We're the Lunatics.

My Mister and I recently took a trip to Washington DC to  visit his brother. This was Vaughn's first visit to DC, and basically, he was like a kid in a candy store about all the museums, memorials, and historical landmarks. It was a blast! but the highlight of the trip was really the United States Memorial Holocaust Museum. If you have never been, it is a must. If you find yourself in the DC area, do not miss the opportunity to come to this museum. This is an amazing place. The format and layout is very inspired, and if you are able to devote several hours to visit this museum, it can change your life and your entire perspective of humanity.

Lincoln Memorial

A co-worker asked me why I would go somewhere so sad. And yeah, it is devastating and heart-wrenching. The Holocaust was one of the worst events in human history, and we continue to feel emotional repercussions of it through continued generations. All of humanity has been affected. We spent about four hours soaking up all the perfectly laid out information, and I swear I cried at least 3 hours of that time. It is an excruciating topic, but it is crucial. Avoiding hard things in history does not help us learn from them. If we do not face these events head on, we are bound to repeat the atrocities.  Hitler himself knew that he could "get away" with such barbaric tactics because similar acts had slid through the cracks before. He is quoted saying of the Armenian Genocide: 

"I have issued the command and I'll have anybody who utters but one word of criticism executed by a firing squad that our war aim does not consist in reaching certain lines, but in the physical destruction of the enemy. Accordingly, I have placed my death-head formations in readiness for the present only in the East with orders to them to send to death mercilessly and without compassion, men, women, and children of Polish derivation and language. Only thus shall we gain the living space (Lebensraum) which we need. Who, after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the Armenians?" 

Do you think talking about the Armenian Genocide would have prevented the Holocaust? I don't know. But perhaps it would've given more people pause, and perhaps more people would have survived the concentration camps. So let's talk about it. Let's talk about how easy it is for history to repeat itself.

The museum is is organized in three floors: 1.) how Hitler came to power and how Nazi propaganda turned public opinion against the Jewish people, 2.) the concentration camps, and 3.) the resolution and end of war. We spent a lot more time on the first floor than the 2nd and 3rd, because I found it fascinating how it all went down. Germany had a solid government in place, didn't it? It had checks and balances. It had democracy. How did this happen?

While we were on the first floor, I overheard a woman say, "It takes a lot of very sick people to do this..." and my internal response was something akin to this:

I wanted to turn to her and shake her. No! It doesn't take a lot of "sick" people! That's the point of this whole museum. because these were regular people, good citizens, fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers. People with jobs just like yours and mine. People who came home at night, ate dinner with their family, attended church, volunteered, watched TV, worried about their children's futures, and where to get the best price for groceries. It doesn't take a lot of sick people. It simply takes a lot of scared people.

Fear can change the perspective and opinion of nations. The Nazis came to power because people were afraid. The economy was in difficult times, the world had already been ripped to pieces from the brutal "Great War," and Germany was in trouble. When you feel weak and afraid, human nature dictates to turn to the strongest ally you can see. That ally just happened to be a power-hungry psycho who has done far more damage to our world than just making the name "Adolf" taboo for your child, all the while promising to bring redemption to their country.

Hitler and his party were originally viewed as the crazy, right wing party. They were in the minority. A non-threat. Hitler landed himself in prison, no one really cared. He wrote a book. No one really cared. His racist newspaper was banned. Meh. He was viewed as a bigot, an extremist, someone you didn't want leading your country. But he became High Chancellor, and within months, dictator because people were scared. People started saying, "You know, there has to be someone to blame for this crisis we're in. Hey, Hitler seems to be yelling pretty loudly. Oh, and he's blaming people who look and act different than us? Sounds about right." and thus they developed an almost cult following. 

Portraits

I want to say that this cannot happen in our world today. I want to say that our human society has become more diverse, we have access to knowledge about different governments, cultures, religions, lifestyles and skin colors. I want to say that, but at the same time I don't know if I can stand behind that statement. Because the Internet is amazing. But both a strength and a downfall of this versatile tool, is that you can find exactly what you look for. Although the resources are there, we don't always use them for good. Just like we can have healthy food in grocery stores, doesn't mean we'll get thinner and our cholesterol will go down. We surround ourselves with what we want to hear, what we want to know about. If you don't want to read the Quran, you won't. If you want to learn how horrible Muslims are, that's what you find. We are a society who benefit from the Internet as a medium for us to pick out facts that validate our already stubborn beliefs--buffet-style. We can unfollow, unfriend, unsubscribe, and un-associate with whoever we want, and create this nice cush bubble of opinions we agree with. This is especially dangerous as we run ourselves headlong into an anti-political, no-negotiation, no-conversation, bullheaded way of solving issues. We say MY issue is more important than THEIR issue. My infirmity is more important than the struggle of that homosexual or that homeless person or that Muslim or that Israeli or the person that lives in the city or that of the farmer. We no longer look at the big picture. Which is the biggest irony of our age today, when so much of that big picture is available to us with our information inundation. Here's why that is an extremely dangerous thing to do.

A tactic used by Hitler's regime was to inundate the airwaves with antisemitic propaganda. Over and over, every poster, every newspaper, every radio show had jabs at Jews. They're parasites, they're not like you, they're rats, they're manipulators, they'll take advantage of your kindness, they want to take over the world. He has a quote from Mein Kampf, "If you tell a big enough lie and tell it frequently enough, it will be believed." And boy, that lie was caught, hook, line and sinker.

Deuteronomy 4:9

Nowadays, WE control our own personal airwaves. WE create our own propaganda. If you only follow one newspaper, if you only watch Fox News (or CNN or BBC) or only ready The Skimm (guilty) then you are getting biased data. No matter how hard that news agency tries to be down the middle on the spectrum. You are forming a cone of ignorance. Very specific opinions swirl and reverberate around your head.  And THAT is how we become bigoted and allow horrendous things to happen to people. The Holocaust didn't occur because Germany was full of sadistic psychopaths. It happened because regular people like you and me were scared and thus manipulated without realizing it. If we're not recognizing our own biases, checking our privilege, challenging our views, showing empathy to people very different from ourselves, we too live in our own propaganda driven worlds.

In the very last part of the museum was this quote from a Protestant pastor named Martin Niemöller:

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—

Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—

Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— 

Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

We are taught to apply the scriptures to ourselves. That's really hard. It's hard to step back and say "this isn't written for people long past," this isn't for people who aren't Mormon, this isn't for the neighbor who leaves church early or even your spouse who has that annoying habit. It's for you. It's for you. 

We also fall into this habit with history. We don't "liken" history unto ourselves. We think the mistakes of the past are made because our ancestors were ignorant and dumb. But we have the benefit of retrospect. We see the outcome of their actions, but we often can't see the outcomes of our own actions. Germans weren't stupid. They weren't ignorant. I would bet we would be just as apt to make the same decisions they did if we did not know the horrors awaiting to be written in history books. But we have the benefit from this knowledge. We can learn from those mistakes. 

