Boat Rides and More

Heading out on the Sea of Galilee

water, worship and music
Claire in her happy place

Robin and Paige

There cannot be a better way to start the day than to be in a boat on the Sea of Galilee. We motored out to the middle of the lake while singing “How Great Thou Art.” As the music soared so did our hearts. It was thrilling to recognize all the places we had recently visited from this sea-bound vantage point. We could see the towering cliffs of Mt. Arbel, the ancient ruins of the Magdala fishing village, and Jesus’ hometown of Capernaum. We spied the Mt. of Beatitudes with its natural amphitheater quite visible. The place where Jesus fed thousands was right next door to where he forgave and fed Peter.  

Jesus Boat

We learned about the weather patterns that kick up storms as well as the geopolitics that keep the Jews separate from the pagans and Romans. Even today, from our watery vantage point, we spied the complicated borders of the Golan Heights. Some things never change.

expressions of unity and love

We debarked from our board ride only to find ourselves experiencing another boat – this one dry docked and preserved. Discovered in 1986, this ancient “Jesus Boat” harkens back to the time of Christ.  

The ruins of Pan's Temple

We hopped back onto the bus and drove up quite near the Lebanese and Syrian border. With snow-capped Mt. Hermon as our compass point, we toured the beautiful grounds of Banias, or Caesarea Philippi as it was known in Jesus’ time.  We learned about the pagan worship of the god, Pan, and how the temple built over the spring that fed the Jordan River was known as the gates of hell.  

Jenny at Banias

It was here that Jesus asked his disciples about who they thought he was. Peter blurted out that he was the Messiah. Jesus then promised to build his church using Peter as the rock and saying the power of Hell would not prevail against it.  

After some time of pondering our relationship and understanding of Christ, we celebrated communion together. We sang of Christ’s amazing grace, a generous measure of the love we sensed.  

Communion at Banias
"Who do you say that I am?"

local Druze food

Our next stop was lunch at a Druze village. Our understanding of this mysterious version of Islam is complicated by their location in the border areas of the Golan Heights. They consider themselves Syrian and not Israeli. Families were separated by the 1967 war. Relatives still talk across this border valley with bullhorns, sharing news as they wave to one another.

Bill on the Syrian Border. 
The UN headquarters in the background

For the next hour, we traveled down the Syrian/Israeli border, stopping at a vantage point where we saw the UN peacekeeping compound. Bill had visited there many years ago when he was working for the Pentagon. Given the American new reports, we were surprised to experience the serenity and peacefulness of the border.  There were no signs of conflict or tension.  

Kursi
ruins where demonias ws cured

Our last stop was the location where Jesus cured the man with many, many demons. A quick look at the ruins of what had been the largest Byzantine church in Galilee and a hike up to the cave where the demoniac lived capped a beautiful day. We were all grateful for a shorter day. That meant swimming in the lake one last time as well as shopping in town.  

We will be sad to bid the Galilee goodbye tomorrow morning. Each of us has encountered Jesus in unexpected ways here.  His spirit is indelibly imprinted on ours. 

gathered for communion at Banias

Easter and Christmas

Mary, Did You Know?

Easter Egg Tree

Today was Easter in parts of the Holy Land.  The Orthodox Church, as well as many others churches, celebrates a week later than we do in the West. So after a leisurely morning with devotions beside the Sea of Galilee, we set off to Nazareth for worship.  


Our first stop was to the well where Mary had her angelic encounter with Gabriel. The Orthodox Church of St. Gabriel was built over a natural spring, one that the first century women visited regularly. Imagine being a young girl in a village made up of several families. The caves where they lived in could be contained within one football field. Making her daily walk to gather water at the well, Mary is visited by an angel who tells her she will become pregnant with the Messiah. This small village girl must have dropped her water jug!  

The Orthodox Church feels ancient. Built in the 1700s, you could feel the thousands upon thousands of prayers that have been offered in this place. As old and adorned as it was, the Easter Egg Tree outside the entrance enchanted us. None of us could imagine such a display in our home churches.

