Old Jerusalem, Eternal Tensions

May 10th, 2007

After yesterday's brief introduction to "old" and "new" Jerusalem, today's focus was on the "Old Jerusalem."

We met Henry in the morning after a restful night's sleep. We began with a walk up and down the Via Dolorosa, starting at the Lion's Gate, to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, with many places in between. For example, we walked up an improvised bridge to the Dome of the Rock, home of Mt. Moriah, and the Al Asque Mosque. Sadly, because of most recent violence in 2001, the interior of the Dome is closed off to visitors, though the glass-tile mosaic work, along with the gold leaf Dome are exquisite to look at.

The Dome area was once home to the Temple mentioned often in the Bible, and thus it is a place of great spiritual tension and continuing religious violence.

From the Dome, we walked to Bethesda Pool and St. Anne's Chapel. St. Anne's honors not only St. Anne but Mary herself. The beauty of the Chapel is that everything is a little bit off balance and not quite in perfect symmetry. It was also saved from being destroyed during one of the times that Jerusalem was under Ottoman rule by being turned into a Muslim school.

Bethesda was far larger than I imagined. Home to the story of the one who was paralyzed and waited for the angel to stir the waters, there were numerous levels of pools by which those with disabilities would sit and wait for the stirring of waters in order to touch the waters quickly and be healed.

After stopping for a quick cup of coffee, we went along the ancient Cordo, a corridor of shops, until Henry ducked into a sweet shop. "Give the gentleman five shekels, and come with me," and with that Henry opened a door in the back of the shop, and we walked into fourth century Jerusalem! Behind the door was an arch of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre that dated back to the earliest pilgrim, Egeria, a Spanish nun of the fourth century, who not only wrote down the various liturgies used in the early church, but accurately wrote down where the Holy sites were located, maintained for years by the ancient Byzantine church prior to Helena (Constantine's mother), arrival. The sweet shop owner doesn't quite know what they will do with it all yet in terms of turning it over to the antiquity authorities.

Directly above us was the Church of the Holy Sepulchre! We entered the Church through the Ethiopian Coptics and Egyptian Copts Church chapels, which were, themselves stunning in their antiquity, with a visually stunning painting of the Queen of Sheba meeting King David.

We entered the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and were met by pilgrims touching and praying over the large marble slab that honored the embalming of Jesus (though the embalming was to have really taken place on the Sunday after his death). To the right was the stone known simply as Golgotha! The Greek Orthodox iconography was everywhere. Touching this stone, underneath it was another stone, the cleft of Adam, where Adam was to have "originated." Walking along this level, along a corridor, we came to a tomb that was once outside the City's gates, owned by Joseph of Armithea. Near this vacant tomb was a small tabernacle, which is said to be the site of where Jesus was buried and thus rose from the dead. In order to enter and touch the stone of the place where Jesus was buried I had to wrestle with the Greek Orthodox monk who wanted to pry my hand open over a burning flame, "the light of purity." Making a sign of the cross on my open palm over the sooty debris of the candle, I prayed over the site of where Jesus was said to have been buried.

All around us were mosaics and painted icons that were stunning to the eye. Chills now and then would pass over me as I contemplated not only the possibilities of Holiness entering terra firma, but also taking in the breadth and depth of the pilgrims who have come to this place in search of the Christ.

Henry left us to tend to matters at St. Georges while we went off to Papa Andreas for lunch. The view of the Old City from the restaurant was worth the cost of the lunch! Stunning!

For the afternoon, we had some history to learn! We went to the Citadel, that was once mistakenly thought to be a part of King David's fortress. In the Citadel we watched, listened, touched, and were mesmerized by the history of this City. Many cultures and countries have laid claim to this City throughout the centuries...and more likely there will be more changing of hands.

From there we walked to the southern wall near the Western (or Wailing) wall. At the Davidson Center, we walked along the current archaeological diggings and findings of the southern part of the Old City. We saw that as each layer of dirt and grime is removed there is something new being shown about the city's former inhabitants.

That night, exhausted, we ate at a wonderful restaurant, Az Ahara, in east Jerusalem. This part of the City is Palestinian and largely Muslim, whereas west Jerusalem is largely Israeli and Jewish. The difference? We could walk right into the restaurant, and I could order a Taybeh (Palestinian) beer, while on the west Jerusalem side I would have been frisked down and there is no Taybeh beer!

Like the inner domain of the Old City, the newer parts of Jerusalem are equally divided and unique unto themselves!

Pilgrim peace, Brett

Holy Land Pilgrimage: The Second Day, May 9, 2007

May 9, 2007

We arrived in Ben Gurion International Airport in Tel Aviv on Wed., May 9th! The sun was out, a cloudless blue sky was over our heads, and Henry Carse, our pilgrim guide for the next ten days, was only too happy to see us at the airport. Henry and I had talked about doing this pilgrimage a year ago, but the war broke out on the border of Lebanon and Israel, thus causing us to re-schedule this pilgrimage.

While our Palestinian brothers and sisters on the flight were held up in security checks, we whisked through security checks at the airport with nary a lick of attention.

Henry first showed us the money, instructing us that four sheckels equals a dollar, "Got that?" and he plunked some money into our hand. "We'll work on the finances later." Dashing out to the car he borrowed from St. Georges College in Jerusalem, we made our way out of the airport with brochures, pamphlets, and maps in our hands. Henry, with a wink of his eye, told us that he would take us along an older route into town. Knowing full well that we would soon meet the politics of the day along the old route, we were amazed at what we saw: drawing closer to Jerusalem, we were amazed at the walls rising up in the middle of treeless plateaus. The Palestinian people were being walled in while Israeli settlements were springing up on what was their land. The walls divide friends, families, land, and cultures. Check-points sprung up out of nowhere. Amazing.

