Stations of the Cross

Somewhere in or near Jerusalem is the tomb of Jesus, perhaps in the huge church of the Holy Sepulchre near the center of the old city, maybe at the alternative location called the Garden Tomb (a very lovely place and blessedly quiet, even if it's 'only' a good example of the same kind of thing). Many people I've talked to have helped me by admitting we don't know, or even admitting that their particular location probably isn't the exact spot where something happened. These details don't matter. When we visit the tomb of Jesus, we'll always find that he isn't there.

On Friday I joined the Franciscans for the Stations of the Cross, which they do every week. The Stations are along the Via Dolorosa, which winds through the Arab quarter of the city and ends inside the Holy Sepulchre church. There's a copy of the fourteen stations inside every Catholic church - sometimes with images or text, sometimes just fourteen simple numbered crosses, but they'll be there somewhere.

The way they do this here is very simple, and beautiful. There were a small group of Franciscan brothers in their brown habits, and at each station they would stop, explain the station and read the appropriate scripture passage. They did this in three languages - Italian, English, and Spanish. Then they'd move on, saying enough prayers as we walked for everyone to arrive before reading the next station.

These streets are narrow, and during the day they are just regular streets with neighbors and shops and other traffic. So at times we needed to make an aisle for others to pass on whatever their business might be. It's a peaceful kind of commotion, though - not the noise and confusion I imagine happened on the first Good Friday.

It's hard to picture this as the place where Jesus was crucified and buried. The city has expanded since then, and a spot which was once outside the walls is now right in the center of the city. Also, a church has been built on that spot, and undergone a few cycles of expansion, destruction and rebuilding. Never mind that. The Franciscans here do end with the unofficial 15th station, the Resurrection, and we sang an Easter song, Regina coeli, laetare.

There is a place outside the city walls called the Garden Tomb, which most archaeologists say isn't the actual tomb of Jesus. But it is a tomb from around the same time period, and a lovely place which has been kept green. I was going to sit here quietly and meditate, but ended up singing a lot of revival hymns with an irresistable group from Kenya. Peter, their pastor, sends greetings to you.

Independence

Some people have asked what evidence there was of the 4th of July in Jerusalem, and the answer is: none at all. I nearly forgot what day it was, except that it was most definitely Friday (that's another post).

Having been reminded, it is a good excuse to think about the fact that I'm in a place whose own declaration of independence happened exactly 60 years ago and is still remembered by many people. A copy of that declaration is found at the final stop of the Yad VaShem Holocaust memorial, and looks very much like the USA document, with all the signatures at the bottom. There is also a film of Ben Gurion making a speech explaining what is happening, what they are doing.

But I think independence is available to everyone regardless of what moment we are at in history. There is a way of praying that Moshe showed me, where before you eat you dip a little piece of bread in salt and taste it. To him it means that "if you have bread and salt, you have the basics and that is enough." Taking something with a grain of salt means thinking for yourself. Traveling in a place with so much diversity of thought, religion, language and culture, will either make you crazy, or force you, help you, to think for yourself, to be independent.

Yesterday morning I finally got to Bethlehem. I was scared to visit there, and the main reason was actually that I know no Arabic whatsoever. I can't even recognize a few letters and sound out words, and I realize that behind that lack of basic knowledge is a whole language and a sophisticated culture about which I know very little. To admit this is humbling. It also felt scary to me, even knowing that it's a well traveled destination, people have seen tourists before, and in my experience most people want to be helpful. But the instant I arrived, I realized there was nothing to be afraid of.

I visited the Church of the Nativity, of course. I also received a direction to stop in and see Soeur Anne Marie at the Carmelite convent located just next to Bethlehem. Sister gave me the address and some directions that weren't all that clear to me, but the first one was easy ("Get on the 21 bus and go all the way to the end"). After that I tried showing the address and the street name to people I saw, with no success. Then I said "Carmel." Oh, Carmel! Why didn't you say so! I'll take you there.

Sister Anne Marie came running to meet me. She is very enthusiastic, smiles and laughs a lot. She wanted to tell me all about their founder, Bienheureuse Marie of the Crucified Jesus, known as the Little Arab Saint. They have a museum in which you can see the furnishings of her room. The visitor is invited to put on her mantle and recite a prayer which she composed. Marie seems to have been quite an independent spirit. The Carmelite life style is quite restrictive, and in one painting, her veil was depicted as very similar to a Moslem head covering. But Marie clearly chose her own way, and in fact designed the architecture of two monasteries she founded.

