FIRST HOSTAGES RELEASED – humanity has finally triumphed… or has it?
SELECTIVE COMPASSION
Let’s be brutally honest. If we celebrated the release of the three Israeli hostages, abducted by Hamas nearly 500 days ago, but neglected to celebrate the release of 69 Palestinian women and 21 Palestinian children who were held under administrative detention in the notorious Damon prison in Israel for more than six months, we suffer from a spiritual ailment called “SELECTIVE COMPASSION.”
Yes, we all rejoiced when Romi Gonen, Emily Damari and Doron Steinbrecher were reunited with their families and loved ones. And rightly so. Their respective ordeals are beyond human comprehension, and we rejoice that they got the attention, the exposure, the coverage, and the empathy that they deserved.
But what about the innocent Bara’a Al-Fuqha, a 22-year-old medical student at Al-Quds University in East Jerusalem who spent the past six months in the notorious Damon Prison in Israel? Maybe this is the first time you even hear her name. She was held under administrative detention — a policy of indefinite imprisonment without formal charge or trial that Israel almost exclusively uses against Palestinians. Al-Fuqha describes her conditions in Israeli prison as “terrible,” with little access to sanitation, food and water. Does Al-Fuqha not deserve the same compassion from the Western world that Romi, Emily and Doron deserve? And what about the other “invisible” 10,400 Palestinians currently in Israeli prisons? Or have we predetermined in our minds and in our hearts who are deserving of God’s grace and who are eligible of our compassion?
Western media carried the pictures and names of Romi, Emily and Doron on every front page. Their names were mentioned in Synagogues and Churches. Christians gave a prayer of relief as three innocent girls, who became collateral damage to political leaders and their quest for power, were given their freedom. To finally see the relief and joy, not only of the families but the whole community, stirred the hearts of every onlooker. Humanity has finally triumphed… or has it?
Sadly, only selective humanity has triumphed. Only selective compassion has penetrated the hearts of Western believers. While the three Israeli girls became household names, it is nearly impossible to find the names or pictures of the 21 children, the youngest one 15 years old, who spent the last several months of their lives in Israeli prisons. They were released too, but the Western world didn’t take notice and didn’t rejoice because “they” were part of “them”
True compassion should know no boundaries.
IN-GROUP BIAS
Selective compassion is a multifaceted psychological phenomenon influenced by various factors. One of the major factors is IN-GROUP BIAS, which refers to our tendency to favour individuals who belong to the same group as us. This bias can lead to heightened empathy and compassion towards members of our own religious, social, cultural, or ethnic group, while reducing our ability to empathize with those who are different.
Many Christians view Israel as their Biblical ancestors and would therefore be partial in their compassion at the expense of those outside this religious framework.
Another factor contributing to selective empathy is confirmation bias. This bias is our tendency to seek information that confirms our existing beliefs or biases, while disregarding or dismissing information that challenges them. When we engage in selective empathy, we may unconsciously seek narratives and experiences that align with our preconceived notions, reinforcing our existing biases and further limiting our capacity for empathy.
THE UNBIASED SAMARITAN
When we take an honest look at how Christians responded to the different scenarios in Israel and Gaza, we have to admit that we have Hollywoodized compassion and neglected our neighbour. And this takes us to the parable of the GOOD SAMARITAN.
Few parables in scripture apply as perfectly to the situation in Gaza and at the same time have been represented so unbiblically as the story of the Good Samaritan. We have created a charming narrative of the charity of the good Samaritan instead of addressing the question of selective compassion once we identify who our neighbour is. Even the secular world adapted this biblical term and will refer to someone as a “good Samaritan” when a good deed is performed. This was, however, never the intent of the message Christ conveyed. He answered the question “Who is my neighbour?”, not “What is charity?”.
This parable was supposed to be a transformational bias burster, not a moral affirmation of doing good. The message was never about what charity looks like but what your neighbour looks like.
Two thousand years ago this was not a lesson in morality that the religious leaders of Israel appreciated. Just like modern-day Christianity when you dare stand up for the victims of an Israeli genocide. This would have been an X-rated story in a community that lived and operated in firm religious bubbles. Samaritans were outcasts, just like Palestinians are today. Just one chapter earlier the disciples wanted to pray thunder and destruction over the Samaritans. They were despised, to say the least. They were not supposed to be the heroes of any story. They were not even supposed to feature in a story. The religious law and practices of the priests and Levites promoted a discriminatory view that divided and segregated people. And then Jesus makes the Palestinian the hero. How utterly absurd. Why? Because the Samaritan’s actions were guided by an inclusive view that embraced reconciliation and love. While the “truth” of the Jews existed, it failed entirely when tested outside their bubbles of prejudice.
Sounds familiar? No better modern-day example can be found than the plight of the Palestinians of Gaza, lying along the road, bruised, beaten and battered. Who cares if they share the hardship in Israeli prisons. What Christians Pastor will stop and attend to the needs of Bara’a Al-Fuqha while we prayed for Romi Gonen, Emily Damari and Doron Steinbrecher. After all, they deserve it, don’t they?
Our response to this statement may just have revealed something about our perspective—like the priest, Levite or Samaritan. Our bias bubbles and preconceptions are often transparent to others, even if we try to hide them.
You see, Jesus didn’t offer any condemnation or judgment for the robbers. He didn’t point fingers at the evil of the bandits. He did not explore the cause of suffering but instead, the way of healing. His modern-day version would not condemn Islam, Hamas, Israel or the IDF. The concern of Christ is not the perpetrator but the victim[1].
Today, two thousand years later, the setting seems similar as Gazans suffer beyond understanding. Religious leaders, Christians and politicians, observe the devastation, quote scripture, shrug their shoulders, and carry out their religious obligations. Ironically, their zeal for fulfilling the laws of Moses made them break the laws of Christ.
SO, WHERE ARE YOU TODAY LOOKING AT GAZA?
The Good Samaritan symbolizes the heart of God towards ALL people, regardless of who we are, where we come from, our social status, religious background or political views. He was not good because he helped—he was good because he stepped outside the limits of his bubble to discover a neighbour who others saw as an inconvenience.
This story demonstrates God’s sacrificial love, care and compassion for those who are suffering. God’s heart and desire is for us to prioritize reflecting His compassion for others, over any differences we may have. His love for people is indiscriminate, and He calls us to love in the same way.
The “truth” we cling to in our bubbles often prevents us from extending compassion, but it doesn’t let us off the hook. Nevertheless, we can take comfort in the fact that we are not responsible for deciding who deserves our mercy. We never have to bear the burden of judging another person’s worthiness incorrectly.
It doesn’t require looking out the window of our bubbles very long to realize we are all on a road somewhere between Jerusalem and Jericho right now. It’s dangerous out there. The heartbreak and exhaustion are real. It’s not only refugees. It’s everything. It’s layers and layers of being beaten and bruised along a dry, hard road.
[1] Psalms 140:12 (MSG) I know that you, God, are on the side of victims, that you care for the rights of the poor.