
The first time I was taught that peacemaking is the primary work of Jesus-followers was from Elias Chacour, who came to my church in Cairo, Egypt. I was a young teen or pre-teen, and it was the first time I’d ever heard from someone who lived within a system of such bad blood, fraught history and sworn opposition, who decided to choose the third way. The way of Jesus. By then, I’d lived in the Middle East for years, and went to school with kids from many conflict regions. We’d all just been, well, kids. Played on the same teams and performed in the same plays. Our discussions in Social Studies had much more meaning and impact than they probably do Stateside, but while I supposed they led by example of what reconciliation can look like- just growing up together as human beings, I didn’t yet fully grasp what it meant to choose to coexist peacefully among enemies when you graduate into adulthood. When the historical and cultural expectations of allegiance bear down, and the child’s play is over. It was also the first time I’d ever heard a preacher dispute that God is fully on the side of Israel in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. That our role as Christians is to choose the third way. Thinking about it now, it was probably one of the first incidences where I realized that the God lives in the gray, not black and white like I’d been taught. (Another great example of the gray was when our Canadian pastor at our international church was asked by a Sudanese man with two wives, what they were supposed to do regarding marriage after their whole family accepted Christ,……I still don’t know what he said). Sadly, in the years since, when I think about the major social justice or faith conflicts, I struggle to think of ANY truly groundbreaking or meaningful displays of the pursuit of reconciliation between two warring opponents that I’ve witnessed in my personal life or the communities in which I’ve lived or worked. But boy do I see the conflicts.
Today, I find myself preoccupied by the fact that a church in a nearby town was allowing their kitchen to be used to serve a hot meal to the homeless. But they locked the bathroom. Because, they are afraid people might use the shower in the bathroom. Expletives. What else should a church building be used for, then to feed and cleanse the downtrodden? But, they might. Use. The Shower. God forbid.
What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus- so take your hygiene needs somewhere else!
Sigh. ( I’m crying inside but my Lexapro blocks my tear ducts.)
My main area of conflict affecting my day to day work, and my patients, is our community’s divisive response to the unhoused. And I can’t even count on the local church to open their doors without conditions. So, I guess to that end, my other primary teacher of reconciliation really is Jesus. I cannot reconcile how Jesus lived and taught, with the withholding of care to the needy, from within our church and non-church community. So, naturally, I really struggle to not see my fellow church people as enemies in this context. But, He is the ultimate reconciler, and has equipped a lot of really amazing folks with reconciling skills! And here I am, ready to learn from them.
3 comments
Kerry, I really appreciate your reflections on where you grew up and the lessons the ways that reconciliation was implicitly a part of your childhood. Perhaps surprisingly, that resonates with my experience attending a desegregated school in the Midwest. The question that stood out to me most from your post was: How do you “choose to coexist peacefully among enemies when you graduate into adulthood”? That question makes it all the more powerful to realize that you encountered Chacour when you were a young teen, right on the bridge between childhood and adulthood.
Kerry thanks for this post and for sharing about your experience with local churches. As a local pastor I found myself asking what would I do if you approached our church and asked for help? Also, I’m excited to get to know you and learn from your experiences growing up where you did. What a wealth of lived/embodied experiences where peacemaking was a part of your daily reality.
Kerry. Thank you for this. You’ve offered so much of yourself in this first post and I receive and hope to honor the gifts given. Fr. Chacour is also one of my heroes. His book (Blood Brothers) was the first of its kind that I had ever read. His story was one of the core contributors to my deepening conviction to take peacemaking and reconciliation seriously. I do wonder what we can learn from him as we grow painfully aware of the divides between sisters and brothers in our own context. How would he invite us to be both generous and honest in the direction of repair?