In May I ventured over to Gaza in Palestine. One particular day was a personal battle.
I am not Mother Theresa nor am I even close to being like my dear friends Jim and Becky Brown who endeavor to engage, embrace, and empower the poor. I am small town America and though not wealthy, I cannot remember wanting for anything. I have only recently connected with the poor and homeless via my friend, Bill Bowers (theoneanotherfoundation.org), in my hometown of Puyallup, Washington. Puyallup means “place of the friendly or generous people.” Puyallup and “homeless/poverty” never really registered. “Mayberry” or “Leave it to Beaver” seemed to be more like it. So what do Puyallup and Gaza have in common? Not much except that they do have “the poor.” Differing levels? Absolutely, but don’t use comparisons when talking to the poor or when speaking of the poor. Relativity means nothing to the poor and it is inappropriate and demeaning to make the comparisons.
So… I am terrible and miserable in this arena. I would rather be great, but I am not. It takes wisdom and insight and intuition that are “otherworld” kinds of wisdom and insight and intuition. It takes patience and it takes a really, really tough backbone that is counterbalanced by a tender heart. It takes an attitude that sees beyond the moment and sees a glimpse of eternity because those who venture into the world of the poor know the reality of the scriptures that say the poor will always be with us. What? No eradication of poverty? That’s what it says. Wow…
In Gaza poverty is the norm. This particular day was one of those days that I would rather forget, but I won’t. I think that when one is first exposed to situations of poverty it is more about exposing their own poverty… of the soul; our own insecurities and phobias and intolerances and prejudices. During our visit I went with my friends, John Angle and Shukri Ayad, to visit a former student from the Hope School in Bethlehem who is blind. Atraf is married and 45 years old with four children and some grandchildren. For the most part they live together in two rooms. We sat outside where the smell was a bit over the top from the goats and sheep penned up next to you. The flies were everywhere and it was dirty. I mean it was dirty in every square inch. And they were sweet people except that they thought we had come to rescue them from their poverty. Everything became about money. I was getting a bit annoyed and losing sight (rapidly) with just “being with them.” Then John asked Atraf what he remembered from 25 years ago from the school? Out of his mouth he began to sing songs of praise to Jesus and Christmas hymns. He wouldn’t stop. As a sweetness and calm came over him, it was a reminder to us that God left His mark indelibly imprinted deep in his heart. What was to be 15 minutes became 2 hours as they brought the food, two plates and a free for all. Two of us washed our hands. The neighbors came over to watch us eat and to point us out if we hadn’t eaten enough. Only later did we find out that they were told two weeks earlier that they were to be visited by people from “the West.” The “poor” were to invest all they had into us… Quite sobering. It took me the day to filter all of this and to realize no matter how many times I attempt to wash my hands in the presence of the poor, it will never eradicate my own poverty of the soul and that is why I am more desperate for Jesus. The fragrance of the Gospel is somehow always released in the presence of these precious ones.
My first day in Palestine we drove to the north central part of the West Bank. We stopped in Nablus which is Samaria and Jacob’s Well is there. This is where Jesus met with the woman at the well. It is becoming a stronghold for Hamas and the Christian community is desperately small. From there we traveled to a small village called Bet Emiren. It is a village of about 5,000 Muslims and two Christians. We have visited them before and for me it has been one of the most impactful parts of my journey to The Middle East. Though there is no institutional church, Yousef and Miriam are bright lights in their community. They live in abject poverty. Their lives are lived in a 10×10 foot room. They are both incapacitated. Yousef has been paralyzed for 35 years and is nearing the end of his life, while Miriam is unable to walk anymore having cared for her brother all these years. The Muslim children come by each day to check in on them and Yousef will speak to them about Jesus. When we visit we don’t stay long, but we sit with them and hold them and we rub Yousef’s head and kiss his face because it is the last place that he can feel. He loves it and they both feel loved and they feel valued and they are affirmed because as difficult as their lives may seem, their lives make a difference. Long after they “go home” the legacy of their lives well lived will be seen in the lives of these children who have heard the stories of Jesus and have seen His face through the faces of Miriam and Yousef.
When we visit we don’t stay long, but we sit with them and hold them and we rub Yousef’s head and kiss his face because it is the last place that he can feel.
As we walked away from their little room that day in Palestine my friend, John, knocked on the window and waved. Yousef looked up and the most beautiful smile came across his face. It was a lasting image of contented joy and it can spill into the lives of those all around when we choose to live above our circumstances.
One night in Gaza we went down to walk the harbor. I was drawn to a family (grandpa, grandma, mom & dad with two beautiful children) sitting on a blanket with the city as their backdrop. I asked if I could take their picture? They were overly excited. The iPhone was passed around after each photo. Smiles as big as a half moon graced their faces with pleasure. Just like that we made new friends. We found out that grandpa’s brother (now deceased) was the founder of Hamas. They invited us to their home for dinner. They wanted to give out of their poverty to show us that we had value to them. Emails exchanged. Grandpa jumped up (a bit slowly) and began to embrace us with their traditional exclamation mark, a kiss and not just one, but four. Over three means ‘you’re in! Deal closed. You’re a friend.’ The world is full of mistrust and fear, but those walls are vulnerable when love is applied. It’s not that hard. Trust me. Enemies can become friends and misunderstandings reconciled, but someone has to be first and someone has to take the risk and someone has to believe that ‘the greatest of these is love.’
