How do we reconcile the will of God with the evil and injustice in the world? With all that is wrong in this world, with all the wars and destruction, the hatred, the human rights violations, it can become incredibly disheartening to believe that God has a plan, and a good plan. A plan to help and not to harm (Jeremiah 3:8?). I think that’s one of the hardest things about visiting the Palestinian Territories – the difficulty in trying to maintain hope in the midst of all of this injustice. When a thirty foot wall topped with razor wire and an electric fence separates the Palestinian territories from Israel and there are checkpoints with armed guards where pedestrians file through metal gates reminiscent of cattle grates. I can’t help being reminded of my first trip to Auschwitz in 1993 and the despair that I felt. “Never again.” There are similarities here – the separation of people, the division, and what can only be described as the dehumanization of people. If we put aside the question of who has a right to this land, I still cannot think of anything that legitimizes this. The hardest thing for me in visiting here is that it is hard to imagine how one can maintain hope in such a climate, how one can persevere in nonviolence and peacemaking despite all this.
However, there are glimmers of hope. There are numerous individuals who I’ve had the opportunity to meet who are able to maintain hope for peace, even though there are children who have few options for a future. I can’t help but ask, “Are those glimmers enough?” Last night, Shane Claiborne quoted John of the Cross, “The cracks let the light come through.” It’s a quote I’ve been rolling around in my head since then. What do we do if we can’t see the cracks? Is it our job to create cracks? To chip away and allow glimmers, slivers of light to come through. There are few cracks in the wall that divides this land, but there are some. There are ways for people to illegally cross the wall and in a way,that gives me hope while simultaneously worrying me. If anyone is caught illegally scaling the wall, they can be shot on sight. There are people who work in nonviolent means for peace. Perhaps the amazing and inspiring art on the wall (some by the famous British artist, Banksy) represents another series of cracks in the wall. Beauty in the midst of this sterile, intimidating wall. Seeing all this begs the question – what is my (our) responsibility to injustice? What should be my response?
There are various responses to this. We are all called to different ministries – some are called to be prophets, others teachers, others martyrs, etc. This is a bit how I understand vocation – something personal. My spiritual director once told me that “vocation is what you do when you can’t do anything else.” Perhaps it’s an extreme statement, but it makes quite a bit of sense. However, such a statement doesn’t necessarily make it any easier to discern what one’s vocation is, especially for someone like me who has quite a few interests.
How does our vocation relate to the injustice that we witness? It should be obvious that none of us can do everything. We have limited time and resources and to attempt to stretch ourselves out over all the causes that speak to us might leave us with the ‘jack of all trades, master of none’ feeling. I’m not sure that’s the answer. I think each of us have causes that speak to us more than others, something that touches us personally, something that becomes part of our ministry, whether we are lay or ordained. And our individual response to this injustice is an opportunity for grace.
So what is that response? Perhaps the most common response that I have heard here in Palestine and which was echoed by Bishop Hayes of the United Methodist Church in Oklahoma today, “It is not enough to come and see, it’s also go and tell.” The two requests I have always gotten from people I’ve met here is ‘go out and tell our story’ and ‘pray for us’. Those are simple enough requests that any of us can fulfill. Witnessing injustice does not automatically require us to become an activist, to put ourselves in the way of bullets, to endanger ourselves and our security. Prayer and witness is sometimes enough.
Within those who witness injustice, there are certainly those who are called to action. Some of us are not content to sit idly by, to simply pray for peace. Last night’s talk by Shane Claiborne touched on this by connecting it to the miracle of loaves and fish. In the story, it is the disciples who notice that the people are hungry. They come to Jesus and say, “The people are hungry. Do something” And Jesus’ reply is roughly “Why don’t you do something?” and the disciples go out to find food and then it miraculously becomes enough to feed the entire crowd. But there is a sense of agency among the disciples. We can’t rely on God to do everything for us, to intervene and interfere in our lives. Sometimes we have to do something.
There’s a similar sentiment among the conference attendees here that Shane mentioned. Often after seeing the situation here, people turn to God and demand “God, do something!” Shane postulated that perhaps the response from God would be “I did. I made you.” This statement carries with it both responsibility and agency. I don’t think this means that everyone who witnesses injustice is required to respond with direct action and involvement, but I think that for some of us witnessing injustice leads us deep into the wilderness to discern what God is calling us to do. How are we supposed to respond to this? Are we called to share what we have seen, to bear witness to those in trouble? Are we called to be activists? Are we called to donate money and resources to worthy causes? I think the answer is ‘any of the above’. Only through prayer, stillness, and listening to God can we discern what our response should be. Through the cracks, we can see the light and perhaps our job is just to do whatever we can to amplify that light.
No comments:
Post a Comment