St. Andrew’s Galilee
Just back from Church. Yet again a fascinating group of people. A couple from Germany, a woman from Poole in Dorset (fortunately a good singer, who knew the hymns I had chosen), a couple of Armenian seminarians (one with a rich Canadian accent). It is always touching to stand round the Table with people from different countries and traditions. It is a must, apparently, for Armenian priests to have beards, so the Canadian seminarian wondered why not all protestant ministers are bearded (though admittedly I have stubble!!). If he stays in the Middle East, he will have to remain celibate, whereas if he returns to Canada, he can choose to marry.

For a tiny congregation, a lot seems to happen, and a few weeks ago, we had a special service admitting Andrew Donohoe to the eldership. He had been ordained in Dumfries about 25 years ago, but now that he has come back to Tiberias permanently, it seemed good to utilise his leadership skills. The following week was Shirley’s last Sunday with us. A Mennonite and Director of Nazareth Village, she has been coming faithfully to St Andrew’s for about 5 years, but now it is time for her to return to the States and to Maryland. She has been a good support, and it is sad to lose her, but exciting that she is moving on to new things.

Banners
We have been moving things around in the church. There are some bare walls, so we decided we needed some banners to add a splash of colour. We are not quite up to making any yet, so if anyone has some spare banners lying around, they would be most welcome! Also, one of the local scout groups in Sakhnin have a pipe and drum band, and are desperately looking for old bagpipes...!

Lutheran Young leaders
At the end of June we hosted a group of 20 young people, mostly from the Lutheran churches in the West Bank. It was touch and go whether they would be granted the necessary visas, but to our relief they were. They could never afford to stay at the Hotel on normal rates, but we are able to subsidise some groups (though the budget soon runs out!). It was a joy for them to see the Sea of Galilee (they can only dream of the sea in the West Bank) and visit the sites associated with Jesus. Bishop Munib, who is such a wonderful person, was there facilitating, which I found very encouraging, as sometimes leaders don’t associate with the youth. During their worship, their hymn-singing drew some of the Jewish and Moslem members of staff, and their excellent behaviour won the praise of all.

Jaffa & Bethlehem
Schools have broken up for the summer holidays, and Tabeetha was no different. I travelled down for the graduation ceremony, as the 6th formers said their goodbyes. I was amazed at how mature they were and also excited by their dreams for the future, which they so ably put across by video, as well as by speech. A good evening, and fortunately far cooler in Jaffa than Tiberias.

The next day I went with George (minister in Jerusalem) and Lindsay (a student on summer attachment) to Bethlehem to visit some of the projects supported by Sunbula. The one which stood out for me was the Ma’an Lil-Hayat project, which is based at the L’Arche community. It aims to ‘bring together people with and without intellectual disabilities, who share life through work, celebrations and mutual relationships of friendship and trust. They aim to ‘ celebrate the unique value of every person and recognise the need for one another’. As one of my friends at the Hotel commented, if only everyone in Israel-Palestine thought the same! It was so good to see how the wool was carded, then made into felt – and suddenly caterpillars and ladybirds and nativity scenes were created. There was lots of excitement as well, as the group had just been to a swimming pool, the first time for most of them. After the visit to Ma’an Lil-Hayat, we spent the afternoon with Usama at Wi’am, the centre for Reconciliation and Dialogue. He took us into the Aida Refugee camp, which was right next to the Wall which seems to encircle Bethlehem. A more chilling end to the day.

Samir

Over the last couple of weeks I have been invited to visit the homes of some of the members of staff, and yesterday I went to Mughar, a Palestinian village which has a mixed population of Christian, Moslem and Druze. I had visited Ayman a few times, accompanying him to his church, but this time I visited Samir, one of the maintenance workers at the hotel. Samir is Druze, a Moslem sect with many members in Lebanon and Syria. The Druze are unusual for Moslems, in that they always support the state of Israel and participate in the army. However, like all Palestinians, there is a longing to visit relatives in Syria and Lebanon, many of whom they have never met, because there is no peace between these countries and Israel.

Samir lives in one of the nicest houses I have visited in Israel, beautifully decorated with antiques and with commanding views over the Galilee hills. Like many of the Arab houses, there were flags flying from the roof (in Samir’s case, an Argentinean one) – an indication of which team the family were supporting in the ‘Mondial’ (World Cup).

Scots Festival

Every year in May there is a celebration of Scottish culture at the Hotel. This year it coincided with the departure of the General Manager, but the managers (departmental heads) are real professionals, and they pulled it off.

There was a superb closing concert, set in the hotel gardens overlooking the Lake and with wonderful music (admittedly Irish rather than Scottish), and other events such as a whisky seminar, a study of Macbeth through drama, opera and film and an evening of Scottish songs.

A Scottish chef (above) also appeared in a workshop, demonstrating how to cook Scotch Broth - not a patch on my mother’s! -and stovies, and then trifle (with jelly!).

Tension

The siren sounded throughout the country, and people immediately rushed to their shelters. It was an air-raid practice, and I was at my Hebrew conversation class. So the 8 of us trooped downstairs to the designated room and joined all the others from the educational centre. Fortunately it only lasted a few minutes, as the room was full of junk – the thought of spending any length of time there something not to dwell on.

The following morning, quite early, I heard the boom of thunder from the Golan Heights, but it wasn’t thunder: rather the army testing their big guns! Rumours of possible war were suddenly rife in my Hebrew group!

Then to cap it all, there was the incident of the flotilla of ships bringing aid to Gaza, which resulted in several deaths and the almost universal condemnation of Israel. At the Hotel there is a policy (official/ unofficial?) not to talk about politics, and the Arab staff members were reluctant to talk about the incident, apart from in private, whilst the reaction of the Jewish members of staff varied considerably. ‘Why does everyone in the world hate us?’, one of the younger members asked me.

