CPTnet
Hebron: Asperges
October 17, 2002
By Donna Hicks

'Asperges', I am told, is from the Latin, meaning 'sprinkle.'. For the
Anabaptist constituency, that is not the way to baptize. For me, as an
Episcopalian, that is the way to baptize, at least when I was baptized as a
two month old almost 55 years ago. But that's not what I want to talk
about.

When a casket is brought into the narthex of the church for the requiem
eucharist or burial office, water is sprinkled on it and prayers are prayed.
Sometimes when we renew our baptismal vows at the Easter Vigil or on All
Saints' Day or one of the other appointed days for baptism, we get sprinkled
with holy water.

At the Eucharist with the September CPT delegation, we began the liturgy
with asperges. One of the delegates lifted high one of those pitchers with
the thin spout and poured water into a basin with two olive branches in it.
Then the sprinkling of our little congregation began. We were reminded of
the preciousness of water in this part of the world. Standing in the hot
sun, the sound of the water striking the basin was refreshing.

While walking down Shuhada Street one day, two Israeli settler boys spat at
us. They missed, but the street got sprinkled. While walking on Tariq ibn
Ziad Street late one afernoon, Palestinian schoolboys spat at us. They
didn't miss. So my shirt got sprinkled. Walking through the Palestinian
market underneath the Avraham Avinu settlement the other day, a basin of
wash water got thrown down towards us. No direct hit, but some spattered
on us and the merchants whose shops had opened that day.

And the dust. How many times have we been sprinkled with dust as we ride
the back roads to get to Beit Ummar or Bethlehem or Jerusalem? Or when the
Israeli soldiers spin the wheels of the jeeps barreling down Tariq ibn Ziad
Street to scatter the children who are only trying to go to school? Or when
we cross the barrier at the Halhoul Bridge and the wind whips across the
road and dust gets in our eyes and up our noses? Or walking the farm roads
in the Beqa'a Valley because Palestinian cars and vans cannot travel in the
area.

Each time I have been sprinkled, or nearly so, I am reminded of the question
asked when we renew our baptismal vows: "Will you strive for justice and
peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?"

And the answer echoes in my mind and spirit, body and soul: "I will with
God's help."
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