At the end of George Orwell's classic, "Animal Farm," is a very poignant. The pigs have started walking on two legs and were having dinner with neighboring farmers and other men. The other animals are peaking in the windows to see what they're up to. 

"But they had not gone twenty yards when they stopped short. An uproar of voices was coming from the farmhouse. They rushed back and looked through the window again. Yes, a violent quarrel was in progress. There were shoutings, bangings on the table, sharp suspicious glances, furious denials. The source of the trouble appeared to be that Napoleon [a pig] and Mr. Pilkington [a man] had each played an ace of spades simultaneously.  Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and they were all alike. No question, now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which." 

Are we the pigs, or are we the men? 

 The banner in front of the DC Holocaust museum states in bold, all capital letters "NEVER AGAIN." If we don't see that repetition of history is a possibility, we have learned nothing from the  atrocities of the Holocaust. The museum has been for naught. So let us be kind. Let us strive to understand people different from us. Let us welcome challenges to our faith systems, our perspectives, our opinions. Let us "act and not be acted upon." Let us change our minds, and let others do the same. Let us be brave and stand up against the world's atrocities. Let us have the courage to see the plights of others and let us learn precious empathy. Let the human race progress and become better. Let us always remember that "we are the lunatics." But most of all, let us learn to love people better, especially those different from ourselves. 

Weekend Warrior.

Sometimes you have back-to-back adventures that take you from one corner of the country to the next and you walk yourself ragged and enjoy the wonders of inner-city public trans. And sometimes you have a weekend of perfection at home with your SO. 

This weekend was that weekend. It was an ideal  weekend that reminded me why I love weekends so much. In the past few weeks we spent a few days at Disneyland and a couple days in Washington DC. It was soooo fun, but we are soooo tired.

And this week was rough. Like, fell-down-the-stairs, messed-things-up-at-work, almost-missed-my-flight-home kind of rough.  I needed this weekend to be a restful one so I could deflate from the long vacation and from the work week. So what constitutes the perfect weekend for me? Allow me to give you a rough outline:

Friday night—Date night! Vaughn and I went to grab dinner at the mall food court and watched the new Captain America movie (so good!). It wasn’t super romantic, but it was sweet time with my dude.

Saturday –The beauty of Saturday is you don’t have any time frame to stay inside. Like, I can read my scriptures for as long as I want in the morning without having to cut it short to race to work. So I woke up and did just that. Then I went for a run—which is a big deal for me, since I haven’t run in several months due to an injury. It was beautiful and sunny, but not too hot. Per-fect-oh. Then I read a bit, made breakfast for my husband, dawdled online with emails and blog stuffs. And by some miracle, I convinced Vaughn to come with me grocery shopping! Huzzah! He hates grocery shopping, but when he does go, he tries to act annoying so I don’t ever take him with me again. I think it’s cute. Mostly. That afternoon, we hung out with some of our best people. We did a picnic up at Bridal Veil Falls and played with their baby (I made him cry by trying to put sunscreen on him. Whoops). As our Saturday night tradition dictates, Vaughn and I grabbed some A&W root beer on the way home and watched some cheesy 90s movie we found on Netflix. It was a productive, yet somehow also lazy Saturday. You can't get much better than that! 

Sunday—Fun day! I adore the Sabbath. I love the opportunity to have an entire day to devote to serving and thinking of Christ. It’s refreshing and rejuvenates my spirit. As I started writing this, it started pouring rain outside, and it's one of the most calming sounds for me. Rain patters and Rob Gardner make a perfect Sabbath soundtrack. 

We also have a really fabulous ward with truly inspirational people. My church group functions as I believe all Christian church communities should: we take care of each other, we uplift one another, we don’t judge, we just genuinely love on one another, and we help each other center on Christ. I have the perfect example of this.

In my church, we have something called visiting teaching where each woman in the ward is assigned a couple of women to fellowship. The idea is that no one falls through the cracks, and each sister’s visiting teacher can be a friend and support. I’ve had the same visiting teacher for probably two years now. She is wonderful, wise, and supportive. Well, the assignments recently changed in my ward and she is no longer my teacher. She went out of her way to come up to me to say that although she’s no longer my visiting teacher, she still wants me to know she’s there if she needs anything and that she’d like to have us over for dinner sometime. I was very touched by that. And this is true of so many people in our ward! I have learned so much from them.

Although Sundays have been pretty busy for both Vaughn and I due to our callings in the church, it truly is a day of rest and rejuvenation as we are uplifted and guided by the Lord. Serving others is the best medicine for a hard week. 

Cheers to another successful weekend for the books! Good luck on your Monday! 

Reclaiming Easter

          For a long time, it was difficult for me to motivate myself to “get in the spirit” of Christmas each December. What with all the cacophony of consumerism and stress of the winter holidays, it is always difficult for me to feel like Christmas is actually a celebration of Christ. I mean, I get it. Christ was born of a virgin. It’s a miracle. But the fact that he was born as a man wouldn’t be important at all if it wasn’t for what happened at Gethsemane—and not just Gethsemane, but Cavalry and especially the following Sunday Morning. To me, Christmas has nothing on Easter.

          Easter is very real and very easy for me to get excited about. In fact, I would even say Easter is my favorite holiday, because I actually understand what the fuss is all about. I’ve always spent Easter with Christ as the focus. My family always had a special lamb dinner to remember the Lamb. My mother always lovingly gave us Easter cards with scriptures; the cross was a prominent decoration and reminder; we always attended church where we usually heard an Easter Cantata or some sort of music dedicated to Christ and the Atonement along with a sermon emphasized on what the Resurrection means for us. Even as a twenty-five year old woman, I still get an Easter package every year. It’s as big a holiday for my family as is Thanksgiving or Christmas.  And isn’t that how it should be? Shouldn’t it be the most important holiday that we can celebrate?

This year's Easter package from my mama

          Joseph Smith said, “The fundamental principles of our religion are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it.” The Atonement and the Resurrection are what it’s all about! Nothing would matter without it. There would be no “good news,” just a harsh line separating good and evil, leaving “the good” unattainable, and The Law condemning us all in our imperfections. 

          But that isn’t the end. The end is more glorious than any of the disciples could have imagined. Jesus died, after three dark days, rose again. The resurrection is a testament that God does not leave us in our sorrows. Our life story is not a tragedy. As President Hinckley said, “Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.” When Mary Magdalene first went to Christ’s tomb that Sunday morning, she mistook it as the end.

