Review: Daughters of Palestine

Cover image of "Daughters of Palestine" by Leyla R. King

Daughters of Palestine, Leyla R. King. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing (ISBN: 9780802884992) 2025.

Summary: A memoir of five generations of daughters of a Palestinian Christian family and a journey from Shafa ‘Amr to Texas.

For many Americans, when they hear the word “Palestinian” think “Arab” and “Muslim.” However while all Palestinians are Arabic, not all are Muslims. For centuries, there have been vibrant Palestinian communities in the land that once bore the name “Palestine” before it became Israel. Palestinians lived throughout the land, not simply in the current Palestinian territories. The family in this memoir lived for several generations around Haifa, almost due west of the Sea of Galilee on the Mediterranean coast. First they lived in Shafa ‘Amr, and then in Haifa. Jews, Muslims, and Christians peacefully co-existed. Until the nakba, the Arabic word for “catastrophe.” Then many fled their homes or were forcibly displaced during the 1948 Arab-Israeli War.

This memoir came about when Leyla K. King, daughter of May, whose husband Joe was an American journalist, wanted to understand her Palestinian identity and her Palestinian family’s story. Her grandmother, Bahi, was still living, and she spent much of the summer one year recording her grandmother’s memories.

The story begins with Za’leh, Leyla’s great-great grandmother. She was widowed during the first World War when her husband died fighting for the Ottoman empire. After the war, the British arrived in the form of a protectorate. For Za’leh’s daughter Aniiseh, this meant education in British missionary schools. Then she was betrothed to Wadii. Bahi was her second daughter.

Much of the remainder of the story is Bahi’s story. After completing her schooling, she went to Teachers College in Ramallah. At her graduation, her mother gave her a necklace with a cross, to wear until she married. This necklace passed from one generation to the next. In 1948, Bahi married Fariid. They returned briefly to Haifa after their honeymoon, then fled. She recounts their life first in Damascus and then Beirut. As refugees, they struggled to find trust among fellow Christians as well as their Muslim neighbors. Among their children was a daughter May.

May met Joe, an American journalist, during her studies at the American University in Beirut. Again, it was a marriage in the midst of war. They had to flee the country, and eventually the family, including Bahi, located in Houston. Leyla was Joe and May second child. The final generation of daughters in this story is Leyla’s daughter Beatrice.

More than an intergenerational family story, it is a story of deepening faith through trial. The story has a fabric of faith woven through it, sometimes weaker, sometimes, especially in trial, strengthened. It is also a story of displacement, and seeking home. Bahi, upon becoming a U.S, citizen says:

“It was the wish of my heart to be an American. My prayers had been answered. I thank God always for this country; may God protect this country that accepted us and adopted us, for where else would we go? As Palestinian Christians, no one else accepted us. No one wanted us. So America became our homeland and I pray to God, ‘Please, God, please, God keep this country the land of plenty.’ This finally, is where we belonged. This country is our home.”

The whole book was a moving story of a family trusting God and seeking a home. Bahi’s prayer deeply touched me. The thought occurred to me that when we turn away refugees, we turn away many who would have blessed us with their prayers as well as their love for their new home. And I wonder if the greater loss is ours.

_______________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher for review.

Review: The Asylum Seekers

Cover image of "The Asylum Seekers" by Cristina Rathbone

The Asylum Seekers, Cristina Rathbone. Broadleaf Books (ISBN: 9798889832010) 2025.

Summary: A priest lives with asylum seekers in Juarez, learning about what they fled, the community they built, and their faith.

Why would you leave home, community, livelihood? Why would you make a costly and perilous journey to the Mexican-American border for the uncertain opportunity to apply for asylum? This is a mental exercise I wonder if many on the American side of the border have ever engaged. So I ask, what would it take for you to do this in your situation.

Cristina Rathbone, an Episcopal priest, lived for close to a year in 2019 and early 2020 on the border, spending her days with the growing community of asylum seekers in Juarez. The Rio Grande and a bridge were not all that separated them from El Paso, and the United States. She learned why they came there. In general, they were fleeing gangs and cartels threatening their lives. In some cases they’d already lost a family member. Others had been threatened with death. Some wanted to save their children from choosing between life in a cartel and certain death. Up to 80 percent of the women had been sexually assaulted during their journey to Juarez. Many had spent fortunes on the journey.

