Jews and Muslims, Together, Praying for Rain

Last summer was long and hot, not to mention memorable for the extreme water shortages we dealt with for the entire time.  Then, when the winter rainy season came--such as it is in Jordan--and it began with very limited precipitation, special times of prayer for rain were organized across the country.  The situation was similarly dire across the river in Israel/Palestine, and special times of prayer for rain were organized there too.  I mention all this because I came across this photo from last November online today.  It features Muslims and Jews praying for rain--together--in a village outside of Bethlehem.  And it made me smile.  Yes, there is definitely a lot of anger and hatred in the region, but many people are willing to come together and live peacefully with those they are supposed to hate; enmity is not the end of the story.  I know this first hand, but it's good to be reminded.

Jordanian Shade

This was written several years ago, but in honor of summer finally hitting Minnesota, we thought we'd post it again, with a few changes.

All summer here in Amman the temperature has hovered around 90 degrees with occasional forays into the 100s. It is hot, dry and dusty, and many people--if they can--avoid the mid-day heat and simply stay inside. However, because the humidity is not always very high, if you are outside, it is possible to get a decent respite from the heat by walking or resting under the shade of a building, a tree--really, whatever you can find. Yes, it is hot, but finding that elusive shade really can make a big difference in your level of comfort.

Of course many of the stories in the Bible are set in a climate like this, and in my mind the Jordanian heat brings those passages to life. In Genesis, for example, one story has Abraham sitting in his tent "in the heat of the day." When three men come to visit him, he tells them to rest under a tree. These are small details, but because of our time in Jordan I can imagine the afternoon heat experienced by Abraham, as well as the good shade from the heat that the tent and the tree would provide. Also, there is the story of Jonah, who after preaching to the people of Nineveh--a city in what is now northern Iraq, not all that far from us here--left and built himself a little shelter outside the city. It was apparently quite hot, so God raised up a bush to provide shade for Jonah, and to "save him from his discomfort." The next day, though, God caused the bush to die, and Jonah lost his shade. As a result, he became so hot and frustrated that he grew "faint and asked that he might die." Jonah was so hot that he lost his will to live.

Now, I've never been so hot that I wished I were dead, but again, because of our time in Jordan I can imagine how Jonah felt. I think I've felt like that while riding on a windowless bus in the Jordan Valley, the temperature outside of over 100 degrees causing those of us inside to bake, my khaki pants--not shorts, because men must dress modestly too--clinging to the sweat on my legs. I think I've felt like that while walking near the Jordan River, the hot breeze beating down on us like we had just opened a hot oven and all the mighty power of the sun seemingly focused on the straight, naked, part in my hair on the top of my head. I know I've felt like that while trudging Amman for a taxi in the midday summer heat: the streets choked with cars and traffic barely moving, exhaust fumes combining with dust to choke away what's left of the "fresh" air there, a backpack and long pants--modesty, again--serving to cover my body in a sweaty film of claustrophobia, and every taxi maddeningly occupied. Through these--and other--experiences, I can imagine why Jonah was so upset that he lost his shade.

So, as I said, shade can make a big difference, and it is this shade--a shade that can save you from devastating heat--that is good to think about when looking at the imagery used in other parts of the Bible. For instance, Psalm 121 calls God "your shade at your right hand," and Isaiah 25 calls God "a shade from the heat." When I read this, I remember how the other day--when I was outside walking in the heat of the day--I moved immediately into the shadow of a building as soon as I noticed it, how I sought the shade from the heat it would give me. Shade works, and I suppose it is my quick jump into this shade in the heat of a summer day that the various biblical writers had in mind when they referred to God as shade. Like the building, like Jonah's bush, like Abraham's tent, God makes the heat we experience more bearable.

Thoughts on the Revolution

In the time since our last post, we left Jordan to spend Christmas back in Minnesota, then spent a month in Vancouver, Canada visiting family there, then returned to Minnesota, where we will be for several more months before resuming our lives in Jordan.  Also in the time since that last post--perhaps you've heard--some major changes have taken place in the region we call home.  The governments of Tunisia and Egypt have fallen, protesters continue to march for change in Bahrain, Yemen, Syria and even Jordan and a civil war rages in Libya.  No matter how the situations in these countries play out, the Middle East we return to will be much different than the one we left.

And so, since everyone here asks me what I think about all this... here is what I think.

On February 11, 2011, at around six o'clock in the evening in Egpyt, Egyptian Vice-President Omar Suleiman announced the resignation of President Hosni Mubarak after 18 days of massive protests, ending his nearly 30 years of iron-fisted control over the country.  Soon after, hundreds of thousands of people began ecstatically celebrating on the streets of Cairo, Alexandria and other cities across Egypt.  At around the same time, at about ten o'clock in the morning in Minneapolis, I was parking my car on the street near our old apartment, on my way to a favorite coffee shop, having just heard the news of Mubarak's resignation on NPR.  Soon after, I was still in the car.  Instead of stepping out to go drink coffee, I stayed and listened, dumbfounded because just the day before Mubarak said he was staying, stunned that this Middle Eastern institution was gone, and happy.  Happy for the Egyptians I knew whose futures suddenly seemed ripe with possibility, happy because living in Jordan helped me to envision as I sat there the joy of throngs of smiling Arabs, not just in Egypt, but around the region.  Happy because the people had won, and won with class.

I have discovered since then, though, that not everyone here in America is so happy about all of this.  Far from being a cause for celebration, the fall of Mubarak--and the many other similar revolts in the region--have been a cause of fear and consternation in some corners.  Oh, I've seen some reports which conveyed what I thought was an appropriate sense of the historic and life changing nature of these revolts--especially during the height of the situation in Egypt--but I also saw many other reports that seemed to view them as almost entirely negative.  Perhaps naively, this has surprised--and disappointed--me.  

