Ancient Roads and Tunnels

After Jesus' resurrection He appeared to many different people in many different places.  In Luke's gospel (Chapter 24) he refers to a road seven miles outside of Jerusalem where two men were walking towards the village of Emmaus. The ancient stones are still there in large part and after a bit of bushwhacking we found ourselves walking the road to Emmaus.  I can imagine the scene - a friend and I are walking on the road away from Jerusalem after the most wild event in our current history has just taken place, the biggest prophet of our time was just handed over to crucifixion by the high priests, his body can't be found in the tomb and people say they saw angels!
Maybe I'm on my way to my mother's who lives in Emmaus to tell her about what happened.

On the road another traveler catches up to us (we like to take frequent breaks and enjoy some shade and olives from the trees!).  He is also coming from the direction of Jerusalem and he asks us, "What are you guys talking about?" "Seriously buddy? You didn't hear about Jesus rising from the dead?  Everyone's talking about it.  What, do you live under a rock?  I mean, I know there's a lot of rocks here in the Promised Land, but come one!" But the man continues to ask questions and so I tell him the story of the prophet's crucifixion and the business of his missing body and sightings of angels.  Then he says to me, "What you're saying sounds like the fulfillment of the scripture and the prophecies of the messiah." He then goes on the explain the scriptures in a whole new way that leaves me feeling like I've had a revelation.  When we come to my home I insist that he stay with us, though he looks like he's got places to be.  At dinner he breaks the bread and in that moment I see that this is Christ, the one who has risen, and then He is gone.
I'm going to get theological on you for a second here so bear with me.
These two are on a journey, as we all are.  We meet people on the journey and we are immediately suspicious or skeptical of them because that is the world we live in.  "If you're from there, why don't you know about this?" But we continue to walk with them and talk with them and something that has been an essential part of our identity (in this case of two Jews walking on the road, the scripture would have been something that is a core part of cultural identity) begins to transform as we see it through the eyes of others.  Just like a friendship that is formed, we don't say, "Well, we need to have coffee, then lunch, then play some basketball, and then go out to the bar with my group of friends and then we'll be friends." There is instead a moment when you just realize, I have built a relationship with this person and I care about what they are going through so much that I will let it affect my actions.  Joy that comes from this relationship, I believe, comes from the sense of being more then yourself because you forget your self and give up those selfish desires in order to truly be present with this other person, for it is in these moments of selflessness that we see the world in a new way, from their perspective - moments of revelation.  Glimpses like that show us how short sighted we can be, limited to just our self.  A personal example is how I love being around children just for this reason, they see the world with new eyes.  And what does Christ say about children, but that whoever takes the view of a child shall take the greatest place in heaven (Matthew 18).  So too, in this same chapter Jesus says that wherever two or more are gathered in His name (i.e. with intentions to love their neighbor) I am present.

But you're saying, "But as soon as they knew it was Jesus, He vanished! What's up with that?" Once they knew that all their revelations had come through the power of the risen Christ, they did not need Him there because He was in their burning hearts - and like I said earlier, He's got places to be!
After this revelatory walk we ascended to the church of Notre Dame Arc D'Alliance.  We had our last Eucharist in this place where the Arc of the Covenant once rested for sixty years.  It was made even more special by our new tribal property (Behold the Man group property to be left here at St George's for future groups) a new censer.  The old thurifer in me (and the everpresent pyrotechnic) really wanted to add some smoke and sweet smells to our liturgy and in the old city those apparatus abound.  We broke in the new thurible during this last breaking of bread and it was pretty epic if I do say so myself!

Speaking of epic, after lunch Fr Andrew led us on quite an adventure to the City of David and Hezekiah's tunnel.
In 710 BC (note the BC part, so 2700 years ago) King Hezekiah ordered a tunnel to be built from the spring that was outside the city walls to channel water into a retaining pool inside the city.  It's just over a kilometer long and today it's a popular site for local children to take field trips.  The tunnel is long, low, narrow and has water up to about your calves.  The only light is the light you bring and it's best not to get injured or have a heart attack down there because I am not carrying your butt outta there, probably why the demographic was pretty young!  Another aspect of sharing a very small tunnel with a bunch of school children is that it was quite an earful to have all those tiny voices bouncing all over the place, though if I was twelve I would have been shouting and splashing my way through the tunnel too!

