I didn't realize that Jerusalem was so high up until we started driving toward the Dead Sea and Ein Gedi. It seems the whole way there is downhill! We reached a point on the road that had a little park you could pull off and stop to take a picture. There was a camel there which you could take a picture with for a few shekels. The sign at the park said "Sea Level." The rest of the trip after that point (which was still quite a while) was below sea level. We didn't stop at the park, but passed it on our way.
Our first stop was Ein Gedi, a natural park which is in the mountains. This is a place that David spoke about in the psalms, and it is beautiful! There are huge, dry orangish cliffs, and between them runs a little stream which collects at different points creating lush little oases with cool, turquoise-green water and in some places - beautiful waterfalls!
Along the way we saw Hyrax (desert rodent that lives in Israel). We also saw a huge heard of Ibex! (Ibi? Ibexes? Ibexen? The plural of Ibex, anyone?)
Then we went back and tried to hike all the way up to the upper pools, but it was soo hot! The hike was pretty rugged, but fun; and the views were amazing! There are mountains all around, and beneath them was a cool stream of turquoise water which was very cool to wade in. We would hike for about 30 minutes and then stop and swim in one of the pools.
We didn't make it to the top, but we managed to make it to a couple really neat pools which had waterfalls. One pool even had a part you could use as a water slide! I didn't go down it, but my friends did.
When we reached the main entrance again, we sat and got some iced coffee, icecream, and had lunch. It was really refreshing after such a hot hike.
Our next stop was the Dead Sea. The Dead Sea is bigger than I imagined it, but not as big as say, the Great Lakes. Actually, while were there you could see across it (through the haze - it was sooo hot!) into Jordan. We went to a public beach that was right near Ein Gedi. The temperature that day was 43C - or 109.4F. We got into the water of the Dead Sea - it was lukewarm! I laughed hysterically when I got in; the feeling was bizarre! As you walk in, the water feels a little bit slimy, but not gross. It's just a little different than normal water because it has so many dissolved minerals (mostly salts) in it. When you get in up to your waist and try to swim, suddenly the water picks you up and makes you float. Even if you try to sink yourself into the water (you stop paddling, push down, whatever you do) you bob back up!
At one point we went to another part of the beach to find the dark black mud which we then smeared all over our bodies. It had a weird smell but felt really good on the skin. Again, it was kind of slimy, but mineral rich. Then, we got back into the water and washed it all off. Afterward our skin felt sooo smooth!
After this, we stopped briefly at Qumran. Honestly, I wasn't too thrilled or excited about it. I got to see one of the caves from the parking lot and that was enough for me. By this point, I was pretty tired from being out in the sun all day and ready to just get home and rest!
After finishing my short reflection paper for our class, a few friends of mine decided to go out to a bar in Jerusalem to watch the World Cup game between the US and England. It was a blast! We went with our professor and got a drink and sat outside this bar / cafe and watched the game on a big screen TV which they had set up for the occasion. The whole place was packed, and the energy level was high. We also got some water pipes (hookah!) and smoked strawberry tobacco. It was actually good! I was surprised how much I liked it. I'm sure it's not good for your lungs, but I guess it's not too bad if you only smoke a few times.
England and the US tied 1-1, and when the game was over our professor invited us to join him for some time of prayer in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. We got there around midnight and stayed there until 1am. The walk from the bar to the Church took us through the Christian quarter of the old city, which was totally empty. It was neat to be the only ones walking down the narrow cobblestone streets. All the shops were closed for the night; there were no vendors in your face asking you to come in and look at his shop. We walked past the Greek Patriarchate, and our professor told us a funny story in which the Greek Patriarch of Jerusalem had supposedly sold a piece of the Greek Orthodox Church's property in Jerusalem to the Israeli government. Since most Greek Orthodox Christians in this area are Arabs, they were upset that he would sell a piece of land to the Israelis. He tried to clear up his name by saying that he was duped - the Israeli government had posed as a Christian group. Anyway, the local Greek Orthodox Christians protested and petitioned the Patriarch of Constantinople to have this patriarch removed. The Greek Patriarch was asked to step down, which he did, but he refused to leave the headquarters. He remained locked in his room for almost a year without ever going out - and he got his food and supplies by lowering a basket out of his window (which our professor pointed out to us).
