Can a Palestinian Love Israel?

Meet Sam, who has grown up in a Palestinian refugee camp in Lebanon. He grew up hating Christians and Jews alike. His goal in life was to become an Imam and to kill Christians and Jews, until a fatal meeting on the street.

A man came up to him and offered a drink of water. Sam was surprised, it was the first time in his 19 years that someone had offered him, a Palestinian, water. He accepted and after some conversation the man told Sam that he reads the Quran. Sam had a beard and wore a white robe that showed everyone he was a serious Muslim. The stranger continued, “since I am reading your holy book, would you read mine?”

After some time Sam agreed and started to read the Bible. He read the Bible for a year and a half until he was convinced this was the truth. He decided to start following the way of Jesus, even though he had a price to pay. His brothers promised to kill him and so Sam had to move away and live in hiding.

Sam met with other believers and started to grow in his faith. He went to Cyprus to attend a Christian conference where he met a few Jesus-believing Jews from Israel. “You’re a Palestinian and you believe in Jesus!? We’re from Israel and we follow Jesus too!” They apologized for how their people had wronged Sam’s people and proceeded to wash Sam’s feet.

This event changed everything for Sam. His heart that had hated Israel and the Jews melted and was filled with love towards his neighbors. Today he tells his story with tears pouring down his cheeks and bursts into a Hebrew worship song.

Mideast peace? It is only possible through reconciliation in Jesus.

Dreams Aren’t For the Hopeless

I recently visited a Palestinian refugee camp. Faras took us through the narrow alleys that run between the concrete blocks – the temporary homes of thousands. Temporary means decades here.  19-year-old Faras cannot read. He was probably taken out of school very early on, so that he could start earning money for the family. He has a job now as a driver for Fatah, one of the Palestinian parties.

I asked him what his dreams were. He clicked his tongue and lifted his chin to express a firm negative. He didn’t have any dreams.

Surviving would be his main goal in life. Having a source of income, being in good terms with his family, trying to be a good Muslim, finding a decent girl and having a few laughs in between the wars, would be a good start. When your people are a political pawn to be bargained with, you can’t be certain of much else.

To be able to dream you need hope. If nothing seems to ever change,  what’s the point? The heartbreaking fact is that millions  wake up today with nothing to hope for, without dreams. Even this simple thing is the luxury of the rich.