I
When I realized that the number of time I would possibly blow out my birthday candles could be counted on my fingers…Mary and I decided it was time to make that trip of a lifetime while we still could.
Not knowing what to take I have put off packing under the elusion that I will have some epiphany at the last minute. I’ve learned from past trips that you can get what ever you want at the local Walmart. So packing light and “VISA, don’t leave home without it” have become my mantra. Apparently there is no Walmart in Israel and I’m glad. I didn’t want this to be a “vacation” vacation. I didn’t want to be a tourist. I want to see and feel the Holy Land as if it were two thousand years ago, if that is possible.
I was feeling a little uneasy about the trip…thinking about flying in a big airplane with seats that only recline in a metaphorical sense, looking outside through a peepholes three seats over and trying to determine exactly where I was. And…worst of all… not being the pilot, not having any control of the stick and rudder.
Then there was that going to an unfamiliar place. Being driven around in a bus not knowing exactly where I was or where I was going. I’ve got to have a map and a compass. I’m not comfortable just looking out the window at the scenery and not knowing the longitude and latitude. So, I spent the whole day on Google maps plotting our entire itinerary, recording the mileage from stop to stop and checking the Google street view through the eyes of that little orangie-yellow man down in the tool bar. Pouring over the maps and material
. Now, I can look forward to the pilgrimage that will take me to the places where my Redeemer was born…lived, died and rose again.
I was asked if I was excited about going…but I’m not sure “excited” is the correct adjective. I’m a little curious and a bit apprehensive about what to expect. I’m concerned that my bad knee will hinder my ability to walk the cobble stone streets of the Via Dolorosa. But I’m determined to trod that path even if I have to drag that gimp leg one step at a time the entire way…it will never be as painful and a nail thought the hand. My hope is that I will be able to better appreciate the Bible, piece together the puzzle of snippets I hear at Mass by knowing where it all took place…maybe even crank my faith up a notch.
II
And then…like Dorothy…I’m no longer in Kansas.
I’m standing on the shores of the Sea of Galilee smelling the charcoal fire as Jesus calls to me…eating the fish that swallowed the coin…walking the road from Nazareth to Capernaum after standing on Mount Precipice. I’m sailing on the “Jesus Boat” after He calmed the sea and listening to the beatitudes on the hillside. Renewing our wedding vows at Cana was like a taste of the best wine.
Then to Jerusalem…Walking the Palm Sunday road, praying in the Garden of Gethsemane and singing “Hallelujah” in the tomb…all moments I’ll never forget. East to Jericho, the Dead Sea, the lowest place on earth (where I bobbed like a cork), the Jordan River for renewal of baptismal vows.
In this place there are too many the holy sites, too many rocky hills, too many breath taking views, too many unforgetable moments and too many cultures for me to comprehend. In this place there is too much geography, too much topography and too much history for me to fathom.
It’s a place of the Old Testament and the New Testament with pockets of illegal settlements, separation walls and groups of people with many different beliefs. I get the impression that it’s still an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. There are complicated confusing rules that change from town to town, from neighborhood to neighborhood and from church to church. “don’t walk here”, “don’t sing there”. Being stoned is the price you may pay for breaking some rules.
It is such a mishmash of culture, architecture and beliefs. Strange customs, strange manors of dress, at less it seem strange to me. I was amused by the ones dressed in black with black fedora hats that appeared to be several sizes too small and long curls of hair hanging down each side of their face. They wore long tassels and wide phylacteries. How strange that those who stuck to such strict rules of the Old Testament (such as not pushing an elevator button on the Sabbath) walked around talking on a cell phones. But, then again in their defense, I didn’t see cell phones mentioned in Leviticus, Numbers or Deuteronomy.
I struggled to sort out my thoughts of the previous nine days as the wide-bodied metal bird chase the sun across the Atlantic. It was whirlwind trip of the Holy Land that traced the steps that Jesus walked and still walks. From Bethlehem to Capernaum, from Jerusalem to Jericho, and all those places the Bible talks about. I experienced the texture, temperature and topography.
The smell, sights and sounds overwhelmed me but the place has changed me…I needed to change.
It is so comforting to know that God is in charge and every thing will be ok. I am so blessed to be able hang out with people who take God seriously.
It’s you my Lord that saved the day
And that’s a debt I cannot repay
Thank you Lord for all you’ve done
Thanks to you the day is won.
You my Lord have paved the way
Help me now not to sway
To you my Lord a prayerful cry
Into your arms I long to fly.
Amen.
III
I’m back home now, back to work, back to my normal day-to-day routine.
I’ve been asked “how was the trip…was it emotional?”
Honestly it was not emotional, but it was educational, overwhelming, enlightening, awe-inspiring, amazing, awesome…I’ve yet to find the right adjective. I was besieged by so much information, so much history, and so many different cultures and religions that I never had the time to get emotional.
I did not need this trip to make me believe that Jesus Christ risen is my Lord and Savior. But those flat pages…those black and white pages in the Bible seem to have a three dimensional quality…now they are in living color. I can smell the breeze off the Sea of Galilee, feel the ground beneath my feet that Jesus walked, and I can see myself in the upper room…and that is very emotional. It is difficult to get through a Mass without biting my tongue, holding my breath and fighting back the tears.
I can’t say the Rosary without having visions of the garden of Gethsemane, that “hole” at Caiaphas’ house, the Temple walls or the tomb Jesus lay in and rose from.
The trip has added a whole new dimension to the “Word” it now has a texture that I never imagined. No longer is it just hearing the word. It’s like I can taste every word and smell every page. It is no longer a story that took place in some far-a-way land.
Yes, it was an unforgettable trip with some unforgettable people.
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for a trip of a lifetime.
The memories of which are so sublime.
The land of milk and honey now is real.
And that Holy Land is the ground I feel.
Amen
