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Tents of Mercy Congregation
Kiryat Yam, Israel
Arab-Israeli Dental Clinic in War Time
We waited impatiently outside the dentist office. “He’ll be right back,” the secretary had promised us when we arrived.
After a few minutes Dr. Basel appeared, holding a supermarket bag bursting with treats and snacks. The little girl holding his hand grinned from ear to ear. He welcomed us in a warm and relaxed way as if we had come to visit him at his home in Nazareth and not at his elegantly styled modern clinic in the middle of suburban "Kriyot" where I live.
Once we were inside the treatment room, an assistant came in. While she responded to his wordless sign-language request for the tools he needed, the white haired Arab-Israeli dentist explained:
“She’s only been here for 6 months from Ukraine, a [Jewish] war refugee. She doesn’t yet speak Hebrew, so we don’t have a common language, but we understand each other perfectly.”
Dr. Basel had agreed to employ this dental assistant whom the other [Jewish] clinics had not wanted. The little girl, who we had speculated was his granddaughter, was actually the Ukrainian assistant’s daughter, and his grandfatherly concern was only that she enjoy the ice cream he had bought for her.
While the TV in the waiting room buzzed quietly with ongoing war news, the Arab and Jewish staff moved about the clinic purposefully as clients came in and out, receiving service and warm attention from Dr. Basel. As my daughter was being treated, I chatted with the other dental assistant, a Muslim woman also from Nazareth. We joked about the crazy traffic in Nazareth, and she warmly recommended that we visit while the town is garbed in full Christmas attire.
Walking out of the clinic at the end of the last treatment, I thanked Irena the Jewish secretary and Ismahan, the Arab assistant. The feeling of community and cultural collectivity was tangible.
Social media and news feeds tell us that this is a war between “us” and “them,” between Jews and Arabs; but regular day-to-day Israeli life proves otherwise. While social justice is far from perfect in our tiny country, democracy is alive and well and is shining even brighter against the darkness revealed on October 7th. The casualties we are mourning and the heroes we are celebrating, cover the gamut of Israeli demographics. Among the kidnapped are: Sephardic and Ashkenazi; Jewish, Muslim and Christian; religious and secular; native born Jews and Arabs; and international migrant workers. What the world doesn’t understand is that our daily lives as Israeli Jews and Israeli Arabs are inextricably intertwined – like two gnarly vines whose stems have grown in and around each other. Avoiding engagement and interaction between Jews and Arabs here in Israel would be ridiculous, impossible. We live, study and work together in peace. Is it perfect? No. Is there resentment on occasion? Yes. Could it be better? Yes. However, Israeli society is one that is always seeking to make things better. Do we enjoy and engage in one another’s traditions? Yes.
This war is not about us and them. We wrestle not against flesh and blood. This war is about evil forces working against peace and freedom, working against divinely-inspired mutual honor and respect native to this area of the world. This war is about the enemy’s incessant attempt to derail God’s plan for all the world to be blessed through Abraham.
Children’s Dichotomy
In the first weeks of the war, school was cancelled. And then gradually, kids were sent back to school or diverted to online learning by areas: red (unsafe/evacuated areas), yellow (caution areas) or green (safe areas). Initially our area was yellow and the kids settled into remote study from home - “Covid style”.
Overhearing my son’s 10th grade language class from the computer, I noticed the teacher ask about the human complexities of the war and urge the kids to explore their own thoughts and opinions. “The poor innocent civilians in Gaza are not to blame for the atrocities of the Hamas. We as a nation have a right and a duty to defend our citizens,” she said and prodded them to offer their own thoughts in a well-reasoned opinion composition.
In those first weeks we were barely turning the news off throughout the day, and the piece airing just then, happened to show how anti-Semitic, hate propaganda is taught systematically to the children in Gaza. The difference was so striking it almost felt staged. I was simultaneously sad for my son and the young generation who have to engage in such a complex reality – and yet immeasurably proud to belong to a country that holds human life so precious that we risk our own safety and freedom to protect innocent civilians in Gaza while defending ourselves. And at the same time we educate our children to that end.
Two Expressions
The dental clinic visit and the children’s dichotomy bring to mind two expressions thrown around a lot currently in Israeli society: “Hatred for no reason” (sin'at hinam) and “Love for no reason” (ahavat hinam). In Genesis God promises Abraham that “in [him] all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Genesis 12:3). We know that the fulfillment of this verse is ultimately realized in the person of Yeshua who embodies entirely the expression “Love for no reason.”
The scenario here in the Middle East, here in southern Israel and Gaza; is impossible on every level, the suffering horrendous. However, the divine plan will not be deterred. Through Abraham’s seed all nations of the world will be blessed. The victory won on Calvary will be revealed.
Thank you for keeping us in your prayers!
Bringing Love to our Soldiers and the Displaced
Thank you for your warm and generous response in Israel's time of need. You have made it possible for Tents of Mercy to do so much already! To participate in our ongoing ministry to IDF soldiers and displaced Israeli families, please use the enclosed response card or the online donation options below.
