By Rev. Cherag Anna Less, PhD
Monday, December 17, 2018,
Ghassan Manasra, the International Director, and Abed Manasra, the Israeli Programs Manager, pick up my husband David Less and me in Tel Aviv and we drive towards the West Bank. We are headed to Bethlehem for an Interfaith Christmas celebration organized by Palestinian Director Mohamad Jamous and Abed.
Once we pass the graffiti covered wall that separates Israel from the West Bank, we enter the ancient streets of Bethlehem decorated with Christmas lights.
Night is approaching and the temperature is dropping. The streets are crowded with holiday shoppers and our car slows to a crawl as a cold rain begins to fall. As we drive slowly through the narrow stone streets, we can hear the familiar sounds of Christmas carols coming from the small shops we pass. The tunes are familiar, but I smile when I realize that the words are all in Arabic, a language most Westerners don’t associate with Christmas.
We drive to the parking lot of a restaurant on a hillside overlooking the twinkling lights of Bethlehem. As we stand taking in the view, I can’t help but hum the refrain of “Oh Little Town of Bethlehem”.
In my mind I think back to being six years old and sitting crowded together knee to knee with my school-mates in the hallways of our Canadian elementary school.
We had been told to sit cross-legged “like Indians” on the floors to sing Christmas carols for our Christmas assembly.
While we sat “like Indians” on the floor I could almost feel my feathered headdress as we imagined ourselves transplanted to Bethlehem and sang songs like “Silent Night”, “We Three Kings,” and “The Little Drummer Boy”.
When I was six years old I thought Bethlehem was a mythical place that existed in some other mystical dimension. Years later, when I was a young adult, I realized that Bethlehem was a real town that still exists and I had always wanted to visit it at Christmas time.
So here I am! As I stand looking out at the twinkling lights, I find myself looking into the night sky for a special star, and then across the valley I search for remnants of camels and wise men and a crèche complete with shepherds. Instead I realize I am standing in a muddy parking lot, with a dirty cement mixer and piles of dry cement. I am looking at a border wall covered with graffiti, and watch towers with armed soldiers. I am forced to consider that only 2% of the residents in the region are Christians, and many of them fear that as their children seek education and futures in other countries, Christianity is in danger of becoming extinct in the land of its birth.
I pray that somehow the Abrahamic Reunion’s interfaith programs will help support the continuation of religious diversity in this region.
As we step over puddles and head through the cold drizzling rain towards the entrance of the restaurant, Ghassan leans over and proudly tells me that the chef where we are about to celebrate the Abrahamic Reunion’s interfaith Christmas event is one of the best cooks in the region, and he cooked for the Pope when he visited Bethlehem.
The dining room overlooking the valley is lined with long tables with over one hundred place settings. There is a large decorated Christmas tree and young men are setting up tall portable gas heaters. A band is setting up on the stage, and Mohamad Jamous is focused on an Abrahamic Reunion power point he has been preparing for the evening. When he looks up we immediately recognize his distress. “What is going on?” we ask, and he explains, “Just as I was leaving my house to come here, the security forces came and took my brother. I thought they were coming to take me again and I thought, Oh my God what will I do if they take me? What will happen to tonight’s program?”
Just two months ago, Mohamad Jamous had spent two nights in jail being questioned about his interfaith activities. Interfaith activities that in the West we experience as interesting, educational, and fun can be seen very differently here.
When we ask Mohamad why his brother has been arrested he says, “We don’t know. I have to finish our program here. Then I will go to the police station and try and figure out what is happening and see if I can help him.”
We sit in our seats soberly absorbing the stress he is under as he oversees the final touches of tonight’s event. I realize that only three weeks ago Mohamad was at the Parliament of World’s Religions in Toronto, freely celebrating one of the largest interfaith events in the world, and I consider the many reasons that young Palestinian youth are trying to leave the region.
As the excited guests begin to arrive, we force ourselves to shift our focus to them.
Muslim families and Christian families take pictures of one another with the Christmas tree and pose with Christmas decorations.
The band begins to play and both Muslim and Christian families begin to sing Christmas carols in Arabic and jump up to join hands and line dance between the tables.
There are over one hundred people in the room when Ehap al-Tel and Yakov al Kahen from the Samaritan community in Mount Gerizim arrive and shake our hands.