On the extreme end of this negativity is what can only be called the "Doomsday Crowd."  These people look at what has happened in the region and see not potentially changed lives, but literally world-ending danger.  One example of these doomsdayers is Dennis Prager, a conservative radio personality who listed what he called "eight good reasons" for pessimism regarding the revolution in Egypt.  These included the possibility of a worse dictator or regime taking Mubarak's place, the historical lack of political and economic freedom in Egypt and the potential of Egypt's increased friendship with Iran.  Another is soon to be former Fox News personality Glenn Beck, who spent weeks detailing on his chalkboards how he believed the revolutions were part of a coordinated, global plot of various nefarious left-wing organizations to take over the world.  Conservative radio host Rush Limbaugh believed the same, saying that the protests in Egypt were the result of something called "classic community organizing."  "And, folks, they're all leftists.  They're feminists. They're avowed socialist, leftist, communists, environmentalists," he said.  "I don't believe that this is just spontaneity. I think this is classic.  This is rent-a-mob.  I don't doubt that there are genuine grievances felt by some of the people in this group, but this is not a spontaneous, gee, nobody knew this was coming moment.  This is the result of organizing.  This is just classic community organizing in Egypt."  If you click on the link above, you'll see that he also expressed anger towards some in the media for reporting with amazement that an amazing event had just taken place.  I remember listening to it--I was in the car again--and being taken aback at the level of his anger.  Finally, there is Fox News host Sean Hannity, who feared the revolt in Egypt may be the beginning of World War III.  Doomsday was at hand.

On the kinder, gentler side of this negativity--but negative nonetheless--is what could be called the "What It Means For America" crowd.  These kinds of reports again focused not on the potential for positive change for people in Egypt, but instead on the potential for negative change for people in the United States.  In other words, these reports turned a story ostensibly about Egyptians and turned it instead into a story about Americans. For example, a headline from CBS Money Watch put the issue bluntly: "What the Egyptian Protests Mean for Your Money."  According to Carla Fried, author of the article, the situation in Egypt had caused U.S. investors to ask the "logical question" of "what impact it all might have on their financial lives."  Being the Middle East, there were also, of course, many stories having to do with the impact of the revolutions on American gas prices.  This angle is captured succinctly in the headline of a story written by Darren Goode of politico.com: "Egypt's Unrest Sparks Fears About Oil."  

Another example of the What It Means For America mentality is the concern that the United States would lose a great ally in Mubarak, with the potential that his replacement wouldn't be so friendly to American interests.  An article in USA Today asked "Could the U.S. lose a critical ally in the Middle East?"  A release by Daniel L. Byman, Senior Fellow at the Brookings Institution think tank on the risks of democracy in Egypt framed the issue with striking honesty: "while deposing Mubarak is clearly what is best for the Egyptian people," he said, "for the United States it is far more problematic."  In the days before Mubarak resigned, Limbaugh actually hoped that he would be able to withstand the calls for change.  "We need to be rooting for Mubarak," he said, "if you are concerned about U.S. national interests."  In what is to me a truly confusing angle to take on this situation, some reporting showed concern that the revolts would spread to other nations in the region.  This would, I guess, be the opposite of the reporting that Limbaugh decried above.  The same above USA Today article, for instance, asked if there was a risk "that revolt in Egypt will spread to Persian Gulf countries."  A risk for who?  Finally, numerous reports focused on what the revolt in Egypt meant for Israel--an important question for U.S. interests because we are such strong allies.  No link is necessary here; just Google "Egypt, Israel, Unrest" for links as numerous as the sand of the sea.

Now, it's not as if I believe that Egypt is going to magically transform into a beautiful democracy by next week, next year or even five years from now.  There will be difficulties, there will be challenges, no doubt; people may suffer in the process.  It is also possible that some of the problems raised by the Doomsdayers may come to pass.  It may happen, for instance, that a leader worse than Mubarak comes to power.  It may happen that all these changes bring only chaos.  I am not denying that whatever happens next in Egypt--or elsewhere in the region--could be rough.  What I am denying, though, is the placement of these revolts within some sort of sinister plot led by the kinds of groups that the Doomsdayers just happen to despise.  I am also denying that theses revolts will bring only chaos, as if that is the only possible result.  I am hopeful they bring the changes that Egyptians and others in the region are longing for.  Plus, I've been to Egypt and live next door in Jordan; from my experience, a revolution led by environmentalists and feminists wouldn't get very far.  Rush is right about one thing, though; ousting Mubarak did take some organizing.  However, my major problem with the Doomsdayers is that they just seem so mad about it all.

As far as the What It Means For America crowd is concerned, those kinds of reports just seem to me to be so self-centered.  Egyptians are trying to win their freedom?  What about my money?  What about gas prices?  What about our American interests?  How will it affect me?  How will my life be changed?  These concerns turn the focus from Egyptians to us, and make us forget what is really at stake.  Along with the Doomsdayers, they make us afraid.

As I said, though, I'm happy.  Mubarak ruled his country with an iron fist for 30 years, violently suppressing dissent and free speech, casually allowing corruption to overtake government and society and enriching his pockets.  And to top it off, the country is dirt poor; 40 percent of Egyptians live on two dollars or less per day.  He was a tyrant, disallowing basic freedoms and opportunities in order to maintain his grip on power, in order to maintain stability.  But the people got rid of him.  They got rid of Tunisia's corrupt president too, and hardly a shot was fired in either case.

Let's let these people have their moment.  Let's try to be happy for them.  It's not about our politics or our fears; it's about them.  It's about their freedom.  I am not afraid.  I invite you not to be too.