​

It's easy to say that you are impartial.



You haven't openly mocked or abused someone who you deemed lower than yourself. You enjoy people of many races, and don't discriminate based on gender or age. Good for you. But are you really impartial?



I am so struck by the combined writing of my co-workers: "The Power of No Partiality"



I have come to understand the word "partiality" in a far deeper sense than the mere definition. And regardless of any disillusions I may have had about my own impartiality, the fact is: I'm guilty.



"[No partiality is] a revelation for every poor, marginalized, outcast or forgotten family that crosses the borders of Israel with us seeking heart surgery for their child.  'They treated our child just like an Israeli child--no difference!' These families have never before been valued simply for being human, made in the image of God. It's always been about money, power and connections."



Simply for being human.



This is Israel, after all. Racial, social, and religious partiality abounds--or does it? The hospitals in Tel Aviv continue to dumbfound strangers from Gaza and Iraq as their children are cared for and valued as human life in a way their own people never have. The father of Baneen (the baby girl who died recently) said, "Israelis and Americans have stood with us more than our own people. This is not what we heard [in Iraq]. This touches my heart." But we can't just stop there and give ourselves a pat on the back...



All the warm fuzzies are wrenched out of me with the words of James:

"My brothers, do not hold the faith of our Lord Jesus the Messiah, the Lord of glory, with partiality. For if there should come into your assembly a man with gold rings, in fine apparel, and there should also come in a poor man in filthy clothes, and you pay attention to the one wearing the fine clothes and say to him, 'You sit here in a good place,' and say to the poor man, 'You stand there,' or 'Sit here at my footstool,' have you not shown partiality among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?"



Sure, I'm not partial. I get along with everybo...well except I was kind of grossed out by the homeless guy who came to our church. Who would blame me? He smelled bad. Oh and there is one person I work with that I try to avoid. I'm not mean to her, but if she's the one working on a project, let's just say, I don't volunteer to help her--she's kind of annoying. WHAT AM I SAYING? I'm the most partial person on the planet. Partiality doesn't just exist in race and gender. It also exists in the annoying, the smelly, the ADD, the weird, and on and on and on. Who doesn't want all their friends to be pretty, and articulate, and smart, and just the right shape and size in every way? And who decides what that means?



I am so. so. so. GUILTY. It's shameful. I have my preference for the people I like, and the rest, I don't insult or abuse....I just don't go out of my way to include them.



Impartiality is a super power. And it takes so much strength to use. Not only in how we love our Kurdish families--though they may be boisterous and demanding at times--but also in how we love and include. Jean val Jean was a life transformed because a bishop didn't slam the door in the face of a criminal like all the rest. Would you invite an ex-con into your house for dinner? Or what about the girl who has acne on her face and a stutter in her voice? Do you invite her to your group outing? Impartiality is a super power that unleashes it's true potential---by including. Including is a hard thing to do.



Day in and day out in my life in Jerusalem, prejudice is being shattered by saving children with heart surgery. But is it sinking in? Is it changing me? Can I honestly witness Sunnis and Shiites and Jews all crying over the same baby,  and then turn my nose up to the girl who says "like" too much? Or the boy who has Down's Syndrome?



Impartiality is a super power. Sometimes I have it. Sometimes I really don't.



Do you have it?



​