Sons

I spent the International Day of Women in Ramallah visiting sons. Now I know that I should have found some girls to visit, but to be honest, except for the quick glance at the Google logo that morning, I had forgotten all about this call for justice. Odd, I know, since part of the reason I’m here in Palestine is to investigate potential projects for advocating for women’s empowerment among the refuge population here.

Sons are precious in this part of the world. In a society where men carry much of the responsibility outside the home, there is pride when sons are born and joy in their successes. With that privilege comes the promise of protection for sisters, affection for mothers, and commitment to future wives. And while, at times, it rubs my feminist sensibilities the wrong way, I have actually seen less cultural distain for women than I often see in the States. Women are celebrated and treasured. Among the Christians I know here, women are deeply respected and are powerful leaders for change. And one of the ways they influence the future is by raising good sons.

So it was with great anticipation that I went to Ramallah to visit 4 month-old twins Bishira and Francis, the adorable sons of Basma and Raed Shraideh. For Roman Catholics around the world, I imagine Francis will be a very popular name this year. Bishira, on the other hand, may not be as familiar. In Arabic, Bishira means, “to proclaim the good news.”

As we got reacquainted over a glass of fresh squeezed lemonade, Basma told me about her pregnancy and the birth of the twins. This dear couple acclimated to the instant doubling of their family by moving into Raed’s family compound in Nablus for a little over a month. His mother and father, brother and sister-in-law helped them attend to feedings, diaper changes, and requisite mid-night rocking. Raed and Basma look both exhausted and joyful in these early photos. Like all parents, the love they have for their sons defies explanation. What was obvious in those early photos was clear to me as I saw them both cuddle, feed, and delight in these two growing boys.

When looking through the boys’ baby album, the photos that captured my attention were part of a series that depicted Basma and Raed bringing the boys into church for the first time. Clearly this was a big event, one that reminded me of the pomp of weddings. There is a shot of Basma walking down the “isle” with baby bundle in hand. Another showed both parents presenting the boys to the priest.  In the background, you couldn’t help notice the beaming grandparents and the enraptured congregation! I vaguely knew something about this tradition as I had seen another version of it during my sabbatical stay here. Around the 40-day mark, newborns are brought into church to be blessed. What was new to me was the fact that this was also a celebration of the mother’s reentry into the community where she now has the treasured status as a mother.

The next series touched something very deep in me. Under a Christmas canopy housing the large nativity set, there is a photo of the priest lifting up each boy over his head, praying and offering each one to God. Francis and Bishara do not belong solely to this loving family. They belong to God and thus are dedicated to God’s mission in the world.

I studied these pictures, turning the pages back and forth several times. This was sacrament of a different order. Unlike our baptisms that are scheduled at the parent’s convenience or possibly not scheduled at all, in this culture, from the very beginning, before the babies are even 2 months old, Christian children are offered to God and for God’s service. No need to explain God’s covenant to these families, it is assumed. This is not a part of the world where children will eventually make choices about what faith tradition they may or may not embrace. It will be the responsibility of these parents to raise these sons to be men of God. Like the covenant given to the ancient Israelites on the very mountains surrounding their family home in Nablus, the children are swept up into a binding covenant with God. And this mother and father along with grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins and congregants, will model the rhythms of faith in their home and in their worship. They will forge their identities with the ironclad conviction of their value as God’s beloved and expect them to contribute to their communities. They will nurture their loyalties to friends, open their hearts to the wonder of strangers, and immerse them in the intertwining and deep of love of family.

And what a better place the kingdom of God will be. These two boys will live into the promise of their names. As they live into the legacy of the saint call Francis, the good news will be proclaimed. It is clearly, already, good news to me.