Samaritans believe they are descendants of the Northern Israelite tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh (two sons of Joseph). They believe that they preserved the true religion of the ancient Israelites when they remained in Israel when the southern Israelite tribes were taken into exile in Babylon (modern day Iraq) in 722 BCE. They see Judaism as a related but altered religion, brought back by Jews who returned from the Babylonian captivity.
Most people in the West have heard of Samaritans because of the Parable of the Good Samaritan in the New Testament.
Suddenly, one of the Samaritan elders notices my husband’s earlobes, and leans in closer to examine them. He rubs my husband’s earlobes between his fingers, and calls over the other Samaritan elder to join in the examination. They gather around my husband and as they continue to study his ears, they agree that he is one of their descendants. They explain that only Samaritans have these earlobes and therefore he must also be descended from them. As they take their seats I look at their earlobes and try to see if anyone else in the room besides my husband has ears like them. I realize that although there are over 100 people in the room I cannot see any one else with earlobes like theirs, and for the next several days I am obsessed with trying to find anyone with similar earlobes.
Samaritanism shrank significantly in the wake of bloody suppression and forced conversion to Christianity under the Byzantines, and during Ottoman rule conversion to Islam. Currently the Samaritan community has less than 300 members and in an effort to prevent complete extinction, the men have been marrying and converting Ukrainian women with Jewish ancestry to Samaritanism. I wonder how long their unique earlobes will survive.
As I try to figure out how my husband’s own Jewish Ukrainian ancestors may be connected to this ancient Samaritan tribe, Mykola and Tatiana walk into this unusual gathering. We all met Mykola and Tatiana at the Parliament of World’s Religions in Toronto just a few weeks ago. When they heard about the Abrahamic Reunion’s work in the Holy Land they decided to come and experience it for themselves. Mykola and Tatiana are also from the Ukraine. When they sit down at our table next to our Samaritan guests and begin to chat together with them, one of the Samaritan men suddenly realizes Tatiana is from the same Ukrainian town as his wife! They immediately begin to make plans for them to visit the Samaritan village to meet the other Ukrainian Samaritan women from Tatiana’s home village. The multiple synchronicities coming together on this unusual evening have become even greater.
Amazing food is served and Ghassan takes to the stage to introduce the Abrahamic Reunion’s guest speakers, Sheikh Maher Assaf and Father Issa Thalgia who are both from Bethlehem.
Both the sheikh and the priest offer speeches reminding participants that for centuries it was common for neighbors of different religions in Palestine to join in one another’s religious festivals. They pledge to continue these multifaith celebrations in the future as the guests cheer and clap their hands.
Mykola is the next speaker, and he explains that until 1991 when he was about 20 years old, he had never heard the word “religion” because he had grown up under a communist regime in the Ukraine. He explained that later, after the fall of the Soviet Union, many people in his region reconnected with their Orthodox Christian heritage, but with that also came the general belief that other religions were evil. Mykola went on to explain that only a few years ago he and his wife took a vacation in Turkey and he over came his fear and resistance about entering a mosque, only to experience a peace that he did not expect to find. That life changing experience led him to realize the great need for people to experience one another’s spiritual traditions as a way of working for world peace. Since then he has dedicated his life to interfaith work.
David and I also welcome our guests and thank them all for coming. As our speeches end, Mohamad enters the room ringing a hand bell. He is followed by others ringing bells and dancing down the center aisle. They are escorting in Santa Claus, who with his long white beard and red suit, enters the center of the room dancing and whirling and ringing a bell. The guests rise, clapping their extended hands and yodeling in traditional Palestinian style.
Muslim women wearing hijabs and holding children in their arms gather around Santa Claus to have their pictures taken. Christian and Muslim families exchange cards and talk about how they can connect in various ways.
As the night ends, we all agree that it was an incredible success and we congratulate Mohamad and Abed on a job well done.
As Mohamad packs up his power point projector, we hug him and tell him to let us know what is happening with his brother, and we begin the two hour drive to Abed’s home in Nazareth.
Two days later, we learn Mohamad’s brother has been freed, but still no one knows why he was taken that night.
Rev. Cherag Anna Less, PhD
Co-Founder & Executive Director
anna@abrahamicreunion.org
