It’s how I could attend retreats and conferences. The non-Korean parts of me were ignored so that the rest of me could belong. But is that really belonging? What does it mean to belong when only part of you is welcomed? When only part of you gets to show up?
I forward these to my family; it means so much to us to see these images. During the war, it feels like the people of Palestine have been disregarded, devalued, and forsaken, not only by the world, but also by the Church. It has been disheartening to see and hear how some Christians talk about Palestinians, as if they are less than human. But to see images like these of support and solidarity is a reminder that they are not forgotten. They are people, they are hurting, and they are seen.
He led us in a song in Arabic. It was a song of lament. We sang it over Palestine. With my eyes closed, I listened to the words. The familiar tongue from childhood was now being sung in prayer to God. I’m sitting next to Asian brothers and sisters, singing a song over my Palestinian brothers and sisters. My two worlds are brought together in this one moment. I cannot describe what it means to me. I want to be in this moment as long as I can. I try not to weep. I am incredibly grateful. It is one of the few times where I don’t wonder, “Which of these does not belong?”
