Every Sunday morning, Fred begins the introduction to our service by announcing
"I am called to serve in Accompaniment with the ELCJHL and as part of my responsibilities I serve as pastor of the English-speaking Congregation."
Accompaniment is at the heart of what we do. But what is accompaniment? There are theological statements and lectures by missiologists. Instead, we thought we would tell you about a typical week in our Jerusalem lives--(we had written this blog a month ago in late August, but waited for a couple photos before posting -- still you will get an idea of a typical week). Accompaniment is not a theoretical concept to be pondered, it is simply what we do, whether intentionally or not, whether consciously or not.
Sunday Morning
We rise out of habit before the alarm goes off at 5:00 a.m.
Fred focuses on reviewing the sermon and today's worship service while Gloria is in the kitchen baking communion bread. By 7:15 we are heading to the corner to catch public bus # 75 down the hill and to the old city. The walk through Damascus Gate offers a less-than-typical experience with the streets nearly empty and the urban sounds muted before the city comes alive.At Redeemer we are the first to arrive, and begin by opening windows and turning on fans on yet another hot August day. We are our own altar guild and hasten to get the sanctuary ready. There are no tour groups this time of year, so we take advantage of the lull to sit with Pastor Barhoum of the Arabic Congregation and his family in his office. Daughter Sally is beaming with stories from her trip to the New Orleans Youth Gathering, while Juji is anxious about her fall plans to begin university in Germany. We take time to listen.
Our pianist is late arriving because of a flat tire on her bicycle. She's not the only one. The 9:00 bells ring, but there are only six persons all in the front pews. Others trickle in until our numbers increase to 35 for the remainder of the service.
[Our June blog featured a short video about our congregation life which you can view again here.]
Following announcements and welcoming of guests we gather in the courtyard for a cup of tea along with the Arabic congregation who have completed their worship in the main sanctuary next door.
The Sunday School kids help Gloria clear the altar and carry things back to our office. Our regulars tend to linger sharing their experiences of the week with one another. We make time to become acquainted with newly arrived members: a couple with the U.S. Consulate, a young adult volunteer with the Mennonite Church, and a Swedish woman who will help with administrative tasks at the Swedish Theological Institute. Another couple from the States explains that they have come on their own for a two-week visit to the Northern West Bank and are filled with questions, which we do our best to answer. It is noon before we lock the office and head out the door.
As Pastor and Associate Minister we find this role fulfilling as accompaniers of those who accompany, equipping and nourishing those who are here to walk alongside the people of this land.
Sunday Afternoon
"We have a dinner invitation," Gloria announces as soon as we leave the church. This is a culture where invitations tend to come on the spur of the moment. So visiting this Armenian family in Beit Safafa offered a healthy grill of chicken and lamb with garden-grown salads, but also an opportunity to share family news: theirs about plans for their daughter's upcoming marriage as well as photos of their first grandchildren; ours illustrated by photos of our summer vacation with children and granddaughters now numbering five.
Sunday Evening
Fred begins sermon preparation for next week, studying the texts, to let the ideas roll over in his mind in view of the coming week's encounters.
Gloria answers emails. A request for a Lenten devotion; An inquiry about an upcoming Holy Land visit; A question about how to get in touch with one of our local pastors.
Monday Morning
We head to the old city for our Monday routine of office work. Fred has to put finishing touches on a letter of condolences from Bishop Younan following the death of Abuna Paulos, the Patriarch of the Orthodox Church of Ethiopia. Our regular tasks include bulletin preparation for next Sunday, our weekly email newsletter, and our weekly email prayer chain within the congregation.
Morning coffee break with staff-- a time to listen to their joys and their sorrows, not just the routine of work to be done or tasks to be accomplished.
Each week is unique with new experiences and new challenges. This in particular is not really a typical week. By virtue of Fred's job description as assistant to the Bishop of the ELCJHL, more office time is normally expected, with a lot of writing and editing. This week Bishop Younan is attending meetings in Lebanon, so we take advantage of other opportunities.
