No, that’s not a typo. It really is Christmas today in Bethlehem for the Armenian Christians. And a few days ago, it was New Year’s here, and in the U.S. it was Martin Luther King day, so that makes holidays galore.
Bethlehem loves Christmas so much that they celebrate it three times—the first time on the 25th of December for Catholics, the second for Orthodox, and the third is today for Armenians. I hope this means that tomorrow, they won’t begin taking down all of the Christmas lights and trees, now that Christmas is officially over. It has made being in Bethlehem very special, seeing it all done up in its holiday splendor. Far from being a “little town”, Bethlehem is a bustling city, one of the largest in the Palestinian Territories. The municipality does not allow any buildings to be built over six stories, however, in an attempt to preserve the old-time feeling. Most interesting of all about the difference between our Christmas stories and the reality is that Jesus was born in a cave, rather than the barn that we usually see depicted in nativity scenes. Caves were the traditional dwelling-places in that era, and shepherds would keep their flocks in them as well.
I’ve visited regularly and even lived in the Holy Land, but this trip has such a different feeling, since it’s my first experience sharing this place with others. Euphrates partnered with the Center for Ecological Living and Learning to offer a study abroad for college and graduate students to Israel, Palestinian Territories, and Jordan, and we ended up with a fabulous group of eleven students from all over the U.S. Along with my husband, his brother, a professional photographer, and a recent graduate who worked for Seeds of Peace, we are quite a troupe! Seeing the Holy Land through their eyes—with all of its beauty and hospitality, and all of its sadness and oppression, has magnified the experience for me several times over. The students, while staying in the Palestinian areas this month and working in small Palestinian villages, are finding a passion ignited for justice, non-violence, and sustainability, all the while they are keeping in mind that there are many sides to every story, and are eagerly awaiting squaring what they are learning with the Israeli perspective.
By far the most powerful part of our experience so far, (we are only a week in out of eleven!) has been a deep discussion with Sami Awad, the Founder and Director of Holy Land Trust. Sami is a Palestinian (and technically an American as well, having been born in the U.S. but moved back to Bethlehem at 3 months old.) The man breathes, lives, speaks, and tirelessly works for peace. I had been in awe of him even before meeting him, just from learning about his work, and watching videos of him, so much so that for the past year, I’ve ended every talk I’ve given with a clip of him. His comments always stir people to their depths.
In our discussion, he recounted his history and that of his family, of the peaceful relations that existed between Jews and Arabs in Jerusalem in the period before 1948, (as an example that they have not “always been fighting”, about his upbringing as the son of a refugee, the killing of his grandfather by a Jewish sniper as the former held up a white flag, and about his entire family’s relentless stance on non-violence. His grandmother always told them that “We must never retaliate, not even against the person who pulled the trigger.”
From a young age, Sami was immersed in the ideas of nonviolence, and looked up to his uncle, Mubarak Awad, who was a leader of nonviolence in the Palestinian community, later exiled by the Israelis as a threat to security.
Sami founded Holy Land Trustin 1998 to strengthen Palestinian communities through non-violence. They deliver a whole host of programs, including training on non-violence, work with schools, communities, interfaith groups, and encounters with the “Other”.
Most incredibly, Sami shared this statement, of which I am still in awe, and still trying to grasp the potential impact of such an idea.
“It is up to the Palestinians to do what the international community has failed to do for the Jewish people: to heal the trauma they have experienced.”
Can you imagine the power of this idea, and the humility and wisdom that it requires of someone, especially a Palestinian, to utter such a thing? And yet, it’s so on target, so precisely the action that justice and unconditional love would require. Someone is needed to stop the cycle of violence, to heal the wounds instead of deepen them, and to practice what all of our religions preach—true forgiveness, and doing unto others as we would have them do unto us.
It’s not often that you meet someone who actually lives this, who commits his life to this, and emanates a peace that demonstrates it, in the face of what must be often ridicule, misunderstanding, and resistance from all sides. I suppose I sound a bit awestruck, but I just want to jump for joy that there are people like Sami Awad out there. He inspires me to work harder, to be better, to love more, and to share his work and wisdom with as many as I can. Here’s a good place to start—prepare to be inspired! Video interviews
A very Merry Christmas to you all from Bethlehem!
- COMMENTS:
- 2
January 19, 2011 at 11:51 am, Cameron said:
Awesome, Janessa! This is such an amazing trip. I’m so excited to follow along as you go and to see what wonderful progress comes of it all. Merry Christmas!
January 20, 2011 at 5:13 pm, Byron DeLear said:
Janessa and EI,
Great update. And what a profound concept from Sami Awad, “It is up to the Palestinians to do what the international community has failed to do for the Jewish people: to heal the trauma they have experienced.”
This is a true universal expression of peacemaking, seeing the pain within the Israeli community at large and seeking to ameliorate it; helping both Israeli and Palestinian alike.
A book by Avraham Burg, “The Holocaust Is Over, We Must Rise From Its Ashes”, illumes on this topic of trauma and healing for the Israeli community and Jewish Diaspora. Avraham Burg is a former Israeli Knesset member, Chairman of both the Jewish Agency, and the World Zionist Organization.
The following is an excerpt from Burg’s book:
Herman (Judith Herman’s “Trauma and Recovery”) attempted to understand the depth of the traumatic experience and to find in it the key for a spiritual recovery. She interviewed victims of post-traumatic stress disorder from battlefield and concentration camps and also victims of crimes, vulnerable family members (especially women and children), former hostages, prisoners of wars and rape victims. Her documentation is stunning and horrifying, but not without hope. The healing process that she proposes is long, slow, and requires patience, but it offers the hope of a future that is at least as good as the pre-traumatic past. I would like to borrow some of her insights in order to understand the Israeli paradox that pairs power with weakness, nuclear weapons with paranoia, solid international status with the world-is-against-us mentality…
…In time, Israel became a multi-traumatic society, a coalition of all its victims that harnesses its worst experiences and turned them into its central existential experience…The result is a national doctrine, aptly described in Yiddish by the late Prime Minister Levi Eshkol as Shimshon hagibor der nebechkicker, literally, “mighty Samson the weakling.”
This national condition includes two contradictory elements that are derived from our history: excessive power and desperate weakness. It makes sense to Israelis, but not to others, who may interpret it as something between hypocrisy and madness. The wisdom is self-evident in the nonscientific expression, “a battered boy will be a battering father.”
Both populations have their backs up against a wall, both figuratively and literally. For Sami Awad to take up the mantle of seeing beyond a partisan perspective shows the heart of a true peacemaker in action; healing with patience and understanding, squelching any fires of fear with a cool salve of love.
Thank you for the inspiration Janessa and EI crew!
In your service,
Byron DeLear