With the recent violence and escalation in the Middle East, my mind is on Israel. With every report of a rocket falling or a siren blaring, my heart skips a beat. It’s so close to home.
I spent last year studying at the Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies, while living in Jerusalem. I have close friends and family in Israel right now, and feel a deep sense of sadness and worry for what they are living through.
And my friends are not all Israeli.
While in Israel, I volunteered with organizations such as Rabbis for Human Rights and Encounter. These experiences led me to make meaningful connections with young Palestinians living in the West Bank and in East Jerusalem. I want to tell you about one of my friends. I want to share her story, because I believe that it’s important to make room for voices to be heard.
Haya and I met about six months ago, when I participated in an Encounter trip to the West Bank. She was speaking on a panel, and talked about the politics of being a young woman living in Hebron. We chatted for a while after the panel, a little about politics but mostly about college and Miley Cyrus. Haya is currently studying English literature at the University of Hebron.
I visited Haya a few times after we met. She showed me around Hebron, and her University. I met her friends and she took me to her favorite shops in town. When I heard news that the IDF was looking for the men that abducted and killed three young yeshiva students in and around Hebron, I reached out to her. I heard several reports of house demolitions, road blocks, curfews, and so on, but I wasn’t really certain what was happening on the ground.
She lives in a suburb of Hebron, so I didn’t really think anything would be bad in her immediate proximity. Her family is middle-class, and they are all peace activists. Her parents came to the same discussion I met Haya at, and stayed for dinner after. Her father, a small and joyful man, asked me if I had any Palestinian friends in Jerusalem. I told him no. Immediately, brimming with excitement, he responded, “Now you have one!”
So as this latest escalation of tensions began, I texted Haya: “Are you okay?”
All she responded, after moments of typing back was, “Not really.”
I pushed her: “What’s going on?”
“There are settlers and soldiers everywhere. They closed all the entrances and exits.” She was confined to her house. Then after moments of silence, she added, “It’s going to be a tough night.”
She continued to tell me about how the soldiers searched her neighbor’s house, that they were searching all the houses in the neighborhood, that hers was probably next. That she was afraid. Then the tear gas came and she described the smell to me, and how even though she was inside the smell was so strong. She said, “I hate it.”
I tried to imagine smelling tear gas in my own home. I cringed. I couldn’t really imagine it.
Haya and I are a similar age, have the same taste in music, watch the same TV shows, have friends in common. Yet we are worlds apart. I listened as she told me about the soldiers that would forcefully enter her house and ransack it. I tried to imagine what that would feel like. As we work towards a better future, one filled with peace and lovingkindness, we must reach out to those unknown to us and listen to their stories attentively. We must share our own in return. In the words of Henry David Thoreau, “Could a greater miracle take place than or us to look through each other’s eye for an instant?”
This notion is a Jewish one, too. Pirkei Avot 6:5 teaches us “Torah is acquired by means of 48 qualities [including] attentive listening, articulate speech, intuitive understanding…deliberation… asking and answering, listening, and contributing to the discussion.” As we continue to pray for the safety of friends and family in Israel, it’s important to remain open to hearing personal narratives. These stories are what help make the events “real,” and allow us to see the real life people impacted by conflict on a daily basis.
Let us listen to these narratives, value these friendships, and pray for peace for everyone. Everyone.
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We had another post for today, which we will share later, but in light of yesterday’s tragic shootings at two Jewish institutions in Kansas City, we offer only our prayers for the families impacted by this terrible act of violence. Places like the Jewish Community Center, open to all and committed to bettering our world, should be safe havens for everyone. An attack like this shakes us all to the core.
Particularly on the eve of Passover, we pray for freedom from violence and terror. We pray for safety, security, and over and over we will pray for shalom – at Passover, and always; in Overland Park, and everywhere.
As I mentioned in my last blog post, I grew up knowing very little about Judaism or Jewish culture. In an effort to become more familiar with the religion, partially because of interning at the ISJL, but mostly just out of genuine curiosity, I’ve been taking advantage of the educational literature on MyJewishLearning.
I began seeing unexpected parallels between Jewish texts and traditions and other religions I’ve studied, even Asian religions (around topics like reincarnation!). With all of this on my mind, when I was chatting with Rabbi Marshal Klaven last week, I mentioned that a major aspect of my education has been studying and understanding how Asian traditions, particularly Buddhism, have understood peace and been used in peace-building efforts.
He insightfully replied: “That’s interesting, because we all think we are talking about and working towards the same thing when we talk about peace, but maybe we’re not” – implying that different religions not only have different understandings of how peace might be achieved, but also may well have different definitions of what peace actually is, as well.
I had never thought of this before, but it makes sense. The teachings of Jesus advocate a more active role in nonviolence, whereas Siddhartha Gautama (The Shakyamuni, or Historical, Buddha) advocates detachment from suffering and withdrawal from the earthly world. Of course, different types Buddhism eventually developed concepts that called for more active involvement in the world, such as practicing loving-kindness. But still the roots of the way these two religious traditions understand peace are radically different—does this difference affect their understandings of peace?
Recently for a class I was asked to read an article by Allan Solomonow that discussed the Jewish perspective on peace. Solomonow explained that, from the Jewish perspective, peace cannot be separated from truth and justice—that to have one of the three you must have them all. In order to understand this more solid definition of these three rather vague terms is in order. In my mind justice has always been, I think probably subconsciously, equated with violent retribution. To me, justice has always meant equal suffering on two sides of a conflict, rather than equal healing. For example, growing up I always thought of justice as a murderer receiving the death penalty. The word still holds similar connotations to me. As a result I often think of peace, which I often equate with mercy, as the opposite of justice. However, Solomonow explains the Jewish (religious) perspective as one that rarely advocates the necessity of violence. If this is the case, then I require a different definition of justice to understand the Jewish perspective on peace.
I’d love to hear how from all of you on this topic and how you understand the concept of peace in Judaism. Let’s keep learning together!
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