Promises

By the recommendation of a friend who has studied the region for quite some time, I just watched a documentary called Promises to prepare for the Churches for Middle East Peace conference. It follows several Israeli and Palestinian children between 1997 and 2000 and gets their opinions on the conflict, the "other" and the future. They are amazing kids with striking opinions, some of whom are deeply religious and some of whom are decidedly secular. Some moderate, some extreme. It also shows the realities of check points and the deep divisions between the various parts of the country.

One scene struck a particular chord with me. An Arab grandson is going through land deeds with his grandmother. Many of the deeds are very old, dating back to 1931, 1942. She then shows him the huge, iron key she said was to their house previously. She keeps it, I assumed, for the day when they can return to the land they feel is rightfully theirs. I find this interesting because when I visited Toldedo, Spain, our tour guide told of a Jewish family who was forced out of the country during the Inquisition in 1492. They too took the huge, iron key to their house with them in the hopes they might return. On the 500th anniversary of that event, 1992, they were invited back by the government of Spain. They brought their key, went to their home - which still had the original door, 500 years later - unlocked it and crossed the threshold, finally. I tell this story partly because I find it touching, but also as a sort of prayer that all parties may find such resolution to this incredibly challenging and deeply personal issue.

By the way, it turned out I was wrong about the reason the grandmother kept that key. Their house had long ago been blow up and their village destroyed. The land lies beyond a checkpoint through which they cannot pass. The key is now a symbol of what they lost and what they wish to rebuild.

Despite tragedies like the lost village, there was much hope in the film. I was thrilled when two of the featured Israeli children spent an afternoon visiting two of the featured Palestinian children in the refugee camp where they lived. They played soccer, taught each other songs, and ate a meal together. Most exciting to me was when they played a clapping game with which I myself was familiar. It was taught to me by two Palestinian Christian girls many years ago when they visited the summer camp I attended and later worked at. It was exciting to see that what we called the "tom tom tom" game was used to bridge cultural divides in Israel as well as Idaho.

What this narrative has shown me is that this is an incredibly emotional issue. From what little I saw, there are those who are blinded by passion and those who are paralyzed by apathy. As I continue my research before the conference and as I listen and pray on what I learn there, I will be interested to see if I continue to see those patterns. I look forward to learning about what it is like for those who are engaged in the process and what they think the future holds.