Dear coworkers,
Something strange is happening here in Kurdistan, northern Iraq this week. Yes, the pope is in town for the first time since…ever. Iraqis and Kurds are excited and proud–like all of us they want to know they matter and that the world deems them worthy of attention. I’d like to believe in some way they are also honoring Messiah Jesus as they honor the pope.
But the really strange thing is the number of newborns suddenly appearing here with transposition of the great arteries. At this hour we have in our hands no fewer than eight babies with this condition (and another one seems to show up every couple of hours). If these little ones can get to an advanced medical center in the first few months of life, the arteries can be switched and they can grow up to have a normal life. It was just such an emergency that brought the first Iraqi baby to Israel in 2003.
Some back-of-the-envelope calculations show that roughly 500 babies are born in Iraqi Kurdistan each day. About one of 5000 babies are born with a transposition; so one should be born in Kurdistan about every ten days. The numbers we’re seeing are almost statistically plausible.
But how is it they are all finding their way to us? We’ve never seen anything even close to this. I remember once asking a cardiologist here what they were doing with their transpositions since we hadn’t seen one for so long. The truth is that many of families of these children thought there was no hope and took their babies home to die.
Now they’ve found us. Our story over 25 years is that we’ve never had to turn away a child who had no other options. I’ve long believed there is no explanation for this other than that the hand of our Father is leading to us the ones he has chosen. Now this belief is being tested. Can we stand up under the load of all these children?
It’s one thing to ask this question in the abstract. It was another late last night as I held one of these babies in my arms and looked into the hope-filled faces of her family:



Rather than lament that these words are no longer true of our home countries, let’s press forward and believe for the day that it will be increasingly true here in the Middle East. To an extent it already is: when it’s time to close a deal, or simply get up and go somewhere, in Arabic the simple word Twakkul (“trust in God”) will suffice. I’m praying for the day that the trust of many here will extend to everything God has spoken in the Torah, prophets and New Testament.
The barriers between Messiah and the peoples of the Middle East are so great that only God’s spirit can breach them. A new report this week finds that Turkish textbooks are now labeling both Jews and Christians as infidels. And a new study of curriculum in Israeli schools finds that Christian faith is barely mentioned:
I’ve had several conversations in northern Iraq these last two weeks in which I’ve tried to speak candidly with longtime friends about our Christian failings in both belief and practice, in order to entreat them to look with fresh eyes at the word of God itself. I am willing to give honest criticism to Christians if it enables Muslims to come to Jesus, I jotted down at one point. I look forward to them showing us the scriptures in a new light.
Jonathan for Shevet Achim
“Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together in unity” (Psalm 133).