Only at Christmas Through the barrier and checkpoints, Palestinian Lutherans struggle to maintain a sense of family Only at Christmastime is Jumana Khoury (name changed to protect the family), 25, not afraid to walk out the door of her home into Jerusalem’s Old City. Every time she leaves she risks being arrested by Israeli police.
Khoury, a native of Bayt Jￄ?llￄ?, a mostly Christian village five miles away, married her husband, Hanna, six years ago at the outbreak of the second Palestinian intifada (uprising). Twice she’s applied for a Jerusalem residency permit based on “family reunification.” Twice the Israeli Ministry of Interior has denied her request with no explanation. Since then she’s lived in Jerusalem illegally with her husband, a legal resident, and their son, 15-month-old Michael. But it’s different at Christmas. More permits at Christmas “At Christmas [the Israelis] give more permits for Christians and allow Christians to be [in Jerusalem], so if I am stopped by soldiers I have [the right] to be here,” she says. It’s also the only time of the year she and the baby can freely cross the checkpoint at Bethlehem to visit her family in Bayt Jￄ?llￄ?—and then return home without worry they’ll be detained by soldiers. But Christmas comes only once a year. Usually, Khoury rarely ventures outside the walls of the Old City, believing soldiers there have seen her so often they assume she’s a legal resident. Outside the walls, she fears police won’t recognize her and may ask for identification. About four times a year she risks traveling an hour or more to take Michael to see her parents. It was once a 15-minute drive on the Bethlehem-Jerusalem Road. Now she climbs across an uncompleted section of the Israeli-built separation wall outside Abￅﾫ Dis. Then she hires two or three taxis that take a winding alternate route through the desert to Bayt Jￄ?llￄ?. Once the wall is completed, this path will be closed to them too. But a Jerusalem ID won’t make reaching her family easier. Israel doesn’t permit people with Jerusalem or Israeli IDs to enter Palestinian territories. Recently the Israeli government said it would review family reunification applications for women over 25 and men over 35, so Khoury reapplied for a residency permit. She and her husband, a carpenter’s assistant, moved out of his parents’ tinywalk-up apartment so they can get electricity, phone and property-tax bills in their names. It’s something they need to prove residency in the city—and something they can hardly afford on his salary. Separating families
Nearly a third of the congregation’s 80 families are adversely affected by the wall, the lack of residency permits or both, he says. The wall has separated 23 families from relatives, schools and workplaces. At least six families struggle with residency permit issues where one spouse is a Jerusalem resident and the other has West Bank residency. Often the spouse without the permit will even stay home out of fear while the rest of the family attends worship services. Azar describes the congregation as split into three: • One part lives before the A-Ram checkpoint inside the Jerusalem municipal boundaries on the Rￄ?m Allￄ?h-Jerusalem Road. • Another part resides between the A-Ram checkpoint, the Qalandiya checkpoint and the partially constructed wall. • The third lives completely behind the wall. When the wall is finished, people living behind it will be forced to go through both the Qalandiya andA-Ram checkpoints to get into Jerusalem, making their lives increasingly difficult, Azar says. “It is now a long process for the whole congregation to meet together,” Azar says. “When we have youth group meetings or children’s outings it’s not easy to do. Children behind the wall are forced to do activities in each other’s homes.” Sunday services begin at 9 a.m., but the church doesn’t start to fill up until almost an hour later as people trickle through checkpoints, Azar says. Sometimes it takes members two hours, and they arrive in time for coffee following the service. Many members see each other only at Christmastime when movement through the checkpoints is relatively easy, the pastor says. Azar worries that some members will grow tired and stop coming to church. Some families worship at the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Hope, Rￄ?m Allￄ?h, but their real connection is to Redeemer, where their family and friends are, he adds. Firas Abu Liel, 12, wants to be a pastor when he grows up. This year he’s to play Joseph in the Christmas play at Redeemer, but he worries he’ll miss the performance. Abu Liel’s home is enclosed between A-Ram and Qalandiya checkpoints and the wall. “If we have to be at the play at 6 p.m., we will have to leave here at 3 p.m.,” says Abu Liel’s dad, Samer. The 37-year-old father supports his family of six with the $670 he makes each month as a maintenance man for St. George’s [Anglican] School in Jerusalem. Already he’s been reprimanded for tardiness due to delays at the A-Ram checkpoint. He worries that when the wall is completed, he’ll be forced to walk through the Qalandiya checkpoint in addition to the A-Ram checkpoint every day. Losing their rights
Although the whole family has Jerusalem IDs—mother Mira, a native of Bethlehem, received hers some 18 years ago—they’ve been told their neighborhood will no longer be considered part of Jerusalem, so they’ll lose their social welfare rights. Already they’ve received a letter from the Israeli government, saying their health-care coverage has been withdrawn. The Abu Liels feel helpless—they can’t afford the skyrocketing rents in Jerusalem. Mira Abu Leil used to visit her mother in Bethlehem several times a week before the intifada. Now she makes the trip once a month. Once the wall is completed, she won’t be able to make even those visits. Every Christmas, though, when the checkpoints are more lax, the family visits Bethlehem after church services in Jerusalem. This year they plan to do the same. But as the wall nears completion, uncertainty hangs over them like a heavy burden, Samer Abu Leil says. Despite Israeli assurances that freedom of worship during holidays will be ensured as it has in the past, Mira Abu Leil is anxious. Every night, as she reads Bible stories to her children and they say their prayers, she frets about the future. |
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| Mark Pedersen - 10/17/2007 |
Funny thing that the REASON for these tight security measures isn't mentioned with one word.. As a fellow Lutheran....indeed as a fellow CHRISTIAN I sympathize with the plight of our brothers and sisters in Jerusalem. Having lived in the city for 6 months means that I've experienced life in Jerusalem first hand. I just find it important to mention the reason why Israel has to take these actions - self-defence, from the wackos who've been decieved by satan into believing that blowing themselves up, and taking innocent civilians with them, will earn them 72 virgins in paradise. So until terrorism stops, Israel is fully justified in defending itself. |
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