After a few strokes of the pencil, the features of St. John the Baptist, who was wearing an animal skin, began to emerge. John Munayer was working on the second icon under the supervision of Sister Marte of the Melkite Emmanuel Monastery in Bethlehem. The first is the face of Christ, which now adorns the room of this young Palestinian Christian who lives in Jerusalem’s mixed Jewish-Arab neighborhood of Abutol.
“In the second one, Sister Marthe said to me, ‘You need to do something related to your name. Which John do you want?’ I chose St. John the Baptist. , because he was a martyr for speaking out against the authorities of the time. If you are a Palestinian, speaking out means taking a risk.”
As with everything he does, Munayeh, 30, enjoys combining theology, spirituality, and above all, identity. Perhaps it’s because he himself is at a crossroads. He was born in Jerusalem to a Palestinian father, an Israeli citizen and Orthodox Christian, and an Anglican mother, and was educated along with his three brothers at a Jewish school in Israel. Although he calls himself an “ecumenist,” he has recently felt the need to reconnect with his Orthodox roots. Having grown up in a multicultural environment, it was only natural for him to study international relations and then theology abroad before joining the Lossing Center for Educational Dialogue, an interreligious dialogue organization in Jerusalem. was.
“It is our moral responsibility as Christians to fight injustice.”
With one foot in each world, Munaer was deeply shaken after October 7, when he faced what he described as a “genocide” in Gaza. But his faith and principles helped him navigate the situation through the lens of liberation theology. “The Christian response to all this is very clear. This must be recognized and condemned. We need to do what we can at our level to help. It is Christians who fight injustice It is our moral responsibility.”
In the face of escalating violence, doubt still creeps into the minds of Munayyar’s community. “We are led to wonder so many things, seeking some semblance of hope to find an incentive to stay,” the young man whispers. Some of those around him left the country, discouraged by the hardships and lack of prospects. Nevertheless, he remained attached to his land, driven by his faith. “My role is to be here as a Christian who fights for justice, dialogue, and reconciliation, and seeks to build a better future for all.”
“Our parents taught us to take action instead of sitting still.”
In addition to his full-time work as Director of International Engagement at the Lossing Center, Mr. Munayer has prepared a dissertation on Palestinian Christian identity and theology, worked on a two-book project, and given classes and lectures. . Meanwhile, he is involved with various young Christians and groups. When asked if he feels overwhelmed with responsibility, he smiles. “It’s a form of activity. Our parents taught us to take action and not sit still.”
Periods of conflict bring instability and moral uncertainty, but they also bring change and rays of hope. As the Orthodox Church prepares to celebrate Easter on May 5, Munayer said, “Good Friday celebrates Jesus, persecuted, abandoned by his loved ones, and a victim of the oppression of an occupying empire and religious authorities.” It is the day when Easter is resurrection, and it is a message that it is Easter.” In Empire, there is no final word, hope always exists and hope does the right thing. ”
Nevertheless, this young theologian believes that we should not rush into thinking about the resurrection. “Good Friday and Sunday, from the Cross to the Resurrection, pass so quickly that we forget Saturday. Yet we live through it and understand what this dark and hopeless day means. It’s important if we want to avoid ignoring or glorifying injustice, “suffering” or justifying violence. ”
His inspiration comes from the words he heard from his father: “Show love to your neighbor.” “I was young at the time, but it stuck with me. In everyday life, when I want to know if I am doing something right or wrong, I ask myself: “Is this blessing our neighbors?” Blessing our neighbors here in the Holy Land means speaking out, rather than using violence to achieve our goals, and calling them out from their own oppression. It also means to be freed from. ”
