Grace and peace to you in the name of Christ from the land of His birth. In the name of our parish, in the name of our school, and in the name of our village, I send you our greetings this Lord's Day. I am grateful for this opportunity to share with you, and to send you our deepest thanks for your solidarity, your support, and your prayers. You are indeed our brothers and sisters in Christ, and you have shown your love for the Lord in your love for us.
The last three years has seen tremendous suffering among our people. Our village has been no exception. Subject to closures and curfews, economic devastation and frustration, national and international tragedy, Zababdeh has been bearing its cross. During it all, the church here has worked to be a source of hope, of encouragement, and of strength, to share our children's burdens. We have given direct support to families in need. We have created jobs through the school and through construction work to provide gainful employment. We have given scholarships to students to study at our school and have assisted with tuition for our university students. We have not been pleased to do such ministries, because it means that the people are truly suffering. It has been our obligation, though, and our joy in Christ to give a message of hope to the people of this land.
The parish school, which has been the source of much of this, is now facing difficult decisions in the coming days. Our Patriarchate-wide budget crisis, caused by the church's role in easing people's suffering over the last three years, has left our institution bankrupt. We have been met with a disturbing choice: unless our situation dramatically changes for the better, we will have to turn away students and let teachers go. Next year's enrollment and staffing will be reduced by one-third if our economic situation remains as is. Tomorrow, Fr. Majdi Suriani, the Director of the Latin Patriarchate's Schools, will be coming to Zababdeh for an open meeting to discuss the crisis. While the whole process has been transparent, this doesn't mean that the answer will be any easier. We expect that some time in the next week or so we will need to break the bad news to the families who will be affected by the cuts. Even so, we are committed to providing whatever help we can to these families. We ask for your prayers for our meeting Monday as we ask for your prayers, your continued support, and your solidarity as we face this awful crisis in our common life.
The last few days have been particularly difficult for the situation in Zababdeh. For ten days, our students and teachers in Jenin have been under curfew, unable to leave their homes, let alone come to school. On Wednesday night, the Israeli army came to Zababdeh and began arresting young men. Thursday morning, we awoke with the village surrounded by tanks, jeeps, and soldiers. Our students from Jenin, Qabatia, and Tubas were all unable to come, but we continued with a scaled-back schedule for our Zababdeh students. At 9:00, an army jeeped passed by the school, announcing that a curfew was in effect immediately. When they passed by again, I went out to meet them and explained our situation: 500 students were stuck at school and needed to get back home. The captain gave us half an hour to bring our students home. We did, thankfully, without incident, though our children were terrified. Tanks prowled the streets, their grinding noise filling the air. Curfew remained in effect for the rest of the day, as several houses of our parishioners were surrounded. One of our young men was used as a human shield by a soldier as he searched their home, a pistol held to his head. An old woman was hit in the head by shrapnel as she slept in her bed, fortunately the only casualty suffered, apart from our school bus which a tank shot full of holes.
With the reality of the last three years behind us, and the future uncertain before us, we find that this is a life we cannot love. No one can want this for their families, their children, their parents, their neighbors. No one can call this situation enjoyable - it is barely bearable. When we hear the words of Christ in the gospel that we should "hate" our lives, we find this all too easy these days. We hate that our children cannot get their education. We hate that our young men face a future without work. We hate that we will have to fire our teachers and turn away our students, some of them the children of our own parish. No one who knows the God of love as we do, who worships the Lord of grace and mercy, can love such things. But in our suffering, in our fear, in our despair, we find our hope. Our worldly life of hate will be replaced with a heavenly life of love. The crosses of suffering we bear will be replaced with crowns of glory. The world groans, and we with it, under this weight. But the glory and salvation of Christ is much greater.
As for our ministry and witness here, the church in this land, we too hate this suffering. We hate that we have to provide handouts for families who once had no such material needs. We continue to provide for them, though, even in our poverty. Doing so, we try to follow Christ's example of selfless love. Like the seed that falls to the ground, without risking death, we cannot give life to all. In that death, as Christ's body, our hope lies in the empty cross, the glory of resurrection, the wonder of life anew.
May we all be so blessed this Easter.
Grace and Peace,
Fr. Aktham Hijazin
Parish Priest, Church of Visitation
School Principal, Latin Patriarchate School
Zababdeh, Palestine