The "Wrong" Baptist Church

We walked around the corner to the Nazareth Baptist Church. I recognized the area but was surprised when we entered a church building because I remembered the church being located in a school.  Rami, our guide, spoke to the elder and we were assured we were in the right place.  

Only we weren't.  

This only dawned on me when the service started and I didn't see anyone I knew. It was only then that I realized that the Local Baptist Church must still be meeting in the school next door.  We had stumbled into the wrong church. Yes, it was a baptist church but not the one where I had been invited to share in the service. Since I sitting in the front pew, I couldn't stand up in the middle of the Easter service and leave. 

The people in the "wrong" church were lovely. They invited Paige to play the piano and between us signing in English and the congregation in Arabic, it was a rousing worship service.  When the service ended, I scooted out and went to the other church, just as they were singing their final song.  They graciously asked me to speak despite being an hour late.  Afterwards, we enjoyed fellowship with this vibrant congregation.  

My dear friend, Dr. Yohanna Katanacho, lingered afterwards and gave us a bit of an orientation to his perspective on the Palestinian/Israeli conflict. Yohanna is a New Testament scholar and a dear friend of many years. Joy radiated from every pore of his being as he spoke of the call to love the enemy in what he called "ortho-pathos,"  - right suffering for God. He emphasized that union with Christ is the greatest thing in the world and should that mean suffering with him, he would do so with grace.    

After these two Easter services, we returned to the Christmas story with a a tour of the Catholic Church of the Annunciation. Here we saw the home of both Mary and Joseph. The church is adorned with depictions of the Madonna and Christ Child. Each of us had our favorites.  

We arrived back to the hotel with our hearts full. We had bookmared the day with sites and stories of our two greatest Christian holidays. But what probably may have moved us the most was the memory of the early morning sunrise on this Easter Sunday. When the sun peeked over the mountains, creation delightfully proclaimed, "He is risen!"  Many of us noted that it was this same sunrise that Jesus saw throughout his ministry in Galilee. Yes, he is risen and he is truly with us here!

Easter Sunrise Over the Sea of Galilee

Popes and Praise, Food and Following

View from the Mt. of Beatitudes

Peter, do you love me?

We started the day at the ending of the one story and the launch of another. The Primacy of Peter is where John ends his gospel with a post-resurrection fishing expedition.  "Do you love me?" Jesus asked his number one disciple.  A complicated question if you have just denied him three time on the night he needed you most. But Jesus not only forgives Peter for his Good Friday failures, he entrusts the well being of the emerging church into his hands.  "Upon this rock . . . and feed my sheep."  Peter has his marching orders and every Pope since then understands he is part of the sacred succession that was commissioned in John 21.  

Sally enjoying Capernaum

I'm glad I'm not Roman Catholic because I see apostolic succession as the commissioning of all of us to share the gospel and express our spiritual gifts  - even that of teaching and preaching - regardless of gender and orientation.  

 

Jim reading
the Sermon on the Mount

But i really don't want to trash the Catholics. The sisters who tend the Mt of Beatitudes have done a lovely job with the grounds. The church is exquisite.  Jim read parts of the Sermon the Mount, a challenging word to love and live after Christ's example. We sang the favorite, 'Holy, Holy, Holy" in the chapel.  The voices filled the sanctuary and our hearts were full.  Tears flowed freely.  

Listening to our guide Rami at the Synagogue at Capernaum

Next we were off the the hometown of Jesus. Capernaum is an archaeological wonder of first century houses and one very old synagogue.  We learned about taxes and trails, all of which travelers dealt with at this crossroads. Paralytics were healed as were mother-in-laws. Fish were hauled in on nets and sold nearby.  Withered hands were made straight and people were called to follow Jesus. 

