February Update

It's a Saturday night and I'm sitting here alone on the most comfortable couch in my neighbor's living room. A tray of tea ready to be made sits on the coffee table, surrounded with copies of "Maternity Today" and a gigantic candle. This is the site of my beloved homegroup on Tuesday evenings. Tonight though, I am babysitting for my friends as they go out and enjoy some important time together.

Living in New Haven has been full of these wonderful surprises and opportunities. Today even, my roommate and I took a long walk in our neighborhood, saying hi to people we passed, talking about boys, our jobs, and horses. It was finally a warm enough day to take a stroll. Later, we went to an African drumming and dance class that my roommate has been attending. It whipped my arse, but I was grateful for the outlet and for meeting new people.

My other roommate is attending a retreat we are hosting for Deerfield Academy; a school that has a strong Christian fellowship, but with students desiring to go deeper in their faith. I'm not attending because they desired more students and less staff; something I am not offended by at all.

FOCUS has seemed really random as of late - where I must plan everything every week, be hyper-intentional about the time I give to students, and try to drive safely (something unsuccessful accomplished, as I got into a small fender-bender of my own doing this past week). However, ministry continues to be a strange blessing. Even last night, it seemed strange to travel with my staffmate after a dinner at Chili's to attend a school play at a girl's boarding school in the middle-of-nowhere Connecticut. However, after the play, the student we came to support beamed with joy when she saw us, as did another student we met up with during the intermission. This high school actress' parents also applauded us in a way we didn't expect. They had done high school ministry in their younger years and looked at us with compassion and deep gratefulness for the work we are doing. We wanted to say to them, "Really, you don't understand how little we do." But we let it rest and offered up silent prayers to God that He could understand our bizarre lives and gratefulness that only He could reach these students through us, even if we feel like we don't do much.

In other news, God continues to wash sweet balms of healing and understanding upon me as I process experiences from South Africa, the West Bank and other places. In a book I read last year by Henri Nouwen called "Compassion," he describes how the monstrocities of this world can only be understood, prayed for, and responded to through the healing and constructive work of people in community. As I pray about the future and where God might take me, it gives me great encouragement to know that often God places us in places of community for our own healing and other's, and that He desires us to live this way the rest of our lives.

In conclusion, I'm incredibly grateful for this season, but continue to offer prayers for healing, for perspective on my life, and for boldness to step where He may be leading me.

In the words of my Guinean drum and dance instructors this evening, "C'est tout! Merci!"

The Evolving Church: Amidst the Powers Commercial

This conference, hosted by friend Chris who I worked in the West Bank with, will deal with social justice and Christianty. Toronto, March 21st. Should be freakin' awesome.

Depoliticizing

As I sat in an apartment on the Upper East Side of New York City last weekend, I began to understand that I need a new approach as I unravel this past year. With Gaza reeling in the aftermath of war, I would be seething in anger at moments, but proud to hold back emotion at others. Something was clearly wrong and I had been praying for a breakthrough. Two have come.


The first was a sermon by R.J. (a FOCUS alum) in his house-church in NYC. As he spoke on suffering, I realized that I need boldness to step into the depths of the pain I saw and take off much of the Palestinian versus Israeli lens which has clouded my vision, and see how Christ speaks to the human suffering I saw and experienced. Easier said than done. However, this encouragement was vital. It is the way out.


Secondly, I'm befriending an Israeli. She's stood at interesting crossroads and lives a story of redemption. Born in communist U.S.S.R., lived in Israel; a Jew, became a Christian at Yale, now Eastern Orthodox. She entered the threshold of my homegroup two weeks ago and I held back a gasp - one of relief that at present someone in the room could understand eastern orthodoxy (a road my family is traveling), and secondly that God could coordinate something so ghastly ironic. This homegroup - such a place of healing for me from my experiences abroad now embraces someone who's political persuasion deep down contains something vastly different from my own.
It seems that God is teaching me something.

None of this is easy, but if I am to take the words of Scripture seriously, the words which say of Christ, he was "a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering," (Is 53:3) - then I know I am steered rightly, and I will learn much by traveling this way.

Some thoughts from a Friend who also lived in Birzeit

A friend of mine was in Birzeit this past semester doing, in essence, the same kind of work I was doing a year ago. We maintain correspondance to encourage one another and to keep one another adrift of how our dear friends are doing there.

