Seeds of peace

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The articles above are published in the May 2009 issue of Living City.

Stories from Arab Christians in Gaza

Muslim neighbors, Israeli troops

My name is Arij. I’m married, with three children, and I live in Gaza. I first came to know the Focolare Movement’s ideal of unity 31 years ago, when I was young. It made me realize that God is love, and that he loves me and everyone else with a love that is personal. This mind-blowing realization gave me a great desire to return God’s immense love by loving everyone I met with a love that was as close as possible to God’s love for us. My mother shared this desire with me, and together we got to learn more and more about the spirit that animates the movement. Soon others joined, and now there is a little group of Christians in Gaza who try to shape their lives in the light of the spirituality of love.

The war that has just ended was very hard. It gave me a chance to open my heart to everyone, especially my Muslim neighbors who were very scared. We barely knew each other before the war, but this seemed like a time for extraordinary love, and my children and I made a commitment to help them with all sorts of concrete acts of attention and kindness.

There was this two-year-old boy. Every time there was a bombing he’d go completely stiff, as if he was dead. I started taking him to my house, to play with him and distract him, and slowly these horrible panic attacks eased up. Another neighbor is an elderly Muslim woman who lives alone. During the bombings I’d invite her into my home, I’d eat with her, I’d try to soothe her. This really struck her, and she is still thanking us.

Once I went to visit a woman who had lost her son and her house to the war. She had nothing left; it was heartbreaking. A Focolare friend and I prayed to God that he would touch her with his love and his presence. What could I do?

One night, during a bombing, my daughter and I put together some clothes and other items I thought we could do without; we prepared a thermos full of hot tea. Then we got in the car and brought them to her. It was scary, but the peace we felt inside was stronger than the fear.

One day someone I knew from the Focolare phoned me because Israeli troops were nearing her house. She was crying with fear. That day had been a particularly hard day, even by the standards of that war. Someone was thought to be hiding in her house; she, her daughter and her sister had to leave before the house was torn down. As I said, it was a bad day, and I was scared for myself and my family. Yet I felt that a love without measure required me to set aside my own fear. I got on the phone and called various organizations that helped people evacuate their homes. No one could do anything. I called the Focolare center to share my discomfort, and together we asked God to protect this family. It was an act of faith in God’s power to help when all our resources were exhausted. The following day I learned that this family had made it safely out of their home in spite of the bombing.

When the Israeli troops entered Gaza it was very scary, and I often felt on the verge of panic. In those moments it gave me great peace to call other people of the Focolare.

We realized that the soldiers, too, were people we must love with all our hearts. Many were very young and looked scared. I talked to my family about it, and after some back and forth they agreed. Whenever there was a bombing we’d get together and pray for all those who took part in this war, that God might guide their consciences.

There were many occasions like the ones I’ve recounted. I stayed focused on keeping violence, hatred and injustice out of my heart, and on loving each person, since all are created in God’s image and likeness. This got me through: people were touched by the love I strove to give them, and my heart invariably found peace and serenity and the joy of a constantly renewed belief that God loves each one of us equally.

Wartime spirituality

My name is Hala, and I live in Gaza. Eighteen years ago I attended a meeting in which the Word of Life was being discussed. On that occasion it was a sentence from Ecclesiastes, “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” Someone narrated the origins of the Focolare Movement during World War II, and that really struck me. I developed a new rapport with God that grew and matured as I endeavored to live the words of the Scriptures, beginning anew each time I failed to love others.

I work in a school in Gaza, but during the war classes stopped. I kept focused on seeking the will of God in the present moment and looking for occasions to love others. To me the war felt like a repetition of Chiara Lubich’s experience at the beginning of the movement. We felt the same way she felt, that “everything passes” and God alone remains.

Near my house there was a United Nations school that hosted 2,000 refugees. Things were dangerous, but I put my trust in God and went over there to bring a few things for the refugees. This brought them a lot of happiness and, I believe, a sense of God’s love for them. The Gospel says, “Whatever you ask the Father in my name he will give you” (Jn 16:23). These people needed everything, and they asked us for things that were impossible to find. One day a woman asked me for water to cook for her children. I was really pained to have to tell her that I had none. I asked God for water. Water was delivered soon after. This happened all the time. There was a woman whose house had been destroyed in a bombing. She lived with her father-in-law, but it was a temporary arrangement. We asked God for help. A short time later someone offered her an apartment.

Sometimes things evolved in ways I could not have imagined. A woman had lost her husband and three of her children when a school had been bombed, and had been left alone with her younger children. I didn’t want her to feel abandoned so I brought her something. She was immensely touched. She said, “You are like that; you are Christians. I feel as if you were my mother.” This really moved me. From that day she started coming over with things for me to distribute to others, and I realized once again that the Gospel’s promise is true.

It is difficult for me to convey in words the power of this whole experience. I feel that Chiara is with me, that she looks at me from heaven and gives me the strength to love and begin anew each time, even when there is pain, fear, despair, abandonment, and anxiety. Thanks to all of you for your prayers for peace in this land and everywhere. You give us hope.

These two stories were shared in Jerusalem at the Focolare-sponsored Jewish-Christian Symposium in February.