Welcome to
the next installment in the miniseries where I answer your questions about life
in the Palestinian Territories, specifically West Bank. Unless I receive other
requests for topics, this will be the last post in the series. If you missed
the earlier posts on grocery shopping, Muslim/Christian relations,
treatment of women and children, and major differences betweenPalestine and the United States, you can find those by clicking on each
linked phrase.
Today’s
post is a bit more personal, as I’ll be answering the following question from a
reader:
Could
you please discuss how your Western upbringing, thoughts, and ideas regarding
Palestine and Palestinians differ now that you live there?
I’ve
touched on this a little bit in a previous series entitled, “How I Fell in Love with an Arab,” but I’ll go a bit more in depth here. I should note
before I begin that my thoughts regarding Palestinians have changed
significantly, and I’m almost ashamed to admit what they were in previous
seasons of my life. But I want to answer honestly, even if that means I have to
share some cringe-worthy perspectives I no longer hold. All that to say, please
don’t stop halfway through this one.
A number of
factors influenced my opinion of Palestinians in my younger years. There was,
of course, the backdrop of 9/11, which, while not directly tied to
Palestinians, did affect the impression I had of them as a subset of the Arab
world. September 11 was my introduction to Arabic, and when your first exposure
to a language as a young girl is hearing it used to celebrate an attack on your
homeland, it’s hard not to develop negative associations for that language and
those who speak it. I also held the idea that Arabs surely hated me as an
American.
In the
following years, as the media covered the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the
bleak and dusty images of desolate regions in the Middle East informed my
understanding of that region as a whole. I was under the impression that the
Middle East was a homogenous desert land with no greenery, little water, and
few comforts or modern conveniences.
But while
the media shaped my ideas of Palestine in a broad sense through selective
portrayals of the language and broader region, it was largely the Church that
most profoundly influenced my ideas of Palestinians. I grew up in a church
culture that saw no distinction between the modern state of Israel and the
biblical nation of Israelites, which was frequently referred to instead as “God’s
chosen people.” Verses from the Old
Testament, e.g., Genesis 12:3 (“I will bless those who bless you, and whoever
curses you I will curse;”), which was spoken to Abraham (then Abram) when God first
called him to journey to Canaan, were applied to the modern political state of
Israel. Such an application did much to instill fear. In no way must I be
against Israel, criticize them, or even think ill of them, or I would be in
danger of bringing a curse on myself. If I forsook “God’s chosen people,” I
would be forsaking God Himself. And who wants to be on God’s bad side?
So who were
the Palestinians in this narrative? They were the children of Ishmael, the
“bad, unchosen” son, the one who resented Isaac, the “good” son of promise.
(Cringing here, but I press on…) And what were they doing today? They were
persisting in their ancestor’s supposed animosity toward “God’s chosen people.”
Conveniently ignored were the passages that stated God’s promise to/regarding
Ishmael to bless him and make him a great nation, his participation in the
covenant of circumcision, the reality of God’s being with him, and the apparent
lack of ill-will between Ishmael and Isaac when they were grown (see Genesis
16:10, 17:20, 17:23, 21:13, 21:18, 21:20, and 25:9).
Instead, the only verse
regarding Ishmael that seemed to matter was Genesis 17:12, “He shall be a wild
donkey of a man, his hand against everyone and everyone’s hand against him, and
he shall dwell over against all his kinsmen” (ESV), or as the NIV translation says,
“he will live in hostility toward all his brothers.” This particular interpretation
of that one verse was applied not only to Ishmael but to Arabs generally and
Palestinians specifically and was held forth as the simple explanation for why
there was still (and always would be) conflict in the Holy Land and in the
Middle East at large. Why were Palestinians fighting Jews (not Israelis, mind
you, but Jews)? Because they were descendants of Ishmael and destined to rage
against God’s chosen people, plain and simple. (I wish I was kidding, but I’m
not.)
That was
the theological world I grew up in. Add to that the fact that the only
Palestinians I heard about were those on the news who were called “terrorists,”
and you can start to see how I had an entirely negative view of Palestinians. Keep
in mind that I had never personally met a single Palestinian (maybe not even a
single Arab) the entire first two decades of my life.
But as I’ve
written about in the “How I Fell in Love with an Arab” series, all that began
to change in college when God graciously began working on my heart and opening
my eyes to see Palestinians through His. The first Palestinian I ever saw/heard
from in person was a Christian man from Bethlehem. (See this post for
more about that.) The second was another Christian man—who would become my
husband. In some ways suddenly and in some ways slowly, through those two
encounters my ideas and feelings regarding Palestinians began to change.