It was cool to walk and talk with our professor. So often my only interactions with professors are in an academic setting. Besides being brilliant scholars, so many of my teachers are just plain fun people, and also, more importantly, extraordinary men and women of faith. I had begun to notice during the week that as our professor walked through the old city he always carried a simple rosary in his hand, which he appeared to be praying throughout the day. This night was no different.
At other points in the week, (as we visited the Mosque at Hebron, for example), he pointed out that this site had once been a Church, and that the Eucharist had been celebrated there. Visiting sites controlled by other faiths, or other Christian groups, He remarked how thankful he was to be a Catholic. It struck me from my time with him during this course that here is a person who is so normal, so natural and human - but who it is clear, has or at least strives for a close relationship with the Lord. I find people like that to be utterly inspiring. There is something beautiful about that kind of witness.
When I first got into the Holy Sepulchre, I went to the place where the tomb of Jesus was. I wanted to go inside and pray there since I had not gotten the chance to do so the last time I was there. I tried to go in with a few of my comrades, and the Greek monk at the entrance to the tomb instructed us to go in, but to make it quick. As soon as we got inside the first little room, the Greek bells rang -- reverberating throughout the whole church. The monk shouted, OUT! OUT! OUT! And so we quickly retreated out of the chapel before we had even gotten a chance to pray. The monk apologized profusely, saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Despite the tensions between the Catholics and the Greeks, I could tell that he was sincere in this. He had thought we had a moment to make a quick visit before their prayer vigil started, but we were too late. Seconds later, an Orthodox deacon came with incense and incensed the whole area inside and around the tomb, filling the air with the sweet smell of frankincense.
The whole Church was also filled with the sound of Greek chant and repeated "Alleluias." The night services on Saturday nights - at least this Saturday night- seemed to me were very joyful. Though sad that I was so abruptly kicked out of the tomb without an opportunity to pray there, my heart and spirits were lifted by the music, and I remembered that despite all of the craziness and messiness of the place (try putting 3 - no, 6 different churches there and ask them to get along!) that what united all of us Christians there was our belief that Jesus is Risen. In some ways, it felt like Holy Saturday night, even though it was just another Saturday night.
Since the Greeks were busy with their evening prayer service at the tomb, I had to go find somewhere else to pray. Walking up the spiral steps which led up to the chapel at Calvary, I saw our professor on his knees before the altar and large gilded scene of the crucifixion. He was still holding his rosary and seemed deep in prayer. I knelt down in the back of the chapel near another friend of mine who was also praying there.
Being there at night was a uniquely beautiful experience. First, the main doors were wide open, as usual, but it was much cooler inside, and much darker than in the day time. There were so many of the beautiful oil lamps (the Greek and Armenian ones) shedding their soft light in the Church, and still many more candles lit by the droves of pilgrims who come to pray at these most holy sites flickering in the night. Each candle - I imagine - was lit for some intention or another. I lit a few as well, and added my prayers to theirs.
After praying at Calvary, I went back downstairs and prayed in the little Franciscan chapel for a while as well. Then I got back in line to go inside the tomb of Christ / chapel of the Resurrection, behind a large group of Orthodox women. When I finally got into the tomb, the Greek monk was rushing us in and out, since there was a large line of people who still wanted time to pray there. I went in with three other large Russian women, who took up the entire space before the tomb of Christ. By the time I got to kneel down (after they had taken their time rubbing and kissing the place where Christ's body was laid), the monk was signaling us to leave. I had but a second to kneel down and kiss the place before I had to leave. But even a moment's prayer there was a powerful experience I will never forget.
No comments:
Post a Comment