Cities of timeless histories…
Villages in rubble,
Refugee camps,
Checkpoints and never ending harassment
Walls that keep extending
And truly wail.
Young soldiers armed in obedience
Cloaked women quietly vending fruit
Little Palestinians on their bikes
Weaving through the crowds of tourists
And their lives
Carrying heavy weights from childhood.

But the Light has not let go.
The Tent of Nations farming under constant drone surveillance.
Wi’Am engaging who they can in working towards conflict resolution and transformation.
Parents’ Circle reaching across the chasm of tragedies to heal together as they share their grief and work together for peace.
Hope School rescuing children and growing them in skills for self sustainability .
Al Rowwad offering the gifts of the arts to nourish the spirit and encourage the creative soul.
Mar Elias excelling their students in academics while nurturing their identities for the good.

All these. Truly Living Stones .
Giving us Hope for Peace and Reconciliation in the true spirit of Wi’Am, Agape, Unconditional Love.

“ And now abide Faith, Hope and Love,
But the greatest of these is Love”
I Cor 13:13.

Thank you, Living Stones, for feeding us and indulging us with your amazing dates, delicious fresh pomegranates, and mint lemonade. Thank you for your upside down chicken (Maqluba), and local specialities like the sweet dessert Knafeh. And thank you especially for teaching us through your examples of living a life that embraces resilience, strength, and hope, as you care for the ancient stones, all those around you, and the ones yet to be born.

We Are Here, But We Are Not All Here- Saturday October 8

We are in Ibillin now, safe and fed, but we are not all here. Zoughbi, our brother and host, remains on the other side of the line. This land, with all its layers of conflict is this week also layered with Holy Days that, in the awful irony of the Land we insist on calling Holy, only heighten the tensions. Jewish High Holy Days are transitioning to Succot. It is the Sabbath. It is Mohammad’s birthday. It is too much.

(Zoughbi with wife Elaine recently at Wi’am – The Palestinian conflict Transformation Center in Bethlehem he founded)

Our task, we knew, was to get through the West Bank checkpoints and into Israel by 4 pm, when the crossings would close. We were doing well on that count. We had marveled at the working farms of the upper West Bank—the tractors chugging by, the bent backs of workers in the fields, the families in the orchards to harvest their olives. We had enjoyed the phenomenal acoustics of the Roman amphitheater in Sebastia, where your own voice comes back to envelop you with stunning, ancient perfection. We had delighted in one of our best meals yet, served, no less, by an ardent ‘Bama Crimson Tide fanatic.

Yes, there were troubles, mournful, daunting troubles. The refugee camps in Jenin and elsewhere were being roiled; young people were dying every day. Drones were up and seeking. But Zoughbi was making every effort to steer us safely through, away from the unrest and the deadly response, and out by 4pm.

We arrived at the first checkpoint just before 2 pm, but were shunted off for further inspection. Zoughbi, whose seat near the back felt suspicious to the border agents, was taken off the bus, interviewed briefly, and found to hold inadequate paperwork for such a fiery day. We were turned around.

We headed south and west to Qalqilya, a less troubled area. But this time, advised by a phone call, Zoughbi would cross on foot while our driver took the bus over. We made it. Zoughbi didn’t. He phoned us to say that we should go on to Ibillin, and he would join us when he could. It was what he wanted. It made sense. We did it. It felt awful, and it still does.

The temptation is to tie this up with something nice and reassuring. A lesson learned; perspective gained. But the camps are still roiling; the response is still deadly. Life is messy. That’s not something where I can offer an easy reassurance. Someone else deserves the last word. At this writing, Zoughbi is somewhere between Ramallah and Bethlehem, and has sent us this: “my trip was nothing in comparison to my wife’s deportation in 2019 which took 62 hours”!

