Gifts in ridiculous packaging

December 2005

David Ball
Photo © Wolf Kutnahorsky

Sometimes life gives us gifts sent in ridiculous packaging, writes songwriter Dar Williams, and this Christmas that is certainly true. Since my last letter, my placement in Beirut has been a tumultuous chain of blessings and challenges.

As many of you know, I am serving the World Student Christian Federation (WSCF) in the Middle East, as we strive to cross the religious divides facing much of the region.

One such blessing was receiving a Christmas card from a woman I had never met before. "Don't worry if you don't remember how you know me," she wrote. "You don't." Every year, this United Church senior sends cards to overseas personnel at Christmas, a time when many of us are apart from our families.

As far as I remember, this is only the second time I have been away from home during this season. I remember: "We are not alone."

Another challenge: in late November, world news struck home in a very personal way. I learned that only hours from here, in Baghdad, four Christian human rights workers were kidnapped by militants and are still missing. Their demand: the release of thousands of Iraqis detained in American jails, many of them without charges or evidence.

One of the four members of Christian Peacemaker Teams, Jim Loney, is a personal friend of mine from Toronto, and the news broke my heart. Hostages are always other people; these were allies of the Iraqi people who went to support their freedom struggle. Jim is someone with immense faith in Jesus' nonviolence; he lives and breathes it.

As of writing, the four aid workers, who oppose the U.S. invasion and occupation of Iraq, are disappeared and their whereabouts unknown, despite widespread calls from Muslim activists worldwide for their release.

Yes, this has been immensely painful for all of us who know Christian Peacemaker Teams. But the gift from this has been learning more about their humility, courage, and radical faith—that they went to Iraq, knowing the risk, to live with the Iraqi people and listen to their stories.

Meanwhile, another friend of mine is in neighbouring Palestine, with a youth-led organization opposing the Israeli occupation and its tragic effects on Palestinians. As I hear his stories—stories of escorting children to school through a gauntlet of taunts and insults from settlers, and of being arrested merely for supporting elderly olive farmers on their own land—I am reminded that David and I cannot reunite for Christmas because of the borders that scar this land and keep us apart.

It is a sobering lesson. There are millions of Palestinians who fled to Lebanon following their displacement by Israel in 1948; a few years ago, Israel allowed access to the Lebanese side of the border and thousands of Palestinians reached hands, passed letters, and caressed babies through the miles of barbwire, desperate for contact with their disparate families. The border, however, was soon closed.

I think the biggest gift this Christmas has been knowing more clearly that Christmas is not about stable traditions or even Turkey dinner; it is about Jesus becoming human—an oppressed, poor, carpenter human—to bring hope where there is despair, even when there seems little use for optimism.

As members of the church—the global body of Christ—we are all called to incarnate Jesus into our lives. Whether that is passing an infant across a sorrowful, razor-sharp divide, or sending a card wishing well to someone we have never met, these are gifts I will never forget.

I wish you a hopeful Christmas and Eid Mubarak (blessed holiday).

Thank you for supporting our work here, and walking with me on my journey. Please continue to pray for the Middle East, and in particular

• for the four members of Christian Peacemaker Teams—Jim, Harmeet, Norman and Tom—and for Iraqi prisoners and Iraqi families who alike suffer under occupation and war

• for peace in Lebanon, particularly after the December assassination of anti-Syrian newspaperman Gibran Tueni, the most recent in a chain of killings

• for the worldwide church to become united as a voice for the poor and suffering, and to be a servant of the oppressed