          For me, this is the climax of the beautiful Easter story. Mary Magdalene is at the garden tomb. She has seen that the tomb is empty and had immediately gone to the Apostles. Peter and John had run to see for themselves, but soon left Mary alone and weeping in the Garden. She is heartbroken that her Lord has been betrayed and killed and now his body stolen? This is too much. Then a man, who she believes is the gardener, asks her what is wrong. She unknowingly responds with an emotional plea to know where the body of Jesus is. She does not recognize the man as her lord and savior until he says her name.

          “Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master.” (John 20:16) As if the storm clouds broke to reveal a marvelous sun shining, the sorrow vanishes and is replaced by sheer joy. The grave could not hold him! Jesus overcame death to bring us hope! His victory is for us individually. 

          I heard someone once speak of Luke 22:43 in a church meeting, where an angel came to Jesus while he suffered in Gethsemane. The scripture says the angel provided comfort. The speaker said “What could the angel have possibly said to bring comfort to Christ while he endured the pains and sorrows of all of humanity? I think the only comfort the angel could offer during this time was a reminder of why he was suffering. A reminder of those for whom he was atoning, those he loved so well—or in other words, us. To Christ, I suggest that the angel was whispering our names.”

Now this isn’t doctrine, but it definitely depicts how deep Christ’s love is for each of us individually. If you were the only person on Earth, Christ’s love extends so far that he would suffer and atone for just you.

          However this is a two sided coin. A true understanding of what Christ did shows that if Christ would die for just me, he would willingly sacrifice for each person you meet. Every person you see on the street, every brother and sister, every coworker, neighbor, felon, immigrant and politician. This idea hit me hard this week. I was listening to Lamb of God by Rob Gardner when I was told that someone had intentionally, blatantly and cruelly belittled my husband. My husband, the kindest, most loyal goofball anyone will ever meet. The man with a heart of gold who goes out of his way to help people. The man I love! I was lividly stewing about it, thinking about how we’re supposed to turn the other cheek, and what I’d do if we weren’t instructed to do so. I was finding comfort in the thought that people like that will get their just rewards in the end—then I realized, as I listened to Mary’s song, “Here is Hope,” that no. “People like that” will not get their just rewards. And that’s the point of the Atonement, that none of us will get what we deserve.

          It is extremely humbling to realize that I am part of the demographic of “people like that.” We all are. We all are desperately in need of a Savior, whether we realize it or not. And any sin, “big” or “small,” prevents us from entering the presence of God. I’m still wrestling with this concept.  There are only a few people in the world I would say I hated, and as a Christian I am being asked to see them as someone worthy of love? Not just my love, but the love of my sweet Savior as well? Not by my strength can such a feat be attained. And that’s why Sunday Morning is so important. As President Packer said “Restoring what you cannot restore, healing the wound you cannot heal, fixing that which you broke and you cannot fix is the very purpose of the atonement of Christ.” 

          So how do we celebrate this sacred day, glorious day of all days? Here are some ways that Vaughn and I have found help us really center on Christ during the Easter season. Our traditions are mostly during Holy Week, from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday. I would love to hear how you celebrate the Savior during this special season personally and with your families!

Music

          Last weekend we attended a production of Lamb of God, (mentioned previously), performed by Witness Music Utah, an interdenominational Christian musical group. It is a powerful oratorio about the last few days of Christ’s mortal life. It depicts emotions of the apostles and his mother, Mary during the events. It has a strong message of hope laced throughout, and I wish I had the ability to express how much this work impacted me. I felt not only Christ’s love, but a deep love for him in return. Lamb of God was an answer to prayer. I bought the CD as soon as I could and have been listening to it every single day since. If you have the chance, I would strongly recommend seeing this performance live next year, but until then, you can buy the CD at WitnessMusicUtah.org. It is SO GOOD. Aside from Lamb of God, I’ve found that listening to Easter hymns really help you reflect on the Savior and the Atonement.

Family Scripture Study 

          We also redirected our nightly family scripture study to the scriptures that corresponded with the events of Holy Week.  You can find these kinds of reading lists on Pinterest (where you find most everything else) or in this article from one of Vaughn’s amazing religion professors: Eric D Huntsman. Here is Dr. Huntsman’s reading list:

Palm Sunday: Triumphal Entry; cleansing of the temple
(Matthew 21:1–17; Mark: 11:1–11; Luke 19:28–46; John 12:12–19)

Monday: Cursing of the fig tree; cleansing of the temple in Mark; teaching in the temple
(Matthew 21:18–22:14; Mark 11:12–19; Luke 19:47–20:18; John 12:20–36)

Tuesday: Lessons from the fig tree; more teachings in the; the Olivet Discourse
(Matthew 22:15–25:46; Mark 11:20–13:37; Luke 20:19–21:38; John 12:37–50)

Wednesday: Plot to kill Jesus; the anointing described by Mark and Matthew; Judas agrees to betray Jesus
(Matthew 26:1–16; Mark 14:1–11; Luke 22:1–6)

Thursday: The Last Supper; Gethsemane; betrayal and arrest; Jesus before the Jewish authorities (Matthew 26:17–26:75; Mark 14:12–72; Luke 22:7–71; John 13:1–18:27)

Good Friday: Jesus in the hands of the Romans; the Crucifixion; the burial
(Matthew 27:1–61; Mark 15:1–47; Luke 23:1–56; John 18:28–19:42)

Saturday: Jesus in the Spirit World
(Matthew 27:62–66; 3 Nephi 9–10; 1 Peter 3:18–4:6; D&C 138)

Easter Sunday: The Resurrection
(Matthew 28:1–15; Mark 16:1–14; Luke 24:1–49; John 20:1–23)

Family Night 

          This year we spent our family night making Resurrection cookies and reading through the story of Jesus’ betrayal and resurrection as laid out here. The cookies are meringue-like and bake with a hollow hole in the center to symbolize the empty tomb. In the past, we have also made Lazarakia bread. That is an orthodox tradition where you make this heavy sweet bread in the shape of Lazarus in the burial shroud. 

Resurrection cookies

Dinner in the Dark

          In the Book of Mormon, we learn that during the three days after Jesus’ death, there was complete darkness. (3 Nephi 8:20-23) To remember this, we had a meal in the dark by candlelight on Saturday. We had sparkling grape juice and challah bread (Jewish braided sweet bread eaten during Shabbat).

Holla for the Challah!

Candlelight dinner

Seek out Opportunities

          This year we had the opportunity to attend BYU’s Easter Conference, where we heard Dr. Huntsman, Dr. Daniel K. Judd and the beloved Sheri Dew speak. They spoke of the Atonement and standing as witnesses of Christ. It was the perfect way to celebrate Good Friday. There are also opportunities to participate in Messiah sings and other concerts (like Lamb of God!) in your community. Seek them out! 

