Breaking News

Where I find hope in the midst of pain and sorrow | Israeli-Palestinian conflict


This is the season of renewal.

One year ends. The second begins.

At the turn of the calendar, it’s common for columnists like me to make predictions about what may or may not happen or, alternatively, offer downhearted readers reasons for hope amid all the hurt and pain.

I have to admit that, as a writer, I have always hated doing any kind of work. The first seems to me a pointless endeavor since playing the prophet is a foolish act of hubris. The second is even more problematic, especially when the ever-elusive “silver lining” seems so elusive that it has faded into insignificance.

This year, like the last, will be remembered for having watched – bereaved and helpless – as the Palestinians continue to be victims of a genocide engineered by an apartheid regime consumed by an insatiable murderous lust and enabled by hypocrites who insist that they are staunch apostles of human rights and international law.

Day after horrible day the Palestinians suffer the cruel consequences of this miserable fraud. The number of dead and injured Palestinians defies belief. The manner of their death also defies belief.

Day after horrible day, Palestinians imprisoned in their own fragmented land face two fates: they will die a sudden and violent death – victims of Israeli drones, bombs and snipers. Or they will die a slow and painful death – victims of starvation, disease, cold and rain.

Hope, in this inhumane context, is a tricked-out fantasy. Or so I thought.

Then I came across the Christmas sermon delivered Palestinian Christian pastor and theologian, Reverend Munther Isaac, to his community in Bethlehem.

Reverend Isaac’s 20-minute address was at once a harsh accusation against the perpetrators of the genocide and an eloquent appeal not to lose hope – no matter how frayed it may be.

As I listened, my mind and heart oscillated between belief and disbelief.

I am not a man who prays, so I wanted to dismiss Reverend Izak’s pleas – despite their penetrating power and his obvious conviction – as unrealistic, bordering on fantasy.

I was skeptical.

When Reverend Isaac’s sermon reached its sanguine crescendo, I had an epiphany. If a grieving Palestinian can create a glimmer of light despite the prevailing darkness, so can I.

I think Reverend Isaac’s intention was to convince the rest of us – believers or not – that hope exists and persists; it cannot be extinguished by the bringers of death and destruction.

Resistance can take many forms. However, for resistance to succeed, it must be driven by the hope that a future without want and oppression is not only possible, but, as history confirms, inevitable.

So what did Reverend Isaac say that moved me from gloomy pessimist to cautious optimist?

He began with this poignant reminder. “Christ,” said Reverend Isaac, “is still in ruins.”

The pastor alluded to the manger he had erected in his church a year earlier with the newborn Christ wrapped in a keffiyeh and buried in the debris of Israel’s merciless genocide.

The symbolism is unmistakable. Christ and the Palestinians are one. They share the same circumstances and providence. Just as Christ suffered at the vengeful hands of the powerful who condemned him to death, so did the Palestinians.

“[Donald] Trump said that if the hostages were not released in January, there would be ‘hell to pay’. It’s already hell. What is he talking about?” Reverend Isaac said. “It’s really hard to believe that another Christmas has come and the genocide hasn’t stopped.”

Despite all the sadness, loss and hardship, the humanity of the Palestinians remained, Reverend Isaac said, unbroken.

“It was also 440 days of resilience and even beauty,” he said. “Yes. I mean all the heroes in Gaza. Doctors. Medics. Nurses. First responders. Volunteers. Those who sacrifice everything for their loved ones.”

Reverend Isaac also praised the teachers and musicians who teach and play music to “bring smiles” to traumatized Palestinian children in the devastated remains of Gaza.

“Yes, the loss is immense,” Reverend Isaac said. “But we have not lost our faith and our collective humanity. This is the beauty I’m talking about.”

Reverend Isaac asked each of us not to succumb to resignation, apathy or despair because “rigidity is a betrayal of humanity.”

Instead, he said, “We must not rest or grow weary. To do so is not only to abandon the people of Gaza, but to abandon one’s own humanity. This is why we must keep talking about Gaza… and the systematic oppression and killing until it stops.”

Complicit “war criminals” and their co-conspirators responsible for the horrors being perpetrated on Palestinians in Gaza and the occupied West Bank “must,” said Reverend Isaac, “be held accountable.”

“Instead of facing justice, they face them [applause] in the halls of Congress and defended by European parliaments,” he said. “And they still dare to lecture us on human rights and international law.”

Reverend Isaac is, of course, correct on both embarrassing points.

“Genocide will stop one day,” he added. “But history will remember where people stood. History will remember what they said. They can’t say they didn’t know.”

Once again, Reverend Isaac is right. We will remember.

In the meantime, Reverend Isaac is convinced that: “A plant of life will emerge from the ruins, promising a new dawn.” A guarantee of a harvest in which justice and restoration will flourish. And the vine will bear fruit that will feed future generations.”

It will take hard work and patience, but, I agree, the coming harvest will indeed blossom and the vine of “justice and restoration” will bear ripe and abundant fruit in due time.

“We have not and will not lose hope,” Reverend Isaac said. “Yes, it is 76 years of continuous Nakba, but it is also 76 years of Palestine sumud [steadfastness]sticking to our rights and the justice of our cause.”

Reverend Isaac ended his sermon with this admonition derived from the Holy Scriptures and confirmed, among other places, in South Africa, where another racist apartheid state was finally defeated.

“Every Herod will pass away, every Caesar will fade, because empires have an expiration date… and let’s remember that according to Jesus, the meek, not the mighty, inherit the earth.”

The views expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Al Jazeera.



Source link

Related Articles

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Back to top button