Tuesday, May 31.  We’re going to visit more students and teachers today at the Mar Elias School — the school that Father Elias Chacour founded.  This time, we’ll be with younger students.  I wasn’t so sure it would be as interesting or rewarding as it was.  I’ve seen my share of schools — first as a parent and then as a substitute in all grade levels and then in the high school working with students who have special needs.  This was, however, much more rewarding than I had counted on. 

Starting with joyous fourth graders — we got to watch them in action reading aloud in English and even answering questions on the reading and working on moving between the singular/plural versions of words.  This was amazing because they don’t even start working on English lessons until the 3rd grade with just the rudimentary letters/numbers, etc.   The teacher told us she had never seen the students as quiet before and that we could come back anytime.

Moving on to the 8th graders — typical 8th graders wanting to take pictures with us of course, but it was impressive to see what great attitudes they seemed to have.  Someone in our group commented on how they may be more motivated than some of our American counterparts at home.

Later, we had time to talk with some college students training to become teachers.  They spoke candidly about the day to day issues young people face because of the injustices — even if just the fact that when they went to the mall to shop, they very well might get stopped and have their bags searched assuming they would be a threat.

Our ‘housemother’ for our stay at the school, Samar (meaning person who loves Jesus and one who bring joy), gave us a tour of the Greek Melkite church that Father Elias Chacour built on the property. 

It is the largest Melkite church in the country and it was clear how much love he poured into it so that it could be a peaceful place to meet and worship. We learned that the Melkite Church uses icons, not statues, to inspire their faith. Next we walked back to have lunch at our dining room with students and teachers.  Again, I wasn’t sure how much I would enjoy this experience — it not being in my comfort zone to sit with others I don’t know at all and who don’t share a common native language but … again I was pleasantly surprised.  Their openness and generosity of spirit has been inspiring to me and made me want to look deeper at myself – remembering them and seeing how I can be more open and generous in my love for all.

~ Anna Lee

Monday, May 30.  Our quarry today was a mix of both dead and living stones. We began with the living stones as we visited the middle school of Mar Elias School. We went first to the faculty lounge where we had an opportunity to chat with some amazing and committed teachers – some of whom had been students of Mar Elias school themselves!  

The school sends out some amazing (and smart) leaders for the Palestinian people. In fact, in the national rankings of all schools in Israel in terms of academic achievement it is number three; with numbers one and two being elite private schools with far more restrictive admission standards. Mar Elias seeks to enroll students of all levels and extends scholarships to around 65% of the students who would not otherwise be able to afford the modest tuition.

All youth struggle with identity issues but for these particular students living in Israel, yet holding Arabic heritage, we learned they also struggle with a different level of identity crisis as they try to decide whether they are Arab Israelis, Palestinian Arabs, Christian Arabs, Muslim Arabs… or what?

One of the new and exciting things the staff has been working on recently is implementing a forgiveness curriculum that tries to help students go deep into their inner places of anger and find a way to break the chains of bitterness through forgiveness. Hope, if it is to be found here, is not going to come from more violence and oppression but from real and transforming change in the way the peoples see and treat one another. And with all that has happened over the years, forgiveness is going to be an essential part of any healing path forward. (Curriculum developed and offered to Mar Elias by Dr. Robert Enright of the University of Wisconsin Madison and the International  Forgiveness Institute.)

Next we joined one of the English classes and, splitting up into small groups, we had a lovely time giving the 9^th grade students a chance to practice their English as they answered our questions and asked us some of their own. Currently the school is 60% Muslim and a little over 50% young women. They are bright students who come to Ibillin from over 40 different towns in the area – a great and contagiously energetic group of young people.

On to Nazareth to see some of the dead (historic) stones as we visited the basilica celebrating Mary and saw many ruins of early Nazareth life. We lunched at the Mary of Nazareth International Center where good quiche, a fresh salad and a lovely breeze gave us a chance to chat and reflect on the morning. After lunch we saw a film that explored the way and places in which Mary was — and is — venerated by Islam and where she is mentioned in the Quran.

Leaving the Chemin Neuf Community that hosted us for lunch we went to the church of the Annunciation and saw many mosaics and other pieces of art from many different countries celebrating Mary. I noticed a statue outside that was a life size sculpture of Mary made of metal and covered in a thick white paint. But her hands were what caught my eye: they were black. Looking further I realized that so many people had come up to Mary’s sculpture and taken her hand, no doubt in prayer, that they had worn off the paint revealing the black metal underneath. I couldn’t help but feel that, in their prayers, they had sought to leave behind the shadows and darkness of a hard and difficult life and that that darkness was apparent in the discoloration of Mary’s hands.

More archeology as we visited the Sisters of Nazareth Convent and went deep into the excavated ruins of a first century house that has been honored from such an early time that many believe it to be the actual house of Jesus in his childhood. Deep in the ruins we saw a burial site that had one of the very few extant ancient circular stones that were rolled in front of tombs to seal them. We felt like we were seeing the kind of stone that had been rolled away by the angels on Easter morning.

Our last visits were back to the living stones as Habib Karam walked us through a now fairly-abandoned souk (market place) and talked to us about the history and development of the city. We learned that Nazareth was not among those villages destroyed in the Nekbah of 1948 and so, in the midst of the fleeing and evacuations of surrounding villages, its population doubled overnight during that turbulent and tragic time as newly homeless neighbors moved in.

We then met with Nabila Espanioly who is the director of Al Tufula, a resource center for the Palestinian women and children of Nazareth empowering them to improve and develop their lives. Just hearing her speak we could understand why she is a respected and much awarded activist and leader for peace and justice. Among her many accolades are several recognitions including an international peace prize and a Nobel peace prize nomination.

Returning to our home at the school we felt tired from the day but also a bit more like this place – and especially these people – are finding a place of home in our hearts.

~ Steve Harrington

Sunday, May 29.  This morning after breakfast, we left Mar Elias School in Ibillin to head through the Hills of Galilee towards the Sea of Galilee. A day of seeing places where Jesus began his ministry. To see hills he saw, to walk where he walked.

Those of us who had read Blood Brothers knew the story of Abuna (i.e. Father) Chacour. Even so, our first stop at Bir’am, where he was born, and where he spent his carefree childhood, had a heavy impact. We have being seeing many ruins during our time here. At each place, I would imagine the people and what their lives were like back then. These ruins today came at me differently. I was a boy playing in rural Oregon in 1948, roaming the hills behind where we lived, much like Abuna describes playing with the other boys in his village of Bir’am. My happy boyhood continued. His changed abruptly when the Zionist army arrived, expelling the whole village, saying it would be temporary. But then the village was mined, and an air attack turned it into the rubble we walked through today. We stood within the walls of Abuna’s cousin’s house. Abuna’s house shared the south wall. The floor we were on was covered with dirt and stones. A large tree grew in half of the room. We were told that the tile floor was still hidden under the protection of the dirt we stood on. A family gone. A village gone.

If I may, Steve, I would like to share the poem you composed as we were leaving.

Beauty buried,
While a wild fig tree of life
Grows in the rubble of death.

Later Joan led us in worship there in Bir’am. She asked each of us where we had seen Jesus during our week here. Everyone spoke. No one said a church, or a place, but a person, a relationship, an encounter. As Abuna would say, each saw Jesus in a Living Stone.

What a blessed life I have had. I pray God will continue to flow blessing on all Palestinians, especially those we have met, and whose stories we have heard. And also to give us courage to repeat those stories.

~ Phil Dean