They came to Washington from across the country, from as far away as the Southwestern desert and California. Some wore clerical collars and crosses, others skinny jeans, mussed hair, and fashionably slim ties. They were men and women of good will, representing a broad cross-section of American Christian tradition and expression, along with seasoned activists and policy experts, all united in their commitment to seeing an end to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
Their gathering at an august think thank in Washington, DC, felt like something remarkable. These are leaders with no interest in dividing the world into sheep and goats based on nationality or ethnicity. They have eyes to see more than one side of a story, and they came rooted in a commitment to universal human dignity. They are not blind to injustice, violence and hatred; in fact, each has relationships with real Israelis and Palestinians who bear the consequences of a decades-old conflict. No, these are not naïve dreamers, just people who have seen too much and have been drawn too deeply in. They have been drawn into the stories, lives and work of those in the Middle East who refuse to be enemies. And they now feel too implicated to walk away. There is a unique power that comes from people who understand all too well how broken the world is, and yet somehow know that this was not how it was meant to be. As women and men of faith, they are people who will not give the last word to the cynic, nor cede the field to those who would perpetuate conflict by embracing flawed theologies and divisive worldviews. They are ambassadors of a message of hope and reconciliation, and each believes a solution remains possible. Aaron Niequist, a talented musician, songwriter, and worship leader, said it best: “It will either work for both sides, or it will work for neither.” And it was in that spirit that they met. Some were old friends, many met for the first time at this gathering. Each has a gift and each makes a contribution to the common good, but the beauty of their coming together was the way in which their unity was so much greater than the sum of their individual parts. And for three days they told stories, asked questions, strategized, and imagined ways they could be better, stronger, and louder advocates and peacemakers. Strangely for Washington, egos were checked at the door. No one spoke just because of how much they loved to hear their own voice. When the last session was over, many lingered, and it felt much more like the beginning of something than the end.