Jerusalem the Golden! Henry drove us right up to the front door of Ecce Homo, our B&B while we are in Jerusalem. Managed by the Sisters of Notre Dame, we said "adieu" to Henry, found our rooms, and napped until we saw Henry at 4:00 P.M.

After a quick nap, we roused ourselves and walked along the Via Dolorosa, the very trail that pilgrims take following the mythical last walk, or "Dead Man Walking" pathway that Jesus followed to Golgotha. We grabbed some bread for lunch, and looked inside countless small stores in which people were hawking their wares.

At 4:00, we met Henry at Ecce Homo. Henry took us to the top of Ecce Homo, the Terrace, in which we got a grand view of the Mount of Olives, Dome of the Rock, and Church of the Holy Sepulchre. We saw the straight line that these three monuments made, remembering the countless cultures, civilizations, and people who had lived, prayed, worshipped, fought, laughed, loved, and worked in this place.

Dinner that night was at the American Colony Hotel. Soup and a hamburger, and Taybeh beer (a Palestinian beer)! It would be the last time we saw such Western food for the next few weeks.

It was a great welcome to the Holy places and spaces that we were to explore in the coming days.

Pilgrim peace, Brett

Holy Land Pilgrimage: Day One in Israel

May 8, 2007

The beginning of this pilgrimage to Israel and Egypt began on the morning of Tue., May 8th, in which, like all other moments before a pilgrimage actually begins, there is much running around, wanting to be sure that the homefront is in good shape for the coming weeks.

Finally, at 1:20 in the afternoon, as I boarded the Continental shuttle to Newark Liberty Intl. Airport, the pilgrimage had begun. Getting to the airport gate that led to the jet taking us to Israel, I was amazed at the additional layer of security. Bags were checked, and the "magic" wands were passed over our bodies. This was a precursor to the kind of checkpoints that would become a regular annoyance each day in the Holy Land.

Making an easy connection in Newark to the flight that would take us to the Holy Land, we were soon in the air. Sleeping most of the way to Tel Aviv, I roused to watch some of the Orthodox rabbis convene in the back of the plane in the galley area to pray. This was a foreshadowing of many more prayer events in the days to come, resembling the mass congregation of people praying at the Western Wall in Jerusalem. I reminded myself that in the next few weeks, I, as a Christian, was going to be in the minority in a land filled with Muslim and Jewish believers.

Pilgrim peace, Brett

Pilgrimage in the Holy Land!

For the last two weeks (May 8-19th), I've been a pilgrim in the land of all pilgrimages: Israel and Egypt! It was a fantastic pilgrimage, going beyond any pre-set expectations of what would occur during that time.

In the next few days, I will add what happened each day of the pilgrimage in the Holy Land...or should I write Holy Lands! For what I experienced was not only the sacred spaces and places of the world religions, but the political strife and the cultural circumstances that are having an impact not only there, but around the world!

Pilgrim peace, Brett

The Book SCHOOL OF THE PILGRIM

This morning was an incredible dawn. Outside my front door was a package. Neither the dogs or I heard the sound of the postal service. But there was the gift, wrapped in a plain brown paper padded envelope. And inside of the envelope was the six years-in-the-making project: THE SCHOOL OF THE PILGRIM: THE BOOK!

I was beside myself, tearing open the package, laughing, and soon dancing with the dogs (who were also excited by my joy), for this gift of the morning.

I went on to amazon.com, watching the book move a little bit more, being bought by people who have not seen or read the insides of the book. Amazing!

April 12th is a day of celebration! For this book (which I had begun to have doubts if it would ever be published) is now out in paperback!

Pilgrim Peace, Brett

From Lenten Pilgrimage to Eastertide Pilgrimage

Yesterday, after celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ at 6:30 A.M., in the middle of the cemetery at Ernest Myatt Presbyterian Church in Raleigh, North Carolina, where the temperature was 22 degrees (!), and after a moving worship of the risen Christ at 11:00 A.M., our Lenten pilgrimage as God's people had come to our destination: Easter Sunday! For forty days we had been in the period of time known as Lent, and on this holy pilgrimage looked forward to the great festival day of Easter. With a wonderful new treat of celebrating an Easter picnic amid the members of Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church in Raleigh, North Carolina, followed by a small, intimate dinner with family that evening, good fun was had by all.

But awaking on Monday morning, the next pilgrimage began! Eastertide's pilgrimage had begun as the Church enters fifty days on a holy trek toward Pentecost. It hit me this Monday morning that we are forever on pilgrimage as God's people, following Christ, our Pilgrim God.

The pilgrimage is afoot!

Pilgrim peace, Brett

Inching, Crawling, and Walking Toward Jerusalem

During worship on Sunday, while preaching about the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, I kept mixing the description of this Sunday, between "Passion" and "Palm" Sunday. As a child, I looked forward with great excitement when the staid Morrow Memorial United Methodist Church in which I grew up would, in a very real sense, let its "hair down," allowing children to nearly trot and skip down the center aisle with palm branches that were almost as tall as I was. Palm Sunday was all about the palms.

Now as an adult, who has tasted the pilgrim life, this Sunday is all about the Passion of this week. I don't mean in a Mel Gibson kind-of-way. The Passion I am talking about are the swirling, conflicting emotions that I feel inside of me--inside of all of us--when it comes to understanding our relationship to the Divine. After all, what is it about us and our forbears who can sing "Hosanna" on one day of the week, and by Friday shout angrily "Crucify him"? Both of those emotions--adulation and destruction--are embedded deep in the human psyche...no, the very human self, mind, soul and body.

It is Tuesday. I await with hope, fear, and faith the coming days of this week-long pilgrimage of faith.

Pilgrim peace, Brett