An Educational Month

Salaam and Peace be to you from Jerusalem!

It has been a busy few weeks since I returned from my time in the States, and an exciting time for the ELCJHL Director of Education Office!

Building Hope in Ramallah

First, on February 7th, in Ramallah, we all gathered to lay the cornerstone for a new building for the Evangelical Lutheran School of Hope. It was really fun to gather with both students and teachers at the new site and literally cement in the new cornerstone.

The school choir was present, as well as students in traditional Palestinian dress, as well as dignitaries, including the Palestinian Authority Prime Minister, Dr. Salam Fayyad, and the European Representative, Mr. Christian Berger, along with pastors and principals and lay members from the ELCJHL.

The Evangelical Lutheran School of Hope is an outgrowth of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Hope in Ramallah. The Congregation was founded in 1954 in response to the needs of Palestinian Lutheran refugees who had fled to the Ramallah area during the 1948 al-Nakba (the catastrophe). The school began eight years later in 1966 as a kindergarten with ten students and two teachers. Each year the school added one more grade, and graduated its first Tawjihi (grade 12, and senior year in Palestine) class in 1979.

Since its beginning, the doors of Hope School have been open to the community of Ramallah regardless of “religion, gender, capabilities, or financial/social status.” And the Evangelical Lutheran School of Hope has continued to grow through the years. Currently Hope School serves 454 students—22% of whom are Christian, and 78% of whom are Muslim—and employs 38 teachers and support staff.

But, the Evangelical Lutheran School of Hope has been outgrowing its present facilities in recent years, and is, therefore, very excited for this new building project that will enable Hope to grow to serve more than triple the number of students in the Ramallah area.

What an amazing ministry this school is—I’m so glad to be even a tiny part of it!

Fun with English

And then, on February 12th, participants and cheerleaders from each of our ELCJHL Schools gathered for a day full of English, as Dar al-Kalima Evangelical Lutheran School in Bethlehem hosted the fourth annual ELCJHL English Language Bowl.

The day began with pre-bowl pizza and games. The only trick was, the students had to use their English language skills—and only their English language skills. After this, participants split off to receive final instructions, and the cheer teams left to prepare their English language cheers.

In the first round, participants presented a dramatic reading of a prepared text, with marks given passed on pronunciation, eye contact and body language, as well as vocal expression. 8th grade students read from Katherine Peterson’s Bridge to Terebithia, 9th grade students from Louis Sachar’s Holes, and 10th grade students from Rick Riordan’s The Curse of the Titan, the third book in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series.

In the second round, each student had 10 minutes to prepare a freestyle speech on one of two topics picked from a hat, ready for a follow-up question from the judges. Marks were added for organization of ideas, content and grammar.

Each and every one of the students did so well, and we were all so proud, but, most importantly, everyone involved said it was a great day!

You’d be amazed at our students—I know I am every day! Students in each of our schools begin studying English in grade one, or even before, and by the time they reach middle school they’re even beginning to study other courses in the English language. And that’s on top of their German language studies that begin in the 3rd grade.

You may be even more amazed to realize that our students reach fluency in English with only a very small English-language library available to them. But, that is something that the ELCJHL is trying to build upon.

At the beginning of this year, after many hours of research by our ELCJHL teachers, the ELCJHL launched the ELCJHL Libraries Project: Opening a World of Possibilities. The aim of the project is to grow vibrant and educational English-language libraries in each of our four schools—book by book.

Book by Book

And the ELCJHL is inviting you to be a part of this. How? Well, that’s the easy part!

The ELCJHL has already picked out the books and put them online. All you have to do is visit our online store, browse, buy, and send your book(s) to:

ELCJHL Libraries Project
Wartburg Theological Seminary
333 Wartburg Place
Dubuque, IA 52003

Volunteers from Wartburg, the ELCJHL, and people coming to visit the Holy Land will do the rest in getting the books you have given into the libraries of our schools, and into the imaginations of our students.

And, on top of your gift of a book, with every purchase, a donation is given to ELCA Global Mission Missionary Sponsorship for the Middle East.

So, as you begin your Lenten journeys, or search for the perfect present for someone this spring, I invite you to join with the ELCJHL in making this not only an educational month, but an educational year!

Peace,
Elly

ps-for more ‘out-of-the-box’ giving ideas, consider giving directly to ELCA Missionary Sponsorship or to the ELCA World Hunger Appeal. Browse the ELCA Good Gifts catalog. Donate funds to make a difference in the current Crisis in Egypt, or to continued Haiti Earthquake Relief. Or find a creative way to give back in your own community or in your own way.

Christ the King Sunday in Jerusalem

This past Sunday I was invited to preach and to lead worship with the The Lutheran Church of the Redeemer's English-Speaking congregation in Jerusalem (ELCJHL). But I am hoping that my sermon speaks to the wider Body of Christ, too, and so I post it here, and invite you into a time of reflection...

Christ the King Sunday – November 21, 2010
Jeremiah 23:1-6
Psalm 46
Colossians 1:11-20
Luke 23:33-43



Our neighborhood vegetable stand went up in flames this weekend. It’s a much longer story than that, but, for now, that’s enough. It’s the vegetable stand that many of us living on the Mount of Olives use on a daily basis. And, even if a day passes by without going in to fetch some cucumbers and tomatoes or some mint, most of us at least walk past it. Normally, it is full to the bursting with fruits and vegetables, spices and herbs in colorful and bounteous piles, with waiting boxes of produce outside. But by the end of a long and eventful night this weekend, it was reduced to a smoldering mass of charred vegetables.