          I know some who actually take Good Friday off work to celebrate in their personal way. I had the blessing of attending a Christian university that gave us Good Friday off, and I found great significance in taking the opportunity to go to the temple. In my church, because baptism is so important, we believe in performing baptisms by proxy for those who have passed without the opportunity of being baptized in this life. Proxy baptisms and other ordinances are performed in LDS temples. I found great significance in taking the opportunity to go to the temple and worship in that way on Good Friday. "Dying," by being lowered into the water and "rising" as you are lifted out truly helped me better understand what Christ did and how we each have our own personal "deaths" and victories every day (1 Corinthians 15:31) as we utilize the Atonement in our lives. 

          I know that my Savior lives. I am grateful for His Atonement and the opportunity to start over again and again. I’m grateful for Christ’s example, and his patience with me. I know it is through him that I can be made whole. And I know that what President Howard W. Hunter said is true: “Whatever Jesus lays his hand upon lives.” By his stripes I have been healed, and because he rose again, I can become better. 

Hallelujah!

How to Not Be a Jerk on the Internet: An Open Letter to Myself

Dear Rebecca,

The internet should be used as a tool to connect people, spread information, and to make the world a little smaller. It is a double-edged sword. Proper and appropriate use of the internet can and has benefited humanity as a whole on a grand scale, but acting immature, unkind and ungrateful for the gift of the internet has dastardly consequences that hurts human progression. I write this letter out of concern. You have been guilty of the latter for the past few months. Political tensions are high and your sense of justice may be considered admirable by some, but is contrary to your personal ethos.

In 2011, E. Dallin H. Oaks spoke about Truth and Tolerance: “As modern transportation and communication have brought all of us into closer proximity to different peoples and different ideas, we have greater need for tolerance. …

“This greater exposure to diversity both enriches our lives and complicates them. We are enriched by associations with different peoples, which remind us of the wonderful diversity of the children of God. But diversities in cultures and values also challenge us to identify what can be embraced as consistent with our gospel culture and values and what cannot. In this way diversity increases the potential for conflict and requires us to be more thoughtful about the nature of tolerance.”

You have left embers in your wake with your fiery, sometimes cruel words. Is that what you stand for? Is that what you want to be known for? No. That is not who you are. My dear, “be loyal to the royal within you.”  You are a daughter of God, a disciple of Christ. You are called to be better. To be the light, not someone who breeds darkness and bitterness like a monster pouring black paint on other’s artwork. 

Allow me to remind you what you stand for. You stand for conversation, not argument. You believe the internet can be a tool to not just connect people to their friends and family, but to expand their horizon of thought. It is a tool for understanding those you may never meet, and learning about circumstances beyond your experience to increase your empathy for your fellow man. You stand for what is spoken of in Ephesians 4:29, “Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may , minister grace unto the hearers.”  You believe in edifying your brothers and sisters in Christ, and those who have a different faith, or no faith at all. You believe “in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men…If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, [you] seek after these things” (13th article of faith). First and foremost, you believe in loving people—and that includes people who disagree with you. 

Here are some guidelines to keep in mind when interacting on the interwebs to bring light to those of your acquaintance.

1. Respect people

You often see people with posts that say “If you do such-and-such thing, you’re an idiot,” That’s telling people that based on your opinions (not your actions, not who you are), you are unworthy of respect. They are not. He or she is someone’s parent, friend, sibling, child. Regardless of their point of view, they are a child of God. They are our brother or sister and have the right to be treated with love and kindness. And when you humanize someone, they are far more likely to respond kindly back than if you treat them like an imbecile.

Even worse, you are more likely to disrespect those you do not know. It’s easy if all you know about someone is their name (or sometimes even just their username). They aren’t a breathing, feeling, complete human being in your mind. They’re just a voice on Facebook who disagrees.  I would urge you to remember that people are still people. Every disagreeing voice on Facebook is still a human being. 

2. Eliminate the US vs THEM mentality.

A house divided cannot stand, right? Rebecca, in your self-proclaimed perspective, you attribute the polarity issue in our country as the number one obstacle to beneficial development. Then you go and play into it yourself. 

 Progress in our country will only be reached when we realize that people have different opinions and different perspectives, but all are trying to make the United States better. This article expresses this point very thoroughly. Polarizing people, blaming one side for the downfalls of our nation, is insipid. We have problems because we are a nation run by people, and nothing man ever creates is without flaw. There should be no Republicans vs Democrats, no White vs Black (or any people of color), no Rich vs. Poor, no Men vs. Women, no Christians vs. Atheists. 

For example, no, the democrats are not trying to ruin the country by letting Muslims in, and no, Republicans aren’t trying to be racist jerks by not letting them in. If there was fluid, incorrupt communication between the two, we would see democrats are acting out of compassion and republicans are acting in defense of their families and well-being. Both sides have good intentions. If everyone had an honest conversation, there would be less mud-slinging and more learning. Hearts would soften because you’re hearing about someone’s experience rather than someone’s “wrong” opinion. 

Marvin J. Ashton has a quote that says, “Woe unto those who feast on the dirt and the distasteful instead of the fruits.”

3. Don’t respond in kind when others are not kind. 

Sometimes, even when you play nice, there are people who will not. Be humble enough to apologize when you need to, but have enough self-respect to walk away from a cat fight that’s a-brewing. That’s what “turn the other cheek” means.

When Christ was confronted before the Sanhedrin in Matthew 26, it is said his response to the high priest was simply that he “held his peace” (verse 63).  Rebecca, you can learn a lot from what Jesus said, but you can also learn from his silence. Sometimes, especially on the internet where any amount of careful wording can be misconstrued, silence is the kindest, most respectful option.

Ellen DeGeneres said this when she was given the People’s Choice Humanitarian Award: “It’s a little strange to actually get an award for being nice and generous and kind. Which is what we’re all supposed to do with one another. That’s the point of being human.” And I would add, that is a huge part of being Christian.

4. Cool your jets. 

Don’t shop for groceries when you’re hungry. 

Don’t send a letter when you’re angry. 

Don’t make legal decisions when you’re on painkillers. 

Don’t drive when you’re upset. 

And don’t post on Facebook when you’re feeling overly passionate. 

A representation of what internet arguments look like.

You have strong opinions, Rebecca. That is evident. You feel a lot by nature, and community is important to you. That’s pretty normal. Most people want that. But when someone who you thought would be on your side turns out to have very different opinions, you lash out in indignation—and yes, burn bridges. Your first response is usually the natural man, so take a step back, take a walk, go index, go clean something and think about what specifically upset you. Is this person your friend? Would starting a conversation about your opinions be helpful or hurtful? If you can’t approach it with a level head, just keep scrolling. Or better yet, go do something useful with your time. 

