In my hotel room, there coexist a sabbath clock and a prayer rug--a very concrete and tangible reminder that coexistence is possible. Last night we had dinner at a restaurant that several years ago had been blown up by a suicide bomber--a woman headed to a hospital to do the deed. She got as far as the restaurant and blew up herself and others, including the daughter of the owners. They had been involved with Hands of Peace and were committed to the approach espoused to work toward peaceful resolution of the conflict. Their resolve was shaken by their loss and in their great grief, but the outpouring of love and support and compassion of the Hands alums and their families led them to the same perspective and commitment that Aziz shared with us in Jerusalem: hate and fear and violence and retaliation solve not a thing and only make a bad situation worse. So last night in a rebuilt restaurant close to the sea the Hands of Peace alums and their parents and our delegation which includes host families broke bread together and gathered in small groups after dinner to converse with each other and build or build on relationships.
It was such a hope-in-our-hearts filled evening--even as rocket fire increases from the Gaza into Siderot where we visited only days ago; when the Israel government is strengthening its nuclear capability and saber rattling at Iran; and when our own country cut off funding from UNESCO because Palestine was admitted to membership and is considering imposing sanctions on the Palestinian Authority--an action that would cause even more pain and suffering to people who have endured for so many years. I keep hearing in my mind the psalmist's words, "how long, O Lord, how long?"
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