Our tour continues now, it is in its
6th day (7th if you count the day in transit). Up until now I have had
a feeling of overwhelmed-ness and exhaustion--both physically and
spirtually.
When I
was at breakfast this morning, Ben said something that really rang true
for me. On anything and everything that could even remotely be
considered 'holy' there is a giant church. No expenses were spared when
building these churches and they are beautiful, so beautiful that each
seems to want to outshine the other in beautiful 'holiness'. But that
aside, a question still remains. What about the people here? Didn't
Jesus command us to serve his people, to love others, and to give up
our riches to the poor? Why then would we spend millions building even
more churches that commemorate a history that is long in the past
instead of spending the time and the money dealing with the millions of
poverty-stricken families? Why must our 'expression of love and
devotion to God' be so ostentatious? Couldn't we still show our
devotion to our Saviour in a manner that honors his commandments and
helps his people without spending obscene amounts of money building yet
another cathedral? It just seems so unbalanced that we would spend this
money on, for example, the cathedral that commemorates the rocks in the
Garden of Gesthemene that Jesus may have cried upon (we really are not
sure) but we are unable to find the spare change in our pockets that
would allow a poor man to have lunch or feed his family? Maybe I am
going off on a tirade borne of touring many, many, MANY churches in
this area and being a little 'churched out' but I view this yet another
form of separating society. There are those things that we value,
oftentimes objects that do have a place but it may be misplaced value
or enthusiasm, and then there are those things that we allow to slip
through the cracks. Often times it seems that those things that slip
through are not things, they are people. The very descendents of the
people that have been here since the time of Christ. I understand that
we are to praise God from the heavens, we are to share the Gospel with
others and all that but....in my understanding I would imagine that
giving of yourself, living simply and spreading peace in places of
conflict, joy in times of sorrow, and the love of Christ to all people
is more meaningful then building yet another commerative cathedral. ok.
rant done.
(frustrated and sad sigh)
Anyway.
We went many places today. Saint Anne's Cathedral at Lions Gate was
where we sang hymns in the sanctuary which almost brought me to tears.
The ruins of the pools of Bet Hesda (house of mercy). Saint George's
School and Cathedral (an Anglican community that Stephen and Barbara
have supported from Australia). The Church of All Nations, the Church
of St. Mary Magdalene. They were all beautiful but once again they were
all sort of running together.
We
also went to the Garden Tomb. By all accounts, probably NOT the actual
tomb of Christ but... It is beautiful there. The diversity of the flora
is astounding. The flowers are blooming, the trees canopy over. It just
makes it easier to imagine that Jesus was buried in a place similar to
this. I hope it was, wherever it was, just as beautiful where He was
buried.
Side Note:
saw Jewish Cemetary. They use pebbles to commerate and honor the dead
instead of flowers. I did not see Schindlers tomb however, even though
I did look for it.
Another
Note: During our hymn singing at St. Anne's one of the songs that we
sang was Amazing Grace. But the group that was behind us also joined in
in their own language. This moment of sharing in this age old
hymn--echoing off the walls in the beauty of this place was incredible.
I felt so connected to the global community of Christians at that
moment and it was wonderful.
We
also held communion at the Garden Tomb while it was raining, visiting
Dominus Flavitt, singing 'Sing Alleluia" in chapel time, and talking
with Stephen and Barbara have all made today especially meaningful.
Day 7 (11 May)
Today
was a different sort of day, because my knee has been swollen and
painful I have elected to stay behind in Bethlehem while the rest of
the group went on to listen to speakers ranging from Messianic Jews to
Sabeel and Palestinian Liberation Theology. I would have liked to hear
these discussions but my knee decided otherwise and I thought I should
probably listen to that instead. Jess brought a digital recorder with
her and promised to record the presentations so I could listen to them
later.
An
interesting note about today is that it is Friday. The Muslim Holy Day
(something that I had forgotten about). The shops in the market were
all closed and the streets were empty. I was awakened however by a
volley of gunshots and shouting in the distance. Combined with the
noise of a construction project down the street, it startled me
greatly. But, I had to remind myself yet again of the priveleged life
that we lead in the United States. While random gunfire startles me--it does not even faze the locals. This is their life. This is how they live.
When
Jess and the others came back, my mood was instantly lifted and I
hobbled out of my room to get some fresh air. (no matter what country I
am in, I hate being confined to a small space!) When we went down the
road a bit it struck me how my demeanor has changed sub-consciously
since being over here. At home I would not think twice about looking a
man in the eye when speaking to him or even introducing myself. Here I
tend to keep my eyes lowered, I do not react to the countless calls and
noises that we get when we walk down the street. I do not ignore the
men on the street here, I just do not engage in conversation unless
approached. I know that part of this is probably because of language
barriers, and the patriarchal society that is in existance here, but
this feeling is definitely a new one for me.
