Corona

Let me (B.J.) start by saying that Mike & I are, thankfully, absolutely fine. We’re scheduled to Skype with St. John’s Lutheran in Salisbury, NC, tomorrow, Sunday March 8, early in the 9:27 a.m. service. (Remember to “spring ahead” tonight for Daylight Saving Time.)  🙂

I wanted to post about St. John’s partner church, Christmas Lutheran in Bethlehem, before the Skype visit. But a more pressing matter arose this week: how travel bans, due to fears about coronavirus, are affecting the livelihoods of people we know in Bethlehem and Jerusalem, including the Palestinian workers here at Ecce Homo.

The Church of the Nativity is closed. Bethlehem is on lockdown for a month — people can’t enter or leave. This is stunning news, which will have devastating economic effects. As one article says, this “came as a particular blow to the Biblical town, whose businesses are largely dependent on Christian visitors.”

Those of you who attended the Palestinian lunch at St. John’s in 2014 may remember Joey Canavati, one of the chefs. He’s quoted in the March 5 article below. “‘This affects us dramatically,’ said Joey Canavati, manager of the 58-room Alexander Hotel in Bethlehem. ‘Our workers are essentially laid off… We will be closed down completely.'”

https://www.thestar.com.my/news/world/2020/03/05/palestinian-authority-bars-foreign-tourists-from-west-bank-over-coronavirus

For those of us here at Ecce Homo, there’s a double whammy. Five beloved, valued employees from the nearby Bethlehem area aren’t allowed into Jerusalem — one of our two chefs, a dining room assistant, two housekeepers, and a maintenance man, who count on this paycheck for their families. Also since Thursday, people from France, Spain, Germany, Switzerland, and Austria, can’t enter Israel unless they can prove they have somewhere in Israel to quarantine for two weeks. This is in addition to “foreigners who were in China, Hong Kong, Macau, Thailand, Singapore, South Korea, Japan and Italy in the 14 days prior to arriving.”

As a result, our numbers are way down — many cancellations. There is anxiety among the staff about reduced work hours or even possible layoffs. Your homes and workplaces are probably also abuzz with the topic of coronavirus.

I had trouble sleeping two nights ago, knowing the additional hardship this will cause our affected Palestinian friends, already oppressed, in Bethlehem and here. I tried to focus on “Pray without ceasing” (I Thessalonians 5:17) for them.

Just three days ago, Michael & I took a bus into Bethlehem for a meeting related to a Christmas Lutheran ministry. It was a beautiful sunny day, so I took a photo, with no idea that the Church of the Nativity would be closed two days later.

Bell tower of the Armenian monastery by Church of the Nativity

Wikipedia says that the grotto in the church, believed to be Jesus’ birthplace, “is the oldest site continuously used as a place of worship in Christianity, and the basilica is the oldest major church in the Holy Land.”

Jerusalem and Bethlehem are only about six miles apart, but travel can take a while because of the checkpoint back. (We have to show our passports to re-enter Israel.) In Mike’s & my jaunts to Bethlehem in the past few weeks, we’ve appreciated being able to pop into the Church of the Nativity to admire its renovated frescos.

The entrance is through the “Door of Humility,” about four feet high and two feet wide. One website says it “was created in Ottoman times to prevent carts being driven in by looters, and to force even the most important visitor to dismount from his horse as he entered the holy place.” A University of Notre Dame website says, “The latest resizing was to reduce the opening to prevent a horse from entering. Pilgrims who enter must literally make a profound bow as they pass through. The effect is to experience a birth process of sorts — it reminds us of the humility God took on in joining our humanity.”

 

Exiting the “Door of Humility”

Our hearts ache for Bethlehem people whose names we know, and for those whose names we don’t, like servers at restaurants where we’ve savored lunches, and taxi drivers who’ve implored us to take their taxi instead of walking, for a few shekels of income.

Our Tuesday Bethlehem visit ended with a few minutes with Bassem, another of the chefs from the 2014 St. John’s Palestinian lunch. He’s head of the culinary program at Dar al-Kalima University of Arts and Culture, chef at Abu Jubran Guest House, and his family owns a store of olive wood gifts. We’ve had the pleasure of meeting his wife and daughters. We chatted about his parents, and he invited us for a March 15 after-church lunch he would cook for us. Again, little did we know the world would seem to turn upside-down in two days. We won’t get to see Bassem, Pastors Munther Isaac and Mitri Raheb, or anyone else from Bethlehem,  before we fly home March 31, inshallah (God willing).

Yesterday was a dreary day of rain and even hail. A departing German Ecce Homo guest made the comment that it seemed like Jerusalem was crying.

Last night we had three tables of dinner guests (total of 16 people). Normally, this close to Holy Week, we would have maybe six times that number — maybe 19 or 20 tables filling all three dining rooms.

Mike clearing plates at dinner last night

At first the mood was quiet and somber, with a ghost town feel like after 9/11. But as our guests consumed the delicious soup, salad, fish, and potatoes prepared by our remaining chef, the room came alive with laughter and conversations in Spanish, French, and German.

I quoted I Thessalonians 5:17 earlier in this post. Here it is bookended with verses 16 and 18:

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.