Baptism and Mourning

Rather excitingly, we had a baptism on Sunday evening. Given the small numbers of the congregation here, it is not something which happens regularly – in fact, no-one can remember the last time a baby was baptised here! However, Adeck Mba, the father, is a professional footballer, playing for one of the teams here in Israel – and is a Presbyterian from Cameroon (The Basle Mission were active in that part of west Africa), his mother being an elder. So it was a privilege to baptise little Riya. Also a relief that there was a reasonable congregation of 18 there to witness it and offer support.

Having witnessed at the baptism the joy of new life a baby brings, a very good friend of mine from the hotel, Moshe (photo right), has just been through a very different experience, with the death of his father. Jewish burials take place usually within a day of the death happening different from Africa, where we often waited for days for family to arrive), after which the family hold shiva. This means that the family sit in the funeral house for 7 days. Mirrors are covered, and the family sit on the floor (or very low seating). They also rip their clothes as a sign of mourning. During shiva, a memorial candle is kept alight, and friends call for short visits. Men are not allowed to shave or have haircuts for 30 days, while women do not wear makeup.(At the hotel, the male staff are supposed to shave every day, but Moshe has been exempted for a month). After 7 days, a person can resume work, but in Moshe’s case, work at the hotel is combined with prayers three times a day (early morning at 5.30, late afternoon and evening) – and in Judaism, you need at least 10 people to pray, so it is not a case of rattling through some prayers in private, but of going to a synagogue for at least an hour.

Mourning for a parent actually lasts for a year, and during that time, the mourner is not supposed to go to parties or entertainment, nor is able to invite anyone for meals. Even music is avoided. Of course, many people do not necessarily keep all of this, but the religious would, and Moshe comes from quite a religious family.

Visit to Jenin

The very mention of the West Bank town of Jenin seems to set alarm bells ringing with many of the people here. The incursion of the Israeli army into Jenin was one of the flashpoints of the Intifada, and a number of lives were lost, especially on the Palestinian side. The town was ‘closed’ for some time, and even now I doubted how easy it would be to get in (when I mentioned I was going, one Palestinian friend said I was a brave man!). As it was, there was nothing simpler than getting through the checkpoint (though the vehicle and our luggage were thoroughly searched on the way back!), and Jenin itself was a friendly, bustling town.

I had gone there with Runa Mackay and Janet Powney from Edinburgh, and our main contact was Yousef at the Jenin Cultural Centre, which organizes drama, workshops for children, English lessons and computer classes among other things. [The photo is at the Cultural Centre at Jenin. From left, Yousef, Ahmed, Mohammed and me.] It was interesting to see the children’s paintings, which had been full of violent images of soldiers, tanks, blood, people being arrested. However, the more recent ones are of more peaceful scenes, including the sea – though this is something which can no longer be seen with ease on the West bank. It was also good to visit the Refugee Camp, which had borne the brunt of the fighting during the Incursion, and see the sculpture of a horse, made out of bits of cars (and even an ambulance) which had been blown up during the fighting. Again, taking something negative and turning it into a positive.

We stayed at Yousef’s home in the village of Burqin, and I was excited to find an old Orthodox church there, set in a peaceful garden full of roses. It is reputedly the site of the healing of the 10 lepers, and a church was built there in the 4th Century. The Christian population is small, but there seems to be a good relationship between the Moslems and Christians. Also near Burqin, is a centre for fair trade products (Canaan Fair Trade). There seem to be about 40 farms involved, seven of which are organic, as well as 6 women’s co-operatives. Farmers are given a good price for their goods, and the quality seems to be excellent (I bought some olive oil and some soap). A lot of the produce is sold to Europe and America, and I felt encouraged that the fragile Palestinian economy could be boosted by an organization seeking to benefit women and men in this rural community.

A good visit, and one which re-enforces in my mind both the goodness of people on all sides of this conflict, but also the dreadful injustices being borne by the Palestinians in the West Bank. But ultimately I left feeling more hopeful for the Palestinian people.

Bir’im

Bir’im was a bustling village near the Lebanese border, with a population of Maronite and Melkite Christians. In 1948 the villagers had to leave, hoping that they would return, but it never happened. Many moved to the nearby village of Jish; others went into exile. Their case was taken to court, and the ruling was that they be allowed to return – except ‘for security reasons’ this has never been implemented. Though, interestingly, the people of Jish still bring their dead to be buried at the cemetery in Bir’im. (On Good Friday it is the custom for Christians to visit the graves of their loved ones, and I hear that at 6 o’clock in the morning, several hundred people had made the journey from Jish to Bir’im to continue this custom).

The area is now a national park, as there is an ancient synagogue there, but you can still see the ruins of the houses, though the stone crosses on the lintels seem to have been taken away. The Maronite church is still there, however, and services, hitherto held only once a year, will apparently be held there every Saturday. While I was there, a group of American Christians were looking at the synagogue and had spent 45 minutes there. When we mentioned about the church being just 50 metres away, their guide said it was time for lunch and quickly moved them to their bus. Perhaps the sight of the ruined village would have led to some awkward questions. Out of sight is out of mind.

Though, for the Jews, this is the time to remember, and there have been two memorial days, one for the victims of the Shoah (holocaust) and the other for soldiers who died in wars. A siren sounds over the land, and everyone and everything stops and stands to attention. Looking out my window, I could see vehicles stopped in the middle of roundabouts, with the drivers standing still beside them. This must have been broadcast widely, as I received a text message from the North-western province of Zambia, asking why it happened.