Two very intelligent and beautiful young Arab women stood before the Tantur sabbatical program participants. They were introduced to us by a Jewish woman who was their mentor. We were informed that they would be our tour guides as we viewed the Children’s Museum of the Holocaust in the Upper Galilee. “They would do what?”, I thought incredulously. “They are Arabs! They are going to be our guides for a tour of an exhibit on the Jewish Holocaust? How can this be?” My brain was pounding.

The day before, a group of us traveled to Ramallah, a city in the West Bank, and visited a Palestinian Refugee Camp. We saw, first hand, the on going Israeli injustice toward the Palestinians, which began in 1948 and continues to this day. We began to understand what motivates the present “Intifada”. It became understandable as to why the Palestinians are “fed up”, why they are taking on “Goliath”.

The previous day, with all of its conflicting emotions, was still very much “with me” as I sat before these two Arab women. I thought, “Okay, let’s see what this is all about.” The tour took its course and the women did well in their explanations.

My mind, though, was not on the exhibits; but rather, on the women. Calm on the outside, I was raging on the inside. Feelings from anger to pity were swirling within me. Words like “traitors”, “Arab tokens”, and “brainwashed women of good will” formed in my mind.

“Why were these Arab women doing what they were doing? They are supporting the Jewish pain, but aren’t they aware of the pain of their own people? Have they ever visited a Palestinian Refugee Camp? Do they know what the Israelis are doing to the Palestinians?” The silent questions in my head continued ceaselessly.

After the tour, we gathered for a debriefing. A Jew, maybe a rabbi, was squirming in his chair. He was very uncomfortable. His posture and demeanor spoke of his discomfort. Finally, he had the courage to speak his convictions. I was relieved that he spoke before I mustered the internal strength to voice my concerns.

“You are Arabs. What gives you the right to speak on behalf of Jewish pain? No one understands our pain but ourselves. Only a Jew can speak to the Holocaust!” His words were couched in anger and disbelief. There was a deafening silence in the room.

One of the women responded quickly and sincerely. “Pain is pain”, she said. His words and her response opened the moment for an honest exchange of thoughts and feelings among the people present. Though I did not like the man’s attitude, I had to admit that, internally, I was agreeing with him. And I didn’t like the conclusions to which I was arriving.

The young Arab woman continued her response, “My acknowledgement of the Holocaust and of Jewish pain is opening the door to a realization of the Arab pain caused by the Israelis. Hopefully, my acknowledgement of Jewish pain will help me to come into better contact with Arab pain and to help the Israelis realize what they are doing to my people.”

I was stunned. How profound this young woman was! She has chosen the better weapon. Instead of rocks, she is choosing knowledge, awareness, sensitivity and “human connection to the other” to bring about change. Then and there, I promised myself that I would pray for this woman in her youthful enthusiasm to continue the trek she had begun. She has a long, painful way to go. But, indeed, she has chosen the better lot.

The Jewish man was not satisfied, as I was, by her answer. He continued to badger her. Finally, among our group, a middle-aged Jewish woman arose and in quiet reverence spoke and admonished all of us, especially her fellow Jews.

“We, Jews,” she began, “think we have a corner on pain. We can become very egocentric about our suffering. We begin to think that only we have suffered and experienced pain. It is not a question of whose pain is greater. Rather, we are called to acknowledge each other’s pain whatever the source. When we can identify with that pain, relate to it and sympathize with it, we are on our way to new understandings about the human condition that, then, can bring us together and help us to live as one. Not only here in Israel and Palestine, but also all around the world.”

Her spoken words were soft and reverential. That day, God spoke in the voice of a Jewish woman and I gave thanks. Her words put everything in perspective for me. I was at peace, and, once again, realized that the God I seek is “The Beyond in our Midst”, beyond all the human categories that tend to divide. I once again realized that I yearn for the God who is found in the universalities of the human condition.

This daylong excursion and this powerful exchange of words were a reaffirmation of God’s light in the midst of the darkness of the present reality.

There are people, in Israel and, yes, in Palestine as well, who will not be satisfied until the other is completely destroyed. Their dream or vision of the future does not include two nations in which the Israeli and the Palestinian can live together in mutual harmony or, at least, side by side in mutual cooperation.

It is this hatred and this desire to destroy that does much to create fear in each other. This hatred creates walls that keep Israeli and Palestinian apart and, in turn, creates violence and conflict. When there is an agenda of total annihilation of the other, how can there be dialogue and mutual cooperation?

But there is also another agenda “out there”, the agenda of the Reign of God. The Reign of God to which I was exposed through the voice of that Jewish woman responding to Arab women talking about the Jewish Holocaust.

There are Jews, Christians, Muslims and, even, agnostics and atheists who are dedicating their lives and efforts in building justice and peace, creating a place in Israel/Palestine for everyone. In the midst of the present darkness, the light of their efforts pierces the night sky.

As part of our sabbatical program here at Tantur Ecumenical Institute, we have been introduced to the ICCI, The Interreligious Coordinating Council in Israel. In their guidebook for the year 2000 - 5760 - 1420, the Council lists no less than 68 organizations active in Israel/Palestine working for dialogue and mutual cooperation that will lead to justice and peace.

The people associated with these various organizations have moved beyond religious denominationalism and fundamentalism and have embraced a vision in which God is acting on behalf of all people, a vision in which God desires humankind to live as sisters and brothers, a vision in which the context of meaningful life is found in diversity and tolerance of differences.

Recently, on a full day’s excursion, the Tantur sabbatical participants dialogued with four of these organizations on their home turf. We traveled to Haifa to the Beit Hagefen Arab-Jewish Center, to the Center for Humanistic Education at the Ghetto Fighters’ House in Western Galilee, to Givat Haviva - Jewish-Arab Center for Peace near Nazareth and the Christian Community of Nes Ammim Village near Tel Aviv. It was on this daylong excursion that I had the opportunity to be a part of the exchange of words and ideas that I described above.

This daylong event proved to be, for me, a great sign of hope in the present landscape of conflict and violence. It reaffirmed for me that, indeed, there are people “on both sides” who have made the choice for justice and peace. This is often forgotten because it is the conflict and the violence that becomes the news. It is the voices of hatred and violence that float along the airwaves. The people whose voices and actions are directed to justice and peace quietly go about their mission day after day, oftentimes in total obscurity.

They are making a difference though and, ultimately, I believe, it will be these “quiet” groups plodding along on a daily basis, in season and out, who will bring justice and peace to this land.

When you pray for peace in the Middle East, I would ask you, firstly, to pray for justice. There can be no peace without justice. Peace is the fruit of justice.

Secondly, please don’t pray for peace in the abstract. When you pray, think about the many women and men who have made a conscious decision to alter the priorities in their lives so that they can dedicate their efforts to bringing Israel and Palestine together.

Please think about those two young Arab women. Think about that Jewish woman. Pray specifically for them. When you pray for peace, think about Palestinian men and women, Christians and Moslems; think about the Israeli people, ultra-orthodox, reformed and secular; think about the Christians, the Orthodox, the Catholic, the Anglican and the Protestants.

Put a face on this peace for which you pray!

E-mail Fr Mike at: michaelr@stmoside.org