The best word for it is unreal.  Imagine 2700 years ago trying to build a tunnel that has a specific slope to carry water underneath the walls of a city chiseled out of solid rock.  They began on both ends and met in the middle!  You can see the place they met because all of a sudden the ceiling jumps up about 20 feet and you realize they went up to high and then had to dig down to make the two tunnel floors even.  The audacity of this project today would be crazy, let alone before there was GPS and modern surveying equipment - though I guess it's just another example of how they were just a lot smarter back then!  The tunnel ultimately leads to the pool of Shiloam where Jesus heals the man born blind.  It's believed that the pool was a place to purify yourself before going up the steps to enter the temple.  The tunnel is not an experience to miss in Jerusalem!
After our Holy Moley  experience (too punny?)we went home and got cleaned up for our final reception and graduation.  Fr Andrew and Fr Crouse presented us with our certificates and Trina and Honey treated us to champagne toasts and delicious Glennfiddich (my alcohol fast was over!).  Joseph presented us with the best meal yet which was roast lamb, rice and multiple salads, one of which was pretty much guacamole - my fave!
As the wine flowed it began to sink in that our time was drawing to a close.  There were no tears, but there was definitely some mist by about the fourth glass of cab!  What an amazing time in such an amazing place.  This country is bountiful, beautiful, peaceful, with it's moments of conflict and violence all at the same time - and I doubt any of that is going to change.  I am so thankful to have had time to really reflect and to connect with this Holy Land.
Tomorrow is our last day (even though it's tomorrow already) but I don't think I'll be able to post so thanks for reading!  I'll keep writing but the posts will have a serious shift in topic - still waiting for the inspiration.
Much love to all!

Walking with Christ

The Suffering Servant - it is difficult for me to fathom the Love of God and the Love of Christ.  The challenge comes not in the historical sense, I know the stories, Christ is God in flesh and for this reason it should be simple to understand the Love of God through Christ, it's the reason Jesus came to teach.  My challenge comes when Jesus stands trial before Pilate.  Earlier we had visited Ecce Homo, Behold the Man, the site where the trial took place.  Pilate even says, "I find no fault in Him." Yet it is the people who cry for His crucifixion.  Jesus stands in silence - accepting responsibility.  The combination of these two traits is what is so challenging for me personally.  I can usually not stay silent for long periods in general nevermind when people are hurling false accusations my way!  And accepting responsibility is something I think most of us struggle with - there is always a scapegoat or a reasoning we can take that will shift the blame.  Yet Christ embodies humility and strength to the fullest in these moments and as a result bears His cross towards Golgatha.

On this day we walk with Him.  The stations of the cross are along the Via Delorosa, a path that wanders through all of the quarters of the Old City - Jewish, Muslim, Armenian and Christian.  One might refer to this path as an urban river or living river, with all of the masses crowded together.  The river is calmer in the early morning though and we began at 6, walking in silence.  As we passed through Herod's Gate on the north side of the city, we heard the cock crow and got chills as the memory of Peter's denial and the cock crowing was fresh in our minds.  While the shops were closed and the streets were much less kinetic the path was still alive.  As we bore the cross from one station to the next we had to avoid cars, school children, street sweepers and, of course, lots of cats.
Yet amongst the life and the distractions of the city streets it was not hard to imagine Christ walking along the road.  Receiving jeers, taunts, projectiles and more, Jesus carried His cross towards His death.  His supporters were not to be found as they too might have joined Him by association.  There is a moment though where Jesus sees His mother Mary and a disciple is with her.  In this moment, Jesus does one of the most human things I can think of and in all practicality tells His friend, "You have to take care of my mother now."  There is no dramatic moment or final goodbyes, just practical compassion.  "Take care."
The road ends at the Church of the resurrection, an enormous church that covers both Calvary Rock, on which Jesus was crucified, and the tomb in which He was buried.  The line for the tomb is always full of people behind police barricades even at 6 in the morning, so instead we waited for our chance to reach down and feel the hole in which the cross rested to crucify Christ, for without death there cannot be new life.  Powerful.
Fr Andrew led us down deeper into the quarry from ancient times that is just behind and below Golgatha.  In this deep dark place we pondered the idea of "living rock."  Christ is the rock of the church and is alive within us and between us.  To share that space with men that I have come to call brothers was extremely special and holy.  Certainly, the Spirit dwelt among us.
After visiting a tomb near Jesus' just to see what it would have been like - a hole in the rock - it was still early in the day but many of us were tired so we returned to St George's for some naps.

