Beginning at the Beginning

For some time I've looked for a writing outlet as well as a way to share my stories.  To be fair, I'm a bit judgmental towards blogs, possibly because I live in such a hipster city that I associate it with skinny jeans - and I like the flexibility of boot cut.  But there were those that said they might read a blog were I to post one so we'll see how this goes.

I begin by writing from St. George's College in Jerusalem a few minutes from the old city walls of Jerusalem.  I am quite blessed to be here as a gift from my father to visit our Father.  I am accompanied by 10 other men (though we were shooting for 12!).  We are pilgrims.  The focus of my time in the Holy Land is Christ.

Clearly, there are so many religions represented here that to suggest that all I'll see and think about is Jesus would be silly.  I am definitely excited to learn about a place that is the crux of the main world religions.  As my father told me yesterday, the Muslim nation help Jerusalem for about 1300 years leading up to the 19th century, so I feel quite blessed that I get to visit in relative safety.

Yesterday we arrived at 9am into Tel Aviv and got things rolling pretty quickly.  After getting settled at St. George's, which we have pretty much to ourselves, and after a delicious meal of lasagna and hummus, we walked into the old city.  Jerusalem is much like other non-Western cities I've visited.  It's a whirlwind of crazy drivers who love their horns, street stalls, lots of walking traffic and vendors vying for attention.  When we actually went through the Damscus Gate into the city I immediately felt like I was back in Bangkok, only the smells were different and there were less transvestites.  The lanes are chock full of stalls selling all that you could need.  Fresh soy beans and fig leaves lead to shoe stores lead to ice cream and huge mounds of spices shaped like pyramids.  People abound and one thing I find interesting is the bumping.  People here bump into each other quite often and it doesn't seem to bother them - not to say it bothers me, I just think it's another thing that sets us apart as Westerners, "Oh, no, please don't touch me!  You might be stealing my wallet."  I did keep my hands in my pockets for safety, though I don't think that makes me racist, does it?

As I was walking, surrounded by all kinds of people and commerce, I tried to imagine Jesus walking through this lane carrying a cross on His way to Golgatha and His crucifixion.  To think that there was a man named Jesus and He walked these streets in bare feet carrying a cross and wearing a crown of thorns is pretty unreal.  In these cramped yet cool alleys, we saw a group of Chinese Christians carrying a wooden cross and it made me smile as God reminded me that Jesus saved everyone and the Love of Christ is for all.

At the Church of the Resurrection and the Holy Sepulchre I really felt transported to another time.  The stonework was clearly age old and magnificent.  Huge spaces with enormous ceilings and massive pillars come together to form the church over the hill where Jesus was crucified and the tomb in which He was buried and then rose from.  Ornate silver lanterns hang everywhere.  Huge mosaics depict Jesus moving from the cross to the tomb while the angels weep.  Light streams through windows high in the cupola and to create beams that illuminate the interior with a sense of awe.  Naturally the church is teeming with pilgrims and tourists all trying to touch the stone of the hill or take a picture touching the stone.

The dichotomy is interesting.  Am I a tourist or a pilgrim?  What distinguishes me from the other?  Does taking a picture make me a tourist?  Does examining a mural of Christ's crucifixion in silence while trying to listen to the Lord speak to me make me a pilgrim?  I'm sure there are those that could get wrapped up in purpose vs reality.  However, I am content by accepting that I am both and that there is not a need for me to distinguish between the two.  I'll take pictures and I'll pray and I'll be a pilgrim on a tour.

Having faith that this place is actually the place where Jesus rose from the dead I am humbled by the idea that at the very least, what happened here 2000 years ago has changed the course of human history in an enormous way, let alone what His Resurrection means to me on an individual level.  Suffice it to say that there is a power to this place and I am blessed to be here and thankful for the way I came to be here and those that I get to share this experience with, especially my Father - who put this trip together.

It's 7:15am Jerusalem time and 11:15pm Austin time.  Breakfast is in 45 minutes and then we'll begin the first full day in the place that has been a center of conflict for millenia upon millenia, yet I am quite serene.  We'll see how that changes.

Let the adventure continue!