An adventurous week

Loch Leven camp was amazing! It was such a fun, spiritual and meaningful week and full of new experiences for me. On the second day of camp, we had a strange and cute visitor, it was a baby bear lying on a branch of a tree near the dining hall who lost his mommy and he stayed there for awhile.

The area was full of bears, mountain lions, spiders and snakes, thank God we didn’t see them all. We also slept outside for a night and it was a bit scary knowing that there are animals surrounding us and it was a bit cold but overall it was nice sleeping under the stars and trying something new.

We also did a great trust and teamwork group activity which was a wall climb. Campers and counselors had to get each one of the group over the wall to the other side. It seemed scary and it was dark but most of us did it! I ended up with a couple of bruises but it was worth it!

Being here this summer and moving from camp to camp I learned that most people don’t know anything about my country Palestine, they don’t know where it is or what happened and is happening right know, and if they knew they only knew one side of the story, and most of the times, when people hear that I am from Palestine, their questions would be about arranged marriage, how women are treated their, if I wear Hijab back home, how do I dress and what do I eat, they are not about the occupation, the checkpoints or the wall!  So I really appreciate this opportunity to tell people the other side of the story, the side that they would probably never hear in the media, and increase their awareness about the need of peace and justice in the world and I appreciate their willingness to listen to something new and openness to think about it.

Last week was intense, we discussed Palestine's situation, black lives matter, and LGBT. I have seen different responses and opinions and all of us learned a lot. I really enjoyed Loch Leven and  meeting everyone there and I really appreciate being a part of this amazing group of counselors and directories, Brain, Jeannie and Chris who made me feel welcomed and I sincerely thank them for a great week, I feel blessed that I was there.

Seats at Christ's Table

I am not ordained, and yet…
I AM A MINISTER.
I AM A BEARER OF MY EXPERIENCE WITH GOD.
I BRING TO THE TABLE UNIQUE GIFTS THAT I ALONE CAN BRING!

And so do you…

As the story of Esther goes, she was positioned in just the right place for just the right time. Yes, her place in the king’s favor allowed her to advocate for a community on the fringes. Her heritage was hidden for a while but never forgotten. Esther reveals just how scary it is to stand for the marginalized of society, yet sometimes our positions demand such a stance.

Midway through this internship, my primary focus has been on inclusion of the LGBT community. Their place at the table of Christ is essential to fulfilling the Kingdom of God. If you find this statement to be radical, I encourage you to ask yourself why. Through the Hebrew Bible and New Testament, it is the marginalized who God stands with. Those on the fringes are not forgotten by God. Instead, God challenges time and time again the status quo and reminds all people that we are called to protect the marginalized.

While my topics range from white privilege to the death penalty, I focus primarily on a group closest to me that continues to suffer blatant exclusion from Christ’s table. It is still a fight for someone identifying anywhere on the LGBTQIA spectrum to serve openly as clergy. The debate rages whether churches need to declare that they are indeed open and affirming or if people can just tell by attending. To answer this question, I speak only for myself in saying vehemently that NO, I cannot just tell by attending your church that I am truly welcomed and affirmed. The history I must claim as a gay man says this – churches exclude me and there are only a few diamonds in the sea of coal that both welcome and affirm. If you do not say it, I cannot know it.

The dialogue concerning inclusive theology is essential at the denominational level, regional level, church level, and camp level. My experience midway through this summer is that my views receive a great deal of support from clergy and church leaders alike, yet surprisingly my conversations are quite often the first of their kind to make their way to our young people. Calling all clergy and church leaders here, I need your help!

There are texts in the Bible that are often used to do great damage to my community, yet there are only a select few. While in Leviticus we may find one such passage, in Deuteronomy we find another that encourages the elders of a town to stone to death unruly children. Why is it I am the first one who has made their way into several lives this summer asking these children how to make sense of this? Why am I the first for so many young people to have asked why embracing a Levitical law condemning homosexuality is more common than embracing the one encouraging us to stone our unruly children to death? This is essential to including all marginalized communities at Christ’s table, and dear clergy of the church, it happens to fall on you to be providing spaces for these conversations to be happening.

