The whole time we were there, we could hear the sound of various weapons swirling around the area - tanks, airplanes, etc. But life was calm in the hills.

There was something very powerful about having our intercessions mixed with those representing others in the parish, then combined with body and blood to be shared and internalized by all - very welcoming, affirming, embracing.

It's Friday, which means it's our weeknd (that's half a weekend).

People in Zababdeh are generally aware that there are now foreigners living here and nearby, but rarely are we seen in big groups.

Very tired. No sign that the situation is improving.

We got together with friends from the Arab-American University of Jenin tonight.

Given the news that all Israeli-controlled roads in the West Bank are off-limits to Palestinian traffic, it seems like we need to plan for a longer haul than before.

The younger kids, remembering yesterday's trauma, were scared to leave the bus. Elizabeth carried one small boy, who couldn't negotiate the last step off the bus by himself. He was crying as Elizabeth brought him to a taxi.

The buses re-approached the tanks, and as Abuna Aktham stepped down from the bus to speak with the soldiers, they fired several shots.