Hey, tribe.
Yesterday morning I woke to an extraordinary note in my Facebook inbox. I read it over and over. It filled my heart with its simple humanity and goodwill.
It was from a woman I’ll call K. She and I have known each other for a very long time. We haven’t corresponded since the war began, though I’ve wondered what she might be thinking on many different occasions. I’ll admit I feared the worst. She’s very progressive – (as, of course, am I, no matter how many people insist that Zionism and progressive politics are mutually exclusive) – as well as Muslim and Black, and very intensive efforts have been waged by the anti-Israel camp to sell Black Americans the idea that their struggles in America are analogous to the Palestinian struggle with Israel.
It’s ironic that so many progressives, who consider western-centrism a cardinal sin, insist on viewing a conflict unfolding in the Middle East through a western-centric lens. Israel has committed her own sins, to be sure, but they are not America’s sins in any way, shape or form. There’s no resemblance between America’s relationship with her Black community, historically or today, and Israel’s relationship with the Palestinians, regardless of the far left’s attempt to draw a straight line from one to the other.
In any event, K. has given me permission to share her message to me. This is what it said:
Good morning. I know this is a terrible time for you. I am praying for you and yours. As a recent (since Covid) convert to Islam, I don't understand much about Palestine but I know that Hamas can't solve it. As a non-Jew, I can't speak to Zionism. But I can speak to you and say I know your heart. I know you by your good works. I pray for a peaceful situation for Jews and Muslims but I really can't imagine what that looks like. In any event, I am impressed with your true commitment to justice for all. I pray that your efforts create awareness and positive change.
BTW, my spiritual life is full of confusion so maybe you understand. For example, you know that my being a staunch advocate for LGBTQIA+ rights puts me in direct opposition to what Muslims & Christians are supposed to believe. I know in my heart that my desire for us ALL to have human rights is not wrong.
I also know all the ignorant things that people are saying about the Jewish and Islamic communities right now are false. I am tired of the virtue signaling. From one artist to another, one humanist to another, from one Mama to another, can you help me make sense of Palestine? And what I can say to others from the vantage point of a Black American Muslim who wants peace? The other sticky wicket is that, as you may know, many Arabic/Pakastani (non Black) Muslims don't like Black people. They don't fellowship with us at the Masjid. I sometimes feel politely tolerated. I don't know where I fit in. Is there a side that gives all parties a positive outcome?
It’s surely a reflection of our societal extremism that such an honest, searching, human missive struck me as so remarkable. That it felt like one of the most healing messages I’ve received in 9 months. The simple fact of a friend saying, Though there is an ancient enmity between your people and the people I’ve joined, I know your heart, I know your goodness, I know this is a terribly difficult time and my prayers are with you: this felt like manna in the desert. The simple fact of her confessing, I’ve chosen this path, but sometimes I’m daunted by the ways it feels contradictory to my values, and by the ways it feels less than welcoming: this felt like an oasis in a parched and arid place.
From one artist to another, one humanist to another, one Mama to another, can you help me make sense of this? I don’t know the last time I was asked such a moving question.
Why can’t more of us do this? Why is it so hard to say: this is a situation I don’t understand, and it pains me to bear witness to such terrible suffering, but I know your heart and I know you’re hurting too, so is there a way you can help me make sense of what I’m looking at?
Why can’t more of us acknowledge the complexities of our own alignments?
Why can’t we acknowledge the humanity of the people across an often contrived divide?
Why is it so hard to be heartbroken for more than one group of people at the same time?
I was so affected by the conversation that followed and by her final words to me within it.
I’d promised to send her info and told her what a balm her message had been. After a few more messages back and forth, she left me with this:
Please share all the information. I promise to try to digest it and share it to speak truth to power. As a DEIJ professional, it behooves me to not go around bashing Jewish folks for no reason. Especially when I have friends whom I consider family. I want for them what I'd like for myself. A place to exist without fear.
Unfortunately, I don't believe I will live to see it.
I know what she means by that last statement. But in fact, every time we create these spaces of goodwill and humanity between us, we are building that place ourselves. There might not be a utopian square mile on this earth, but there are spaces we can create between ourselves and other people – places in which fear recedes in the face of open-heartedness, emotional generosity and empathy.
As we go into Shabbat, it’s my wish that her words will feel as healing to all of you as they did to me. They allowed me to hope that there are more people like her than we know. As always, our attention is drawn, over and over, to the most visible and vocal – the ones who are posturing and preening and screaming on our screens and in the streets. I’m daring to hope they’re not the majority.
And I’m inspired to strive for a way of moving through the world that more closely resembles hers.
So much love to you all. I wish you a restful and restorative Sabbath.
Shabbat shalom.
Am Yisrael Chai.
Thank you for sharing this. This is a voice of humility in ignorance; yet, profound empathy, vulnerability, courage and trust in loving relationships. Where are all the emotionally intelligent people like K? Let’s find as many as we can!
Thank you for sharing this beautiful piece, in time for Shabbat.