I sat on comments about this conflict for a while. I kept telling myself, “This is not my dog in this fight.” But then I thought about it and said, “it really is my dog in this fight.”
I am neither from Palestine nor from Israel, although I am an adopted Jew.
But I kept hearing this still, small voice repeating something I was taught from a young child in the church: to pray for peace in Jerusalem.
The Holy Land. The Land where, allegedly, Jesus was born and grew up.
The Land where my friends have traveled for spiritual retreats.
But me, in my Blackness, grew up and decided, “them folks don’t pray for me.” But it’s not about ‘the folks.’
It is about the Land they are bickering over. Something that has been going on for decades.
One of my many former students in Paris, France, who is learning Hebrew because she is returning to her homeland one of these days, was heavy on my mind, so I contacted her to check on her family in Israel.
She tells me her son is in the Israeli Army; he is in the north. And her sister is in a bomb shelter.
She appreciates me checking on her and her family. She says with broken English and heavy sorrow, “It’s difficult.”
Then, I spoke with a friend who teaches at the American School of Paris. She says she is amazed hearing her Israeli and Palestinian students talk about how their parents say, “The Israelis will kick butt.”
In contrast, the Palestinian students echo the same for their people.
I have concluded that I take no side of who is wrong or right. I know to take the side of those who stand for Jesus; that’s the side I am on!
The prayer leader brought this to my attention in a global prayer group; it made the most sense.
I am spiritual; I have to look at this in this manner.
If my momma were alive, she would tell me to shut my mouth [because] my opinion does not matter.
I can hear her sentiments loud and clear.
“These people have been warring with each other since before Jesus.
“Remember, they will still get better treatment than you because of systematic racism.
Just pray and let the Lord have his way.”
My momma was a brutally honest woman.
My momma was a brutally honest woman.
In war, there are always casualties. The innocent will suffer for the evilness of it.
When I was thinking too hard about this and the losses, I thought, ‘Who came to the aid of my ancestors as they were being intentionally abused, killed, raped, and tortured for 400 years?’ The answer I tell myself is, “No one.”
However, holding those thoughts in my heart will produce a hate I could not engulf.
This hate would eventually destroy me and cripple my progression to live free in my mind.
I will pray for the peace of Jerusalem as I have been taught. Praying is what I do!
Pray because Psalm 122:6 commands us to pray for the peace of Jerusalem.
I will not explain; I will allow you to search for it; for your understanding.
Praying is what I do
*Editorial note: Shugga Rosenbloom submitted pictures of former students for this posting. They include different ethnicities- Arabs, Jews and Christians, Muslims (from Isreal, Oalestine, and North Africa). !
