An Unexpected Prayer
On our last evening on this trip as a group, we joined thousands of Jews worldwide to recite the Shema, as part of an international call to prayer for the people of Israel. The Shema is Judaism’s foundational prayer. Translated as “Hear O’ Israel, The Lord our God, The Lord is One,” it reminds us of our unity as a people — and our binding connection to all of humanity.
Jews around the world were asked to recite this prayer at the same exact time together as a sign of solidarity with Israel and hope for peace. Though we are thousands of miles away in Congo, we have been closely following the troubling and tragic news coming out of Israel. I have scores of close friends and family now in the midst of the conflict. I think of and pray for them every day.
Remarkably, this was the second time we’d joined together to recite the Shema while in Congo.
The day before, we had joined the end of a day-long youth leadership conference hosted by our partners Esther and Camille Ntoto at Un Jour Nouveau. After a very emotional day of testimonies and difficult conversations, Esther and Camille had arranged for a concert so that the youth could get a reprieve from the heavier events that morning.
Esther told us that among the heartbreaking stories shared earlier that day was one of a young woman who had been raped by members of an armed group after her husband was killed in front of her. Horrifically, the men then forced to eat her husband’s genitals — even as they moved on to prey on her two daughters. Some years later, when she spoke out about her rape, she was raped again by two men in retribution for her publicly calling out her perpetrators. Her parents refused to allow her to see her child (born of the rapes), calling her a “sorceress.” Esther described how the hundreds of young women, men and staff present sobbed as the young woman shared her story.
Incredibly, one man from the same community as this young woman stood up and asked for forgiveness on behalf of their community. A local leader of their community promised her that he would work with her parents to bring her back into the fold of the community and reunite her with her children. Another man from the same tribe as the two who raped her asked for forgiveness on behalf of his community as well. Throughout this exchange, Esther told us there was persistent wailing, screaming and crying. The raw outpouring of emotions and reliving of trauma had hit home for everyone there. The mourning was communal.
Our group arrived just after this incident and right at the beginning of the concert, which featured spiritual Congolese songs and performances. Everyone was standing, clapping, swaying, singing and praying. The entire group of nearly 250 young people sang together– some with tears in their eyes, others holding the person next to them– songs about spirituality, God and hope.
And then I heard something familiar. The lead performer sang the words Shema, followed by Adonai and Eloheinu (both Hebrew words that translate to “God”).
I thought to myself, are they singing in Hebrew? Are they singing the Shema?
I listened more closely. Indeed they were. The words of this beautiful soft, slow, melodic spiritual rang out through the tent. Everyone sang together. I looked around the room and saw everyone with their eyes closed, hands held high in the air. I made eye contact with a 13-year-old boy that I’d met the day before, when we had visited the JWW-funded Generation Hope program. He had tears streaming down his face, but he smiled and nodded to me.
So, I closed my eyes and began to sing with them. Those same words that I’d been reciting for 38 years took on a very different meaning on that day. Esther explained, in Congo, the prayer is translated as “God Listens.” It was a song not only about faith, but also about hope. A promise that despite the many traumatic events experienced by those in the conference, there is hope for a better future through their faith in God and commitments as the next generation of Congo’s leaders.
It was clear to me that these young leaders see faith, community and their commitment to building a better Congo as integral to not only to Congo’s development, but also to their own recovery.
So, when we sang the Shema as a group the other night in solidarity with Israel, thinking about our friends and families affected by the conflict, the words were that much more powerful. Surely every time I recite those words, I will remember my experience in that tent. If Congo’s people can believe that God is listening to their cries and make choices to change society in honor of this God, then how can we not be moved to help?
Our foundational prayer calls us to listen — to all of humanity — and to respond.