Only after I'd heard all about Bienheureuse Marie did Sister tell me a little about her own life style. She is a cloistered Carmelite nun, which means that she spends almost all her time strictly inside the walls, praying. They speak to each other and work with their hands for only a short time each day, and she leaves the convent only for errands. Later this week, she will go to Jerusalem to buy medicines for the sisters and pick up the mail.

After visiting there, and the Church of the Nativity, I stopped for lunch at a place called Peace Restaurant. I didn't see a menu and couldn't have read it if there was one, so I pointed and asked for "something like that." "Sandwich?" asked the owner. Yes, sounds good! The sandwich I got was probably the best sandwich in the world, a generous helping of crunchy falafel and vegetables when I was very hungry.

One boy about ten years old asked me (as almost everyone does) where I'm from. I told him and asked him where he was from. He laughed - "I'm from here." Then he stopped laughing and said "I'm from Palestine. I'm Palestinian." His eyes were shining like he really wanted me to hear that and remember it.


On the way back I took the other bus, from the other side of town. This one takes you through the checkpoint and you have to walk quite a long way along the wall between two territories. On the Palestinian side, the wall has been decorated with controversial statements, such as:


Apartheid is wrong.

Once past the checkpoint, I rode another, different city bus looking out over fields where the shepherds might have watched, and where Ruth might have gleaned in the fields of Boaz.

This is probably my last post. I'll be boarding the plane tonight. It will be good to be home. Thanks for reading and maybe see you soon ...

Jerusalem sights and sounds

My strongest impression of Jerusalem, so far, is the sound of the place ... especially the way people's footsteps echo in the narrow stone streets of the old city, but other things too. People's voices, speaking any number of languages. Kids playing soccer or volleyball anywhere they can find a place. Today, after a long tiring morning (the wise start early, before the sun gets too hot and everything shuts down), I found the Austrian Hospice coffee shop for a little lunch and a cool place to sit. They were playing some of my favorite light classics such as Rachmaninoff's Paganini Variations. But around half past noon, the muezzin next door had another idea. He and Rachmaninoff traded phrases for a while.

This morning I was able to walk up to the Temple Mount and walk around the Dome of the Rock. It's an amazing place and while the mosque itself was closed, you can see quite a lot - the beautiful delicately painted ceramic exterior for example, and if you look at just the right angle you can even see how the light comes through inside, through a glass door. I found someone good to show me around, who knew some short cuts and explained something about Moslem prayers and what the different things in the courtyard are for - seats and water faucets for washing before prayers, niches that face Mecca, several little subsidiary mosques for use by the people who work there.

In the afternoon I found my way part way up the Mount of Olives. There are several churches on the way. My favorite is Dominus Flevit, which is a small friendly Franciscan place a good stiff walk uphill. Instead of stained glass, they have a plain glass window over the altar, looking out over Jerusalem, and with natural tree branches in their garden framing it on either side. Anyone who manages the walk is welcome to sit in there as long as they want and think about how Jesus wept over the city. On the way back, I passed the Garden of Gethsemane, which I had visited earlier, and was given an olive branch from one of the trees.

This is a wonderful place, and I won't pretend to be able to figure it out at all.

Aikido in Modi'in

The Aikikai dojo in Modi'in is hard to beat - both challenging and kind. "Are you going to stay?" was the first question I heard. I had to say no, just visiting. Still, in a one-hour class, I felt that Jose Magal sensei and a group of friendly, enthusiastic training partners drew out my very best Aikido. I didn't say perfect, just my very best, all the spirit and energy I had. They were very welcoming to a visitor and I got a taste of some interesting blends, sometimes different to what I'm used to at home, sometimes the same. From time to time I kind of wanted to say "We do it different at home," to excuse myself for not getting something right. But I didn't say it. I think people understood very well.

Aikido is one of the universal languages (even though it comes in different dialects), and because it's unavoidably about connecting to another person, it's a very honest one.

Sensei after class showed me a picture of his sensei, with whom he has studied for 30 years, and told a few stories. His sensei lives in Brazil. I'm amazed by the energy and commitment that has gone into developing his practice, keeping it alive, and building their beautiful dojo. As I left I was given an address of another dojo in Jerusalem, and I hope to meet up again with some of these same people before I leave.

Sabbath

I've had the privilege of staying several days with Naomi's cousin, Moshe. One of the high points of this trip has been conversations with him, his explanations of the different philosophies of Judaism I've been encountering on this trip, the history of Israel and the different people here. Another highlight was having Shabbat dinner with his sister Lily and the family. Lily does all the cooking for this every week, and there are about twenty people there with her children and grandchildren. It's a warm and relaxed occasion with lots of conversation and good food. My Hebrew is not so good so at times I just listened and watched (and ate) and that was not bad!