Monday Afternoon through Wednesday
The Redeemer Arabic Congregation has invited us to go with them on their annual retreat to Nazareth. We catch their chartered bus by 1:00 p.m. All 54 seats are filled while others follow by car. It is a time for spiritual renewal. As the bus departs, we all pray the Lord's Prayer in Arabic and then sing together perhaps a dozen Arabic hymns as the bus makes it way down the highway.
Each evening we have devotions and hymn singing, and the mornings are taken up with Bible study.
Wednesday Evening
We return to Jerusalem by bus at 6:00 p.m. just in time for our congregational social evening--two hours of volleyball, then potluck dinner and good portions of conversation.
Thursday Morning.
Gloria heads to Bethlehem to meet with one of our members who has just had a baby, while Fred spends the morning in the office.
- A Finnish magazine has requested a sermon from the Bishop for publication--so there is editing work to be done.
- A West Jerusalem Rabbi and dialogue partner has requested an article for an upcoming book. The deadline is just one week away, though the email request seems to have arrived several months ago.
- The German Church in the Rhineland has also written requesting logistical assistance with a November Jewish-Christian Seminar to be hosted by the ELCJHL at Redeemer. So phone calls are made and emails sent.
But it's an opportunity to share life's stories, for Gloria to listen as Shadia talks about the challenges with her young adult children in career and in school, with her husband working far from home in Baghdad, with the daily routine in this West Bank town.At noon Fred heads to the Sabeel offices in North Jerusalem to lead their weekly Eucharist, filling in for Rev. Naim Ateek, who is on Sabbatical in the States.
Thursday Afternoon Fred walks home to pick up the car from Gloria just back from Beit Sahour for him to drive to Beit Sahour for a late afternoon funeral/ memorial service for the father of one of our retired clergy.
A text-message comes across the phone that a leading rabbi has died in Mea-Shearim, the Orthodox Jewish section of West Jerusalem. "Be aware of traffic congestion with burial on the Mount of Olives [in East Jerusalem]." Rush hour traffic is already heavy. Reaching the Northeast corner of the old city near the Rockefeller Museum, it suddenly comes to a stop. On a typical day, there would be a chorus of car horns. Today there is quiet--seeminly in a show of respect. A wave of Hasidic Jewish men-- all dressed in their usual white shirts, black suits, and hats, with side-curl sideburns swinging in the air, and fringes of tallits dangling--march down the eastbound lane as far as the eye can see. And the traffic inches slowly forward. One never knows what to expect, what delays to encounter. No trip is ever routine.
Then there are checkpoints to navigate whenever we come and go to the West Bank. Bethlehem check point "300." is surprisingly not so crowded this afternoon. Driving through the winding streets, the car pulls up at the church at three minutes to five o'clock. Fred fastens the top button of his clergy shirt to slip the white plastic tab into place, while falling into rank in the procession to the front of the church.
On occasions like this, clergy all sit in front facing the congregation, today there are five of us from the ELCJHL. Fifteen minutes into the service a local Catholic priest joins us. Then half-way through the service an {Arab} Greek Orthodox Bishop and a Roman Catholic Bishop walk in together in a display of Ecumenical support. Following the service, there is a long receiving line for condolences, then a gathering in the church hall of the Greek Orthodox Church across the street (large enough to fill the crowd of mourners) where we sit a while to accompany the mourners in breaking their fast, eating together a piece of bread while drinking chocolate milk (a Beit Sahour custom), then the obligatory small cup of coffee-- "Saada" (without sugar). Then yet another round of handshakes and farewells.
"Can I catch a ride?" asks Ashraf Tannous, our newly ordained pastor from Ramallah.
"Only if you agree to first come for pizza," I insist. Gloria and Susanne are back at the Mount of Olives getting ready to welcome our newly arrive, jet-lagged YAGMs.
Ashraf is more than willing, "Someone should be there from the ELCJHL to welcome them. I must come."First the checkpoint. Ashraf explains that his permit only allows him to walk through the maze often dubbed the cattle stalls.
