News about the internal rules of the Ontario legislature seldom make it into public notice, at least until this week when the Speaker of the Legislature ruled that the keffiyeh was banned from the legislative building. The Speaker shared that research indicates that the keffiyeh is less a cultural piece of clothing than it is a politically driven symbol. Follow the same research yourself and you will arrive at the finding that unlike the sari of the Indian culture, the áo dài of the Vietnamese, or the kilts of the Scotts, the keffiyeh has no deep cultural history. Some version of a scarf was worn only occasionally in the days of the violent, conquering Babylonians. But these weren’t called the keffiyeh and none bore the distinctive print that comes with it. It was during the Intifadas (“shaking off”) of 1987 and 2000 that the keffiyeh was used as a political symbol of the Palestinian fight against Jews. In fact, you would likely find more pictures of the late Yasser Arafat wearing a keffiyeh than you would see him without one. Strangely, this symbol of Palestinian struggle against Israel has been brought here to Ontario and in the very heart of the Ontario government, the legislature. Since then, there has been not one but two attempts to remove that ban, both of which failed. But why the heated battle here and now? The answer lies in what this week in fact represents. The “aha” moment comes when we realize that this Monday on the Jewish calendar was the beginning of the Passover, a holy time for Jews as they remember the release of Israel from slavery as described in the Book of Exodus. On the last night (the seventh day) of the Passover, the story of the release of God’s people from captivity is celebrated – the blood of the lamb that is painted against the doorposts and the angel of Death that passes by (thus the term “Passover”). In the New Testament, it is also the day of the death of Jesus on the cross, releasing all who trust in Him from the captivity of sin.
It struck me that this current struggle over wearing the keffiyeh in the Ontario legislature is less about “a freedom of cultural expression” than it is about making a statement. And what better time than during Passover to protest against Israel? After all, the October 7th attack was planned in the midst of the Jewish celebration of Sukkoth. Regardless of which side of the Palestinian debate we find ourselves on, it would be important not to miss the fact that whether it is the keffiyeh, or the Sukkoth, or the Passover, what we do, what we say and, yes, sometimes even what we wear inevitably makes a statement about what we believe. Our lives make a statement about how godliness is to be lived. Our actions speak loudly about how Christ is represented in our world. Our words reflect the gospel of Jesus fleshed out in us. Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth…a city set on a hill that cannot be hidden” (Matthew 5:14, 16). Paul writes, “Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us.” (Titus 2:7-8) In the lasts few months, the “cultural expression” of the Palestinian protests has not been a piece of cloth but of anger that has prompted Canadian law enforcement to declare hate crimes a growing problem. What about the gospel of peace that underscores the love of God for lost sinners? How would that impact our society if we behaved in every way precisely as what the Bible commands us to be? May our lives make the statement that says, as I quote our brother Owen Donalds, “Jesus loves you, and so do I”.