Rathbone, a former journalist, had completed a parish assignment in Boston. Her mother’s family had immigrated from Cuba, and so she had some sense of what was stake, and felt it was time for her to see what she could do, and more importantly, what she could learn. In Boston, she had worked in a people-centered, community-based ministry among the homeless. And that is what she set out to do in Juarez. Very quickly, she came to struggle with the futility of her efforts. So many people. And border officials, acting for higher powers, who wanted to admit as few as possible. She wanted to flee until climbing one of the mountains to pray, and looking across the valley, she spotted a silhouetted statue of Jesus.

“Oh my God. Not to stay would be to run away. This is what I knew, all of a sudden: not to stay now would be to run away from him. And tell me, please, what in the world would there be to do after running away from Jesus?”

And so she stayed. Listened to stories. Organized children to collect trash. Set up a school with several other volunteers. Eventually, it was suggested she accompany families up the bridge to the border checkpoint where they could request asylum. It was thought her presence might help some get through. More often, though, they heard that there was no room (even though she later learned there were ample facilities sitting empty). And so she walked back down the bridge with those families. Presence.

She chronicles how a mass of refugees formed a community. Selected leaders. Established a list of asylum seekers, an order the community followed. Shared resources. Organized celebrations. Then as some succeeded in gaining entrance, others stepped up to lead.

Rathbone describes the pressure to set up big programs and how funders, and even her host bishop struggled to understand the person-centered ministry she engaged in. She writes:

“Small, real things. Small, real things. This is what I kept trying to remember and to trust. Not big, impressive things but small, real things are the way to love–with, through, and for the other. Small not because we can’t be bothered but because we are small ourselves.”

Often, her struggle was with herself. For example, she wrestled with her anger toward immigration officials representing an intransigent government. Or she despaired as family after family returned, especially after a more stringent HARP program. This program centered around a “credible fear” interview. If asylum seekers could not convince interviewers of the danger to their lives, the U.S. refused asylum and sent them back. And they could not re-apply. Consequently, they either had to return to the danger they fled, or try to find refuge with relatives living elsewhere.

Rathbone’s narrative is one in which she is kept, sometimes barely, by the scriptures and prayer–and the resilient faith of asylum seekers. Eventually, she gets help from the diocese, so that she never makes the march up the bridge unaccompanied.

Reading this narrative saddens one with the lack of generosity and humanitarian feeling of our country, which has only worsened. Far from the caricatures of asylum seekers as criminals, the people we meet on these pages are people I want as neighbors. They show determination, resilience, courage, integrity, and faith. Rathbone’s account offers a different vision of asylum seekers–one that looks beyond the challenges of settlement to the gift asylum seekers can be to a country. Along with that, her account reminds us that central to ministry is simply being the presence of Christ with people. Without that, we are just brash, arrogant Americans.

____________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book for review from the publisher through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers Program.

Review: Refuge Reimagined

Refuge Reimagined, Mark R. Glanville and Luke Glanville, Foreword by Matthew Soerens. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2021.

Summary: A case for welcoming refugees based on the biblical ethic of kinship, and the responsibility of kin to provide a home for those who have none, with applications to the church, the nation, and the international community.

In 2019, 79.5 million people in the world had been forcibly displaced from their homes. Causes range from political and religious persecution, conflict, violence, human rights violations, and the breakdown of the rule of law. In 2020, the United States admitted just 11,814 of these people, less than the 18,000 places allotted. Similar numerical disparities exist in many countries while poorer neighbors often absorb higher numbers, many in refugee camps.

Faced with these great needs and the reality that sending many people back to their homes is a sentence to a quick or slow death, many countries are closing their borders to refugees, claiming they have more than enough to do caring for their own people. Many church communities support these restrictive policies, citing scriptures supporting the rule of law and even the idea that the passages about welcoming the alien and stranger apply only to “legal” immigrants.

The authors of this work are involved in a community, Kinbrace, in Vancouver providing refugee housing and support. Out of their careful reading of scripture and their experience, they argue that the biblical idea of providing kinship hospitality runs through scripture as God provides a home for Israel as slave-refugees and enjoins this hospitality with others, exemplified beautifully in the story of Ruth. In the New Testament, the story is one of reconciliation both to God and across all human boundaries. The shared table, feasting together as the family of God is a prominent symbol of that reality.