5. Value people.

“Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God;” (Doctrine & Covenants 18:10)

Everyone is entitled to an opinion. If you had the entirety of someone’s life experiences, their economic situation, their family life, their education, or their faith system, you may very well have their exact same sentiment. My husband often says “If you know someone’s story, it makes it hard not to love them.” I think that’s really true. If someone agrees with you, you feel this burning desire to explain why you think the way you do. Don’t you think others have the same desire? So hear them out, and pray that they hear you out too. Who knows, maybe that’ll start a conversation that leads to progress. Maybe you’ll change your mind. And that’s more than okay. That’s what we’re called here to do. We are meant to grow, and learn and become more educated—and guess what? Sometimes that means changing your mind. If you haven’t changed your mind about anything, you haven’t learned anything. 

Before posting, ask yourself these questions: 

• Is it edifying?
• Will it be heard well and correctly by those you are communicating with?
• Are you responding in anger or genuine desire to have a conversation?

If there is one thing I hope to take out of this life, it’s to learn to value people over being right. 

This year will be challenging for you. It’s an election year. You’ll be tempted to post things you find funny, but may offend someone or lead to bickering in the comment section. Sometimes you’ll get riled up. Sometimes you’ll be hurt by posts from your friends. Some friends will say things like “if you vote this way, delete me.” Don’t. You will see posts you think are bigoted, racist, small-minded, ridiculous, sexist, nonsensical and some absolutely crazy--and it will be from people you like. Just let it go. This horrendous season called "election year" will pass, and relative peace will return to your news feeds. The cat videos and selfies will return soon enough.

Remember who you are and remember who everyone else is too. That is, they are your brothers and sisters on this speck of blue in the vastness of the cosmos. 

Remember that the world is changed by your example, not your opinion. Go and do better than you have.

And first and foremost, remember to love your fellow inhabitants of the earth. 

with love,

Yourself

Humble Pie and Healing.

          I pride myself in being a very independent person. My mom says I’ve been like this since I was little. From telling my grandma I wanted mayonnaise on my banana bread to wanting to play my own player at a board game, I was a stubborn little girl who always wanted to do things by myself. To this day, I love being independent and “grown up.” I was anxious to get my driver’s license when I was 16. I was anxious to have a job as soon as it was legal. I’ve filed my own darn taxes since I was 17. I enjoy making lists and schedules and meal plans and budgets.  This may come as a surprise to some of you (*cough*sarcasm*cough*) but I am a control freak. I know. SURPRISE!

 Well, Heavenly Father knows when to knock us off our high-horses, and it was about time for me to cram down some humble pie. I have had to be extremely dependent on others. As of today, I have not been able to drive nor walk very far for 22 days, and although I was permitted to return to work, I had to stay at my desk for two weeks. For my job, I usually spend 70% of my time in the lab. As I recover from surgery, it has been a challenge for me.  

What happened is I broke the tibial sesamoid in my right foot by landing wrong after a pirouette. It was my senior year of college, about three years ago. There was a sharp pain in my right foot, but it didn’t bother me after that. I thought nothing of it until I moved to Utah and decided I really wanted to run a half marathon. As I increased my weekly mileage my foot would just ache. I kept trying to ease into it slower and slower, iced it, massaged it, but regardless of how easy I took my runs, my foot was hurting worse. I sought out a podiatrist here in Utah. X-rays showed that I had broken a sesamoid in both feet, but my left foot was asymptomatic (which just means it’s worked itself out and doesn’t hurt). The left injury probably happened while I was running at some point and I just didn’t notice. My doctor said it wasn’t common to have both broken, but since my foot is hyper mobile, meaning it moves laterally more than most feet do, I am prone to it. Just like my mom.

                I inherited some really wonderful things from my mother. Her graceful hands, her empathy for others, her optimism, her deep emotions, her gumption, her concern for others. But unfortunately, I also inherited her feet. Her small, slender feet with high arches and hyper mobility. Weak feet with a tendency to break. In fact, she broke both her sesamoids too! How cute are we.

My doctor gave me some options before talking about surgery, but the pain was increasing. Last year I realized I couldn’t do yoga anymore. Hiking was out. Running was definitely out. I was confined to specific types of strength training because lunges, which put vertical pressure directly on your sesamoid, had become a special type of torture.  

After over a year of other attempts, I opted for the surgery—a tibial sesamoidectomy, to be exact, which is a big, big word for “Let’s take this broken bone out!”  I was pretty freaked out about it. I’ve never had surgery before, unless you count getting wisdom teeth taken out. When I had my pre-operation appointment, my doctor was explaining exactly what they would do in as sensitive a way as he could, but I almost passed out. He noticed my pallor and stopped with the gruesome details and then spoke about my options for anesthetic. He explained general anesthetic, a lighter general anesthetic called MAC, or just local anesthetic. When he went to the last option, he said “but I definitely wouldn’t recommend that for you, because then you’d be awake for it.”Another wave of nausea came over me.

When I talked to my mom about my pre-op, she started laughing.

“What!?” I asked.

“I just didn’t know you were such a wimp!” My mother said she had just gotten the local anesthetic. I was astonished. I mean, I knew my mom is pretty thug. But she was awake for the entirety of her surgery?! She could see all the blood, she could hear the sound of her foot being mangled up, and could smell all the great smells that accompany surgery. Man, my mom is a champ! Beneath her bubbly exterior, she is one tough cookie.  

I was pretty shaky and weepy the day of the surgery. I had this irrational fear that the anesthetic wouldn’t work and I would just be paralyzed but conscious. My wonderful husband gave me a priesthood blessing, and that helped. The surgery was done at Orem Community Hospital and I was superbly impressed with the staff there. They answered all sorts of silly questions and explained everything really thoroughly. They made me laugh, which is really important for me when I’m anxious and stressed. I met all of the nurses and doctors who would be working on me face to face before being rolled into the surgery area. Honestly, the worst part was getting the IV put in. I usually have great veins.  I donate blood often and have never had a bad experience.  But the combination of dehydration from fasting and nervous jitters made my veins shrink. They had to go through my hand, which was pretty uncomfortable. This easily could have been my first bad experience with needles, but the nurse was awesome so it turned out okay.

                When I woke up after the surgery, my sweet husband was next to me. He was on his phone and I asked him what he was doing. He said he was texting his mom. LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE. He was writing down the loopy things I was saying, because I had actually been awake and chattering away for a while before I was really conscious of it. Which, kudos to him, because it was hilarious. I’m glad he was there to document it.

Here are some of the things this crazy nut says when she gets out of surgery:

Me: "Where is the doctor?"
V: "He's gone."
Me: "You mean he bailed!?!?!?!"

"The prep was the worst part...this feels amazing!"

"Can I see the bone?" (I asked this several times, even though I told Vaughn specifically I didn’t want to see it the day before)

Said with great emphasis: "I'm coming back!!!!"

"If you're going to die, this is the way to go; just fall asleep, man..." This is, in fact, how Rodney Dangerfield wanted to die. I totally get it.

