Rivers in the Desert

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? 

I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. 

 Isaiah 43:19

Wadi Qelt in the Jordanian Wilderness

Early morning for many of us starts with the rising of the sun. That means folks are up and awake well before 5 am. Most don't complain but it does seem a bit unnatural and unexpected to our later risers.

The unexpected challenges perceptions and perspectives here. The best cathedral we have seen yet? The Jordan Wilderness, where life seems sparse and limited, was a spectacular sanctuary of the sacred. Prayer overlooking the Monastery of Saint George awakened dormant senses and sensitivities to the Holy.  

Look who has gone native!

We were inspired by the knowledge that this was the setting for Psalm 23's Valley of the Shadow of Death. Watching the shepherds on distant hills, we understood how rare green pastures are in these parts and how dependent sheep must be on a good shepherd.  

With Jerusalem now in our sites, you could feel the energy rising. What would we encounter in the city set upon a hill?

We started our tour with a visit to Pater Noster, the church that commemorates the ancient camping spot for pilgrims that flooded into the old city during the three Jewish festivals. Throughout the grounds are depictions of the Lord's prayer in nearly 200 languages. It seems like there were nearly that many languages spoken as we toured the church. One group that captured our interest was a group of pilgrims from Itrea. Despite their wizened appearance, they sang with deep joy.

Etrian Worshippers

As we then made our way down the Mt. of Olives, the old city of Jerusalem came into full view. With views of the Dome of the rock, the ancient city stones and walls, we were captivated descriptions of Jesus triumphal entry. At the start of many of the festivals, it seems it was not unusual for a person to claim to be the Messiah. The locals would say, "Hey, why not?  He could be the one!" and treated the self-proclaimed messiah to a parade. This might explain why the crowds turned so quickly on Jesus as the week unfolded. 

We entered a private part of the Gethsemane Garden and celebrated communion together. Although we have no evidence that Christ prayed in that same spot, we know it was somewhere nearby. Christ is the bread of life. Christ is the cup of salvation. We sensed the power and presence of his spirit here. 

As we then moved into the more public part of the Garden of Gethsemane, the gnarled trees stood as witnesses to what transpired here over 2,000 years ago.  As creation mourned the death of Christ, I couldn't help but wonder what joy they sensed at his resurrection. 

The Church of the Agony provided that sense of what that dark night of the soul must have been like for Jesus. Weeping and pleading. Alone and abandoned. What more can one say.  

After another delicious Palestinian-style lunch in East Jerusalem, we headed to Bethlehem, our home base for the next few days. We walked through the checkpoint, wandered through the marketplace, and drank refreshing lemonade and mint at a Starbuck knock-off where Debbie knows the owner.