A new world rises out of the ashes

by Sarah-Leah Pimentel · August 17, 2014

In the barrage of reporting on the conflict in Gaza over the last few weeks, one moment remains etched in my mind.

Nuns light candles spelling �peace� in Arabic in front of the altar in St Catherine church, Bethlehem. (Photo: Debbie Hill/CNS)

It was July 27. The Israeli authorities and Hamas had agreed to a 24-hour humanitarian window to allow the Palestinians to go out and buy groceries, bury the dead, see what was left of their homes.

Just two hours into the ceasefire, Hamas fired a missile into Israel, which prompted an immediate retaliation. The result�many people were caught in the crossfire.

Al Jazeera interviewed a father and his two children who had returned home to pack a few belongings. The father explained how an explosion tore through their house and his wife was killed.

Visibly shaken by the recollection, he puts his head down in sorrow and his daughter�no more than 12 or 13�takes up the narrative of how she watched her mother die. Just before she breaks down, consumed with the anguish of realisation that whatever remnant of normality was possible in a community ravaged by war is forever gone, she asks: �But what did we do, for them to do this to us?�

This question, accompanied by her heart-rending grief of helplessness, stayed with me all week.

What did we do? What did they do? I don�t want to dwell on who is right and who is wrong. Both sides have legitimate grievances but the litany of accusations and justifications are ineffectual in finding a lasting solution. We won�t find any mustard seeds in the debris of broken agreements and lives.

Instead, another question haunted me this week. What do we do? Yes, us. Catholics living miles away in a little corner of Africa so far removed from these very real human dramas?

Many of us possibly can�t deal with the images and the devastation of human life, responding simply by turning off the TV and focusing on more pleasant things. Some of us may be watching these events with a keener interest because a part of our religious DNA is connected to this place, this Holy Land, where our Lord walked and preached, laughed and wept, died and rose again.

And we feel angry, because this is the birthplace of our faith and some small part of us feels that an injustice has been committed against us as well.

Or perhaps you�re a little like me, a sceptic who has spent far too long mulling humanity�s inhumanity to man in the name of some perceived difference. Against a backdrop of cynicism which understands that every peace is merely a truce until the next confrontation, my first response was to say: we will not see a resolution to this conflict in our lifetimes.

Fortunately, I have some very wise friends who changed my perspective by asking me to consider this human drama in a different light.

Drawing on the wisdom of Fr Joseph Kentenich�the founder of the Schoenstatt Movement who similarly watched his homeland, Germany, and most of Europe being destroyed during World War II�she explained that sometimes an old world must die so that a new world can be born. The death throes of the old and the birth pangs of the new are so traumatic that surely something beautiful will rise from the ashes.

As I was grappling to understand what she meant by this, another friend said to me: It is only when there is nothing else that can possibly be done from a human standpoint that God steps in and works miracles. When we admit our powerlessness, God manifests his glory, his love, his grace.

I now understand what was being said to me. With our human abilities we try to fix things, but sometimes do more harm than good. But when, in humility we turn towards God and we acknowledge that we are weak, that we don�t know what else to do, that our efforts seem to bring about the same poor results, then we open the door for God�s grace.

We need to allow our pride and our selfishness to be destroyed so that a new world can rise from the ashes. As Christians, we know that Christ first needed to die before he could earn for us the gift of eternal salvation.

In this light, I now see Pope Francis� meeting and prayers with the Israeli and Palestinian presidents in a very different light. Two weeks ago, I was tempted to see it as a failed effort of Vatican diplomacy. Now I believe the Holy Father had a moment of prophetic vision during his visit to the Holy Land and saw a new land being born.

But he saw also that this new land is not one of our making. Only God can lead us into this new promised land. And to do this, he needs willing human cooperators.

The prayers by Pope Francis and the two presidents were a public act, each in the language of their faith. But more importantly, they were an acknowledgement that alone, they will not find a solution. I believe they were earnest when they asked our common Father Yahweh/Allah/God to work that miracle of peace.

Again I ask: What do we do? What is our response? To the conflict in Israel/Gaza, Iraq, Ukraine, DRC, Somalia, Nigeria? What is our response to the conflicts and impossible situations of our own lives?

Instead of watching helplessly, we can add our prayer, trustfully asking that stone-cold hearts be transformed before more innocent human lives are lost.