To Jericho with Love

We’re in Jericho. We’re with a group of 30-some volunteers organized by “Kids Around the World.” They build playgrounds. The one we’re building was disassembled in a Chicago suburb and is about to experience new use here in the West Bank.

For us, the whole trip is unusual. First, here we are in Palestine. Didn’t they just have another war here a month or so ago? (Or is it a continuation of the same one?) Of course the people are lovely, but crossing into the area is like crossing into Tijuana. There must be one perfect word to describe it but I don’t want to be pajorative.

Second, that a group of us, many strangers to each other until now, and most without any experience in these things, are following minimal instructions, a few photographs (of the playground as it looked in Chicago) and somehow putting this thing up.

From above we must look like a bunch of ants scurrying around, each bumping into one and then another, and then hurrying off to some other occupation, known only to the ant.

Still, Solomon used that lowly creature as role model for the rest of us. “Go to the ant . . . consider her ways and be wise. It has no commander, no overseer or ruler, yet it provides its provisions in summer and gathers its food at harvest. (Proverbs 6:6-8)

I’ve not noticed any ants. Nor do I know how they’d survive. Though there are a few tended green areas for farming, the vast stretches of this place are bone-arid and cement-hard. Seems the land would be more logically named “God Forsaken” than “Promised.”

Why all the fuss about this particular part of the world?

But there’s history here, and principles at stake, and a future predicted. So the citizens go on, and so do we, in this case building a playground.

It’s sort of a cup of cold water in Jesus’ name.

Now and then we encounter hints of the tensions. Arriving at Israel’s Tel Aviv airport a young Jewish woman greeted us with surprise that we’d be going to Jericho, a place she’d never been, nor legally permitted to. Then on the road between our hotel and the work site we pass by a sign telling Israelis to stay away on pain of death. (Note last sentence on red sign, below.)

But we feel no danger. More, a stiffness in the muscles, and a surprising sense of accomplishment as we, like ants, bumble about, and keep working.

If the children who use this playground when its done have half the fun as we’ve had building it, it will have been eminently worth the effort.

Next: A photo of the completed project (God willing).