Esteemed Fellow Humans,
Since I’ve already cast stones at the stained glass of cathedrals, I may as well speak my peace to the synagogues and mosques as well. I’m not here to lay blame or debate theology. We live in a world where too many respond to criticism with violence, and while I try to speak with courage, I’m not foolish enough to paint a target on my back. My only weapons are my words, and my only defense is a pen name.
Instead of accusations, I’ll follow the example of a carpenter from your part of the world and tell you a story.
When I was about seven years old, I went to a birthday party for a classmate. He was a little more affluent than me, and I suppose a little spoiled (I was admittedly jealous when he got a Super Nintendo as a gift). When it came time for cake, he threw a tantrum because he didn’t get the exact piece he wanted. In his frustration, he knocked the whole cake off the table, screaming, “If I can’t have my cake, nobody gets any!” Some kids cried because they hadn’t even gotten a slice.
Later, I asked my dad why someone would ruin something for everyone just because they didn’t get their way. He told me that people are like crabs in a pot, one crab alone can climb out, but put a bunch together, and they’ll pull each other down, ensuring none escape. I didn’t fully understand what he meant until years later.
That same kid from the party crossed paths with me again as an adult. He had joined the military right out of high school, we graduated shortly after 9/11, at the height of the War on Terror. He told me he had met good people overseas, people who didn’t deserve what had happened to them, and that American bombs had been the best recruiting tool for terrorists. The cycle of violence only fueled more violence. He carried guilt for many things, but one of the few things he could make right was that tantrum from his childhood. So, as an apology, he gave me a simple 8-inch vanilla cake. Nothing fancy. But knowing the self-reflection that had led him to that moment, it was one of the most meaningful, delicious cakes I’ve ever eaten.
Let go of the past.
It doesn’t matter who shot first. It doesn’t matter who has been the victim longer or who claims divine right. That’s all nonsense. What matters is that people are suffering now, and they need your help, not your vengeance.
Five millennia of tribalism, mutual envy, and resentment have turned the Holy Land into a mass grave. You are all crabs in a pot, dragging each other down when you could be lifting each other up, if only you had the empathy to choose compassion over anger. That carpenter I mentioned once said, “Turn the other cheek.”
I don’t expect my words to change the hearts of those caught in a centuries-old blood feud. But I do know that no conflict can be resolved while everyone still has their guns raised. I’m not asking you to forgive your enemies or apologize. Just put the gun down, and with it, your need for revenge and your religious justification for hate.
Let go of the past.
Let go of entitlement, of resentment, of who “deserves” what. Stop keeping score. Instead, do what you can, right now, to make things better.
Maybe start by sharing a piece of cake with someone you never thought you would. You might find you have more in common than you think.
Peace be with you,
R.L. Lawrence