Palestinian Echoes: Cross-Checking the news with Biblical Wisdom

On a chilly autumn night, as the days grew colder and the nights stretched longer, I found myself cocooned on my couch, embracing the warmth of a blanket and the flickering candlelight. It was a night that mirrored the turning of seasons, a moment pregnant with symbolism. The autumn leaves, on the cusp of falling, whispered a poignant truth – the inevitability of change, of the old making way for the new. In their final moments, they carried a weighty message, reminding me of the urgency that hung in the air.

Returning to my pen after a two-year hiatus, the urgency within me mirrored the urgency of the autumn wind, whispering through the trees. The weather, delaying military actions in Gaza, became a metaphor for my own mission – to write and to save. My words, once halted by fear, were now fueled by a profound sense of responsibility. The fear of remaining silent, of not acting before the last leaf of autumn fell, overshadowed any personal apprehension. In this moment, my life and security seemed inconsequential compared to the lives hanging in the balance, lives that could still be rescued.

In this profound introspection, I felt a divine calling to narrate a story that transcends the political tumult of our time. The ancient verses of the Tanach murmured timeless wisdom, echoing through the ages. They revealed a truth that resonated deeply: genuine strength does not stem from human might, but from unwavering faith. As the Israeli-Palestinian conflict cast its ominous shadow, I sensed a plea, not of anger, but of profound understanding, unity, and an ardent yearning for enduring peace. This plea was more than a mere cry in the dark; it was a divine message that transcended the chaos of human discord, illuminating the path toward a harmonious resolution.

A Lesson from David and Goliath: Faith Over Might

In the flickering candlelight, I found myself submerged in the depths of the news, examining the grim realities that had unfolded in Gaza. The death toll, a staggering number that had climbed to 4000, with 1500 souls still entangled under the ruins, weighed heavily on my heart. These weren’t just statistics; they were lives, families shattered, and dreams extinguished. The echoes of Itamar Ben Gvir’s callous words lingered, a chilling reminder of the brutality obscured behind political agendas.

Amidst the cacophony of anger and despair that permeated social media and conversations with friends, I felt a deep understanding of the collective frustration. I, too, wrestled with these emotions, acknowledging the depth of our shared grief. Yet, in the midst of this turmoil, a profound realization washed over me. I contemplated the divine perspective, recognizing that God, too, had witnessed the anguish of humanity throughout history.

In this moment of introspection, I questioned the nature of our actions and the calls for action. Had our responses truly been Godly? In the face of overwhelming pain, were our choices reflective of the divine compassion that had cradled civilizations through their darkest hours? As I grappled with these thoughts, I sought a higher understanding, aiming to channel the divine empathy into our human responses, searching for a way forward imbued with wisdom and grace.

Yet, even in my contemplation, I couldn’t ignore the additional layers of tragedy that had unfolded. Beyond the borders, nearly 1500 Israelis had also met their untimely fate, forever lost to the world. Among the chaos, 200 hostages remained at risk, their lives hanging precariously in the balance. The enormity of loss on both sides emphasized the urgent need for a resolution, not just for the lives that had already perished but also for those teetering on the edge of uncertainty.

In the face of such immense human suffering, I clung to the ancient wisdom that whispered through the ages. I pondered the lessons of empathy, compassion, and understanding found in the sacred texts. Could we, in our pursuit of justice, find a way to extend these divine virtues to every soul involved? It was a question that lingered, inviting reflection, and challenging our very understanding of humanity’s capacity for grace and forgiveness.

The Old Colonials in New Suits

In the quiet dance of firelight, I reflected on the recent haunting tales from the Middle East. Gaza’s peaceful refuge, an Anglican church-owned hospital, was ripped apart by a devastating explosion, claiming lives, while accusations between Palestine and Israel echoed through the chaos. Amidst this tragedy, international voices clamored for a ceasefire, yet the drums of war persisted.