The roof of the Dead Sea Scrolls

That afternoon we took advantage of the new light rail train.  We rode the train, which is very efficient, clean and quick, to the Israeli Museum.  The museum is home to the Dead Sea Scrolls.  The scrolls themselves look like old paper, not surprisingly, but the building that protects them is pretty magnificent.  This fountain is the roof of the building, unfortunately camera's were not allowed inside.

JJ next to the sculpture

One of the main attractions along with the scrolls is an enormous model of ancient Jerusalem.  There is a free audio tour and it was really interesting to see what the old Temple might have looked like and to learn about the process of how people would enter the temple mount to make their sacrifices.  The museum itself has quite a good cross-section of art, archaeology, old outfits for different races and roles, sculpture and history.  Van Gogh, Monet, Warhol, and so many in between, with a focus on Jewish artists, combine to make quite an exhibition.

I'm just messing with you on this one!

After our long trek and some delicious dinner I had a wonderful relaxing evening with Fr Eric and my father as we enjoyed an apple flavored water pipe!  Something I definitely never expected to share with my pops!  It was a great finish to another phenomenal day.

Mounting the Mount - In a Purely Spiritual Way

We rose early this morning to try and beat the crowds to the Temple Mount, site of the Dome of the Rock.  The Rock is Islam's 3 most Holy Site for it is the place of the "Binding of Isaac" aka the site where Abraham, Father of All, almost sacrificed his son.  We arrived just after it opens at 8am.  The line was unreal.  Bus after bus lined the street in front of us and our leader, Fr. Andrew, was just a teensy bit annoyed.  But we turned the other cheek and saw this as an opportunity for fellowship and cogitation on the experience we were about to enjoy.  One reason Fr was frustrated and we were not is because we were oblivious to the fact that the temple mount closes to Gentiles (non-believers i.e. non-Muslims) at 10am and since the line was probably over an hour long, I can understand his dilemma.  Around 9:20 we passed through the bottleneck of security and made it inside the Holy Mount.

The temple mount is a bit of a misnomer because there is no temple there.  The Dome is a protective covering and a place of Holiness but it is not even a mosque.  The mosque is on the south side of the mount and at one time in the Ottoman history was the furthest mosque from Mecca.  As guests in this Muslim controlled, Israeli protected area we began our quick tour around the grounds.  The space is a stark contrast from the rest of the old city because it is wide open.  Space abounds in the white tiled plaza and before the real praying began it was relatively devoid of Muslims.  We were instructed not to bring Bibles with us as it might imply that we were trying to hold a service there and according to many signs that is "Strictly Forbidden."  Clearly not fully understanding the situation, one of my most memorable moments begins...

First, a note about this sacred and holy space - Jews are strictly forbidden from the temple mount at all times.  Incidents in the past have led to the current situation, such as a Jew bringing a rock into the temple mount and placing it on the ground in a form of dedication ceremony for the new temple that will be built.  Jews believe that the Messiah cannot come until there is a temple built for His reception and since the temple has been destroyed a new one must be built.  Such instances have led to the closure of the mount to all Jews.  Of course, this can be challenging because, "What does a Jew look like?" They could certainly be amongst the thousands of tourists and pilgrims that enter the mount daily.  So without getting too involved in the politics (too late, I know!) it's a bit ironic that Israeli's are "guarding" the mount from Jews for the Muslims, but that is the status quo for now.  Back to my moment...

Not realizing the full extent of our "guest" status in this Holy place, but knowing that it is Holy for me, along with everyone else in the religious world, I wanted to "make a memory" in this place.  In the other places we've visited this has taken the form of kneeling on stone and focusing on being present.  I was aware that I was not allowed to worship formally so I tried to maintain an upright posture and not move into the typical prostrated positions Muslims assume in their ritual.  However, as soon as I got on my knees, I saw a man clad in a black police uniform start to move in my direction.  He was about 500 feet away and I thought perhaps he was just on a routine round, but I knew.  As he came to my side he asked, "Where are you from?" Before I could respond, Fr Andrew, who must have been seeing the scene unfold stepped in immediately.  Pulling me to my feet he said, "He's not praying.  We're not here for that." And the Israeli officer gave me a nod and kept walking.  A quick and simple exchange, but already I could feel anger and frustration building within me.

The closing hour was upon us and we moved out of the temple mount and down to the Western Wall.  It was a blur for me because I could not stop thinking about this exchange.  Was Abraham not the father of all?  Is the Old Testament not part of my history as well?  Can I not be reverential in this Holy place?  These thoughts stayed with me until I was at the foot of the wall, as close as God's Chosen People are allowed to be to their most sacred place.  It was there at the wall of lamentations or "The Wailing Wall" that I realized the gift God had given me - and I was grateful.

