November 15, 2006
With our Jewish neighbors we have good relations. But with
the Israeli government, it has been very, very difficult.
–Father Bshara at the Maronite Church in Jish
About conferences
I arrived about a week before Sabeels’ 6th International
Conference. The few days in the office before the conference were
a blur of people, supplies, and strong Turkish coffee in preparation
to receive nearly 300 people, locals and internationals. The staff
was primarily concerned with what they called a “potential
logistical disaster,” due to the many locations we were
to visit. It was a daunting task to plan how to move 300 people
from Jerusalem to Bethlehem to Jericho to Ramallah to Nazareth
to several villages in Galilee. Besides moving the participants
(and their luggage), there was also the behind the scenes work
of the temporary office, medical supplies, stage and sound equipment,
and the hot water heater for making many cups of Nescafe.
Conference participants went to a local congregation in Ein
Areek, located in the Galilee region. They had a church service,
lunch, and conversation with the congregation.
From the conference, I heard many speakers, panels, and stories.
Too much information to include in this letter but it will be
available on the Sabeel Web site
soon. The conference theme was about the “Forgotten Faithful,”
referring to Palestinian Christians. A survey was conducted before
the conference to find out why many Christians have left the Holy
Land. The results showed that lack of employment is the main reason.
I am learning that even if there are jobs available in Jerusalem,
getting to and from work is impossible for some, and difficult
for all.
About convenience
Convenience is now a thing of my past. In the States, there are
roads that have tolls one must pay in order to take that highway.
We have the convenience even of using a “fast pass”
device that allows you to pay the fee in advance and breeze through
the tollbooths. I don’t think Israel will allow such a device
at the big checkpoints, which cause long traffic lines all day.
I am amused to think of what most Americans would do if they had
to go through military checkpoints every day to get to work. From
my neighborhood in Beit Hanina I must go through the Al-Ram checkpoint
to get to work in Jerusalem. Since I have a U.S. passport, a golden
ticket, I will be allowed to enter, that is, after I am asked
questions that may or may not pertain to security: “Where
are you going? Why are you here? Are you here by yourself? Are
you Palestinian? Are you dating a Palestinian?” But at least
I am able to enter, to go to work, whereas many others cannot.
About caring
I rarely get headaches. When the conference began, my slight
“sinus” headache got worse and worse. I couldn’t
exactly pinpoint the pain—it was around my ear, my jaw,
under my eye. After a few days of taking every kind of pain medication
available over the counter with no relief, I weighed my options:
I could wait for my head to explode, wait to see if I would pass
out, or I could ask for help.
I’m not sure why I dreaded asking for help and found it
difficult to do. Perhaps it was because I’m still so new
here, because there was work all day long with the conference,
or because I’m just stubborn. “Shannon, why did you
not tell us sooner?” Sawson, one of my co-workers, asked
me. “Toothache is the worst. Nobody can withstand a pain
like that.”
The next day, Omar, another coworker, took me to a dentist in
Ramallah. I had an infected tooth, which got down to the nerve
and will need a root canal. But for now, it has been cleared up
with antibiotics, and the pain medication allowed me to feel like
my normal energetic self. That evening, as we passed the Ramallah
checkpoint with its large concrete towers, gates and steel turnstiles,
I began to wonder: Who can withstand an occupation like this?
During mealtimes I asked the participants what they thought of
the conference. They agreed that the most important aspect was
connecting with the local Christians here. The local participants
said the conference gave them a hopeful outlook. One local commented
that the Christians here didn’t want to have to ask for
help from outside countries, but more awareness of their situation
is still needed.
Last night I was having tea with my next-door neighbor, Hanna.
I discovered we’re around the same age, and that she is
from Nazareth. She converted from Islam to Christianity and now
works for Campus Crusade to mentor other young women. She was
asking me about the conferences Sabeel does, and I asked her if
any of the young women she works with would be interested in the
young adult conference this summer.
“Oh, that is not possible,” Hanna said, “because
most of their families don’t know that they have accepted
Christ.” I asked if their families would disown them if
they found out, and she shrugged. She said that she is separated
from her own family because she is no longer Muslim. I asked if
the girls would be killed because they converted to Christianity.
She said, “it is possible, it is in the Koran.”
Why is it often as a last resort that we ask for assistance?
I suppose it’s the stubborn part of us that wants to be
able to do everything from our own means. But there are some things
that cannot be done without outside help, like a getting a ride
to the dentist, or extending hope to the faithful. It takes courage,
or perhaps desperation, to be open to receive assistance from
another. It takes even more attentiveness to hear a cry for help,
and to respond appropriately. I’m glad to be here to listen
attentively.
And I’m thankful you are listening too.
Best regards from Al-Quds (a.k.a. Jerusalem),
Shannon
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