"Let's see if they'll let you ride through with me in the car."
As we get closer, Ashraf suggests that maybe it would be better for him to get out now and walk through. "It's better you not get in trouble."
"Me get in trouble? Do I look like a Palestinian?" That draws a smile from Ashraf as he remembers how it took him three hours this morning going through Qalandia Checkpoint. I then assure him, "You're a pastor now. The least they can do is offer you a little respect."
I turn on the overhead light in the car so that the guard can see clearly. He's talking on his cell phone as it's our turn in the queue. He finishes his conversation while we sit waiting. When I offer my passport, he barely offers a glance and waves me through.
Ashraf looks at me in disbelief, "He didn't even look at me!"
"You're a pastor now!"
Ashraf offers an enthusiastic and sincere welcome, letting them know how much it means to have young people like them giving up a year of their lives to accompany the Palestinian Christians. The newcomers are a bit subdued, tired from their journey, but likely overwhelmed by the world they have embraced. The familiar taste of pizza is reassuring, but it's Ashraf's invitation that breaks the ice. "How about a game of volleyball."
Then it was Fred who had to drag Ashraf away after 45 minutes of volleyball, with a ride down to the bus station to catch the last bus to Ramallah as it pulled away at 10:00 p.m.
"You and Gloria are coming to the baptism tomorrow?" he asked as we said good night.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world."
Friday morning
Friday morning we were back in the Redeemer office.
- Fred meeting with the Bishop to go over a proposal for a two-year education program to train lay preachers.
- Gloria preparing photos of new members for our congregation bulletin board.
Friday afternoon
Early Friday afternoon we're back in the car, this time driving north to Ramallah for the Tannous family baptism service.
And this is also Ashraf's first baptisms following his ordination. So our presence offers a little support. Then spontaneously Fred is asked to deliver an impromptu baptism homily
Following the baptism Gloria and Fred split up for the evening with our calendars overbooked. Gloria heads to a six-hour baptism celebration at the Tannous home. The men have the task of preparing the kebabs
The twins celebrate by cutting their birthday/ baptism cake. We're reminded once again how children are the same all over the world.
Fred, in turn, is attending the College ceremonies at Dar Alkalima College in Bethlehem.
This entails crossing two checkpoints and a drive across the length of Jerusalem.
Qalandia checkpoint is backed up with traffic, and cars are barely inching forward. It would take an hour to get through. Fred has the luxury of driving instead to Hizmeh, about five miles east, where the checkpoint is open only for West Bank settlers and Palestinians with yellow Jerusalem license plates and Jerusalem I.D.s and also expatriates like us.
It was the right choice. The M-16 carrying soldier responsible for checking Fred's lane is distracted by a young blonde-haired soldier, standing back-up, and flirting as young people often do. So much for security. The cars fly through hardly slowing down, increasing the odds that Fred will be on time.
48 students are graduating tonight with degrees in
- film
- music
- art (Pottery, Painting, Jewelry-design)
- tourist guiding
Gloria sends a text message that she will be at Qalandia at 10:00 p.m.
The Bethlehem check-point is backed-up so Fred pulls out his Kindle and reads several chapters of Anna Karina while pausing to pull forward and stop, to pull forward and stop, twenty times over.
Once past the check-point, it's a breeze. It is Friday night, Shabbat, with no traffic on Jerusalem streets. Now Fred sends a text message coordinating our meeting. By the time Fred reaches Qalandia, Ashraf's cousin has dropped Gloria off on the Ramallah side, and she walks through the relatively empty cattle stalls--still the guards take their time, allowing only one to pass through before the next person enters. When Fred arrives, Gloria is standing by the side of the road.
Ashraf's mother has sent Fred a plate piled high with grilled chicken and kebabs, and only then do we remember that we had not taken time for lunch.
Saturday Morning
The new YAGM orientation will shift from Jerusalem to Beit Jala tomorrow, so we help Julie and Jeff transport luggage in our vehicle to one of the YAGM apartments in Beit Jala.