Moshe lives in Modi'in, a residential town located just on the Israeli side of the Green Line, half way between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. The name Modi'in rang a distant bell in my mind. When I was pointed out a hill in the distance where the Maccabees are buried, I was able (after quite a bit of wondering) to make the connection to a mention in the Bible of the same place under a different spelling. So this place has been settled for a long, long time, over 2000 years. You wouldn't know it to look at it, it's a modern residential town with parks, lots of schools, mostly low-rise apartment buildings and an air-conditioned shopping center. But if you explore, you quickly run across some ancient caves and a stone water catchment system right next to the modern, much larger, steel water reservoir. (How old? Sometimes you get to guess. It could be 200 years or 2000. But it still has a great echo and you can have fun dropping a stone to see how long it takes to hit the bottom.)

One thing I didn't find was a church; I'll have to make that up when I arrive in Jerusalem in a couple of days. Meanwhile, traveling in Israel gives me a taste of what it's like to be a small religious minority, and what a difference it makes to have that be accepted and respected. Also, of course, I feel the importance that my church community has for me.

The Best Aquarium in the World?

This is my last day in Eilat on the Red Sea, in fact my last couple of hours, and it was a real pleasure yesterday to take a plunge in the sea and also to visit a special place called the Coral World Undersea observatory, which lets you take a close look at a Red Sea coral reef in several ways. They have some large conventional tanks, artfully arranged, but you can also take a look at the actual reef by stepping down into a large glass-walled room, and/or by riding in a glass-bottomed boat. It's wonderful. I was startled first by how alive the coral looks - an incredible variety of shapes and colors, and while I didn't get to touch it, it looks to be as soft as a plant or the inside of a mollusk would be, nothing at all like the hard calcified pieces you sometimes see.

The other amazing sight was the different kinds of fish and the way they school (or don't school, depending on the species). There were some enormous schools of tiny little fish - thousands of them! - all moving together in a kind of dance. They are far more spectacular than any individual fish could be, no matter how large or colorful it might be. The shape of the school changes as the fish move around, yet it keeps its smooth and definite shape, like a piece of clay or a balloon being squeezed and stretched. Other fishes, bigger ones, make schools but keep a little more distance among each other. Others really seem to travel alone. (Fish hermits? bandits? social rejects? lost?)

We had our dinner at a nice place called the Spring Onion; the blintzes were almost as good as Marc Kagan's (I said almost!) and I tried a very nice glass of Israeli white wine. They were nice people, too. Anne got a plate of food that contained something she couldn't eat, and the waiter insisted on replacing it with something she liked - "We want to see a smile on your face!"

I'm looking forward to meeting Naomi's cousin, Moshe, and his family. Shabbat Shalom!

Petra

Yesterday, we went to Petra, the magical archaeological site in Jordan, which you can see in "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade," and which has recently been called one of the New Wonders of the World. Six people went from our guesthouse - Anne and I, and four guys from Slovakia. The van dropped us at the border crossing, saying "Your guide will be here in one minute," and left. The guide did indeed appear after some interval of time, along with several other tourists who joined us for the bus ride into Petra and a tour with explanations.

Leaving Israel through the Yitzhak Rabin Border Crossing, then crossing into Jordan, is straightforward and unscary, though not instantaneous, taking about half an hour to get everyone's passport stamped. From there it's about two and a half hours into Petra and the same returning, going through the port of Aqaba and a mountainous desert region which
our guide identifies with the Biblical area called Edom, given to Esau in the Biblical stories, and named after the red rocks near here. The neighborhood of Petra is known as Wadi Musa, named for Moses.

The rest of a very full day was spent on the site, and really we barely began to see what is here. Petra is not just that one building, called the Treasury, that you usually see in photographs. It's a city that was used for both commercial and religious purposes and flourished around the first century BC. You can see what's left of the images of the Nabatean culture's ten deities, and walk down the spectacular entry path with cliffs on both sides, that was used by pilgrims.

This is part of the Great Rift Valley and has suffered some very strong earthquakes over the years, which have demolished almost every building in this area. Some buildings such as the Treasury are still intact because they're carved directly into the sandstone cliff. Another building also still stands, because it was ingeniously built using alternate layers of wood and stone.

What happened to the people? I asked the guide near the end of the day. They integrated into the culture, he said. So, they're still here? I asked. - He just smiled a nice smile.

There is more to say, but I'll have to do that later, because you shouldn't spend all day in an internet cafe.