Here is a piece she recently wrote in response to the happenings in Gaza and Israel.

T: "Why is Israel bombing Gaza?! Why isn't the US saying ANYTHING?! What is going to happen? Are people going to sustain their response until Israel stops or are thing simply going to return to apathy and anger? When will Israel stop, when everyone in Gaza is dead? What difference will Obama make? What will happen in Israel and Palestin's elections? Why do people hate? Who does Livni think she is? In fact, who does Rice think she is? Where did she get her information? What good will the protests accross the world do? What is going to happen?"

Y: "I don't know."

Y: "We are the ones who are trying to make a difference! What does it mean that all I can think of is going up to one of the Israelis or Americans or reporters and smacking them accross the face?! I mean seriously, we're the ones who can speak to all sides, but what can we do when no one is listening!?!"

T: "One of the hardest things for me in watching the news is that I know that my people in the States aren't seeing the same things I'm seeing. Somehow their image of the Middle East is so scewed that they don't see the injustice going on, they don't see how their tax-dollars and moral support is contributing to mass murder. Somehow they don't see Gaza suffering, they just see Israeli fear. Somehow they don't see Palestinians, they just see terrorists."

T: "I feel a hatred that I've kept bottled up inside of me for so long. What can I do when I hear that three children from one family were killed? I mean seriously, half of Gaza is under the age of 14 and it is the most densely populated land-masses in the world...when you bomb there, you end up bombing children. It's sick how it's being justified. But despite this, I don't believe in violence. I don't want this to be an anger rant from another Arab. I want to communicate that as frustrated as I am, I believe things can change. And those changes are not going to come by burning an American flag or an Israeli flag or by throwing rocks. Im frustrated at both sides. I understand that Hamas is angry and wants to retaliate but I just want to say: DO NOT call for suicide terror! I will not agree with that. No. At the same time, I can't preach peace when in my own heart there is so much hatred. I have to deal with that before I can influence other people. Non-violence needs to be something that you live and breath, and right now it's not something that I can live and breathe."

T: "There are so many things standing in our way. The obstacles are seemingly insurmountable. From disunity among both the Israeli and Palestinian non-violence movements, factionalism, the media, the US, Christian Zionism...AAAH. Where do we even begin?"

V: "I feel so powerless. I can't do anything about what's going on!"

T: "Yes you can, don't rob yourself of that. In a world that is rapidly spirling into darkness, hatred, and war, you can speak into that and show people how to love!"

Y: "Well, ok. I know that I can do some things, but I can't do the one thing I want to."

T: "What's that?"

Y: "Make the bombing stop."

T: "Yeah."

Y: (In response to my question: If you could communicate one thing to my American friends, what would it be?)"If I knew what it would take to stop the killing, I would beg Americans to do it. I would say write to your President, but that doesn't help. Do you call for a boycott? What do you boycott? You can tell people in the Middle East to boycott the American products...but what will that do??! You can write your your Senators but, again, what will that do?! If you could demonstrate, that would be great, but be careful and don't do it out of hate. Protest, demonstrate, DO something. But I'm not sure if anything will actually make a difference. I guess the most important thing I would tell you is to educate yourself, watch the news from different perspectives, and evalute it...imagine people in the statistics, imagine yourself there. I'm not going to tell you which side to go on but I want you to educate yourselves and make your own decision...and then DO something. The entire world is watching this and the entire world is frustrated but they can't make a difference. Africa's doing stuff, Asia is doing stuff, Russia is doing stuff (People are getting arrested in RUSSIA for us!)...but will any of it come to anything? I don't know. But again, I don't want to tell you what side to take. Just educate yourself. And care.

T: "It's not even about sides. I hate using that word because, well, I'm on people's side. No, actually, I'm on God's side. Whatever that means."

Most of the time I can't even articulate a question. The hole inside of my chest is so painful that all I can utter is a strangled cry of frustration. What else is there to say? When it's the end of the day and bombs are still falling, people are still crying, and the Palestinians in Gaza are still not living life the way it's meant to be lived, what else is there to say? How do we live into the answer when the questions are so blastedly painful?