So easy is it to forget the blessing of freedom, especially for a man like me who has never experienced even the slightest bit of religious persecution (not that you could even call my experience persecution).  It did serve as a crystal clear reminder to me though about the true persecution that has happened for thousands of years and still happens to hundreds of thousands if not millions or even billions of people still today (pardon my hyperbole).  

As I stood with people who pray at a wall for it is the closest they can get to their Holy place, those same people who still hold the memory of seeing their temple viciously destroyed and can only look in from the fringe, I am grateful.  I have prayed and said aloud the name of Christ in places across this country in the past week without any sort of judgement at all.  I live in a land that is founded on the very principle of freedom.  Just later this same day I would walk the steps of Jesus and dwell in the prison that held him and consider those places just as sacred if not more so then the rock under the dome.  I had no right to be frustrated or angry at all.  I am blessed in so many ways and yet I still forget and take them for granted.  We all need reminders like that and I am thankful for mine.

After the wall we went and saw the ruins of the old temple itself and those feelings were even more affirmed.  We walked up the actual steps to what would have been the old entrance to the temple that Jesus, on His yearly pilgrimages would have ascended.  We saw an animated video that described the history of this land and all who have conquered and then ultimately been thrown down, which is as much a part of this place as the humus has been with every meal!

We continued our journey to St Peter in Gallicantu or Peter the Rooster (Cock), where Peter's denial of Jesus three times is remembered and is on the site of the jail that held Jesus on the night before His crucifixion.  The cell was quite remarkable and powerful and the sanctuary is simply stunning.  As with so many of our pictures this one does not do it justice, but it's a start.

The rest of the day unfolded in a restful way with shopping and ultimately we were able to find a gift for my mama (not telling you what it is is, mom!) and a censer to use in our last Eucharist.  Being a professional thurifer it was something that I was very keen on, fortunately I had JJ with me to do the negotiating - not one of my strong suites nor is it something I enjoy.  The censer (a lantern of sorts that holds lit charcoal on which you burn incense, used on high Holy days in the church) is a beautiful gold and silver plated lantern with Armenian ceramic crosses baked onto the sides.  I'm excited to break it in with some solid figure 8's!

What a wonderful day, like so many others, filled with challenged assumptions and reminders of how blessed I am for all the freedoms, relationships and abilities I enjoy daily.  Thank you Lord!

A Walk in the Garden

To begin our exploration of the Passion of Christ we descended into the Kidron Valley, one of three valleys that run through Jerusalem.  The Passion refers to the week leading up to Christ's crucifixion and resurrection and is remembered by the church during Holy Week.  In the area of the Garden of Gettsemane we began at Dominus Flavit, the Lord Weeps.  He wept because it was in this moment, alone and separate from His apostles, Jesus asks the Lord to "take this cup from me."(Luke 22:42)  While He is fully God, Jesus reveals that He too is fully human.  Yet He seeks to do God's will and so He submits to what He knows will ultimately be His death.  The view from the sanctuary in Dominus Flavit faces west across the Kidron valley to where the temple once stood in Jerusalem but where now the focal point is the Dome of the Rock. (see picture)

Along with the Garden, the Mt of Olives is also the site of hundreds and maybe even thousands of tombs.  The dead cover the hill because the top of the hill is where Jesus ascended to heaven and so too it's believed that He will return in the same fashion.  So those souls buried here on the Mt of Hope (as Fr Andrew refers to it) do so because they hope that they will be the first to be reborn.  Thus, while we did linger under an olive tree as we contemplated Jesus' time in the garden before being betrayed by Judas, the photo ops were graveyard heavy (I was too deep in meditation to take a picture of the garden!).
Our journey continued in relative chronological order as we visited Ecce Homo, the place where Jesus' mock trial by Pontius Pilate was held and Jesus was ultimately condemned by the people He was there to save.  Ecce homo is Latin for Behold the Man, what a fitting place for us to visit! The name refers to John's gospel in chapter 19 when Pontius sarcastically says to the people, after clothing Jesus in a royal robe and a crown of thorns, "Behold the Man." Pilate says this just after saying that he found no fault with Jesus yet the crowds demand for Him to be crucified.  The scene took place on the Roman tiles in court and those same stones are still there today, though they are beneath the contemporary street level.  Like so much other history in the city, it has been buried by time and construction.  You can still see ruts in the stones where carts traveled millenias ago.  Wow.  Powerful.