Capernaum Orthodox Church 

Did you know that if you became a disciple of any rabbi, you basically pledged complete loyalty to him?  You gave up profession and family to follow.  You offered everything to the teacher - time, money and talents. How wonderful that there were women who were disciples too. Our stop at the village of Magdala reminded us that Mary Magdalene was not only the first to see Jesus after his resurrection, she was asked by Jesus to bring messages to his disciples.  As our guide pointed out, she was a disciple to the disciples!  

Laurie and Chuck

Debbie and Sook

We had our fill at lunch, dining on St. Peter's fish. It was yet another reminder that we had just visited the place where Jesus fed thousands with a catering truck equipped only with few ingredients. How does it work to feed that many people with a measly few fish and a few loaves of bread?

The Moses Seat
at the Magdala 1st century Synagogue

We ended the day up at the top of Mt. Arbel, which featured panoramic views of all the places we had visited earlier in the day. We could see the path that Jesus grew up taking between Nazareth and the Sea of Galilee. We could imagine the Moses seat where he likely sat to teach at the synagogue at Magdala. 
Everywhere we looked, we could see his footprints.  

How amazing that we got to follow him here! 

The healing of the women with the flow of blood
at Magdala

On Our Way

25 Pilgrims from Cincinnati, Berkeley, and Sunnyvale 

The pilgrimage officially began this morning.  Amid Passover revelers in Tel Aviv, we took a moment to contemplate what it means to embark on a journey that starts with a different emphasis:  to listen with the ear of your heart.  

A quick visit to Saint Peter's church in Jaffa followed by the a walk around the ruins of the Roman city, Caesarea Maritima, reminded all of us of the inclusive nature of the Christ.  Saint Peter, stunned that that gospel and the accompanying blessing of the Holy Spirit, witnessed the breadth of God's love for all people.

We learned that history, tradition, and biblical stories are often debated by scholars.  The discovery of a stone with an inscription to Pontius Pilate settle once and for all that Pilate was not a fictional character.  Who knew?  

We saw mosaics, and cornices, palaces and aqueducts. But for some of us it was the unexpected that stirred the soul.  We stood over the prison where the Apostle Paul was kept for 2 years.  Imagine!  He may have felt the same refreshing breeze off the Mediterranean that we experienced today.  It was easy to picture him hearing the roar of the crowd during races at the adjacent hippodrome.  

Our spirits were revived at lunch, after which we headed to Mt. Carmel to see where Elijah won the ultimate reality show called, "Whose God is More Powerful?"

We shared communion together and consider once again our motivations for being here in this land at this time.  We were asked, "what do you need to let go of in order to fully enter in?"  It is a question of surrender and presence.

The top of Mt. Tabor brought a lecture on all the ways that Jesus revealed that he was truly the new Messiah.  The transfiguration became much more than dazzling clothes and voices from heaven.  

Finally, we arrived at our hotel that is situation right on the Sea of Galilee.  Home for the next 4 nights, we all can imagine the life and teaching of Christ to become more real.  

We are on our way! 

Hanging in Tel Aviv

Jill, Beth, Bethann, Jenny, Gina, Dale, Sally & Maryann

Today, we continue to hang in Tel Aviv as members of the group keep straggling in from the States.  Weary and bleary-eyed, they nevertheless add to the growing excitement that this adventure is about to get underway quite soon.  

Baha'i Gardens, looking down 

In the meantime, there have been walks on the beach, swimming in the Mediterranean, and side trips to museums, market places, and religious sites.  One group made their way up the coast to Haifa where they navigated the Baha'i Gardens.  These formal gardens cover the slope of Mt. Carmel and boast 19 steep, beautifully landscaped terraces. Fountains and flowers dazzle the senses.  

Baha'i Gradens looking up

Passover is being celebrated all over the country and our hotel was mobbed with families dressed up and eager to retell the story of Israelite liberation from slavery in Egypt.  

Pastor Debbie spent much of the day at the airport, ferrying people to the hotel.  She was struck by all the balloons that made their way to the ceiling rather than into the hands of the thousands of people arriving to celebrate Passover and Easter.  (Yes, this year, here in the holy land, both Passover and Easter are a week later than our celebrations in the West.)

