On the theme of generosity, and thoughts of Gaza

In order to practice generosity – our theme this month – we have to feel abundant. As with most feelings, we don’t have 100% control. But I invite you in this moment to choose to direct your attention to what is abundant. Find abundance in your reality or imagination. 

Are you sitting somewhere quiet, with silence or the calm sounds of home? Are you watching the breeze flutter the leaves outside, or petting a soft cat or dog? Is your belly full? Are you rested? If you’d like, you can imagine the sanctuary at UUFM — right now it is probably empty and peaceful, overlooking our beloved grandparent tree. Or imagine the space on Sunday morning during a moment of silence, full of gentle souls breathing softly. Imagine being in nature, far from the whooshing cars and chatter of neighbors.

If you can, actually pause for a moment to find abundance before continuing.

From this place of abundance, ask yourself, “What can I offer?”

Perhaps an idea pops into your head about something you can do for a neighbor, friend, or family member. Perhaps what you feel most strongly is gratitude – so say thank you out loud! Offering gratitude generously counts. What else do you have to offer? 

Perhaps nothing comes to mind. In this case, perhaps your call is to give generously to yourself. Do you need more time to sit in peace? Do you need basics, like food, water, sleep, a sweater?

Perhaps this practice gives you the heebie jeebies or even makes you angry or defensive. That’s ok. It’s hard to trust the call to practice generosity because it so often comes from oppressive forces in our society or appeals to our guilt. In order to practice generosity we have to feel abundant, but our society is built on scarcity. It’s hard to tap into abundance if you are angry about injustice or scared about getting your basic physical or emotional needs met. One of the most tragic features of our society is the fear of scarcity that afflicts even those of us who have found comfort and stability. Anxiety is not a character flaw; it’s a predictable outcome of an isolated and isolating society without a safety net and an economy that values us based on our productivity.

In order to build the world we dream of, though, we have to calm our nervous systems enough to practice generosity. We have to tap into abundance. I believe it’s always there, but I don’t fault anyone for losing touch.

And here I pivot to thoughts about the violence in Gaza and Israel. Grief and fear, together, make it next to impossible to access abundance and practice generosity, particularly for survivors of trauma, and particularly when conditions remain unsafe. Since the 1930s and arguably for much longer, Jewish people have been traumatized by the threat of genocide and Palestinians have been traumatized by violent occupation. European antisemitism not only persecuted and killed Jews but pushed refugees and survivors off the continent. This undergirded violent Zionist claims to land already occupied by other people. Now, the trauma of the nakba remains active in the Palestinian community, and the trauma of the Holocaust remains active in the Jewish community. Fear, grief and trauma ripple out to other marginalized groups targeted by modern-day Nazi and fascist groups, including those targeted by Islamophobia.  

Even before the October 7th Hamas attacks, these were profoundly challenging conditions for mutual care and listening. Nonetheless many Israeli, Palestinian, and supporters have worked hard to create spaces for peace, and I have heard several examples of generosity on the ground, if not in geopolitics. In other, less fraught parts of the world, Muslim and Jewish people have found generosity for each other. For example, this 2017 publication from Jews for Racial Justice, Understanding Antisemitism, opens with a photo of Muslim women holding hands in a protective circle around praying Jews. When we are safe enough, my belief is that all humans come to an understanding that our well-being is inherently related to all others’ wellbeing.

You may recall that our neighbors at Manhattan Mennonite and First Congregational Churches hosted an event last June called “Growing Up in Gaza.” The guest speaker was Tareq Abuhalima, a young man from Gaza who is in the US working toward a graduate degree. He and Bob Atchison have worked closely together, and they crafted an event with the goal of being a safe space for education and dialogue about the Israel-Palestine conflict. You can watch a video of “Growing Up in Gaza” here and see a photo of Tareq below. I learned yesterday that Tareq’s sister was killed in Gaza this month. I invite you to pause as you read, in respect for this young life and so many others taken in war.

As the crisis in Gaza continues to unfold, I encourage you to return regularly to a sense of safety in your own body. This terrible situation will not be resolved by dysregulated individuals. If you are not, yourself, bound up in the trauma of the situation, find a generous orientation to everyone involved. Even though we are far away, I believe that we can be a part of peace-making through managing our anxiety and opening our hearts to true grief for all the harm. These are practices of generosity, and through them, we may learn what else we have to offer. If you find yourself in a conversation about the issue, please try to breathe, ask questions, and listen generously. And please give me feedback about what leadership might be helpful from me on this or any other issue. I also encourage you to read this statement from UUA President Rev. Dr. Sofía Betancourt (also copied below) on the Gaza crisis.

If you are looking for a physical activity to express your generosity in service of peace, I invite you to join me and others to support Veterans for Peace on November 11. We will witness the Veterans Day Parade and demonstrate against war. See the November newsletter for more details.

With an open heart,

Pastor Isabel

 

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Statement from UUA President Rev. Dr. Sofía Betancourt Regarding the Conflict Between Israel and Hamas

October 7, 2023

Beloveds, I invite you to stop what you are doing if you can and sit with me in the depth of this tragedy. How to reconcile the cost of occupation and of war? How to nuance two very real histories of oppression and violence? I am holding close the words of U.N. Middle East peace envoy Tor Wennesland who said: “This is a dangerous precipice, and I appeal to all to pull back from the brink.”

We as a people of faith can condemn violence against civilians while at the same time engaging the full legacies and histories of oppression that shape such devastating conflict. As a faith tradition, Unitarian Universalists have long worked for peace, and our principles and values call for the goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all. At the same time, we have not engaged the tangled issues surrounding Israel/Palestine in community since 2018, and our last engagement resulted in severed relationships, and deep pain.

I pray for the people of Israel and Palestine. I pray for leaders around the globe who must respond to this latest flare of violence and the untenable ethical considerations that abound. I pray for Muslim and Jewish UUs who experience the impact of this long strife acutely. I pray that those of us less likely to know the trauma of unending brutality and harm will not turn away from generational loss, from the devastating realities and their root causes, or from the relentless tragedy of war and occupation. Be gentle with yourselves when you need to be, but do not turn away unless you must. We are one global family living tenuously on the same human-impacted Earth. Let us center ourselves in justice as we call for peace.