The resounding temperature of my conversation this summer has shown that these discussions are not happening. I have left my loft at a small liberal arts school having completed my freshman year of college to represent a discussion that those far more educated than me are often times avoiding. Esther hid her identity for just the right moment, yet the miracle was her decision to use her placement at the table to help the marginalized find their own seat. You, clergy members of Disciples of Christ, are positioned as Esther. When my conversations stop this summer and are forgotten by many come this fall, it is up to you to keep them going. You represent the people of God – ALL PEOPLE – and I encourage you to keep these conversations alive.

There are many people doing many great things, but the theology of acceptance and inclusion of those in the LGBTQIA community is coming as a surprise to far too many of our young people. I encourage you to make your pulpit alive to this conversation. You are the advocates for the marginalized. You are the educators of Christ’s inclusion. You, friends, are the ongoing conversation these young people will be left with as they return home from camp this summer. Please do not let the call to inclusion fall silent.

Blessings,
Matthew

A prayer

Dear Loving God,

My heart is heavy. Everyday brings another heart breaking story: terrorist attacks in countries where the people have already suffered and seen so much war and destruction; the death of another person of color by a police officer, the murders of police officers, not to mention the other small acts of violence and murder that don’t gripe the nation or world media, but which cause irreparable damage and suffering. Each act of violence leaves behind a slew of victims; not just those who died, but family and friends who are left to mourn and try to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives.  Children without fathers and mothers, mothers and fathers without their children; lives all cherished by God snatched in seconds because of hatred, violence and fear.

My heart also breaks for those who engage in acts of violence. I am overwhelmed by the anger, fear, and hatred that cause some to view other people that are a different skin color, or have different religious beliefs, as such dangerous threats that they are to be killed.  I am devastated that there are some people who believe that the only way to gain justice, the only way to counter hatred and violence, is by taking the lives of innocent people.  The individuals who engage in these acts of violence are mothers, fathers, daughters, and sons.  They too, are beloved children of God.

I cry for Adel Jaf, one of 175 killed in a terrorist attack in Baghdad July third. I weep for Alton Sterling and Philando Castile, two of many men throughout the last few years that have been killed by police under questionable circumstances. I mourn for the five officers murdered in Dallas: Brent Thompson, Patrick Zamarripa, Michael Krol, Michael Smith, and Lorne Ahrens.

It grieves me that as a society-we believe certain lives are worth-less than others.  Those who are killed in Baghdad-whether by terrorists or by western forces-often become nothing more than a number to be rattled off in a news article. Their lives and stories are erased. It pains me that those killed by police-are often portrayed as criminals and thugs -regardless of their criminal history or lack thereof. By virtue of their past or skin color, their lives are viewed as easily discarded. And I am devastated that Micah X Johnson in response to the racism and hatred that he railed against, decided that the best way to deal with his anger and the injustice that he saw, was to go out and shoot and kill five police officers.  His actions, as well as his own death, have left scores of people mourning: the family and friends of police officers, and his own loved ones.

I find myself asking with the psalmist, how long O, Lord?  How long O’ Lord until your children learn to value and care about each and every life? How long O’ Lord until we reject the myth that violence saves and brings justice? How Long O' Lord, until the tears stop?

I Am Tired

When it comes to engaging in social justice work, rest is vitally important. During this mid-summer retreat, I am feeling physically rested. As for spiritual rest-well that remains elusive.

I identify as afro-Puerto Rican. Meaning that I hold onto my identity as a Puerto Rican woman, while acknowledging my indigenous and African roots.  Those who know even a little bit of American history know about the centuries of violence inflicted on indigenous people and Africans.  

However, as horrific as the violence inflicted on black and brown bodies in the past was, what is disheartening is that this violence continues to be a part of American society. And it makes me angry. I am angry that another person of color-unarmed-has been killed by American police. I am angry because this seems like the beginning of script that we are all familiar with-angry protests, promises by law enforcement and government officials that a thorough investigation will be had only for those responsible to not be charged, to have charges dropped, or to be given a token sentence.  This familiar script simply reinforces the notion that in black and brown lives don’t actually matter. My life doesn’t matter.