I walked by its still-smoking remains yesterday morning for the first time, and as I stood there looking at it, utterly broken, it reminded me of the so many things broken in our world. Of relationships strained. Of whole peoples split apart. Of war. Of our world crying for justice…

And it was almost too much, as there are moments in this place that just are too much. But then I remembered, too, a small child, born into the midst of a dark world in order that there might be light and life abundant. I remembered the one with the gall to eat with sinners, and the authority to forgive sin. And I remembered the one who, for our sake, would die, broken on a cross, in order to mend our broken world.

I remembered that it is into this very brokenness that God has entered, so that, through God, our brokenness might be mended and our lives, our relationships, and all of creation be made whole again

But, why then, does the world still feel broken. Why are their burnt down veggie stands on our streets, and broken relationships in our midst? If God has already reconciled to Godself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, then why does brokenness pervade still?

The tradition of Christ the King Sunday–today–hasn’t been around for very long. In fact, it has only been celebrated on the last Sunday of the Liturgical calendar since the late 1960s. It was officially instituted to proclaim the authority and power of Christ in the face of rising secularism and nationalism. More importantly, it proclaims a different kind of authority, and a different use of power, one rooted in love, for the sake of the other—for the sake of the whole of all creation.

And, although, growing up, I passed over Christ the King Sunday as merely the long-awaited end of the church year, so excited to go back to the beginning again with Advent—yes, I was a liturgical nerd, even then—thinking of the liturgical calendar as a cyclical turning seems to fit better for me. As the celebration of Christ the King flows into the beginning of Advent. As our waiting for the final renewal of all creation and our celebration of the coming of the Christ child merge into one at the turning of the year.

For the power and authority proclaimed in the celebration of Christ the King is the power and authority of one who was born a babe among us, in need of Mary and Joseph’s love and care; the power and authority of one who dwelt among us, reaching out to the poorest of the poor in spite of the ruling powers; the power and authority of one who, forsaking his power to save himself, died among us, broken on a cross, reaching out in love with forgiveness to the one who hanged beside him; the power and authority of one who has risen from the grave and is reconciling all creation to God.

And as we trust the good news, we proclaim the promised reconciliation, even in the face of sinfulness and brokenness, because it is rooted in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ Jesus. And we live in the paradox of what Lutherans often call the ‘already but not yet’.

Christ is arisen! Christ is arisen, indeed! we proclaim. Mary Magdalene, Simon Peter, and John have ‘already’ found the tomb empty, and the Lord arisen—as Pastor Fred preached about last Sunday. And we wait in the moments of ‘not yet’ signaled by burnt out veggie stands for the promised final reconciliation of God.

And when the flames threaten us, in the midst of the most difficult moments of our lives, we proclaim the texts like those of this morning: In the face of earthquakes we proclaim with Psalm 46, “though the earth make shake, though the mountains tremble, you God are here.” Confronted with conflict, we proclaim with the writer of the letter to the Colossians “for in Christ all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through Christ God was pleased to reconcile to Godself all things, whether on earth or in heaven.” And when we question God’s forgiveness and reconciliatory power in our lives, we trust the Word that speaks to us, saying “Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

And Christ enters into our places of deep brokenness, still. Christ dwells with us in those places. Christ abides with us here. For, as firstborn of the new creation, Jesus Christ invites us to live, here and now, in the new creation, reaching out in love of God and love of neighbor with God’s reconciling power.

And true reconciliation will come to this place, a reconciliation that will truly heal divisions of time, of land, of peoples. Perhaps it will come in sweeping change. Maybe it will come in small, almost imperceptible steps. But God’s reconciling powers are at work in this place, as surely as God is present in this place, in joy and in sorrow, in places of relative wholeness, and in places of deep brokenness, even in burnt out vegetable stands.

And until that day of full reconciliation comes, we will continue to work with God for justice, walking alongside one another as sisters and brothers in Christ—as sisters and brothers in God’s creation—as Christ walks with us.

Ana Sakni Hon...

These past weeks I have been waiting for the time to write a proper ‘first blog post’. I kept thinking the time would present itself. I kept saying, “Tomorrow. Tomorrow there will be time to sit and to write and to craft…” But I have come to the realization that, if I wait until there is time to write the perfect ‘first blog post’ I will simply never write anything—ever!

And so introductions will have to wait, or come along the way. Because, for now, life is happening—bursting at the seams—and it is time to tell the stories, whether introductions have been made or not.

It has only been 10 days so far, but it feels as though it has been months. Most of the time the fact that I am living in Jerusalem seems completely normal, but then it will hit me again, and I’ll get this incredulous grin on my face as I say to myself “I live in Jerusalem.”

It’s actually one of the phrases I have learned in Arabic already!

I was walking through the Old City of Jerusalem with Fred and Gloria Strickert (the new Pastor of the English-speaking congregation that worships in the St. John’s Chapel of the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer and his wife who is a Diaconal Minister and Hospital Chaplain) and Russ and Anne Siler (who used to serve at the English-speaking congregation) when I was asked by one of the shopkeepers “Where do you live? Where do you come from?” Without thinking I answered “USA.” Russ stopped me on the spot and said, “No, you don’t. You live here. ‘Ana sakni hon.’”

Ana sakni hon. I live here.

Or more specifically: Ana sakni fil Jebel az-Zeitun Mutallah. I live on the Mount of Olives at Augusta Victoria Hospital.

And, as new as it is, I do. I live here. I have settled into my apartment. I am enjoying my delicious breakfast each day—included with my apartment. I have found my walking route into the Old City and back. And I was able to follow the directions to a falafel place for lunch yesterday—take a right as you leave the Church of the Redeemer, take your first left, go past the Church of the Holy Sepluchre, then hang a right...

Okay, so maybe it’s not quite all ‘normal’ yet. I hope it never will be. I kind of like the feeling of that incredulous grin sweeping across my face: “I live in Jerusalem. Ana sakni hon.”