Tomorrow, we officially begin the pilgrimage.  We can't wait to share our stories and insights!

way too many errant balloons at the airport

I'm leaving on a jet plane!

It is always exciting to begin a new adventure!  Here are the pilgrims from Sunnyvale, CA heading for Tel Aviv.  Only one missing is Jenny! 

Beth and Ginna

Bethann, Cheryl, and Dan

Dale, Bethann's sister from Davis, CA

Reunion

with my "sister" Lina

The heart is always warmed by the greeting of friends.  There is nothing like a hug, a smile, a kiss from someone you have not seen for some time.  There is so much tender exuberance in reunions. 

My return to the holy land is filled with many, many such reunions.  From Mohammed who met us at the airport, to Hussein who I randomly ran into on the street, to long-time friends and colleagues, I have received more kisses and hugs than I can remember.  Being known by so many wonderful people is a gift I don't ever want to take for granted.

But there have been other sweet reunions on this trip. Nearly half of the pilgrims are from churches in California.  I haven't seen any of them in years.   When each one walks through the customs at the airport, the spark of recognition ignites memories and affection.  

The first wave of pilgrims who arrived in Tel Aviv today!

This has me thinking more about how it must have felt for Peter, Mary, and the other disciples as they encountered the resurrected Jesus for the first time.  The confusion they felt must have quickly morphed in pure joy.  "Is it really you?" they must have exclaimed.  No wonder Mary grabbed Jesus.  She wanted to have a physical connection to ground the emotional reality she was experiencing. If she could touch him, she then knew she wasn't dreaming. 

For those of us who often distance ourselves from God, I wonder if the Divine One has that same sense of joy when we return.  Does Christ feel that intoxicating spark of love when we metaphorically kiss and greet him?  "I've been waiting for you.  Welcome home!" I imagine him saying.  "Come, sit!  Let's catch up."  

I think I have a glimpse of how delightful that reunion must be. 

Arrival

We have arrived!  Well, at least three of us.  After smooth flights and connections through Paris,  it was thrilling to catch the first glimpse of the holy land.  The coastline with miles of beaches gives way to high rises and industrial complexes that dot this part of Israel.  A quick circle of the airport and we touched down.

As we taxied to the gates, I pondered what was ahead for my travel companions.   Jill and Claire were about to be dumped into the craziness of my connections in Israel.  Mohammed, out taxi driver, is a good friend.  Not surprising for an Arab Israeli Muslim man who lives in Jerusalem, the ride to Bethlehem was filled with talk of politics, family, and religion.

When we arrived at our hotel next to the Church of the Nativity,  we were greeted and treated to dinner by good friends, the Ghareeb family.  Over scrumptious fare, we caught up on news and life. I gave the children gifts from Cincinnati - Reds baseball caps and Reds backpacks.   The adults got Maverick chocolate from Findlay Market.  I adore this family and it was lovely to bring a piece of my new world to them.

Before heading to bed, I insisted on a quick walk around Manger square.  Jet-lagged though we were, we somehow found the grace to accept tea from another friend we ran into.  Adnan ushered us into his shop and shared stories about Bedouin life as he reminisced about his father who passed away a few years ago.


As I went to bed, I began to ponder what this trip will mean for me.  I know well how delightful the discovery can be for those who are here for the first time.  The sights, smell, and spirituality of this place are what has led many to call it the fifth gospel.  But for me, it is like a glimpse of home.  What is familiar and feels like family brings a unique depth to my return.  But what is anticipated and known can often prevent an openness to new insights and possibilities.  I want to be attentive to my own sense of "why this place at this time."  How will God be present to me, to this place, to these people,  and to our soon-to-be-arriving pilgrims?

I know one thing for sure.  As I preached on Easter Sunday, my heart is seeking moments of resurrection, not resuscitation.  While connected to the past, I have no desire to be bound to it.  Things are never the same here, nor can they be.  Instead, I want to attend to the stories of resurrection - great and small. I can't help but wonder how many of those stories will be my own.