Reflections on Israel and Palestine
“Being an Oasis of Peace”
Rev. Megan Lloyd Joiner
Unitarian Society of New Haven
October 7, 2018
In the introduction to his book, Letters to my Palestinian Neighbor, Yossi Klein Halevi writes that
in his work as a Jewish person to understand the Palestinian perspective, he never “lost [his] love for the Jewish return home…which [he] cherish[es] as a story of persistence and courage and, above all, faith. But,” he writes, “he could no longer ignore [the] counter-story of invasion, occupation, and expulsion.” “Our two narratives,” he says, “now coexisted within me, opposing versions of the same story.”[i]
In 2016, at the Unitarian Universalist Association’s General Assembly, John Sarrouf of the Public Conversations Project, facilitated a conversation on a business resolution before the assembly calling for divestment from corporations that do business in the Palestinian territories. The resolution failed. But the great success of that General Assembly was the conversation held between Unitarian Universalists holding opposing views on the resolution. They told their stories and shared the context and experiences that led to their beliefs.
No one tried to convince each other to change their vote. The goal was for all to be heard and to understand each other’s positions.[ii]
In his opening remarks, John Sarrouf said, “behind every belief is a story. And behind every story is a person.
Can we, in our deliberations over the most important decisions,” he said, “hear each other’s stories? Can we see each other as people? And even across the great differences that divide us, can people stay in community
and continue the important work that they want to do together?”[iii]
This is the question.
This is the question of our life together.
Why are we talking about this today? Well, I’ll tell you. And I tell you this story, not to get a laugh, not to amuse you, but for you to hear me sincerely and know that I take this very seriously.
Back in April, I included in my meditation text a lament that a Palestinian journalist had been shot and killed in Gaza.[iv]
I was approached after the service by one of you who told me in the most open and sincere way that my words were hurtful because of the lack of balance inherent in mentioning only one side of the conflict. I took in the critique. And the next time violence erupted in the territories, shortly thereafter, I lifted it up again in the meditation. This time, I was uber-conscious of trying to hold both sides and lamented the pain experienced by both the Palestinians and the Israelis as their children are killing each other.
I was approached again after the service, by a different person, who told me in the most open and sincere
way that my words were hurtful because my approach was too balanced.
Now, I know that it is impossible to please all the people all of the time, and, still, I thought, “wow.”
I knew this was deep, and I knew it was risky to even mention it, to even touch it, but I didn’t quite expect the conflicting reactions I received here at USNH.
And then members of this community asked if we could do an entire service on the issue, and I thought: “wow, I’ll have to think about that.” And the more I thought about it, the more I thought, yes, we need to, because of that question: “even across the great differences that divide us, can people stay in community and continue the important work that we want to do together?”
Can we find ways to explore our differences, to hold conflicting beliefs, to hear each other’s stories,
to understand the stories behind the beliefs, and to make space for truth that is complex and painful?
Because these are the questions of our life together. These are the questions of our faith.
The truth is, I am sympathetic to both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I hear the pain that runs so deep on both sides. I see the killing on both sides. I feel the fear on both sides. I believe in the power and import of a Jewish homeland. And I believe in the sovereignty of the Palestinian people. I also believe that injustice met with injustice does not create justice, nor does it create peace.
Tomorrow is Columbus Day, renamed by the progressive movement as Indigenous Peoples’ Day. It is a day that has traditionally celebrated occupation and colonialization and conquest. And in the renaming, we turn this on its head and instead lift up the stories of indigenous peoples and the horrific realities of genocide.
I believe that in the Middle East conflict, we are talking about two indigenous people who claim the same homeland. And, right now, one of those peoples, the Israelis, have taken on the role of occupier.
And the other of those peoples, the Palestinians, at times, have fought back violently against the violence that has been perpetrated against them.
What is also true is that throughout the history of the world, the Jewish people who trace their roots back to the land of Israel, have had a different role, that of the conquered and subjugated and persecuted and oppressed. We must hold all of these truths to understand what is happening in Israel/Palestine.
And injustice met with injustice does not create justice. And I believe the occupation of Gaza and the West Bank is an injustice.
Violence, we know, begets violence, and oppression begets oppression.
And still there are some who break this cycle.
Bushra Awad and Robi Damelin are both mothers. One is Palestinian, one Israeli. Both lost their sons in the conflict. Bushra’s son Mahmud was killed by Israelis; Robi’s son David, by a Palestinian sniper.
Bushra recalls the first time they met: “I immediately turned to leave,” she writes. “I didn’t want to meet her or talk to her, but then the woman (Robi) got up and asked me to stay. She said she would like to hear the story of my son, Mahmoud. I sat down and began to tell her. When I showed her his photograph she burst out in tears.
She later told me her story and the story of her son, who was killed by a young Palestinian man in 2002.
After my meeting with Robi, I understood that our tears are the same tears. Our pain is the same pain.”[v]
Robi and Bushra are now both members of the Parents Circle – Family Forum, a group of bereaved Palestinian and Israeli families working for peace.[vi]
They understand the pain caused by war first hand and they have concluded that there is no justification for killing on either side. They have chosen reconciliation and partnership over revenge. They have chosen to hear each other’s stories, and to be together an oasis of peace.[vii]
I embarked upon planning today’s service thinking, naively, that we might conclude with a conclusion, a revelation, a solution.
I have nothing like that for you today.
I have only what we can offer.
We offer you Shelley [Altman]’s stories as a Jewish person on a quest to understand the Palestinian experience.
We offer you the work of people around the world, Israeli and Palestinian, Arab and Muslim and Jew, working for peace.
We offer you the wisdom that behind every belief is a story and behind every story a person, knowing that each of you have your own beliefs and your own stories.
And we offer you the opportunity to reflect on what it means to live together in this diverse community, to be, together, an oasis of peace, wondering together what it means to stay in it, to continue together the important work that is before us.
For today, may that be enough.
May it be enough.
[i] Yossi Klein Halevi. Letters to My Palestinian Neighbor. Harper, 2018.
[ii] https://www.uuworld.org/articles/uuaga16panelbusinessresolution
[iii] Ibid.
[iv] https://www.reuters.com/article/us-israel-palestinians-protests/palestinian-journalist-killed-in-israel-gaza-protests-idUSKBN1HE0A2
[v] http://theparentscircle.org/en/stories/bushra-awad_eng/
[vi] http://theparentscircle.org/en/about_eng/