Worldly Holiness

Tarqumiya Checkpoint.

Yesterday I had a heartfelt conversation with an IDF soldier at the school checkpoint where I will be serving as “protective presence” for vulnerable children walking to and from school each day. I’m in Hebron in the West Bank to do this for 3 months. In a way the soldier shares a similar mission. We are both players in a larger drama that is tragic, has ruined lives and families, destroyed homes, and continues to threaten the homes and livelihoods of peace loving Palestinians. Before you stop reading this post because of what I just said about peace loving Palestinians, I beg you to listen. The darkness that is cast on this drama in the West Bank is not exclusively confined to one group of people over against the other. I’m trying my best to remain neutral and ask questions and probe to the bottom of statements and stories. So as you follow me on this blog, I promise to do my best NOT to paint with broad strokes or stoke the fires of misunderstanding on either side. This is one of those posts.

My new soldier friend is peace loving. He is frustrated with the conflict, checkpoints, settler communities, and religious zealots. He told me he would like to approach the young children from the school with whom I’m developing a relationship but his gun and uniform are getting in the way. We were both standing in the shade at the bottom of the stairs where the children from the Cordoba school were beginning their walk home. Though initially hidden from sight we must have appeared as giants when we came into view as the children rounded the corner. I was first in line, then the soldier by my side. One by one, they swung wide as they saw the soldier’s gun. Especially the girls. Their expressions told a powerful story, perhaps memories of what has previously happened. I could feel the soldiers angst. He blurted out to me. “I’m not going to use this gun. I see the kids are afraid. I hate it!” One cluster of school boys actually paused when the soldier greeted them in Arabic. We all exchanged a short conversation…“do you speak Arabic,” etc. Then hand shakes were exchanged. Hope began to rise in my heart. Maybe we can build a bridge between conflicted people and rewrite a troubled history. Maybe we can help normalize things. Maybe we can appeal to the human side in each other and make peace.

Last night around 10pm, when it was 2 hours into the dark of night, we got a call. There was a parade of young Israeli settlers who were marching through the neighborhood close to the school. Several of them knocked a door open of a Palestinian family and threw big rocks into their home. They were terrified and wanted us to come and be present. Three from our team [not me this time] quickly left to the scene. Our fears were confirmed.

I’m not sure how to finish this story. I don’t want to quickly provide an answer to my question in the title of this post–“who is the villain in this story?” But it seems clear at this point. My friends did take pictures and we will continue to monitor things this week. We suspect it will be busy. My soldier friend is on the front line. His regiment is charged with the responsibility to protect, but I’m not totally sure how broad his mandate stretches. Pray for peace this week in Hebron please. Literal peace. Pray also for peace of mind and calm hearts. Pray for the children and teachers we are here to serve. And keep posted.

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The Photos in this post–By the way, the picture at the top is from the Tarqumiya checkpoint where I was by 3:30 am yesterday morning. We monitor the passage of Palestinian workers into Israel 2xs a week for their work. About 3000 men cross this checkpoint each morning. Below is the coffee man who helped me stay alert as I counted and greeted and photographed everything. Thomas Stromberg, from Stockholm, my fellow EA did the lion’s share of the counting yesterday.