I am tired of having to defend my worth and existence to a society that will always see people like me as thugs, thieves, and criminals no matter what we do. I am tired of having to pretend that everything is alright-that the continued violence against black and brown bodies doesn’t bother me.  The reality is the media only covers a fraction of the violence against black and brown bodies perpetrated by the state-the rest are often ignored or dismissed. In most cases, the official narrative is parroted without thought: the people killed were a threat, were thugs, and were worthless.  The larger society has the privilege of being able to pay attention to violence against black and brown bodies only when it makes national news. As a person of color, I don’t have that luxury. I hear about many of the local and insignificant deaths. The names that are printed in a short article and often forgotten by everyone but loved ones.  Their lives sniffed out and erased.  

Do their lives matter? I think their lives mattered, but society’s silence serves as a resounding no.

I have to go about my day fearing that I could one day be next.  I have to keep those fears silent and internalized knowing that I would be ridiculed for having them. What do I have to worry about? I just need to “act right,” not talk back, not “resist,” do what I am told; do what I am supposed to do. I just need to be quiet. But I know that sometimes doing “everything right,” isn’t enough. That because of the color of my skin, my life could be snuffed out and my death considered justified.

I am physically rested. But I am spiritually tired and broken. And no amount of time off is going to heal me.  I need the violence to stop. I need the deaths to stop. I need the worth of people of color to be affirmed. I need my life to be affirmed.  I wonder, does the Church hear my suffering? Does the Church care?

The Church's silence is deafening.

Moving in God’s grace

“What is grace?” I haven’t really thought of the meaning behind this word that much until this summer. I realized how blessed we humans are and how beautiful it is to receive the grace of God, this gift of endless love, mercy, acceptance and forgiveness that God gives to us, to everyone! no matter if we are “good” or “bad”.

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8).

The “secret of grace” and “secret of the kingdom” were the focus of camp Chandler - Alabama. This camp helped me to realize how we all experience grace in our lives and how to think about offering grace to others around us, to all people, even when it’s too hard to give it to who we think don’t deserve it, people who we don’t like, people who are different from us and people who heart us. Those people that we think are bad and are not a part of God’s kingdom are in fact are. God goes out to seek the lost. God finds us and comes into our hearts and love us and bring us home. God makes a decision for us. God comes into our world to invite us to join in God’s Kingdom building. We don’t find God, God finds us. God isn’t lost; we are.  That’s the secret of the Kingdom. The kingdom isn’t about our leaving this world to go be with God. It’s about God coming into our world and choosing to be with us.

This camp was amazing! The nature of it, the lake, the trees and the weather were absolutely beautiful. It was kind of a small, quiet compared to my first camp but it was more close. Those thirty high school camper are such insightful, mature and smart people and I enjoyed meeting them a lot.

At Peace and Justice night, I got the chance to give my workshop to the whole camp and it was great. Everyone was interested and involved and I loved it. They were really affected by the story and they were so eager to come and visit this holy land and walk in the same places that Jesus walked in. At the ending worship we had a kind of Palestinian communion with pita bread and tea which are the usual type of bread and drink to us and I said the institution words in Arabic! It was the first time I ever do such a thing since we are not used to the idea of the involvement of females with church in general. It was actually a great feeling! Also, I had my first Tie Dye t-shirt and I swam and paddled in that gorges lake.

I am overwhelmed by this camp’s hospitality, generosity and love! The staff and the director were really awesome people! I love you Alabama!

Courage to Embrace Equity

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A few years ago, I made my first trip to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and stood in awe next to Lake Michigan. Even before that first visit, I had always been intrigued by the Great Lakes. Then, the natural wonder that I had only ever read about became a concrete, tangible reality exposing itself to all my senses. Moving forward to this past week at Dunkirk Camp in New York, I felt an overwhelming awe once again as I sat next to one of God's most amazing natural wonders. If all of God's majesty can be found in a single grain of sand, when the paintbrush turns to create something like Lake Eerie, it can easily overwhelm the senses. As Friedrich Schleiermacher might claim, it approaches intuiting the infinite.In all the natural beauty, I found myself discerning how to make palatable a very real component of modern society - privilege. Sitting on the beach during sunset on Lake Eerie had me looking around and considering all of those individuals who cannot afford such an experience. While some camps have avenues to allowing under-privileged young people the opportunity to go to camp through scholarships, these allowances become the exception for the community they represent. How does one teach privilege when it is not just a matter of economic wealth? How does one see past the lenses of apathy and complacency created by their own privilege to find momentum to change societal structures in such a way that provides greater and more equitable opportunity? The sunset on Lake Eerie, beautiful as it was, did not answer. Instead, it provided even more questions.