"Why was I freaked out about this...the worst part was poking the IV in... (looking down at my hand) Which is still here!!!!!!!!"

V: "Why don't you try to eat something."
Me: "That's like, the best suggestion you've made..."

Nurse: "Here is some apple juice".
V: "Hey, drink your apple juice."
Me (drinking apple juice): "Hey! This is apple juice!!!"

                Since then, I have been simply doted upon. My friend Ashley came and stayed with me the first day when Vaughn had to go to school. My friend Morgan brought me M&Ms and gum. The Browns brought me dinner.  My in-laws sent me this mondo care package that consisted of a butler’s bell to ring for help and enough snacks to build a fort with. I received phone calls, texts, and messages galore just checking in with me to see if I needed anything.

                And then there was Vaughn. My husband, AKA WORLD’S BEST TEAMMATE AND SWEETEST HUSBAND OF ALL TIME. He went above and beyond anything I could have imagined or asked for. That was extremely humbling for me. I strive to be the one to take care of him. In this time of our married life, I get to be the bread-winner, I get to make him dinner, I drive us most places. He remembered to do everything the nurses suggested. He sent me text reminders to hobble around like I was supposed to every hour while he was at school. He did the exercises assigned to make sure I had adequate blood flow to my toes and to check for blood clots. He made me dinner—something he’s not the most familiar with doing. But he did so very cheerfully. He brought me ice packs and took them off at the right times. He even set alarms to wake up throughout the night to put ice packs on and off, even though I said he shouldn’t worry about it at night. But he insisted because the nurses said the first 24 hours were the most important to keep the swelling down. He did this for three nights. THREE NIGHTS. He was sweet without being asked, he was sensitive to my needs. He would bring me a blanket when he knew I forgot. He kept my water filled up consistently. He bought me meds from the store. He took on the glamorous job of helping me bathe when I couldn’t do it by myself. This man is a champ. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve him. It’s not like he doesn’t have a full plate. He has a really challenging semester. He has enough to worry about without a gimp wife.  But he never complained. He’s an angel. I can’t give this man enough accolades.

                Another aspect of this surgery was giving up piano for a while. We had just purchased a digital piano, which I have fallen in love with. It’s been so long since I’ve had a piano in my home, basically since I moved out of my mom’s place, that it has been a major treat to have a piano again. But I had to give up a couple months of accompanying my ward’s choir. It’s a silly thing, and I know there are many people capable and willing to take my place. But I’m really selfish, and it’s something I really enjoy doing. It took a lot of effort to admit I couldn’t do it for a while.

                To be honest, I really like feeling needed. And for a few weeks, I felt basically useless. I didn’t cook dinner. I didn’t put on make-up. I didn’t go grocery shopping.  I didn’t do much. And I was so powerless that I had to allow people to help me, and I was extremely humbled to see how many people were sincerely willing to help me. Heavenly Father has placed special people in my life to help me feel loved. Not needed, just loved.

                It was a tender reminder that we don’t need to do anything to receive God’s love. We come to him as we are and plop ourselves before him, with our messy buns and clumsy words, and he shows us that we are his beloved, divine daughters.  Heavenly Father would be so happy to take care of His children, if we just place the precious pearl of our lives into his very capable hands.

                Today, I am grateful. I needed this surgery more than just physically. My heart is softened and I felt a layer of calloused pride be stripped away. I have been watched over and administered to by angel friends and family. Healing has come quickly. The incision is scarred up, discoloration almost nonexistent, most mobility has returned.  I never felt much pain, just some discomfort from a nerve which I realized for the first time this evening no longer hurts. I have high hopes of running again. I still want to do a half marathon. I also look forward to dancing and hiking and going on walks with my husband and practicing yoga.  You guys, I am so excited. 

Clashes.

Israel / Palestine – Part 2

This next and final part of the blog may seem like a hodgepodge of events that don’t exactly come together in a neat and tidy pattern. That’s sort of what it felt like: we were given all these different experiences, puzzle pieces that didn’t go together, and we struggled to make sense of them and combine them as a cohesive whole.  This is an attempt.

Our second day in Israel, we went to Independence Hall in Tel Aviv, where Israel declared itself a country in 1948. We heard from a very enthusiastic, passionate historian name Ruthe. She was charismatic and emphatic in talking about her nation. She talked about Jews as being the underdog. They were persecuted for hundreds of years by Europeans, by Russians, even by Americans. In some of their most desperate times of need, they were blocked out of countries and left to die in concentration camps. Everywhere they went, they were driven out, killed, robbed, treated as criminals just because they worshipped differently, dressed differently, spoke differently. Millions of Jews worldwide were facing the same persecution, until one day, a man named Herzl came along and said “Enough. After centuries of this treatment, we deserve our own nation.” And the underdog, the age-old victims fought their way for a place to call home. It was an emotional speech, and it was evident how important this event was to Ruthe. There was also a Jewish family with us for her presentation who were in tears thinking about the struggles. Jews have faced an existential crisis for hundreds of years. And it’s important to remember that. Every decision made by Israel has come from a fear of losing everything. Because they have come close to extinction many times in our not-so-glamourous history.

                Shortly after Tel Aviv, we stopped by Jaffa. Beautiful place, Jaffa. It’s on the coast, you can see the Tel Aviv skyline light up the sky like celestial stars. There’s this pseudo-European marketplace, with high class shops. Very clean, very posh. We were enjoying taking pictures and admiring the view.

Beautiful Jaffa

Tel Aviv city lights. 

                Then Dil asked, “Do you know what an erasure is?” We didn’t. He then explain that an erasure is a place that used to be populated by Palestinians, by Arabs, who were kicked out of their homes by force so Israel could build something nice and touristy there instead. Jaffa is an example of an erasure. The nice area in front of the Western Wall in Jerusalem is another example. It’s where Jews gather on Friday nights to dance and celebrate the Sabbath Day. Hundreds of Arab families evicted and homes demolished to make room for something Israel wanted. Sepphoris is another example. It used to be an Arab city, but Israel pushed them out and now it serves as an historical tourist site. You might have heard of an organization called the Jewish National Fund, the JNF. In the 90s, the JNF solicited for donations to grow trees and beautify the countryside. Although much of this money did go to planting trees, much of it also went into destroying Arab villages to create forests simply for aesthetic appeal. It can be more complicated that just Israelis pushing Arabs out. Sometimes, like in Jaffa, the Arabs benefit from the parks made too. Some may have lost their homes, but for some, it’s not the worst thing.

