THE WORLD IS CONNECTED
EL SALVADOR AND BEIT JALA
The day before I left we went to Sunday Mass in the
Catholic church in Beit Jala, on the grounds of the Latin
Patriachate’s seminary.
The Mass was very participative – with a choir, lay
readers, and altar boys and girls.
But as I looked at one of the altar boys I thought I was
back in El Salvador. The color of his skin, the shape of
the face of this young teenager reminded me of boys I had
seen in El Salvador.
But then I remembered. This boy doesn’t resemble
Salvadorans. It’s the other way around.
In the early 1900s Palestinians left and many went to
Latin America, largely to escape the efforts of the
Ottoman Empire to recruit them into the army.
A good number of these Palestinians settled in El
Salvador. In fact the candidates in the 2004 presidential
election were both descendants of Salvadorans! The first
night as I entered Bethlehem about 3:00 am I saw a sign
over a shop – the Saca brothers; a few days later I
saw a sign on the door of another store – Handal.
My heart has been touched by experiencing the struggles
and sufferings of so many people in El Salvador. So here
again, in Palestine, the poor have touched my heart
DINNER IN
THREE LANGUAGES
Three times Omar and I went to visit the family of a
student I know. The three daughters knew some English but
were reluctant to speak it; so Omar did a lot of
translating.
But I spoke directly with the grandmother – in
Spanish! Elen is in her later eighties, hard of hearing,
but full of spunk. She had been born in Chile and
returned to Palestine when she was still a child.
Elen and I in
Beit Jala
And so we conversed in Spanish – as other members
of the household spoke in Arabic. Occasionally Omar
translated something for me into English.
She was especially concerned that I wasn’t married.
She was also concerned about Omar’s father who lost
his wife four years ago. She was going to be our
matchmaker!
The volume was loud – not only when I tried to get
Elen to hear me, but almost all the time. The energy was
high, especially when the father, Elen’s son, was
present.
It was another case of being welcomed. Here again I
experienced the great hospitality of the Palestinian
people.
In Ramallah, we visited with a distant relative of
Omar’s. We talked about nonviolence. Two of the
sons and the father played the oud. We sat around the
kitchen table as the mother and the boys made pastries
stuffed with spinach and onion.
In Lydd, the Bedouins served us thick coffee laced with
cardamon.
In Taybeh Maria insisted we stay for lunch.
“I’ve already prepared lunch for the family
and I’m only adding a few more spoonfuls.”
Everywhere people offered tea.
It was just like El Salvador, where I have so many times
been fed and housed by the poor.
One of my favorite icons is the hospitality of Abraham
and Sarah. In the foreground are three angels seated
around a table, laden with food. Behind them are Abraham
and Sarah, standing and waiting on their guests. This was
my experience in Palestine and Israel. This is the
challenge for us all too private and individualistic
North Americans.
ORTHOPRAXIS
The Christian community in Palestine is very
heterogeneous. The largest Palestinian Christian
communities are the Greek Orthodox, the Greek Catholics
(often called the Melkite Catholics) and the Roman
Catholics. There are a number of other groups –
including small groups of Anglicans and Lutherans. There
is some cooperation – though there is also a lot of
pride in one’s inherited religion.
Omar was baptized Orthodox, but is truly ecumenical in
his faith. Yet he still holds dear his Orthodox heritage,
especially since it was the faith of his mother who died
four years ago.
A family in Beit Jala whom he and I visited several times
is Catholic, very Catholic. The father is very involved
in the local Catholic church. One daughter is teaching in
a Catholic school and another daughter attends Bethlehem
University.
The subject of religion often came up. The family was
glad that I was Catholic and that I worked in a Catholic
Church. The father good-naturedly teased Omar about being
Orthodox.
At one point I wanted to tell them that I was really an
Orthopractic.
Praxis, the Greek word for action, has become, especially
in Latin America, a word for the type of action that
flows from a faithful analysis of reality. Orthopraxis
thus means the right way of acting.
Doxa, in Greek, means belief but it can also refer to
glory.
So the critical issue for a believer is about right
belief and the right way to glorify God – as the
Orthodox might say. The issue is also about embracing the
universal message of Jesus – as Catholics might
say.
But as I read the Gospel for Thursday of the first week
of Advent, the central message was one not so much about
what we believe or how we worship, though these are
extremely important. The message was whether we do the
will of God, whether we practice what we believe, whether
we live out how we worship God, if we glorify God in all
we do. “Not everyone who says to me, Lord,
Lord,” will enter the Kingdom of God. But whoever
does the will of my heavenly Father.” (Matthew 7:
21)
And then the day before I left, the Second Sunday of
Advent, I listened as the Gospel reinforced the message:
“Produce good fruit as evidence of your
repentance.” (Matthew 3:8) Let us all be good
Orthopractics – and so glorify God!