A Religious Reprimand

I’m curious to know how many have noticed that I haven’t written much about religion on this blog. If you’re wondering, rest assured that the silence isn’t an indication of danger; no one’s going to throw me in jail for mentioning Jesus in Jordan. Frankly, I’ve just had lots of other things to write about. 

And although that is still the case, I want to make a conscious effort to write more about religion in the upcoming months: about Christians in the Middle East, about inter-faith relations in Jordan, about the role of faith at this school, and about my day-to-day experiences of being a committed Christian living in a Muslim-majority context.

...So, where to begin? A story, of course... 

Supervising the children on the playground. I strike up a conversation with a stick of a 14-year-old boy named Hamzeh. He’s one of my favorites here, because he’s one of the only students who I’ve never had to reprimand. Around half a minute into our conversation, Hamzeh asks me if I am a Muslim or a Christian (a question that quite a few students have asked me). I tell him that I am a Christian. 

With a slight smile that hints at a jest, Hamzeh says, “I don’t like Christians.” 

Then he walks away. 

The smile is only somewhat comforting. Although I am fairly confident that my friendship with Hamzeh hasn’t actually been affected, I cannot help but be disconcerted by his response. 

Ten seconds later, an 18-year-old female student, a Muslim, approaches me. Her expression is stern. She tells me to follow her.

And together, we follow Hamzeh. Once we catch up to him, she taps him on the shoulder -- powerfully, with her whole hand. It’s more of a slap, actually. 

When he turns around to see who tap-slapped him, this 18-year-old girl launches into a fearsome tirade. Due to its speed and ferocity, I only understand a few signs: Muslim, Christian, friends, normal, shame on you, and tell him you’re sorry.

(Side-note: the successful performance of such rants, whether spoken or signed, seems to be a rite of passage into Arab womanhood.) 

Smothered, the poor boy apologizes. Flustered, I eagerly forgive. Satisfied, the young woman dismisses us both.