Going camp to camp this summer highlights one resounding theme - camps are very Caucasian and often represent a vast majority who have the economic means or avenues of privilege to go to camp. Yes, it may be that in some situations families have worked extra hard in order to provide such an opportunity for their kids. Yes, earned income is not usually easy income and because of this, accepting privilege becomes a matter of understanding that it does not correlate to how hard one works. This means that a discussion on privilege finds barriers before it ever makes it to understanding.

Writing this blog comes from a calm, quiet reflection during mid-summer retreat. It comes from a place where I myself feel quite privileged. Looking back not just on my most immediate camp experience but to all of them thus far, I wonder what our denomination can be doing to create more equitable avenues to a true state of inclusivity. A conversation a few weeks ago continues to have me considering what it might look like for our denomination to truly diversify. Specifically, I wonder how an entire denomination is expected to diversify when that diversity does not always equate to financial sustainability at church level.

Imagine a new church start that brings in members of color and varieties of non-binary gender conforming or non-hetero normative people. Marginalization of these groups can perhaps leave the congregation as a whole financially bankrupt from the start. Yet in a movement toward churches without walls, we begin to see that this is most common in the church that exists for the marginalized and low-income. I believe sitting on the shore of Lake Eerie, I was gifted this pondering. We as a denomination can be doing more to afford opportunities to the marginalized. Our future as a denomination demands it.

Sunset at Dunkirk

My family group at Dunkirk talked about a few of these issues. This was easily the most fulfilling part of my visit. Again I was surprised by the depth of consideration young people can give during a reflection on equity and equality. If our young people can give such a consideration to these very real and tough issues, why can we not be doing more? When churches fail not because of lack of mission or membership but because of financial strain, we fail as a denomination. A church without walls, for example, can stand as a church with a minister who acts by vocation. Progressive as our denomination may be, this seems unacceptable and outdated. I believe in a vision that creates more equitable distribution of resources so that Pastors in even the most marginalized communities are sustainable. I believe in a future that allows for any and every child in our denomination to go to church camp regardless of financial disposition to afford such an opportunity. I believe, friends, that we can be doing a better job of distributing resources in a more equitable way throughout our denomination

.The young people of Dunkirk were so willing to enter this conversation. My job this summer is to inspire such conversations about society at large, but I am failing if I do not invite our entire denomination to also engage is this very conversation.  I find myself reflecting on equity when there are congregations with huge endowments and who also hold valuable idealized visions to serve the marginalized but perhaps do not know the best means to do so. I ask where there is equality without figuring out equity together as a denomination. I ask those reading this - what can you do in your home congregations to support Pastors serving by vocation and create a space for all children to experience summer camp? How might your own church help support the efforts of other financially strained churches? Are you a church that is itself financially strained? If so, what do you see as equitable for our denominational future? You, friends, are the answer(s) to these difficult questions.

As I continue my discussions this summer on privilege, I remind myself regularly that the marginalized do not have the convenience of remaining apathetic or indifferent. Nor should they ever engage in the luxury of complacency, as Martin Luther King, Jr. so eloquently stated. My hope is that those who are able to set aside these difficult conversations because they are unaffected will come realize that there are groups who cannot do so. It is for this reason we are called to care. My friends, it is for this reason we have such a peace intern program. My youthful family at Dunkirk entered this conversation with me, so I ask - will you join us in the conversation?

Blessings,
Matthew

Dear American History Teacher

What were you thinking?

At one of my camps this month, a camper in my cabin saw me using deodorant. She said, "I thought you guys didn't use deodorant."I was a little confused so I asked, "What do you mean?"

"My history teacher said that you guys don't use deodorant and don't shave."