Beautiful Israeli countryside

Then there is a neighborhood in Jerusalem called Silwan. It’s right outside the Old City walls. When you are on a tour with a Jewish rightist, he will take you to this gorgeous excavation site where they are uncovering ancient Jewish ruins say “This is David’s City.” Then he will point across the street and say “and that is Silwan, an Arab ghetto.” But what he fails to say is Silwan and “David’s City” are one and the same. The old city of David is in Silwan, which has become a slum due to Israel’s ghettoization of it. Israel is using politics and withholding tax dollars being paid by everyone, including Arabs in Silwan, for schools and sanitation in an attempt to push Arabs out. Israel wants Silwan to dig up their ancient sites to further prove this land is theirs. They’re crafty in how they do it too. Their actions are completely legal, or at least probably are. But just because something is legal, doesn’t make it right. Pogroms were legal too. We entered Silwan and spoke with a woman attempting to run a school for Arab children. She spoke of some pretty horrible things the IDF does to the children of Silwan, but also how discouraging it is to try to raise good men and women in conditions where they receive no support. They are set up for failure. It’s the same story in our own slums and ghettos. Kids will drop out of school and join gangs and get involved in things generally frowned upon in society because they are out of options and they want to support their families. It was a little startling to see how universal that sociology is.

"My homeland is not a suitcase and I am no traveler." in Silwan

To be able to enter Israel as a tour group, you have to have a tour guide. Our tour guide was a Palestinian named Hassan, and he was so levelheaded. Let me tell you a brief anecdote on the kind of man Hassan was. We had a tour with a radical rightist Jew named Daniel, and during this tour, Daniel was extremely rude to Palestinians, with full knowledge of who Hassan was and that he was in our group. Daniel called all Palestinians violent dogs who are selfish and want all of Israel to themselves, intolerant of Jews and who all wreak havoc on the peaceful neighborhoods of Jewish people. He made fun of the Quran and claimed the only thing Palestinians care about are their 70 virgins in heaven. He was impeccably rude to Hassan. He was talking to us, the students, but he knew Hassan was there. He knew Hassan was Palestinian. And Hassan just took it in stride. He still made sure none of our group got lost in the tight Jerusalem streets. He helped a young woman in our group up when she tripped. When I asked him about it afterwards, he shrugged. He didn’t say anything bad about Daniel, even though Daniel had plenty negative to say about him. But we all loved Hassan. For someone who had so many reasons to be angry, he was very even-tempered.  He was always waiting for us on the tour bus, and was never late despite the checkpoints he undoubtedly had to go through to arrive at the Jerusalem Center where we stayed the last week. One morning, we found out that he had been awake all night because there had been an IDF raid in his neighborhood and there was shooting. But he did not complain once. We probably would not have found out it had happened at all had it not been for one of our professors drawing attention to it.

Saying goodbye to our awesome tour guide, Hassan.

Having a Palestinian as a tour guide allowed us to travel into cities labeled “A Zones.” In September of 1995, world leaders got together to try to get Palestine and Israel to agree (one of many attempts at establishing peace). Part of the accord was labeling different areas in the West Bank as A, B, or C Zones. A zones were controlled by the Palestinian Authority, B Zones have joint Israeli-Palestinian authority, and C zones have full civil and security control by Israel. Israelis are not allowed to cross into A zones. If it weren’t for Hassan, we would not have been able to get into these zones either. Some really important historical and biblical places are labeled as A Zones, like Jericho, Bethany, and Bethlehem. These Zones were set up to encourage a two-state solution between Israel and Palestine. Palestine couldn’t quite get on its feet. Its government had a lot of corruption and things to work through, so the agreement was that Israel would give it some aid until it could be a country again. However, over the years, this dream of a two-state solution has diminished. The likelihood is very slim, if not impossible at this point due to Jewish settlements. Radical Zionists began building settlements in C Zones illegally. Palestinians and the United Nations kept getting on Israel to stop allowing the settlements to be built and basically Israel would try half-heartedly to stop them: “Hey guys, you should stop doing that.” And then when they didn’t stop it, “oh alright. Here’s some running water and electricity.” Today, millions of dollars have been invested in these settlements, and there’s no way Israel is going to lose all that money and move their people out. Even though it is in direct violation of all their agreements to make peace with Palestine. Recently it has become even more evident that Israel has no intention of removing these illegal settlements.

We entered Israel from Jordan, and it was immediately evident how must more Westernized and clean and aesthetically appealing Israel is. This is probably intentional as Israel wants to be very distinguishable from Arab culture. It is much greener, the farms are made of neater, straighter lines. The equipment is newer and the countryside is more lush. Israel is beautiful. But the hospitality ends there. Israel just isn’t very friendly as a whole. The checkpoints are brutal. I am not a fan of 18-year-olds waving automatic rifles in my face as an intimidation tactic to keep us tourists in line. Tourists, I might add, who provide most of the economic stability Israel has. I also did not appreciate the woman on the street stopping us in the street and asking why we were traveling with him, while pointing a jeering thumb at Hassan. She stopped a couple of us just a few steps outside of the Muslim quarter of Jerusalem. She couldn’t tolerate a Palestinian even three paces outside of their cage.

                Probably the most emotional, challenging site of the trip was seeing the Separation Wall. I didn’t even know it existed until we were there, and it was difficult for me to control my emotions.  The Separation Wall was built by Israel to separate Jews from Palestinians. It does not abide by international peace agreements. It almost seems arbitrary, as it snakes nearly 700 km (450 miles) long. It is 8 meters high (about 26 feet) and in many places has barbwire on the Israeli side. It prevents Arabs from going to school, work or just visit friends who live on the other side of the fence. It sends a clear message. Arabs are not welcome in Israel. And we’re going to make your life hell to deter you from getting jobs and attending well-funded school until you leave.

Separation Wall, Bethlehem

                The specific place part of the Separation Wall we visited was in Bethlehem, and we saw it from both the Palestinian side. It’s like night and day. Slums on the Palestinian side, posh and white on the Jewish side. Political graffiti and stories have been posted on the Arab side. It breaks my heart that we live in a world where building up a wall is still considered a solution.

                It all falls around the very real, very valid existential concern that Jews have. This means there are Jews today who are very afraid that tomorrow they won’t exist. They are ferociously defensive because when they weren’t, they were persecuted. There’s this concept that’s come about in the 19^th century called the “New Jewish man,” a man who is strong and fights for his life and his family. It’s fierce and sheds all the worn threads of passivity. They will fight for a home, even if it means crushing an entire nationality to do so. Isn’t that the gruesome truth about how any nation came into being though? The United States certainly falls into this category with brutality towards Native Americans. Nation-building isn’t pretty. Israel is just arriving late to the game. The established countries of the world just got all their bloodshed out of the way hundreds of years ago.

                But there’s something deeply ironic about all this. Israel has put a lot of effort into placing themselves as the victims in this equation. Their holocaust museum, when compared with the Holocaust museum in Washington DC, is shows a people deeply wounded. A people crushed almost out of existence. And they were the victims for many hundreds of years. Here’s a description of the Warsaw Ghetto in Poland during WWII.

