Or So I Thought...

It was 2016 and I was standing on the border between the Gaza Strip and Israel.

Soldiers standing were guard in solid cement structures, a slit in the concrete just wide enough to make out the young soldier’s eyes.

“Over there,” our tour guide pointed, “is where Hamas dug a tunnel big enough for a truck to drive through.” They (Palestinians from Gaza), tunneled through the 1.8 miles of “no man’s land.” Land separating Israel and Gaza.

Growing up in the American Southwest, I learned in school and the news that Gaza was full of terrorists. All people who sought the destruction of Israel and the United States.

Here I stood, at the edge of “no man’s land” and for the first time, I heard a different narrative. A different story. And the narrator? An Israeli grandma.

Her neighborhood sat on the border and bomb shelters littered the quiet streets.

Most strikingly, on a street corner, near a playground, was a modest concrete structure.

“What’s that?” someone in our group asked her.

“Oh, that’s a bus stop for the school bus. The concrete is a bomb shelter for the kids. Alarms sound indicating there are incoming rockets and everyone has 15 seconds to seek shelter.”

I sat back in my seat. Shocked. That structure could only hold a couple children. Where would the rest of the children hide?

Now I was convinced… My upbringing, my education, and now what our guide just told us: Hamas, Gaza, Palestinians… they must be terrorists… inhumane.

Or so I thought…

Our tour guide invited us into her home. Dinner was prepared, and we ate mounds of food, typical fare and extravagance poured out to visitors when you visit the Middle East. We were grateful and anxious for more stories.

“Let’s call my friend. She’s a young woman who lives in Gaza.”

What? Bomb shelters, stories of rockets, no man’s land, and now she is calling a friend from over there? How can this be?

We sat nervously as the phone rang, and a young woman answered. She told us her story, her desire to live, to dream, to survive, she told us about her education and her family.

Her dreams were the same as mine. She was just like me. She’s not a terrorist, she’s not evil or inhumane. Didn’t she deserve to live and dream? Not to just survive, but to thrive?

As I listened that evening, I heard stories of teams of people sneaking Palestinians out of Gaza and into Israeli hospitals for care. Stories of Israeli doctors committed to the care, the health and the survival of their enemy.

My neat box I had built around my life, my understanding and my comfort zone was shattered. I didn’t have a box to put all these stories in.

The night went on… stories of Israeli’s and Palestinians who are friends, who love each other. Stories of Muslims and Christians, living side by side, working together, relying on each other. They were committed to a world where dignity and love ruled, not division and hate.

My entire worldview was shaken to the core. And this was why I chose to come.

This trip was facilitated by Amplify Peace, a movement of peacemakers around the world, and these particular trips are immersion trips where you have life-changing encounters with different stories you’ve never heard before.

And then I came home.

I sat at the Thanksgiving table, surrounded by family and friends.

People asked about my recent trip, but their interest fell flat. They did not actually want to know the different perspective now on the table. Could I blame them? What I had seen challenged much of what I believed to be true. Were they ready for this?

I felt completely isolated in my journey to process these perspectives. I cannot un-see what I have seen. I cannot un-hear the stories I heard. I cannot argue with someone’s lived truth and say it is wrong, just because it was contrary to my upbringing.

I turned to Amplify Peace, to learn the principles of peacemaking. I buried my head in books, listened to webinars and podcasts, anything to discover how to really listen to stories I had never heard before, and learn how to be a peacemaker in the midst of it and live differently because of it.

When the holiday season arrives, for many of us, the hot topics of our day are bound to arise during our holiday meals: the pandemic, politics, the lack of unity in our communities, tensions around race, opinions on protesting and more.

Chances are you’ll be sitting at tables this season with people who have different opinions than you. How will navigate these conversations? Here are some tips from Amplify Peace known as the “Principles of Peacemaking:”

1.     Seek to understand rather than be understood.

Listening to understand honors the teller. Sometimes it’s hard, and we must listen longer than feels comfortable.

2.     Humbly listen and learn, do not sit in judgement.

  Understand that every human is on a journey, and we’re all at different pit stops along the way. Some are just starting out, others are at the same pit stop as you, and others are beyond you. This is okay.

3.     Enter into open dialogue, not debates.

A conversation should go both ways. It’s like playing catch. It’s no fun to toss a ball to someone and they never toss it back. Allow the back and forth, ask questions, lean in. It is not a win to convince someone to agree with you. It’s a win when those trying to express their feelings or experience have the opportunity to do so.

4.     Frame questions respectfully.

Consider responses that go deeper. Use phrases like, “tell me more…” and “how did that make you feel?” Then listen without framing your response.  

5.     Respect one another’s unique journey and perspective.

God created humans different, with different lives, experiences, circumstances, and opinions. He did this on purpose. Our differences make us better, they make our society creative and innovative. Embrace this!

6.     Honor relationships over the need to be right.

Commit to doing everything you can to preserve relationships this season. It might not be easy, but imagine the appreciation and gratitude others will have when they see you care more about them as a person than their opinion, or politics. And remember, their opinions are based on a different life experience than your own. Their experience isn’t wrong, it’s different, and that’s okay.

7.     Believe you are engaging in a story bigger than your own.

This is way bigger than one relationship or one holiday meal. This is a new way of living. One that honors the person, their experience, and allows them the grace to be on the journey.

Will we make it through this season unscathed? Maybe not. But we can do our part. We can do our very best and own our role.

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Maya Angelou

If you want to learn more about Amplify Peace visit amplifypeace.com.