amazing people I had just met. Yes, we came from different countries, lives, cultures, and experiences, but somehow, on the edge of difference and tragedy, we had found space for joy together. People are people. Everywhere. That is glorious.
Unfortunately, this story doesn’t end on a happy note. While our new friends are relatively safe from bombs in the West Bank, their people in Gaza are not. If you don’t know, the Israeli military is once again bombing buildings in Gaza and civilians are dying as a result. There are people under the bombs, and there are people behind them - terrified children on both ends. The situation in Israel/Palestine is extremely complex and to remove the humanity from either side would be to do it injustice. That being said, the power is vastly imbalanced between Palestinian civilians and the Israeli military. And our country’s financial support furthers that divide - just something to think about.
If you want to keep more up to date on what’s going on - @issanemer0 has been documenting and sharing videos from Gaza.
So is @eye.on.palestine on Instagram.
Israel/Palestine by Alan Dowty gives a good history of the area and situation. Our Harsh Logic by Breaking the Silence has stories from former Israeli soldiers. The Lemon Tree by Sandy Tolan is about an interreligious interaction and peace movement.
@baitulmaal_usa is an organization offering aid on the ground.
People are people, everywhere - we just have to choose to see them.