The Cavalier Daily
Serving the University Community Since 1890

Praying for peaceful Holy Land

IT'S LIKE the national Catholic anthem this time of year. Every Sunday, four weeks in a row, right before Christmas, Catholic churches everywhere will sing "O Come All Ye Faithful." Families have huge meals of ham and turkey and brightly colored cookies. Ornaments adorn twinkling Christmas trees - symbols of "evergreen" life. Children eat candy canes - hooks shaped like a shepherd's staff and decorated in white and red to symbolize the pure whiteness of Christ's birth and the blood shed at his crucifixion. At mass a priest lights the next candle on the Advent wreath, and one more week will be marked off the long wait for a special birthday that occurred long ago in a land far, far away.

That land is at the moment immersed in a bloody civil war. Twenty days from Christmas, a time that is supposed to provide "peace on earth, good will to men," over three hundred people have died in months of senseless violence - violence that shows no signs of stopping.

This land is shared by at least two other religions, and both are celebrating ancient miracles this time of year.

It was in this month, many years ago, when the Koran was first revealed to Mohammed, says fourth-year student Mazen Basrawi. The month is one of fasting, piety and reflection for Muslims, marked by heavy midnight meals called Sahur and late-night prayers. At dawn, all snacking stops until sundown, when the fast is broken with dates and milk. Eid al-fitr, a three-day feast, marks the beginning of the new month. One day of the last ten of Ramadan is the "night of power," when angels and souls are sent down from heaven, and forgiveness and peace descend upon the land. The date of this special night is kept secret, however, to prevent part-time piety.

A third faith happens to control - at least officially - the region kept sacred by all three of these religions, and also celebrates a miracle in December. Hanukkah represents eight days of light, according to third-year student Shula Warren. In ancient times, Jews cleaning the Temple in Jerusalem after a battle with Syrians discovered a small cruse of oil expected to last one night. To their relief and amazement, the light lasted for eight days and nights - enough time to find undefiled oil to keep the temple lights burning.

Celebrants eat what Warren describes as "jelly donuts," soofganiyot, and potato latkes. Tradition suggests eating foods cooked in oil and playing games like spinning the dreidel. Children spin the top, which says "a great miracle happened there," and play for candy or Hanukkah gelt, coin-shaped chocolate wrapped in gold foil.

Three hundred funerals from both sides of the battle lines have put a significant damper on the holidays for those who are closely tied to the ancient land. Now is a traditional time for many Diaspora Jews to return to Israel and for Christians to make pilgrimages to Jerusalem and Bethlehem; many of those vacations have been cancelled. This time of "peace on earth" has been marred by pain.

Now is the time to look more closely at the themes behind a time of giving for all three groups. Each one has hope in its traditions, from the "night of power" for Muslims to the lighting of the menorah for Jews to the spirit of giving for Christians. All three agree that the birthday celebrated Dec. 25 brought into this world a great man - a prophet for Jews and Muslims and a savior for Christians who brought a new sense of understanding to the world.

If there is a greater scheme at work, cramming all three of these faiths into two square miles of holy sites had to be part of it. The fact that all three celebrate holidays of thanks at the same time may or not be a coincidence. Either way, now is not the time for fighting about it. Now is the time to learn about and respect each other's traditions.

Once in the ancient days there was a family farm. Ownership of the farm passed when the father gave a golden ring to his son, but one father had three sons, all equally loved. As the time came for him to pass the family treasure on, he found he could not choose between the three. One morning, each son woke up very excited to find the golden ring on his pillow, and ran to tell his brothers. Each insisted that he had the real ring, but try as they might, they couldn't find proof. They went to their father, confused. "My sons," he said, "I love you all so that I wanted each of you to share in the riches of our farm. Love each other, take care of our home, and pass it on to your children's children." How have we done?

(Emily Harding's column appears Wednesdays in The Cavalier Daily.)

Comments

Latest Podcast

From her love of Taylor Swift to a late-night Yik Yak post, Olivia Beam describes how Swifties at U.Va. was born. In this week's episode, Olivia details the thin line Swifties at U.Va. successfully walk to share their love of Taylor Swift while also fostering an inclusive and welcoming community.