On March 6, 2010, the Quaker Meeting House in Ramallah was celebrating its 100th anniversary; I was lucky enough to be able to attend their special centennial meeting last Sunday. The Meeting House was full; many of them told me they had never seen such a crowd on a Sunday morning. The streets of Ramallah are bustling; Sunday morning is the beginning of the week here, the vendors are in their shops, the market tables are full, and people are going and coming. The Quaker Meeting House is in the middle of the commercial center of Ramallah; coming up from the bus station, I am walking through the city center and, as one of my colleagues noticed, it looks like an obstacle course. Entering the Meeting House, the contrast between the outside and the inside is quite striking! I enter an oasis of peace and silence and tranquility. It is very calming. The stones of the wall are 100 years old. They are bare and solid. Not much else is in the Meeting House, just a beautiful tapestry hanging on the front wall and a few quotes on the other walls reminding every visitor that silence is a natural way of listening to God. More than anywhere else, sitting in silence in Ramallah is a restorative process. When I leave the Meeting House, I know I have to go through Qalandiya checkpoint, a sinister place.
I am a friend of the Friends; that is how I introduce myself. And in Ramallah too, I meet extraordinary individuals among the people coming to Meeting. Their kindness, compassion, and endless commitment to justice are somehow reassuring. These people truly care and it matters so much. They recognize the EAs and always welcome them.
Last Sunday, the Meeting House was full; even the mayor of Ramallah –a woman!—was there to honor the Quaker presence in the city. People came from England and the U.S. to salute them and share memories. I am there too, listening to their stories and pondering this rich history. They were there in the 19th century already, before the Meeting House was even built. Pioneers of peace and justice in a land thirsty for it. The stones of the Meeting House are their witness, echoing the silent prayers of the past century. If silence is a way of listening to God, is God then listening to our silences? There, before going back to the terrible weight of the outside world, I want to believe so!
[Website: http://www.ramallahquakers.org/]
Professor,
ReplyDeleteI came in here again to read how things are going with your and your experience. So far, both times I have been in your blog, my mind has been blown. I talked about your postings with someone very dear to me and we have read them together. I guess I just wanted to thank you again for writing.
I had never thought about it, but sometimes I pray aloud and sometimes in silence. I always feel like God is listening, however. I don't know... maybe I have been wrong all along, but I'd like to think that he listens either way. Silence does bring me peace, nonetheless.
....
Thanks professor,
Cassy