February 23, 2003

Clergy vestments as part of the celebratory processional.

At the Latin church in Zababdeh, today is seminary Sunday, celebrating the 150th anniversary of the Roman Catholic seminary in Beit Jala. Ironically, the seminary is closed this year, as the Patriarchate has been unable to secure Israeli visas for its foreign (mostly Jordanian) students or priests. The seminary houses and teaches students from seventh grade through ordination. Except for those in the final years of their preparation, all their students are in their hometowns, attending local schools, hoping the Israeli government will relent and grant visas for them to return next year. Some of the older seminarians from Jordan have remained here, knowing that if they go home, they might not be able to return. A few of them were among those who came to Zababdeh today, sharing in morning worship.

Students prepared for the first Gulf War.

After church, there was a program in the church hall, where people looked at photographs of the seminary and its students for the past 150 years - under Ottoman, British, Jordanian, Israeli, Palestinian and again Israeli control. One photo during the last Gulf War showed students sporting their gas masks. Then everyone settled down to watch a powerpoint presentation about the seminary's mission, history and facilities.

Afterwards, Elizabeth joined the seminary group and Fr. Aktham and Deacon Homam and the Sisters for a delicious meal of Jordanian style mansaf (with sauce from Bedouin-style dried cakes of yogurt instead of fresh yogurt like local mansaf). Delicious. The seminary group was headed back to Jerusalem, and took with them a couple parcels headed to Roswell Presbyterian Church in Georgia, part of a student-to-student program with our and their first graders. Since there is no longer any postal service here, we rely on trips to Jerusalem or into Israel to mail anything.

Clergy and seminarians at the Latin Church of Zababdeh.

Marthame spent the morning in Ramallah, doing more preparation for his class at Ibillin, while the young man went off to take the TOEFL. At 10:30, Fr. Fadi returned from his Sunday morning duties in Birzeit in time for his pastoral duties in Ramallah. Marthame participated in the service - it's the first time in a long time that we've been able to worship in an Anglican church here - Zababdeh's is basically closed at this point. We've missed it.

Marthame and the young man made their way out of the Qalandia checkpoint, expecting a challenge from the soldiers. Sure enough, the young soldier wanted to see his travel permission. He didn't have one (and likely wouldn't have gotten one had he asked for it). Marthame explained the situation. "But no one can enter Ramallah or leave Ramallah without permission," the soldier explained.

"But he entered Ramallah without permission, just yesterday, and no one told us otherwise."

After a pregnant pause, the soldier replied, "OK, but tell him this is the last time."

"Sure thing."

The taxi filled up with passengers and made its way towards Jenin. The soldiers at the first checkpoint (near the settlement of Ma'ale Ephraim - we've gotten to know their names by now) were not letting anyone pass, and weren't particularly interested in checking any of the cars. After an hour wait, and several attempts by the driver to approach the soldiers, we were finally allowed to pass. The Hamra checkpoint was eerily empty - probably because of the Ma'ale Ephraim checkpoint - so we passed quickly. It's nice to be home.

We watched the Jenin, Jenin documentary (with English subtitles). It's a fairly accurate mix of the Palestinian perspective - accurate and personal stories of outrageous Israeli excesses, which have deservedly brought sympathy to Palestinians, mixed with the excessive overstatement and exaggeration that have undercut it. An old man weeps like a child, a young girl recites nationalist sentiment. It's not meant to be an investigation of what happened - rather, it's a study in Jenin Camp opinion and reaction. And that it does well.