Living Stones

There is no shortage of stones around this sacred land. We've seen stones that were part of the rubble left by the Romans' destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE, stones that formed part of an ancient Canaanite worship site at Megiddo, a stone marking the (supposed) precise spot of Jesus' birth, and the stone out of which a garden tomb was carved.

But by far the most valuable "excavation" we've experienced during our stay at Tantur has been the chance to learn from the "living stones" of the land -- those people for whom this broken place is home, who live with its harsh and beautiful realities washing over them on a daily basis. Let me introduce you to some of those living stones.

Vivi is Tantur's House Matron, which basically means that she runs the place. It's a huge job, given the groups traipsing in and out for lodging, meals, library use, and seminars. But Vivi always has time for us, time to fill a water bottle with olive oil (the best) because she'd seen our children dipping bread in it at Sunday dinner, time to offer the kids an extra sweet, time to share a meal with us and tell us her story. And what a story it is. This lovely Danish woman first came to Jerusalem as an 18-year-old nanny on a tour of the Holy Land. She stayed because she fell in love with her tour bus driver, a Palestinian Christian who lived in East Jerusalem. (Imagine her parents' response when she initially returned to Denmark and said she wanted to scrap her nursing school plans to marry an Arab!) Together, they raised four children (all of whom live Stateside now); since his death a few years ago, Vivi seems to have adopted the guests at Tantur as her family.

Sami works the front desk, which mostly means he monitors the 20-odd security cameras (told you it was safe!) scattered around this vast hilltop property. He's called us by name since the day we arrived, he's helped us book taxis and arrange outings -- always with a gracious hospitality that makes us feel as if Tantur is spinning just for us. Sami's family is the recipient of one of the soccer balls the church sent with us; I wish you could have seen his eyes light up with gratitude as he spoke of how much his young son will enjoy playing with it.

Jeff and Maria are newlyweds -- both scholars-in-residence here working on graduate degrees from Dayton University -- who have shown special kindness to our children. Every night in the Bethlehem Room (so named for its panoramic view of the little town), where we gather for coffee after dinner, Jeff and Maria engage our kids in conversation and games. Married in the chapel at Notre Dame just a month ago, Jeff is a convert from Judaism to Catholicism (by way of Campus Crusade), while Maria comes from a Catholic family in the heartlands of Iowa. It's been a joy to share this time with them.

Samer is the taxi driver inside the Bethlehem wall who takes the kids to and from camp each day. It's a choice "contract" for him, since tourism and commerce are so depressed in his town, and it's been a choice "contact" for Bob (who escorts the children while I work). Samer has patiently answered Bob's jillion questions about the siege of Bethlehem, the life afterwards, the contours of the terrorist groups we ignorantly lump together (Islamic Jihad and Hamas couldn't be more different to Samer). He has three children, including a one-week-old, and looks forward to a quiver full of five to eight kids. (As a sidenote, Elias Chacour pointed out that, with the Muslim birthrates hovering between five and six children per family, there's no getting rid of the Palestinians!)

Imad was our bus driver on the Galilee portion of our tour. He was born in the Old City but now lives with his family on the Mount of Olives. Imad's highly educated; he's fluent in English and Hebrew as well as Arabic, and he's trained in Interior Design. While he'd love to start his own design business, to do so here would require his service in the Israeli military -- an unthinkable option for this Arab Israeli. So he's driving tour busses, saving his money, and planning to move his family to Amman, Jordan to set up shop. We all fell in love with his 3-year-old son Wa'ad, who joined us for our day trip to Hebron.

Caitlin is another American here with us at Tantur. She's working on a history Ph.D. from Emory on the topic of Jewish-Christian relations in the 20th century, with a special interest in the Holocaust and its impact on those relations. She's a good Presbyterian who describes her bias as ardently supportive of Israel's statehood and who's done some fascinating research in the Zionist archives and the Library of Congress. Yet she too has been somewhat blown away by the Wall and its impact ("I thought it was like a backyard fence!") -- especially the long-term negative impact she feels it will bring for Israel, due to festering unrest and economic despair.

Hopefully, you're catching a glimpse of the richness of our visit and the relationships forged here.

With deep thanks for your partnership in this journey,

Suzanne