A Modern Miracle \ Goren Gordon

During the riots in the west bank a miracle has happened. No one believed that was possible in this era, but everyone prayed for it. It wasn't as spectacular as miracles go, but its simplicity and elegance showed God's greatness.

It was a miracle of good faith and love. In other times it wouldn't have been considered a miracle, but Elijah's rise to the heaven wouldn't have been considered a miracle today, now would it?

The year was 2000 and the middle-east was ready to explode in flames. Hatred nurtured from birth on both sides matured into acts of heinous violence. Huge groups of teenagers massed and collided in events that resembled medieval times, just clashes of masses, wanting to hurt each other, but somewhat restraining. The restraint was slowly fading and an all out war was a probable outcome.

Israeli soldiers shooting at groups of Palestinian children was a shocking, yet common sight. Arab masses storming Israeli innocents and murdering them was a frequent event. Political executions were an everyday event and no end to the violence could be seen. The situation deteriorated when His name was raised on both sides and the religious wars of the past showed their ugly faces again.

The pessimist believers began to call these times 'Judgment Day' as the massacres of hundreds were shown on TV. The holy land was immersed in hatred and violence and the place of God began to turn red from its 'worshipers' blood.

The optimist believers were few. Actually only two existed and God Himself had shown them the light. He has revealed to them the future if nothing would change and they were horrified. 'What can I do?' they asked individually, but in their heart they knew the answer. They also knew the risk they had had to take and the sacrifice they must make. However, their way was God's benevolent way and nor His wrath as the fadayun has believed. 'I have seen Man's true heart and it is corrupted. It had strayed from the course I laid down to him thousands of years ago. He knows the way, as you do, but unlike you he does not wish to abate his hatred, to abandon his evil emotions and thoughts, to accept all my believers as equals, made in my form. You will show them the bright path. Whether they will follow, that is up to them.'

The two burst in tears for their Lord's anguished voice and for humanity's future, but rose bravely and accepted their fate. Their faith was untouchable and their mission was now clear.

In the west bank, a platoon of Israeli soldiers was gathering to restrain a mob of young children that came to protest against the foreign occupation. The soldiers were ordered to shoot and kill anyone that breaks the 'peaceful' nature of the demonstration. It was obvious to all sides that the number of casualties would be grave. Television crews were amassed nearby to document the upcoming massacre with sad hearts and hungry eyes.

The mob of children began to advance toward the soldiers, while dark clouds were gathering above, as if symbolizing the imminent night human kind faced. Each child was holding a stone or a Molotov bottle, some even held live guns. The soldiers were in formation and to-the-death combat was about to begin. A young Palestinian kid advanced and, not knowing what his act really meant, threw a stone at the soldiers. A shot was heard and the playful kid went down, bleeding from his abdomen. The shootout was imminent, but suddenly, from amongst the soldiers, a jewish settler, wearing his kipah, talit and plain clothes marched toward the wounded kid. Unarmed, the believer strode confidently, facing the Moslem crowd and bent to treat the child. Shouts from the soldiers were urging him to come back for they could not shoot their lifelong enemies while he was in their way. Palestinian kids were rushing to seize this courageous yet stupid jew who came to them, unarmed. However, in this act of faith and hivalry, all sides took no action. The TV cameramen shot the scene that would change the world.

Israeli armed forces on one side and a Palestinian mob on the other, the jewish believer raised the muslem child in his arms, leaned his own head backward and shouted. 'Elokim, give me the strength to heal this child. Show thy mercy upon this innocent youth, so that these people will believe. Teach them the love you have given to their ancestors, so they could return to the right path once more. Show them the cost of their hatred and the price of their anger. Unveil their minds, so they could have faith in You and in themselves once more. Let them know the true virtues You have bestowed upon us: Love, compassion, mercy and above all, forgiveness. This bloodshed had begun at Yom-Kipur, the day of attonement. They have lasted for too long. Allow them to make another atonement. Give them the opportunity to ask forgiveness from their brethren and from You. Forgive them, my Lord, for they have lost the path. Let this child be the symbol of their return to Your ways. Forgive them, my Lord, for they want forgiveness. Amen.' The prayer was heard throughout the town, each person listening knew what it meant, and upon understanding, weeped. The prayer was conveyed to the world as the camera kept rolling. Suddenly, one dark cloud evaporated and a single bright ray of light touched the bleeding child. The blood stopped running and the child coughed. Opening his eyes, he saw the believer's face, with his thick black beard and blue and white kipah, smiled and hugged him strongly, as if he was his murdered father. Seeing this scene, every heart around the world melted, and every mind, no matter how clouded by prejudice, racism and false believes had seen the light.

No, not everybody, for in Ramala, they had no television and the hatred there was older and fiercer. The Israeli there were fighting inside their country and the arabs were venting their anger of fifty years of oppression. An arab mob has stormed a civilian bus and captured twenty five Israeli citizens, mostly women and children, old people and a single youth, frightened by this horrifying event. The mob grabbed the people and carried them on the ground, bruising and hurting them along the way. Shouting the name of Allah as their highest judge, they marched the people toward the main city street where a stake was quickly erected. Positioning the jewish families on the stage, the Israeli muslems prepared to shoot them in cold blood.

As they were aiming their rifles toward the victims, a young muslem girl marched forward. Her angry father was trying to grab her, for women were not allowed to participate in these acts, but a harsh stare backed by a faithful soul made him release his grip. As the orders to shoot were forming in the arab leader's hateful mind, the muslem lady climbed to the stage. She stared at the jewish's frightened faces and focused on the youth's handsome and proud appearance. She walked to him, accompanied by shouts of blasphemy from her family, friends and neighbors. Holding his arm in hers, she faced the angry mob, her faith alone preventing her from fainting. 'Are you so hateful as to not see that these people are our kindred ? Are your minds so filled with anger not to hear these families' tears are the same as ours ? Look at this young man. Could he not be my brother ? Does his belief make him so different than us ? Open up your minds and hearts. Hear these people cries and they wil hear yours. Heal their wounds and our body will stop bleeding. Give them mercy and together peace will come. You speak of Allah as a vengeful god. He is merciful and compassionate, not hateful and murderous. Read our holy book and read theirs. Allah is the one true God, but he is theirs also. Put you faith in Allah, and he will give us peace. Return to the rightful way and He will give us prosperity. Love thy neighbor and these things will be yours forever. Hear me, as I have heard Him. Follow me into the light and Allah will give us peace.' Moved by her harsh words, and amazed by her extraordinary courage and faith, the mob laid down their weapons and jopined the world, marching together into a new era.