I made tea with a friend this evening. She stood in the middle of her kitchen, closed her eyes, and spoke through clenched teeth: "I can't do anything." I responded, calmly, "pray." She ignored me and rationally, carefully, went through all of the reasons she is helpless, powerless, and, therefore, hopeless. I repeatedly uttered the calm refrain: "pray." This is a hard word. It seems heartless and can often betray apathy, condescension, dismissal, and a clear lack of action. But it can also be a freeing word because prayer (or rather, contemplation) frees us to live into the reality of the Kingdom of God. Surrendering to God the things of the world frees us to actually love the world instead of be enslaved by it. Accepting God's love allows us to be freed from the guilt of having failed to love as we ought to of and to be empowered to love with a love that is not our own. If I could speak one word into people's lives, especially during this time of darkness, I would say "pray."

"When we pay careful attention to the loving presence of God, the suffering to which we might be led will never darken our hearts or paralyze our movements... When we are led by love instead of driven by fear, we can enter the places of greatest darkness and pain and experience in a unique way the power of God's care. Jesus' final words to Peter are the strongest affirmation of this truth. After having asked Peter three times, 'Do you love me?' and after having been assured three times by Peter of his love, Jesus said, 'When you grow old you will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt around you and take you where you would rather not go' (John 21:18). Although Peter did not desire it, he was led to the cross as Jesus was. But because it was love and not fear that led him there, the cross was no longer a sign of defeat, but a sign of victory" (Nouwen, Compassion).

This passage speaks of a world we have entered into--a world of darkness--but it also provides us with something to say and something to do when words and actions betray their meangingless. When we can no longer do anything or say anything productive or useful, when we come to the end of ourselves, when we can do nothing but scream, nothing but clench our fist in hopeless despair...all we need to do is look up and whisper, "Yes, I love you." This is enough. Because there is a God who is bent tenderly over the broken world, gently, powerfully, loving it.

The world is shifting. And it's a hard thing to see God's love. Especially when we look at what's going on in places like Gaza (and the DRC, Sri Lanka, Pakistan, Iraq...etc.). But it's there. I promise. All you need to do is respond to it. Love God's people with the love He's given to you. Allow His freedom to free you from worldly things like "security," "vengence," "terrorism," and "fear." Read the news, watch the images, and pray for the people of Israel, the West Bank, and Gaza, who are in desperate need of people to rise up and care. Do what you can to stop the violence.

As I head to Ivoryton..

I'm about to head to Ivoryton, CT for a week-long camp with high schoolers from independent schools across the east coast, but I saw this headline this morning: "Israel launches airstrikes on Gaza, 155 dead." The escalating violence that Gaza and Israel has witnessed is too much. Israel squeezed Gaza into a humanitarian crisis, and now it does this? This airstrike will only cause more rockets to flow into Israel, not less.

I remember when the last major airstrike happened less than a year ago. I was headed to church with some Norwegian friends of mine, crossing through downtown Ramallah, when we were stopped in our tracks by protesting children - in solidarity for the many children killed over the weekend in Gaza. On our way back from church, as we crossed a checkpoint, the smell of burning tires and the sound of Israeli soldier's "preventive" bullets filled the air.

This airstrike will only cause more death and violence. Though I studied political science and spent close to half a year in Palestine I know I could be the last one to advise what to do. All I ask for is prayers for the many that are suffering, that the Christians I know living there would not be overwhelmed, and that God would have mercy on this region and on my friends who live there. (these are pictures taken recently of some of them).

Title Change

I just changed the title of my blog. I'd been playing around with different title names, and landed on this - I'm pretty much settled in Connecticut now for the time being, and also am no longer currently learning Arabic (however I would jump at the chance to do so again). "Fadi" is a word I continue to hold dear. It means REDEEMER - and that is definitely a theme that I clung to over this past year. I renamed my blog GRACE UPON GRACE not only after John 1:16, but because it sums up many things we discuss in my homegroup. We began the year discussing how we need God's grace for various things - for reflection, for processing, for thinking ahead for our future (everyone in our group is a former "missionary" of some sort). We also discussed how God gives us His grace to lead us into different stations in life. When I think about it - there's no way I could pick up and move to the West Bank right now (even though I'd LOVE to) - however a year ago, God's grace gave me the fullness to go ahead and do the work He'd set out for me to do, and provided everything that was needed - including physical and spiritual support. His grace also provided for me to come on staff with FOCUS this past summer. It's definitely a mystery how this works, but I continue to see this grace clearly at work to lead and sustain.

