Thoughts On: Palestine, Part II

I smile a lot. I actually didn't know this about myself until about two years ago, when the girl at the drive-thru at Taco Bell looked at me, a little confused, and said "you're always smiling." What matters in this scenario is not that the girl at the Taco Bell drive-thru recognized my face, but that somehow it finally clicked for me: I smile more than most people. For my entire life I won awards for "Outstanding Smiler" and "Girl of Smiles," but I thought they had just run out of cool awards and that "Smiles-A-Lot" was the only thing left over. Don't worry - I get it now.

The thing about smiling a lot is that people generally think you're a great person. I can get away with a lot by smiling. But a few years ago I found myself face to face with God, and you know what doesn't blind him from sin? Smiling. I've slid by my entire life equating friendliness with godliness - but that doesn't cut it with God, and it doesn't cut it when you are staring evil straight in the face. 

I first noticed the feeling creeping in at the wall in Palestine. We stopped there on the first day, to see the blatant divide between Israel and the West Bank, or Israel and Palestine. It is horrific, to see the barriers that humans use to differentiate themselves from the "other." To be clear - Israel built the wall. We walked along a section where stories were posted - stories of Palestinian women and men whose lives had been altered by the wall. Some of them couldn't see family members anymore, some of them couldn't go to places they had always frequented. The wall pushes past the border that was agreed upon, so many Palestinians still have land and olive trees on the other side. We stood and we learned and I felt the weight of what humanity can do when we are angry and scared - and I identified with it. 

At first I felt weird identifying with this awful behavior. But then I read this blog, written by the director of Holy Land Trust - our partner on this trip - and breathed a sigh of relief. I'm not the only one who sees this ugly condition within my own soul. I see it in my lack of integrity, when I stretch the truth or allow people to see me as better than I am. I see it in the fear and rage still left over in my heart from old wounds. I feel it as I begin to judge an entire group of people for decisions that they've made, or when I dehumanize someone because I don't agree with them. I try not to let it show, or to ever say these things out loud, but they're there. The walls I've built to protect myself are also the walls that create "them" verses "me." They are the walls that incite hate. 

So as I begin to study this conflict in more depth, I want to remember the role that I play. Apparently, Ghandi never advised us to "be the change we wish to see in the world." What he did say was this: 

“We but mirror the world. All the tendencies present in the outer world are to be found in the world of our body. If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change.”

I can't do much. What I can do is trade in my phony good-girl status for true goodness. I can be honest. I can be humble. I can tear down the walls in my own heart so that I can more readily fight for the demolition of the walls in the world. I have been brought to my knees by the grace and forgiveness of Jesus Christ, but now it is time to extend grace and forgiveness to others. That is where I want to start; that is the attitude I will take with me into this season of growth and learning. I know I will often fail, and I know now that perfection is not within my reach - but I can, at the very least, begin the process.