Turning to Proverbs (Proverbs 3:3-4), I sought wisdom. In the face of dissent, Josh Paul resigned, unable to reconcile with unwavering support for Israel. The United States and the UK bolstered their military presence, reinforcing alliances, while diplomacy faltered. A proposed ceasefire was met with rejection, leaving the United Nations Security Council paralyzed. Amidst this, the European Parliament whispered of de-escalation, a fragile plea in a world gripped by violence.

A call from behind the wall

The segregation wall Beyond its physical stature, it symbolized the invisible barriers within us – biases, indifference, and selective recognition.

The sacred verses rejected such divisions. Deuteronomy (Deuteronomy 10:17-19) reminded us of divine impartiality, questioning our actions that perpetuated segregation and ignored the cries of the oppressed. This wasn’t a plea for equality but a call to align our deeds with divine teachings.

Examining these events as a non-Jew, non-Israeli, I sensed impurity not from evil but from our collective failure to embrace compassion. The scriptures didn’t advocate blind allegiance to a state; they urged a state of the heart, where recognition transcended boundaries, empathy dissolved walls, and love conquered hate.

This challenge resonated universally. It urged us to assess our reactions, words, and beliefs in the face of injustice. Amidst the whispers of autumn winds through those walls’ cracks, a reminder echoed: reassess, reflect, and align our hearts with a divine wisdom devoid of divisions.

Reflecting on Social media reflections

Who embodies God’s people? (Isaiah 56:6-7) reveals truth: God’s people, beyond borders, embrace justice, mercy, and humility. Chosen are those living justly and compassionately, seeing the divine spark in all.

Amid news of political callousness, where leaders ignore cries for justice, scriptures reflect divine principles versus human actions. A challenge: Do our reactions align with Tanach’s wisdom amid news and social media?

Reflecting on awaiting the Messiah, recent events shift perspective. Idolizing politics over the divine warns against misplaced trust (Isaiah 2:22). Will hearts, entangled in politics, recognize the Messiah? The Tanach warns of misunderstanding His purpose, risking crucifixion again.

Waiting isn’t just physical; it’s spiritual readiness. Cultivate hearts guided by love, justice, and compassion. Amid turmoil, true calling means embodying these virtues, recognizing shared humanity, and awaiting the Messiah with hearts tuned to justice, transcending politics for a world of peace.

Better than a Persian carpet

Amidst the ruins of Gaza, Israel’s Defense Minister, Galant, chillingly told troops they would soon see Gaza from within—a city once vibrant, reduced to rubble, including its historic landmarks like the highest building, bustling markets, and Al Rimal neighborhood. The erasure extended beyond buildings to people, with international leaders avoiding the terms Palestinians or Palestine, reducing them to generic labels. This echoes the disturbing sentiment expressed by 95-year-old Ezra Yakhin(Ex- Lehi member), calling for wiping out Palestinian names and memory.( the same phrase used to name Jesus as Yeshu).

The unfolding tragedy raises unsettling questions: Is this part of a larger plan, reminiscent of ancient Jewish persecution in Egypt? Are we witnessing a systematic, universal effort to obliterate an entire nation through censorship, the rejection of ceasefire proposals, and escalating violence? The death toll has soared to 4000, with an estimated 1500 people still trapped beneath the wreckage. Israeli extremist Itamar Ben Gvir advocates supplying Gaza with more missiles. I am aware Israel competing to overcome Iran in Intellegence, Military, but I’ve never thought they are competing over Persian carpets as Israel Carpet bombing Gaza.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s misquotation of 1st Samuel 2, seeking glory for Israel instead of the God of Israel, reflects a dangerous trend toward idolizing political entities. This folly, akin to the pride of Saul in the biblical narrative, invites peril. The crucial question looms: Will Israel choose humility akin to David or embrace the flawed strength of Saul?

This dire situation serves as a wake-up call for those who retain their sanity. As Ecclesiastes wisely notes, there is a time for war and a time for peace. Let us fervently hope that the time for peace has not slipped away entirely. The tears in the eyes of a young Palestinian man, whose life experiences stand in stark contrast to the leaders in power, underscore the profound urgency of the moment.