Steve Fietz

(Update on Sunday October 9) – Our friend Zoughbi was able to join us today. He spent the rest of yesterday going back to Bethlehem for the night and then left at 4:30 am today by bus for Tiberias on the Sea of Galilee where we picked him up at 9:30 am.

“It’s just a rock” were the words spoken today by our local guide as he took us through the Dome of the Rock.

“We believe in God, the rest is fairly tales” he said next. This seemed to be at least one of the themes for the day. “It’s just a cave” stated another guide, as we visited the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. “You can stand in line for an hour to go inside the tomb but, you know what? Jesus isn’t there.”

I heard versions of these sentiments throughout the day. Why do religions fight over physical objects, over control of churches, over control and ownership of sacred grounds? These are objects of man, not of God. “Look up” our guide said, “We share the same God.” Simple really.

Mark Mehos

Our bus traveled around Jerusalem, through the industrial edge of Bethany and on switchback roads with grades of 5/0 or higher to our first stop, Khan al-Ahmad, a Bedouin community of about 200 people. Because there is no access from the highway, we got off the bus on the side of the highway, walked past a skinny donkey and past sheep in a covered pen. We waved at a few women and young children on our way to the “tire school.” Since this village has been under an Israeli demolition order for years, and no permanent construction is allowed, the community built a school of tires and dirt, covering the walls with plaster and concrete. There are 200 children attending from several nearby Bedouin communities. For more info: https://www.unrwa.org/newsroom/features/rubber-tyre-school

school with artificial turf (left) and detail of tires in wall (right)

After seeing the school, we were welcomed into a covered seating area to hear from Eid Khamis Jahaleen, the community leader. Our host poured small paper cups of strong hot coffee for us, and later we were offered sweet Palestinian hot tea. 

Eid is a very intelligent but down-to-earth man, and while he has visited several U.S. States and speaks English, for us he spoke in Palestinian Arabic and our guide translated. The story of his community is like that of other Bedouin communities in Palestine- threats, intimidation, removal from traditional lands to places where there is not enough water (even though nearby illegal settlements get water), no open space for their livestock, and no access to markets (no access to the highway, no permits to travel). The community has been ordered to move and been given two options: 1) 150 meters (less than 500 feet) from a garbage dump, where a soil test shows it is dangerous for people and animals, or 2) next to the sewage collection center for nearby illegal settlements. Both options would force them to sell their animals.  The community has brought forward 14 master plans and all have been rejected. The land where the Bedouins live are strategically located at a narrow point in the West Bank, and is the only thing preventing the West Bank being divided into north and south portions. Eid gave us some examples of the injustices: solar panels donated by an international organization in 2015 were confiscated by the Israeli military, the electric grid is on adjacent property but no electricity is available to them, another organization provided outdoor bathrooms and mobile homes – these were demolished or some given to settlers. If a Palestinian ID is presented for health care from Israelis, even emergency care, they are often refused and Palestinian ambulances must have specific approval to come through the checkpoints. From 1967 to the present, the number of building permits given to Bedouins is 0. 

Eid Khamis Jahaleen 

We learned so much from Eid and his community. Our next stop was a short, hot hike up to view St. George’s Monastery, where our guide, Usama, read us Jesus’ response when asked “Who is our neighbor?”

Before a wonderful lunch in Jericho, we stopped at the Greek Orthodox Church with its wonderful icons and where stands the remains of the sycamore tree that Zacchaeus climbed. After lunch we visited the overlook of the Mount of Temptation and the Orthodox Monastery clinging to the mountainside. Looking in the other direction, and a short walk, we could almost see the Jordan River and the city of Amman. Too dusty and hazy!

Our last stop was Hisham’s Palace, an early Islamic site from the 8th Century with beautiful mosaic floors and baths. We had to make do with bottles of frozen water available from the shopkeeper. 

Mosaic from Hisham’s Palace

Mary Buchele

When you meet anyone, remember it is a holy encounter. And as you see them you will see yourself. ~ A Course In Miracles