They have healed the brokenness of my people superficially,
Saying, "Peace, peace," but there is no peace.
Jeremiah 6:14
In a podcast recorded yesterday with a French journalist in Paris, Zoughbi first offered a lament of sorts for the silence (or inaction) of the global community in the face of genocide and apartheid. Only the global community has true power now, he said. Where is American leadership? Canada? The EU?
Then, he turned his attention to notions of peace, and peacemaking, and how often we in the West get these crucial things wrong.
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| In the Zoughbis' Home |
We don't finally "achieve" peace, then, but practice it (together)--as a foundational spiritual practice, collaborating with peoples of all kinds, developing energy and perseverance within the church (and society), leaning into Kingian and Gandhian nonviolence together. "Salaam" in the Palestinian context means well-being, both personal and (especially) communal. Again it's dynamic. It's a positive orientation of the heart, and a positive set of shared commitments--around Jesus' notion of agape ("Wi'am") and Gandhi's notion of satyagraha. There are inevitable failures (the gospel story), occasional victories, and always, always, always a spirit of sumud: binding brother to brother, sister to sister; finding comfort in suffering together; belonging to one another "in the image of God."There is no peace, then, without justice. "Salaam" does not, cannot accommodate violence and injustice; and, thanks to Jeremiah, we remember that "shalom" is exactly the same. Not the absence of conflict or tension; but the creative, empowering project of a "just peace." And this is what we seek in Christian community, then: a dynamic and always evolving "just peace." (And that's no Trumpian "deal," by the way, made over drinks in a penthouse or castle late at night.)
They have healed the brokenness of my people superficially,
Saying, "Peace, peace," but there is no peace.
Jeremiah 6:14
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| The Arrest of Mothers' Day 5: 2024 |
And this brings to mind my dear colleagues in the New Hampshire Coalition for a Just Peace in the Middle East--whose disciplined, collaborative, multi-dimensional witness has so inspired me over the past two heartbreaking years. That coalition coalesces around this very value, a vision of a "just peace" in Palestine and Israel, and beyond. Gathered from religious and secular circles, our shared commitment to dynamic peace-making, to persevering nonviolence moves me deeply. I know--within that Coalition--that noone believes that task will be "accomplished"; but I also know there is a strength among us that insists peace-making is possible, is our human calling. Not to achieve it, once and for all, but to live it, to embody it, to offer our lives and energies for it.
"Blessed are the Peacemakers"
Tarek tells this story:
Not long ago, a Palestinian teen arrived for a program at Wi'am, having been detained for several months by Israeli interrogators, abused by his captors physically and psychologically. Wi’am’s staff worked carefully with the boy, guided by skilled therapists and social workers, encouraging a long (and even unending) process of healing from unimaginable trauma.
One day, weeks later, an international delegation come to visit; and a well-meaning visitor asked a potent, but invasive question. “What would you do now to the soldiers who abused you so badly?” When Wi’am’s staff intervened and suggested the teen simply ignore the question, the boy insisted instead on answering.
“You have asked me the wrong question,” he said. “Instead you might ask me what I most want to be?” And after a pause, he continued: “I want to be an Arabic teacher—so that I might teach children among us to take pride in who they are and resist all efforts to demoralize us.” The visitor had been probing for something visceral, something inappropriately intimate. The teen, on the other hand, had learned to claim agency in his life, to see himself as a creative contributor to his people’s liberation. “I want to be a teacher.”
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| Wi'am: A circle of empowerment |
And this is the kind of transformation that seemingly happens at Wi’am every day, and the kind of programming and empowerment centered here. If there is a spirit of peace here, and there is, it's not static, calcified and proud. It's Christ-like, humble and ongoing. In this sacred space, hope is embodied in relationships, celebrations, classes and support groups. In this sacred space, a whole city sees beyond occupation and apartheid the possibility of a just peace. Through the eyes of a young man who has experienced the worst of the world, and now offers back his very best.
There's no doubt, really, that Jesus knew Jeremiah's poetry, and his life, inside and out. Ched Myers and Walter Brueggemann remind us of that, without hesitation and beyond urgently. To follow Jesus as disciples is not to "save" the world from conflict, and it's not to "fix" folks or nations either. That's just another cover for "colonial" thinking and religion.
To follow Jesus as disciples is to "empty" ourselves (and communities) of such pride and simple-mindedness and take up instead the cross of Jesus--who grieves for our suffering and violence, laments divisions among us, and reimagines a beloved community organized around equity and celebration, working across communities for a just peace. It's a costly kind of discipleship, to be sure, and invites in us all "costly solidarity" (per the Rev. Munther Isaac in Ramallah). But it is the way of resurrection. It is the Love that makes the sun to rise every morning, over every hillside and every prayer.Amen and Ashe.
Bethlehem
13 May 2025
