As Christmas approaches, NILS VON KALM reflects on what being born into a life of privilege means when there remains such injustice in the world…
As we come up to the celebration of the arrival of the Prince of Peace into the world, I am reminded that the circumstances of His birth were poles apart from my own.
As I write this, I am sitting in my hotel room in Gaza City in the Middle East. Looking out from my balcony over the beautiful Gaza coast, I have to remind myself that I am a free man in the world’s largest prison. The 1.8 million inhabitants of Gaza are trapped in their own land, stateless and without hope for a future because of the crushing weight of oppression from neighbouring Israel, which controls Gazan air and maritime space.
“WORLD’S LARGEST PRISON”: Nils von Kalm looked out over Gaza as he pondered the circumstances of those who live there – and the contrast with his own life.
“As I reflect on Gaza from the comfort of my hotel room, I am reminded that I have never been driven to anger so intense as to want to resort to such violence. It is through an accident of birth that I was born in one of the richest countries in the world, in one of the richest times in history, in what has repeatedly been ranked the world’s most liveable city. It is another accident of birth that most Palestinians were born into oppression.”
I am well aware that many readers, particularly many evangelicals, will protest at my apparent singling out of Palestinian oppression while ignoring the violence committed by Palestinians against Israel. The fact is that violence of any kind is not acceptable, no matter who commits it. One needs however to understand the context in which Palestinians live.
Here are some more facts about Gaza:
• The unemployment rate is 41 per cent;
• It is the third most densely-populated region in the world;
• Electricity is only available for about six hours each day. You look around at night and most of the buildings are dark;
• The UN has stated that, if present trends continue, Gaza could be uninhabitable by 2020 – that’s just four years away; and,
• Most Palestinians cannot leave Gaza because of Israel’s control of its air and maritime space.
History shows that when people are oppressed over long periods of time, when they are trodden on and denied their God-given dignity, and when they are given the message that they are not as worthy as their oppressors, they will eventually rise up and revolt. This is not to condone violence by any means, but it is to explain it. There is a big difference. Martin Luther King, Jr, that great man of peace, said that riots are the language of the unheard.
As I reflect on Gaza from the comfort of my hotel room, I am reminded that I have never been driven to anger so intense as to want to resort to such violence. It is through an accident of birth that I was born in one of the richest countries in the world, in one of the richest times in history, in what has repeatedly been ranked the world’s most liveable city. It is another accident of birth that most Palestinians were born into oppression (six-year-olds in Gaza have experienced three wars in their lifetimes. How does anyone cope with that, let alone a six-year-old?). As U2 say in their song, Crumbs From Your Table, “Where you live should not decide whether you live or whether you die.”
Jesus came so that people like those in Gaza would be able to live out their potential as image-bearers of the Creator. When He was born, it was announced that He had come to bring peace on Earth and goodwill to all. Part of that involves our call to participate in making this a reality in today’s world.
Another privilege I have is that of getting paid to do just that. My job involves speaking in churches about a response to global poverty within a Christian context. When I speak I sometimes point out the following:
• Every second child in the world lives in poverty;
• 1.6 billion people – about a quarter of humanity – live without electricity; and,
• 12 per cent of the world’s population uses 85 per cent of its water, and these 12 per cent do not live in the majority poor world.
Then, to make the contrast, at the end of my talk, I usually make the point that I am a white, middle-class male living in one of the richest countries in the world. I have never known what it is to live in poverty. I have never known what it is to not know where my next meal is coming from. I have a job I enjoy, I live in a safe, comfortable home and I can pretty much buy anything I want.
When I found out that my job was taking me to the Middle East, I thought that, while I’m in that part of the world, I might visit family and friends in Germany. I also wanted to visit Rome and Liverpool but wondered if I had time to do both. What to do? Rome or Liverpool? Or could I actually do both? It suddenly hit me how preposterous it was that I was in a position to decide whether I would visit different cities in different parts of the world, just because I can.
Who am I that I have been given such privilege? I have done nothing whatsoever to deserve this, yet I get to live a life that millions can only dream of and envy.
Bono, who wrote the above-mentioned song, has said that he wants to use his fame as currency to give back to the world. I feel the same way about my privilege. I have been given so much more than most people in history. Australian preacher John Smith once said that there is nothing we have that has not been given to us. I have been given a heck of a lot and the least I can do is give some of that to others who didn’t happen to be born into the abundance that I have.
There is so much injustice in this world, and no one is deserving of it. At this time of year when we celebrate the birth of Jesus, we remember that He too was born into injustice. I, though, was born into privilege. The words of this same Jesus in Luke 12:48 are a constant challenge to me. I have been given much. Through an accident of birth, I pledge to make life better for people whose accident hasn’t turned out like mine.