Then we walked back through the old city for lunch and our first "free afternoon" began.  We didn't stop and returned to the old city to the very epicenter of where it all began in Jerusalem - the City of David.  The City of David is the oldest and most original part of Jerusalem.  It's also just a small section of the old city as it was added to by conqueror after conqueror.  The city has now been turned into a museum.   Along with having a beautiful piece by Chihuly, there is an animated movie that takes you briskly through the history of conquerors of Jerusalem and some very stunning panoramas and some very old rocks.
After our relatively quick visit we sauntered back from the Jaffa Gate to the Damscus Gate along the top of the ramparts.  The ramparts, or the walls of the old city, are very illuminating because it allows you to look down on the city from a new angle.  From up high and beyond the narrow confines of the maze of alleyways that are full of shops, cats, vendors, food of every kind, huge hanging pigs, children running everywhere, tourists, and general congestion of it all, you get a picture of a real city.  Seeing the apartment buildings, the roof top patios, the school yards with children playing (that's where they all go!), the parked cars, the hanging laundry and the one thing that is consistent across all religions and races - the big black solar water heaters dot every single rooftop in this entire country - it all really makes me realize that this is actually a functioning home for thousands and not just the bargaining bonanza that you see from the tourist point of view.
I have really begun to love this city and I can see why so many others love it as well.

Mountaintop Experience

After an exhilarating and spiritually fulfilling time on and near the Sea of Galilee we left the convent, not without reluctance.  The eve of our departure, my dad took me out to the gardens and we enjoyed gazing at the stars, contemplating the longevity of those celestial sentients and how they were burning in the time of Christ and will be burning long after we are gone.  All in all our time by the sea was very humbling, as we explored the real human side of the man Jesus - as we Beheld the Man!

Before leaving the hills of Galilee we ascended to the top of Mt Tabor, the tallest peak in the Galilee area and the site of the transfiguration.  The synoptic Gospels and 2 Peter refer to the moment that Christ ascended into heaven to join the other prophets, Moses and Elijah, from a mountain.  As Mt Tabor is the only real mountain in the region, it's believed to be the site of the ascension.  Bridging heaven and earth in His resurrection and ascension this is mystical and magical place.  To receive the Eucharist in this place was truly special, even more so because we were able to take our own space in the forest atop the mountain and really listen.  The day was hazy and it was difficult to see the surrounding pastures and plains.  We really felt like we were in a new place, a place where the Spirit dwelt.  Powerful!

The church itself, built by the Crusaders, is spectacular.  With 4 different worship areas all set in the east part of the building so that worshipers are facing the rising sun, it is one of the more enchanted churches in my opinion. (see picture - it doesn't do it justice)

From the top we descended into the desert - Jericho: the oldest and lowest city in the world.  Wow!  The food there is unbelievably sweet and I don't mean in Snickers kind of way.  The environment below sea level in an oasis surrounded by desert produces some of the best fruits and nuts in the world.  After a meal of lamb and chicken kabobs and our first dose of french fries in the Holy Land! we went to a produce market where Najati hooked it up!  Fresh almonds, bananas, dates, "diet dates"(!), and much more abounded.  I picked up some olive oil soap, almonds and peanuts and shared some of Papa's oranges.  So delicious!
After provisioning we were headed home to Jerusalem for some R&R.  We didn't get back to the city till about 3 and after a late night in Galilee star-gazing and late night skyping with family and friends I was just pooped, so I enjoyed a sweet nap and wrote some postcards (I think my count is around 15 - if you don't get one, I apologize, I'm doing my best!).  After dinner a small group went about a block to the Christmas Hotel where there was rumor of some sheesha and a gorgeous courtyard.  For those that don't know, sheeshah is flavored tobacco that you smoke out of a water pipe (not a bong as a few old geezers kept referring to it as!), it's quite classy.  While enjoying a smoke and some tea we struck up a rousing theological conversation and I think I learned something new from everyone in the group.  As Trina (the Dean's daughter) commented, "It was a very American conversation." I can't really describe the conversation more aptly without getting really involved, so I'll leave it at that.  Let me just close by saying that it was one of the more intellectually stimulating evenings I've had on the trip and I will remember it with great clarity.  And now we begin gearing up for the Passion of Christ journey in Jerusalem.