I can hardly imagine what's it like to have your neighborhood shelled.
I can hardly imagine what's it's like to have loved one's and neighbors killed by rockets.
I can hardly imagine what it's like to live under a persistent threat of violence and destruction.
I can hardly imagine what it's like to live in a place where neighbors are at war.
I can hardly imagine a solution to the whole bloody mess.
But,
I can imagine what it's like to be angry with a neighbor and wanting to take revenge.
The details of my incident really are unimportant. It's the common interior experience I'm interested in. As soon as we feel wronged, it's so easy for us to enter into the myopia of vengeance.
It's amazing how our minds can simmer and plot, coming up with all kinds of ways to hurt those we feel hurt by.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not comparing the the small kinds of first-world suffering I go through with my neighbor, or other people who have been outright jerks to me in the past, with the long historical acrimony and suffering of those in Gaza or Israel. But I can recognize that I am prone to that same condition of the heart that wants to settle a perceived injustice.
It's so easy to pick a side, decide who's wrong and who's right, and see one side's actions as justified. It's so tempting to see one group of people as evil and the other as good; to fit the world back in our simple categories.
It feels so natural, so right to get payback, and then to go a little further to make sure they won't mess with you ever again. It's the logic of escalating violence: we think we're defending ourselves.
But it's lie. Whenever we act in violence towards another, it doesn't defend us, it strips us of our humanity. For whatever gains we perceive ourselves to have made in our "protection" of our selves, our land, our people, our principles, - we have lost something much more. Jesus says "what does it profit a person if they gain the whole world but lose their soul?" I think we could extend it to say "what does it profit a person if they protect their whole world but in the process of trying to secure things lose their soul?"
I once heard the Dali Lama say that he felt a great sadness for the Chinese occupiers of Tibet because their actions had cost them much more than anything he had lost by being exiled. He explained that the occupiers, by clinging to violence, hatred, and oppression had harmed themselves far more than he himself could ever be harmed by having to live away from home.
So as I prayed this morning I was tempted to despair about Gaza. What can be done?
But as I write this I realize that the perhaps small but profound thing I can do is to forgive and not take vengeance on my neighbor, or anyone who does me wrong. If I give in to my urge to get payback, I am merely perpetuating the same conditions that lead to violence throughout our world.
I cannot with integrity pray for peace elsewhere, but hold hatred and vengeance in my own heart.
So I lament your losses Gaza and Israel. My heart is moved by your suffering and pain, and by the sheer terror that has come to dominate your lives.
But even more I lament the loss of your humanity as your powerful leaders unleash these atrocities in the name of self-defense.
I don't judge your actions, I lament them, because I know that I am equally capable of participating in such warfare given the state of my heart. And as I lament, I will try today not to add to the suffering of the world by seeking vengeance in my own life.
In the words of the old song, "let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me".
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