•  Jews were rounded up from the suburbs and herded into the city, into an area too small to contain them all
•  Jews were closed off to the outside world.
• The Warsaw Ghetto’s wall was typically about 10 feet tall and topped with barbed wire.
•  Escapees could be shot on sight.

Doesn’t this sound familiar? Is this exactly what the separation wall is doing? Isn’t this what the erasures have been? Why thousands of Arabs were herded into Nazareth so Israel could demolish their home to plant trees? Israel is still playing the victim to justify oppression of Palestinians. 
              What this all comes down to is basic playground psychology. Hurt people hurt people, and the Jewish people have not been healed from their generations of wounds. They are a bully in the park because they were bullied first. Violence is how they were taught to function, and when Palestinians respond in kind, they point fingers at them and say “Look, what barbarians they are.” It’s interesting to see how Israel can keep playing the victim while victimizing and dehumanizing the Palestinian people. They definitely have the upper hand in this conflict.

                This isn’t to say it is completely Israel’s fault. I truly believe there should be a safe place for Jews. They are a culture of their own, they have a unifying faith, and they are great in number. That sounds a whole lot like a people who deserve their own country. The Palestinian government was weaker than the unified, organized Israeli government. Palestine’s rulers were corrupt and the people divided. There are Palestinians who have grown up being beaten down both physically and psychologically, and to some, the only way to get attention that they need help is through violence. Again, kid stuff. When you start looking at politics as schoolchildren, motives become clearer. HAMAS, (pronounced Hum-Ahs, if you would, Ben Carson) is considered a terrorist organization, but they were willing to reach out to the Arabs in the ghettos. For example, they built a park in Silwan for the children there when the Israeli government wouldn’t fund one. So Palestinians voted HAMAS in because that’s where they saw help. It sounds crazy to us on the outside, but these people are desperate.

                All of this has come from fear. Jews rake Arabs out of their country because they’re scared of losing it. Palestinians are defined by those violent days of rampaging where you see horrendous videos of Jewish rabbis being mowed down by terrorists. Both Israelis and Palestinians see the other as stubborn and unrelenting. Both believe that if they give an inch, a mile will be taken from them. Both have firm reasons to believe this land is theirs. And they are both valid.  Jews might have been there first, but Palestinians (or the Ottomans) were there longer. Jews won the war, but does that give them the right to repeat the same cruelties that happened to them? Jews may argue that they are a Jewish state because Israel is made up of more Jews than Arabs, but that isn’t counting the Palestinians expelled from their homes who now live in Jordan. Palestinians in Jordan still consider themselves refugees, even though an entire generation has grown up in Jordan. 

                I don’t mean to leave out crucial details. I recognize that not all Palestinians are like Hassan. I know there are some who breed violence. But that’s the face the media portrays, and I figured we see enough of that. The news in the United States also makes it seem like Palestinians are always the stubborn ones in the peace talks, and that Israel is really cooperative. Well, the truth is, neither side really has been helpful 100% of the time. Israel has a tendency to be compliant only when it benefits them. They will talk about how the UN recognized them as a nation in 1948, therefore they are a valid country, but ignore the UN when they asked them to stop building settlements in the West Bank. It goes back to playground psychology. We listen to the authority that we like until we don’t like them anymore. And we throw tantrums and bully others until we get our way.

                I have heard people tell me that the situation in Israel will never get better. Not because we can see the situation is futile, but because it has been prophesied as such. Even if that is the case, (which, in my personal point of view, it is not the case) does that make it okay for us as Christians to sit back and look on at the challenges and struggles in that part of the world? Are we so far removed, with an ocean separating us, on our high horse of first world perspective and entertainment gluttony that we take a hands-off approach? When did Christ ever take a hands-off approach to anything? He could have. He could have seen that a lot of the world would never believe in Him, would never accept His sacrifice. So why bother? Because it was never about just one group of people as a whole. It was never about just the Jews or just the Gentiles or just the Muslims or just the white people or just the Europeans. It has always been, from the beginning of all things, about us as individuals. So even if we can help one person, one child come to peace in Israel/Palestine, that is worth it.

I don’t know what the answer is. I don’t have a solution, and the truth is, Palestinians and Israelis don’t want a solution from America. From the outside we can offer suggestions, but often those suggestions put some of their deepest beliefs in jeopardy. We are a young country with young problems. These are old cultures, in lands rich with hundreds and thousands of years of history.  There is a lot of pride to overcome in the conflict. In our class discussions, we would bring forward a lot of different suggestions that to us made perfect sense. Our professors would immediately poke holes in any suggestion we had. Or they would suggest bringing this idea to a rightist Jew or a Palestinian which would be immediately shot down.

O Jerusalem, by Greg Olson

Outside of Jerusalem, peace seems almost possible. We were given the opportunity to speak with a lot of people from the different areas we visited. Tel Aviv is pretty heavily populated by Jewish people, but mostly secular Jews. You don’t see a lot of skull caps there. The people we spoke with in Tel Aviv were pretty open to talking with and about Muslims. Nazareth was amazing. It was Vaughn’s favorite city to visit. There were Jews and Christians and Muslims all living really peacefully. When asked if they would prefer to live under Israel or Palestine, Arabs mostly responded by saying “Whoever allows us to provide for our families, we’d be happy with either.” But as soon as you enter Jerusalem, you are met with checkpoints and rifles and palpable tension. Jerusalem is the real issue. Neither Palestine nor Israel wants a country without it—and they won’t agree to allowing a third party to have control of Jerusalem. Luke 19:41 says that Jesus wept over Jerusalem. After my experience in Jerusalem, I don't think Christ was just mourning over the destruction soon to come. I think he was also seeing the violence in our day. I think he saw the frustration, the fear, and the hopelessness. He knew the hatred of the two sons of Abraham that would come to a cusp in the 20th century.    

     

                In my second blog post about this trip I spoke about the “holy envy” I felt seeing the Western Wall on Friday night. It’s a stupendous sight to see a groups of people so patriotic and excited about their country, their heritage, their holy places. They are so enthusiastic about their faith’s rituals, a people so victimized by pogroms (state-sanctioned violence) and apartheid and shut out of “welcoming” countries during their own refugee crisis. It was humanizing and joyful to see this same group happy. But also incredibly sad. This conflict is so devastating. It was a glad occasion to see both young and old dance in celebration of their holy places, but you can’t see this joy without knowing the ground upon which they dance was once a Palestinian home, demolished for such a celebration. I would love to see all groups of people to have a reason – and a place—to dance and celebrate like this. And if our personal celebrations encroach on the freedom of another group, then we need to evaluate our individual actions. And maybe, just maybe, if enough individuals consider this, progress will finally be made.