They then build on their biblical study to address three areas where kinship may be practiced. First is the church and they explore a variety of ways churches can practice this ethic in worship and welcome. Then they turn to nations. They consider what it is for nations to practice justice with refugees, and address the objections of maintaining national identity and the argument that scripture only requires care for those who enter the country “legally.” They show that no such biblical warrant exists. Finally, they address the climate of fear that tinges these discussions, reminding us in the words of Marilynne Robinson: “Fear is not a Christian habit of mind.” Finally they argue for an ethic of kinship in the global community, challenging the approach of political realism.

I found myself in full agreement with the biblical arguments of kinship, and particularly, their relevance to believing people who are called to “…welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God” (Romans 15:7, ESV). I was more troubled by the way in which it seemed they were calling on Christians to advocate with national governments and international bodies to do this. I would have liked to see more of the book devoted to addressing how churches and other organizations can fully prepare to become refugee welcoming communities. Instead of saying to governmental leaders, “we want you to open the borders to more refugees,” with the inference that federal, state, and local governments would bear the weight of this effort, imagine the reaction if church leaders came to government and said, “we have mobilized a network of 10,000 churches and organizations, who are trained and prepared according to best practices to welcome 100,000 refugees and integrate them into our local communities. We’re asking you to work with us to make that possible.”

There’s a lot of heavy lifting with this idea. But I don’t hear the authors discussing the heavy lifting we are asking governments to do, often against the political grain of their populace, to embrace a kinship ethic. I wonder if more hearts may be won by local communities across the country who are becoming known for their generous hospitality, in which others around them see how much fun they are having doing this, and how their communities are enriched by those they welcome, as they fill needed jobs, start businesses, and add the richness of their cultures to our towns and cities.

That said, the appeal to kinship, to expanding our boundaries of “neighbor,” and to trade our fears for the joy of the festive table is compelling. I suspect the beginning in many places are for groups to study and discuss this book, begin learning about groups like Kinbrace, who are involved in refugee work, and pray, dream, and work to mobilize the resources needed in their community. What I hope will arise are supporting structures without bureaucracy to amplify the efforts of these local groups through advocacy, training, and networking. It seems to me, given the magnitude of the crisis, which is likely to grow, that this kind of mobilization is key if we would extend the wings of refuge to more than just a token few.

____________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

Review: The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict: Tough Questions, Direct Answers

The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict: Tough Questions, Direct Answers
The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict: Tough Questions, Direct Answers by Dale Hanson Bourke
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The conflict between Israel and the Palestinians in Gaza has dominated the news in recent weeks. So I decided to pick up this book, which I had received a while back to explore more of the context for this conflict.

Warning: if you have taken a particular “side” in this conflict, this book, and maybe this review, is not for you. If there is any side the author would take, it is with those who seek a peace that is just and lasting for all parties. Rather, the book is designed as a fact book, organized in a question and answer format to help us understand the history of the region, the peoples, life among Israelis and Palestinians, and the nature of the conflict.

The book begins with a chapter titled “Who, What, Where?” answering questions about the geography, territories, and people. It is followed by a chapter titled, “In the Beginning” which traces the history of the land and its peoples back to their common Abrahamic roots. We learn for example that it is only in the last century that Jews and Arabs have been at war. We learn the meaning of terms like shoah, the Nakba, and intifada. The third chapter explores government and politics within Israel including both Israeli and Palestinian governance and how these interact.

Chapters 4 and 5 explore Israeli and Palestinian life respectively including the religious tensions among Jews and the dominance of Orthodox Judaism, minority groups like the Bedouin and the Druze, and the relationships of PLO, Palestinian Authority and Hamas in the West Bank, and Gaza. Chapter 6 discusses other players including other nations surrounding Israel such as Jordan, which has its own ambivalent relationship with the Palestinians. Chapter 7 summarizes the central issues of the conflict which come down to borders and security, Israeli settlements (in the West Bank), Palestinian refugees, and Jerusalem.

I found the book quite helpful in explaining the context of things we hear on our nightly news. It is also richly illustrated with color photographs, timelines, and charts. It also helped me understand why it is so difficult to reach a lasting peace accord, and why it is so vital to pray for the peace of Jerusalem, for Jews, for Christians (many of whom are Palestinian), and Muslims who share this land, and for the U.S., and other parties who provide both aid and peacemaking assistance. This book is part of a series of Skeptics Guides by the same author. The other two volumes in print are Responding to HIV/AIDS and Immigration.

View all my reviews