After some more discussion it was clarified that the "you guys" referred to Muslims.This was after this camper had attended one of my workshops and learned that I am Palestinian.I had assumed that being at a Christian summer camp as a Peace Intern of the Disciples Peace Fellowship would make it blatantly obvious that I am Christian, but guess not. Since I'm Arab I must be Muslim, right?Wrong.I began explaining to her that:1. I am not Muslim. &2. Arabs (Muslim and Chrisitan) use deodorant and shave.Why exactly her history teacher felt the need to mention that completely false statement to her class and what it has to do with history, I do not know. But I do know, being an Arab myself, that if there was ever an award for the most obsessively clean culture it would be given to the Arab one.Not only do Arabs care about hygiene, they are also some of the most hospitable and kind people around. But, unfortunately, that truth is not something they teach in school.So.Dear American History Teacher,I don't know where you get your information from, but it's not correct. I urge you to reeducate yourself in order to accurately educate your youth. Because I hate to break it to you, but Islamophobia is a thing. (It might even be the result of your false teaching.) And it's something you need to deal with because of the Arabs (Muslim and Christian) who live in the States and seem to be staying there. Some things you should know are:

• Not all Arabs are Muslim. &

• Not all Muslims are Arab. (Only 20% of Muslims are Arab. The majority are Indonesian, Pakistani, Indian, and Bangladeshi.)

It is amazing how much the Western media dehumanizes Arabs. At my camps I have been trying to rectify the skewed image of Arabs, but it doesn't help if these kids are being fed lies in school.People fear the unknown. Let's educate ourselves and get one step closer to peace.Sincerely,An Arab Christian

Labels Matter

As the nation celebrates the July 4th weekend, many Americans will enjoy hanging out with friends, a day off from work, and watching the fireworks. The founding fathers are in American lore, portrayed as revolutionaries and freedom fighters throwing off the chains of British imperialism and oppression. One word that will not be used to describe America’s founding fathers? Terrorists. Despite the fact that the very people that are revered in American history advocated the violent overthrow of the government, popular American thought treats them as heroes.  But what if independence never happened? What if, those who advocated for the violent overthrow of the British government lost? They would be remembered as traitors, spies, and when the term terrorist came into fashion, they would be remembered and written about as terrorists.  How we label an event, whether an event that happened in the recent past or centuries before, matters.

This week at camp, I was able to have discussions with campers about terrorism-what actions are considered to fall under that umbrella and who gets to decide whether an action, a person, or a group get labeled terrorists.  In one of my interest groups, I read to them four different scenarios. I read the scenarios multiple times, each time, I provided a different context or background. In one reading I just read the scenario as I had written it, in the next I read a quote from a Muslim extremist organization that seemed to fit with the scenario, and finally I revealed that the various scenarios I had written were in fact based on Bible stories. Some of the stories are a cherished part of Christian and Jewish faith, others are verses and stories we prefer to ignore. Each time I read the scenario and provided a different context I asked the campers, “is this an act of terrorism? Why or why not?”

I was surprised to find that even though the scenarios were based on scripture, the campers didn’t automatically justify the stories or Bible verses as being “just” but they were willing to grapple with the question of whether the Scripture that we hold so dear, has stories that endorse violence. They were willing to question whether or not some of the stories in the text, could today, be labeled as terrorism. Of course the purpose of this exercise isn’t to justify terrorism or violent action in any form-but it is meant to get campers to realize that “terrorism” is a complex subject based less on objective analysis and more on questions of power-who has to the power to label certain actions as terrorism while describing other actions, even those in which civilians are killed and targeted, as heroic. Or in the case of the Bible, these stories become part of a sacred text.

I will say this again, how we label something or someone matters.  In the West, “terrorism” is most often associated with the actions of violent Muslim extremists groups or individuals. As a result, the label terrorist has taken on a specific racial, religious, and cultural meaning. This means that a shooting by someone who is Muslim, looks Muslim, or is from a predominantly Muslim country will be investigated and labeled a terrorist attack while a shooting by a white male against people of color with the stated purpose of starting a race war, will be investigated as murder and as a hate crime.

This association of terrorism with Islam means that Western governments will justify torturing suspected terrorists, holding them in isolation with limited contact with family, friends, and the outside world without officially charging them, and blanket surveillance of Muslim communities, in the name of “national security.” Labeling someone or an action as falling under the umbrella of terrorism is not just an issue of semantics, but it is also a justice issue.  The campers this week understood this, why do so many of us adults have such a hard time understanding this?