Then we have a stop to make in Bethlehem. One of the families from the retreat earlier in the week asked to borrow one of Fred's books, so we drive by their house. There is never a quick stop. We do decline the invitation for coffee, but we can't just passby without offering full greetings.
Pastor Imad in Beit Sahour, has been reassigned by the ELCJHL to serve at the Pastor of the Lutheran Church of Hope in Ramallah. So we stop in Beit Sahour to help Imad and Rula with their packing. A truck will come for their furniture next week, but we can load breakable items in the back of our car.
When the back of our vehicle is full of boxes, we realize that we have made a critical mistake. "We don't yet have a key to the Ramallah parsonage," Imad informs us.
Our plans had been to drive the Wadi Nar road East of Jerusalem, entirely in the West Bank. Now we realize we will have to pick up a key in Jerusalem.
The problem: we are not allowed to bring cargo from the West Bank into Jerusalem, just a few groceries which we usually place in an inconspicuous location on the floor of the back seat. The guards are supposed to open the trunks of all vehicles to be sure nothing "Dangerous" is transported. Often they wave us through without looking when they see our American Passports and our Caucasian features. But today the car is full--both the back seat and the cargo area in back.
"I won't go through the Bethlehem check-point," Fred announces. "We can take the settlers check point by Har Homa." This is a restricted checkpoint like Hizme, where they always pass us through quickly, often not checking at all. Only today Fred is not wearing a clerical.
The check-point is totally empty of cars. Fred reaches his hand out the window with his passport, and a "Shabbat Shalom" greeting.
A young woman soldier starts to take the passport, touching it lightly, then with the same hand waves us through. But then she calls out, "Wait! Ma na!"
"What is this?" Fred responds repeating her Hebrew question. "Just Kitchen things, dishes and glasses." She looks like she doesn't understand, so Fred clarifies, "It's for the church. For the kitchen."
She turns to holler in Hebrew to a guard a little bit older, clearly her superior, who is sitting in the shade, checking his text-messages with his M-16 draped across his knees. He walks over, seemingly unhappy about the interruption. He speaks only in Hebrew.
"Do you speak English?" Fred asks, while the guard responds more loudly, still in Hebrew.
"L'Kenneset Lutheri." Fred offers, trying to make sense with minimal Hebrew. "It's for the church."
The guard shakes his head and mutters something.
The young woman directs us to drive ahead, where there's space to park the car. We anticipate that we will soon be unpacking all of the boxes in front of them. Five, ten minutes pass while the older guard is talking on the phone, reading out Fred's passport number and the spelling of his name.
Eventually he approaches, again asking what was in the boxes. They are all carefully packed and taped shut, but we show him the contents of one. He continues to talk loudly and ask in Hebrew, "What is it?"
Fred continues to respond, "L'Kenneset Lutheri."
Another guard, an Ethiopian, is sitting seemingly unconcerned, until he is called over. He asks in English, "What's in the boxes?"
"They're for the church. For the priest's kitchen. Just dishes and cups." Fred also turns to the visa page of the passport and points. "Ish Dat. Clergyman visa."
We are half expecting that we will be sent back to Beit Sahour to unload, when the older soldier gives a look of disgust and a hand gesture, "Go on. Get out of here. But don't do this again."
"Mish Muskele. Not a problem!"
We get in the car, driving through Jerusalem from south to north, through Qalandia checkpoint into Ramallah, unpack the boxes at the parsonage, and back through Hizme checkpoint --so how many checkpoints does that make this week? --and home to the Mount of Olives.
Saturday evening
One last event for the week. We've been invited by the Beit Sahour congregation to help them say farewell to Pastor Imad and Rula. There are the customary speeches, the Dabke dancing, and the school choir. We retreat to the schoolyard for juice and cookies.
This is accompaniment.
by Fred & Gloria Strickert
http://walkinjerusalem.blogspot.com/