I began to
learn Arabic before I moved, and the process of learning the language, as well
as the reality of being immersed in it after moving, took away my guttural fear
of hearing it spoken. Now I see and hear the intricate beauty of the language
(even as I still throw up my hands in frustration sometimes at how difficult it
can be for an English-speaking brain to learn).
The
incredibly welcoming and hospitable atmosphere in Palestine was not what I
expected. Even now, I have people from back home warn me about seeming “too
American” in fear for my safety, but I have never experienced any animosity
personally directed at me as a foreigner, especially an American one, and I
have not felt the ingrained hatred for Americans that I had assumed all Arabs
held. (On the contrary, I have experienced the affectionate qualities of Arab
culture, which you can read more about here.)
Upon my
first visit to Palestine, and even more-so after moving, I realized that the
dusty images on the news had very little in common with the rich beauty of the
topography, flora, and fauna of this region. (Although there is still way more
dust than I was used to!) I also started to internalize the geography of the
Middle East and realize just how distinct each country and its culture is from
the others. (In case you didn’t know, Iraq and Afghanistan are very far away
from us—and Afghanistan isn’t even an Arab country!) Far from the third-world
status I had envisioned, Palestine revealed itself to be full of modernity, and
I thought on my first visit that it even reminded me of Europe.
As I began
to meet Christian Palestinians, many of whom were exponentially more passionate
and outspoken about their faith than most American Christians I knew, I began
to realize just how much the American Church was missing by ignoring the lives
of these brothers and sisters and how much that must hurt God’s heart. On top
of that, it dawned on me that it seems unlikely that God would curse those who
are in Christ, so how did Palestinian Christians who spoke out against Israel
fit into the narrative of my upbringing? And why were they speaking against
Israel, anyway? Could it be that they (and by implication non-Christian
Palestinians) had reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with their
genetics?
Furthermore,
if “God’s chosen people” were oppressing God’s redeemed, Blood-bought people,
did I really think God wouldn’t care about that or would forsake His
Blood-bought children in favor of His chosen people, even if His chosen people
were forsaking Him by rejecting Christ? In other words, would He overlook the
suffering of those in Christ who were suffering at the hands of people who are
not in Christ?
Once I
moved to Palestine and began understanding and experiencing firsthand the real
reasons why Palestinians (of all religions) push back against Israel, God grew
in me a deeper compassion for them and continued to convict me that I should
care about injustice against any of His image-bearers, regardless of whether
they are my brothers and sisters in Christ or not. Do I agree with or condone
every action of every Palestinian? Goodness no. No more than I do for my own
country’s people. Suffering injustice does not give anyone the right to inflict
injustice on others. But now neither do I condone every action of every Israeli
under the impression that they are somehow specially favored and thus beyond
criticism. Again, suffering injustice does not give anyone the right to inflict
injustice on others.
So now, instead
of looking at Palestinians as a homogenous group of faceless, nameless people,
reduced to mindlessly living out one description of one of their ancestors, I
see neighbors; I see family; I see friends. Now I know actual people with
actual lives who commit actual acts of good or evil, who receive actual
treatment that is just or unjust. Now I have experienced the difficulties of
life in this ongoing conflict. Now I have family who have lived through decades
of unthinkable circumstances. Now I know the true stories of a whole other set
of image-bearers of God.
I recognize
it is only by the grace of God that I have come from where I was to where I am
now. His grace has pardoned my prejudice, instructed my ignorance, and forgiven
my faults. He has taken me from a place of blinded partiality to a place of
clear-eyed compassion, not only for all those who live in this land but also
for the many who remain in the mindset where I once was. I firmly believe that
God blesses us to be a blessing to others, and I pray that He uses the work He
has done in my own life to help others along the same journey of breaking down
the walls in their own hearts and minds and seeing the people of the Holy Land
as He does—with love.
To God
be the glory, great things he has done!
So
loved he the world that he gave us his Son,
who
yielded his life an atonement for sin,
and
opened the life-gate that all may go in.
Praise
the Lord! Praise the Lord,
Let the
earth hear his voice!
Praise
the Lord! Praise the Lord!
Let the
people rejoice!
O come
to the Father through Jesus the Son
and
give him the glory, great things he has done!
~Fanny
Crosby
PC: Mais Salfiti. Used with permission.
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