Day 8 (12 May)
YAY for incredibly exciting days! (not that this whole trip hasn't been exciting, it has!)
We
are changing our routine today and going to a totally new place. We
will be visiting Wadi Qilt and St. George's Monestary, Jericho,
Zacchaues's Sycamore Tree, Qumran, and (drum roll) the DEAD SEA!
* * * *
In
order to get down to St. George's one has to navigate down a cliff
along a very steep path into the Wadi. This is because the Monestary is
built right into the cliff.
Interesting Note: this is said to be the place that Elijah stayed in a cave and was fed by ravens.
The
desert land is beautiful, barren and wild. It is called the Judean
Wilderness and camel, donkey, goat and sheep roam the hills, tended
primarily by the Bedouin people. I love how empty it is here. It is
truly a place that you can look out over the hills and the rocks and
barrenness and commune with God.
On
the way back up the cliff (what goes down apparently must also come up
in this case) Lorie treated me to a surprise and arranged for one of
the donkey traders to give me a ride on his donkey up the mountain. My
donkey's name was Badullah (or something similar) and my donkey drivers
name was Hassan. Riding the donkey was an interesting and unique
experience. The Bible story of Jesus riding the donkey on Palm Sunday
did come to mind. But a comment that Hassan made did make me sad.
We are a peaceful people but we do not have a peaceful life.
When will the violence and struggle for these people end?
* * * *
Next
stop, Jericho, the oldest city in the world. Estimated by historians
and archeologists to be 10.000 years old. Getting into Jericho seemed
to be a bit tricky this time because we had to go through two
checkpoints, one Palestinian (which went very smoothly) and one Israeli
(not so much). I find it odd and rather disturbing how quickly I have
become accustomed to the sight of soldiers, large guns, armored
vehicles and checkpoints. I am really not sure how ok I am with the
fact that I have desensitized to it so quickly. I might have to
continue pondering that.
We
stopped at Qumran where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found (which was
really interesting). During the time that we were poking about the
heavens opened up and it poured buckets of rain on top of us. We were
caught in a spectacular monsoon in may in the middle east! It was so
awesome because I love storms, and this area has been in the worst
drought in 80 years so I was happy for the area farmers that they get
this much needed rain however....it threatened to cancel our trip to
the Dead Sea which has been on my lists of places to go for years.
I
feel kinda selfish in that regard. I have been able to see many amazing
things, but this is something that I have long desired. Thankfully, we
held a brief council on the bus and we got our wish. The rain stopped
momentarily and we were able to spend about an hour reveling in the
weird sensation of not being able to sink. As we floated we were able
to look out over the horizon into the Kingdom of Jordan, currently
ruled by KIng Abdullah and Queen Raina. Sadly, we will not be going
into Jordan, but I think that I can be satisfied to wait until next
time for that!!
Day 9 ( 13 May)
Today
was our Sabbath, our much needed day of rest! We had church with Rev.
Mitri's congregation here on the same property as ICB and we attended
Christmas Lutheran Church. The service was truly like a balm being
poured out on us tired folk. I know it definitely rejuvinated my
spirits!! We had an English bulletien so it was relatively easy to
follow the order of service, even though everything was in Arabic. But
we did have a couple songs that were translated for us. The singing, oh
my, the singing. The voices raised in unison, one Arabic, one English,
all praising Christ was a beautiful and moving experience. I can hardly
describe it.
After
the service we were graciously invited to share Arabic coffee with the
congregation and have a time of felllowship and conversation. It was
lovely. I love hearing the stories that these people here have to tell
me. Some make me cry, some make me laugh, some confuse me--I will
treasure them all.
It
was after fellowship that we had our most interesting/strange
experience today. A group od us have walked past the same restaurant
everyday as we hike to where we meet our bus in the mornings. The Mariachi Restaurant.
Apparently it is the very first authentic Mexican Restaurant in
Palestine, and since we were feeling adventerous we decided to try it!
The
menu is in Arabic and Spanglish, which is quite funny and fascinating
at the same time. The food however was incredibly tasty and unique. I
have no complaints, although I was struck by the ironies as we sat
there in Palestine, listening to Patsy Cline, eating "frijoles" with
feta cheese on them and gazing at the random sombreros that were stuck
haphazardly to the walls.
Good times indeed!