P.S. The picture was taken after an ice storm that hit upstate NY when I was up at the Emma Willard school for a visit.

Psalm 12

(As taken from Patrick Henry Reardon's "Christ in the Psalms," pp. 23, 24)

The idea is now common that the primary purpose of speech is communication, the sharing of ideas, impressions, and feelings with one another. Language is currently considered to be, first of all, social and therefore completely subject to social control. Human speech is widely interpreted as a matter of arbitrary and accepted fashion, subject to the same vagaries as any other fashion. Thus, the senses of words can be changed at will, different meanings being imposed by the same sorts of forces that determine whether other tastes happen to be in vogue. Words become alterable as hemlines and hats.

According to this view, words are necessarily taken to mean whatever the present living members of a society say that they mean, so that the study of language really becomes a branch of sociology. In fact, sociology textbooks themselves make this claim explicitly. Moreover, this notion of speech is so taken for granted nowadays as to nearly assume the rank of a self-evident principle. Nonetheless, it is deeply erroneous.

It is also egregiously dangerous to spiritual and mental health, for such a view of language dissolves the relationship of speech to the perception of truth, rendering man the lord of language without affirming the magisterial claims of truth over man. Declared independent of such claims, language sumbits to no tribunal higher than arbitrary social dictates. Human society, no matter how sinful and deceived, is named the final authority over speech, which is responsible only to those who use it, subject to no standards above the merely social. That is to say, in this view words must mean what people determine them to mean, especically such people as cultural engineers, political activists, feminist reformers, news commentators, talk-show hosts, and other professionals who make their living by fudging the truth.

This current notion of language was well formulated in the declaration of the proud and rebellious in Psalm 11 (Hebrew 12), in a passage manifestly portending the mendacious times in which we live: 'With our tongue we will prevail. Our lips are our own; who is lord over us?'

How different is the view of the Bible, where speech is not regarded, first and foremost, as a form of communication among human beings. In fact, Adam was already talking before ever Eve appeared. Human speech, that is to say, appears in Holy Scripture, earlier than the creation of the second human being, for we find Adam already naming the animals prior to the arrival of the marvelous creature that God later formed from his rib.

At the beginning, before the Fall, Man was possessed of an accurate perception into reality. He was able to name the animals because he could perceive precisely what they were. His words expressed true insight, a ravishing gaze at glory, a contemplation of real forms, so that the very structure and composition of his mind took on the seal and assumed the formal stamp of truth. Human language then was a reflection of that divine light with which heaven and earth are full. The speech of unfallen man was but the voice of vision.

This primeval human language, the pure progeny of lustrous discernment, flowed already forth from the lips of Adam prior to the creation of Eve, who heard it for the first time when her husband, awakening from his mystic sleep, identified her and told her exactly who she was: 'You are bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh.' Human speech was already rooted in the vision of truth before it became the expression of human communication.

Moreover, the Fall itself, when it came, derived from that demonic disassociation of speech from truth that we call a Lie: 'You will not surely die.' Eve's acquiesence in that first lie was mankind's original act of metaphysical rebellion. It had more to do with the garbling of Babel than with the garden of Eden. It was human language's first declaration of independence: 'Our lips are our own; who is lord over us?'

Just as truthful speech streams forth from vision, springing from the font of a pure heart, so lying is conceived in the duplicitous heart before it issues from the mouth. Says Psalm 12: 'Each one has spoken follies to his neighbor, deceitful lips have spoken with a divided heart.' The situation described here is so bad that one despairs of finding any truths left in human discourse: 'Save me, O God, for the godly man has disappeared, because truths are diminished among the sons of men.... The wicked prowl on every side."

In contrast to these varied, seemingly universal lies of men stand the reliable words of God: 'The words of the Lord are pure words, smelted silver purged of dross, purified seven times.' In this very unveracious world we yet trust that, though heaven and earth pass away, His words will never pass away.

(Fr. Patrick Henry Reardon is pastor of All Saints Antiochian Orthodox Church in Chicago, Illinois, and a Senior Editor of Touchstone: A Journal of Mere Christianity.)