As the conflict in the Holy Land continues unabated, what is our responsibility and capacity to be neighbour, to get involved, to speak up, to give alms, asks Congregational Leader Sister Catherine McCahill.
If there is among you anyone in need, a member of your community in any of your towns within the land that the Lord your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbour. You should rather open your hand, willingly lending enough to meet the need, whatever it may be … Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbour in your land.’ (Deuteronomy 15:7-8,11)
I often read these words from the First (Old) Testament as they are in the four weekly cycle of readings in the Good Samaritan Sisters’ Book of Hours.
I am not an adherent or student of the Islamic faith, but I am aware of some of the Qur’an’s teaching on being neighbour.
On such example occurs in Surah an-Nisa Ayat:
Worship Allah and associate nothing with Him, and to parents do good, and to relatives, orphans, the needy, the near neighbour, the neighbour farther away, the companion at your side, the traveller, and those whom your right hands possess. Indeed, Allah does not like those who are self-deluding and boastful. (4:36 Qur’an)
These days, in the context of so much conflict in the land of the Jews, Christians and Muslims, the Holy Land, I wonder how the Jews, Muslims and Christians of Gaza, the West Bank and Israel read and interpret these sacred texts.
Can they or we relativise them? Dismiss the stark command of the Lord or Allah under the guise of this is not really what is intended, or today’s situation is different? Or, ‘they’ started this war, and we are only defending ourselves. Or, we are the victim here and the other side will not listen? Or, this is ethnic cleansing? Or, they have a superpower on their side, so we are doomed?
Most of the world is watching on the sidelines while countless women, men and children die or are severely wounded, and thousands await the release of innocent hostages. As we watch, what are our thoughts and comments?
Perhaps, we are impartial, disinterested or confused? Perhaps, we have decided between the righteous and unrighteous, between the ‘real’ victims and the perpetrators of violence. Perhaps, we wring our hands and wish that someone, somewhere would bring the warring parties to the table and make a truce.
From a safe distance in Australia, it would be easy to become immune to the daily tragedy in the Gaza Strip. We could easily, and perhaps necessarily, shield ourselves from the unfathomable horror of hostage-taking, the bombing of hospitals, schools and places of worship, of starving children and rampant disease.
The problem is enormous, and perhaps we are unsure of our responsibility and capacity to be neighbour, to get involved, to speak up, to give alms. The issues are complex and embedded deep in the history of the peoples. It is difficult to comprehend this multi-faceted conflict. For me to suggest any real long-term solution would be naïve.
The texts and the conflictual context challenge me to search deeply into my own heart. Where are the battle lines? Where are the unresolved conflicts in my personal, congregational and professional life? How am I being neighbour now, where I am and in my context?
I believe most of us know how easy it is to participate in the polarisation of our communities, our families, our congregations, our faith communities, our nations and our global communities. It can seem easier to take a position on one side or the other, aggregate with like-minded individuals rather than to engage in dialogue. It takes courage and patience to stay in the middle between the polarities of politics, ideologies, spiritualities, ecclesiologies, and other viewpoints.
Standing in the middle place, akin to the point of the crossfire, we can take our time to consider both sides, to engage in dialogue and to become neighbour to both sides. We might even be able to invite those in polarised positions to shift, to move towards the centre.
As I pray with my ancient and holy text, I am challenged not to become “hard-hearted”. I know that I can only call myself neighbour when I am attentive to all in my community, those whose viewpoint aligns with my own and those whose viewpoint does not.
I want to be neighbour because, fundamentally, along with all those who read these texts, I know that we come from the same God, the one who creates us to live and flourish on this earth.