Walking Together Toward Truth

Every minute of being in Iowa has been lovely. This camp, Camp 15 at the Christian Conference Center, has quirky and thoughtful youth with obvious eagerness to be engaged and to learn. I can't exactly understand how 60+ people became a family for me in a new state in only one week, but that's definitely the case. The camp directors are two incredible men named Randy and Bill. Both of them love the youth with all they have, and I know that every camper here feels valuable and special because of their devotion to them. Randy is practically addicted to kindness, always reaching out to give a high-five with supportive words. Bill is a thoughtful teacher, prepared to unwrap the gifts that each person brings to the table at any moment. Last night was the camp talent show. I must admit, my first thought was What the heck kind of camp is this? as I watched a girl twirl flaming batons outside for the opening act. That was followed by a comedy act, 2 songs from the amazing musical Hamilton, a moving poem written by a camper at 4 am, and other musical pieces that blew me away. We saw the whole spectrum last night, and vulnerability and humor seemed to coalesce perfectly as we enjoyed time with one another. This display of talent and support and love—this remarkable act of community—it's the very stuff of peace. This week, I talked with the campers about the death penalty and the criminal justice system, but I also got to shape-up some other workshops and talk to them about the proposal to put Harriet Tubman on the $20 bill, as well as the ways that popular media intertwines with justice work (often in harmful ways). The workshop regarding Harriet Tubman was excellent, because it opened up conversations about narratives in the U.S., what democracy really means, who Andrew Jackson was, representation of women and their contributions to history, and race and privilege in America. Some youth admitted to being uncomfortable about seeing her face on the bill, so we discussed why change is tough but necessary for the whole. No amount of discomfort can truly stand up against a more inclusive world, in which all people are valued and valuable. This conversation was also important for the sake of waking us up to every-day “norms” that we don't really think twice about. Whether we think about our currency or see the faces on them or not, it is engraved into our psyche that “democracy” is a result of white, land-owning men, rather than countless people of all races and statuses building this nation together. There was another interest group this week called “Porch Rap,” in which the campers sit with Randy and discuss current events. I always had to give my workshop during this time, but I heard that one day was particularly hard for them—the day they discussed racism. Apparently there were some intense arguments that left everyone feeling like they were “walking on glass.” Some campers came away looking exhausted, hopeless, and guilty. The next day in my peace workshop, we discussed why it is so hard to talk about race. We mentioned the polarizing media and the guilt that is inevitably produced by these discussions, but we also agreed that guilt is a pretty useless emotion and not the goal of these hard conversations. I carry a quote around with me everywhere I go: “Praise the authentic moments of walking together toward truth.” We are learning together this week that no one has the monopoly on truth. We need each other and we need to be opened, always seeking truth together rather than on a “side.” I love you Iowa! Thank you for a week I'll never forget!

Christianity and Islam

Two of the activities that I use in workshops are formatted as games and center around Bible verses and the Quran and some central beliefs in Christianity and Islam. In the first activity the students have to guess whether a given statement is from the Bible or from the Quran. Some campers have a good grasp of the Bible or the Quran and found the activity relatively easy. Others, however struggled. I intentionally chose verses and ayahs that sounded similar, especially when they discussed violence.  also pointed out to verses in the Quran that talk about peace and caring for others.

In the media we often hear about how violent Islam and the Quran are.  The public discourse surrounding Islam and the Quran seems to imply that Islam created terrorism and violence.  Violence in Christian or Jewish texts are often ignored. Or in the case of the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) Christians dismiss that section of the Bible as if it were irrelevant. Or some say, “of course the Old Testament is violent…” ignoring books like Revelation in the New Testament. Or, some Christians state, “well you need to take violent Bible verses in their context,” while not extending the same curtesy to the Quran.

In this activity, by contrasting and comparing the Bible and Quran I hope to open campers eyes to the ways in which violence and peace are described in both texts. This often jumpstarts a discussion on islamophobia in the United States and how violence and terrorism are not limited to Islam or to non-state actors.  My favorite part of the activity is watching the surprised look on campers face when a verse they thought was in the Quran turns out to be from the Bible or vice versa. I am also inspired by how willing the campers are to engage in tough discussions about violence in a text they consider to be sacred.

My second activity is similar to the first one, except that it asks students to decide whether a belief is Islamic, Christian or both. For example, I might say, “Belief: Jesus is awesome” and the campers have to decide whether that is something that only Muslims believe, that only Christians believe or if it is something shared by both faiths. I of course mention that Christianity and Islam are both complicated and diverse religions and that in this game I have to simplify that complexity. But it has been fascinating to see how campers react to certain beliefs. For example, many are amazed at some of the similarities between Christianity and Islam. Such as the belief that Jesus is a prophet, a belief in one God etc. But they are also intrigued by some differences. The Quran for instances denies Jesus’ crucifixion and death. The discussion after the activity often leads to questions surrounding how Christians should treat Muslims in light of the similarity and differences amongst the two religions.  In the two camps I have been to so far, many of the campers I have met have not had sustained interactions with Muslims, yet it is extremely heartening to hear them say that they reject the common narrative that Islam is inherently violent or that terrorism is simply a Muslim problem.  Many are willing to examine and critique the violence done in the name of their own religion by Nation-states, individuals, and small groups.

Peace is complicated. Peace is a long, drawn out process. But I believe that one step in creating a more just and peaceful world requires a rejection of villainizing those who look, believe, or act differently than us. I am thrilled to see how many high schoolers could teach us adults a thing or two about acceptance.

My voice is Peace

My voice is Peace, my voice is Love, my voice is Unity.Peace to the land that is created for peace and never saw it. As a Palestinian Christian who lived her entire life under occupation, all I want, dream and pray for is peace. It’s never easy but it’s worth working for.

I’m Minerva Halteh, one of the Disciples Peace Fellowship intern this summer, I had an amazing, fruitful and extremely busy training week with my fellow interns in which we had the pleasure to meet with global ministries, DOC representatives and the General Minister and President of the Christian Church – Rev. Dr. Sharon Watkins and learn all about the great work they do.

Our new journey is about to start.  We pray to God to take away our fear and uncertainty and to give us the strength, power and patience to spread the message of love and peace everywhere we go.“

You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us. And the world will live as one.”

Minerva  

Hope in a Violent and Hateful World

My academic areas of research focus on Islamophobia and terrorism (of all kinds, not just Islamist terrorism). Meaning that normally, I spend a good portion of my day examining the dark side of humanity: the hatred towards Muslims shown by some in the US and Europe, the violence that take place in numerous parts of the world by both non-state terrorists groups and by nation-states, who often kill civilians in the so-called “war on terror.” When so much of your time is spent focusing on the very worst of humanity-it can be difficult believe that hope and goodness exists.

However, my week at Camp Couchdale with the Great River Region served as a reminder that despite the amount of hate and violence in the world-there are people, from across the political and theological spectrum who refuse to fall into the “US vs Them” mentality endorsed by terrorists and increasingly, by numerous western governments.  I spent the week talking about islamophobia and terrorism and I was heartened by how many of the youth rejected the dominant media narrative that “all Muslims are terrorists.” Some pointed to personal experiences they have had with Muslims, while others instinctively knew how unfair it is to demonize a whole group of people based on the actions of the few.  I didn’t have to tell them that violence and terrorism wasn’t limited to Islam, many told me about instances in which Christians have committed horrific actions in the name of God, yet they refuse to believe that those Christian group and individuals speak for them. Likewise, the campers argued that Muslim terrorists don’t speak for all Muslims.

I was humbled by the campers’ willingness to talk about difficult subjects; very few people want to examine the ways in which their own religion has inspired some to commit horrific acts of violence. I was also inspired by the campers’ openness to learning about Islam. The campers welcomed me and my message with open arms. Even when disagreement arose, as it always does, they were respectful of differing opinions and they were open to learning. In turn, they taught me about hope and radical acceptance for “the other”-which in this case were Muslims who are often vilified as terrorists.The areas that I focus on in my academic research show me the dark side of humanity, my week at Camp Couchdale with the Great River Region youth, reminded me that hope and God’s presence can still be found.

Naiomi Gonzalez

A physical reminder of the beauty of the world…