Dear Family and friends,
My time in Jerusalem is winding down. I see then end and while it seems so far with all the things I have left to do ( a very large paper, a massive exam, and all my christmas shopping), the time is pressing in on me. Forgive me if I'm rather longwinded and full of big words and large phrases right now. I'm in paper writing mode. Well, part of my is, the focus part to get it done is somewhat lacking (as you can probably tell since I am writing this not to you all instead of doing research for my last paper). I'm not really sure what all to say. There are lots of things I could tell you. I still haven't written about our Jordan trip (which was amazing by the way), but I had to turn all my notes from that trip in for class and don't have them back yet, so I guess that trip will have to wait. Oh dear, I'm rambling.
Brie is on her way home as I write. I will be in less than 3 weeks. Seems like a long time, but it isn't. I am ready. I miss home, I miss my family, I miss my friends. I am so excited to spend christmas in Texas. I'm excited to get free refills for 1$. I'm excited to be able to sit down and watch a movie by the fire cuddled in a blanket on our amazing couch with my family and Lucy. And to be able to cook my own meals (though I would never complain about food here, don't expect a slimer Caitlin cause our cooks are too good for that to happen!) I miss my bed with all my comfy blankets. I miss having endless options of clothes. It'll be like having a whole new wardrobe when I get back!
I am not ready. I will miss Jerusalem, the sights, the smells. I will miss the JUC Garden, I didn't take advantage of it enough while I've been here. I will miss all my new friends, they are all so amazing, each and every one that I have meet here. I will miss walking down the road for an iced coffee or making random doughnut runs right after supper. I will miss staying up late talking about random things or having theological discussions. I will miss cookie night every wensday. I will miss studying the geography of Israel, and walking though thistles and dirt to look at more thistles and dirt and rocks. I will miss eating lunch in the garden everyday and laughing about who knows what! I will miss playing ultimate frisbee every friday (great games now since we all know each other so well and how the people on the other team and your team play.) I will miss the sunsets, the warm weather, the bells of Dormision Abby, the call to prayer being blasted all over the city, Shabbat dinner (which family, we are have one at some point when I get home). I love it here. And I love it at home. I miss home now, and I will miss Jerusalem soon.
I have learned so much here, more than I think I realize. In unexpected ways the God I have known my whole life suddenly went from being a mysterious being from a book that theoretically existed and I knew and prayed to and tried to obey, to a real life being, involved with flesh and blood people in a land that was about more than domination and more than just promised. I cannot read the Bible the same why, no matter where I turn in it there is something new, something real, something I have experienced or seen or understand because of what I have experienced or seen. The Bible revolves around this land I have been living in since September. The imagery, the battles, the pain and suffering , the joy, the promises. Everything revolves around this tiny piece of earth with mountains and deserts, oceans and lakes, plains and valleys all squeezed into it. Be warned I will probably be depressed when I get home for a bit. If only because I am now used to days with only sunshine and warmth coming home to cold and grey. Even though I can't wait to be home, I am going to miss Jerusalem and the people I have met here.
I suppose that is all for now, though I may have more of these melancholy ramblings later. Hopefully though they are a bit more interesting as I try to keep you all up to date on my last days in Israel. Until then, Shalom and Happy Thanksgiving!
Cait
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Carmen
So I know in my last post I said I would tell you about the adventures my friend Carmen and I had while she was here. Well, I really need to work on homework, there is SO MUCH TO DO in the next few weeks but I wanted to do a quick post of what I remember.
It was amazing having a friend here. Carmen is enough like me to appreciate everything I've been learning and be almost as excited as me about some of this stuff. I thought and partly hoped she wouldn't go home :) She didn't want to. We had such a good time. We spent several days wandering through the old city and attemting to shop, not very successfully. We snuck into churches following tour groups and wandered into places I hadn't even been too yet. We played frisbee in Bethlehem with a group of Palestinian kids from a school there, and spend several hours wandering through the very large and fascinating Israel museum only to have to grab a taxi and sprint back so I could go to class. When I couldn't take her somewhere she just went with my friends...i'm so glad they adopted her. She got to do stuff even when I couldn't go and I was very glad. One weekend Carmen and I and 4 other people packed into a Hyundi Getz car and drove the 2 1/2 hours to Galilee to explore some Crusader forts and castles there. What an Adventure! I drove and we packed 3 guys and 3 girls into the little car. It was crammed but so much fun! We got lost a few times, saw some great views, stayed at an.....interesting place, and made it back safe and sound and in time for rush hour in Jerusalem, but still made it to dinner. Exhausting, but so wonderful. And it was fun to show Carmen some of the places I had been to and tell here all the things I had learned there, or at least what I remembered. We had gorgous weather, quite afternoons, exciting mornings and the occasional eventful evening. A great couple of weeks with a great friend.
It was amazing having a friend here. Carmen is enough like me to appreciate everything I've been learning and be almost as excited as me about some of this stuff. I thought and partly hoped she wouldn't go home :) She didn't want to. We had such a good time. We spent several days wandering through the old city and attemting to shop, not very successfully. We snuck into churches following tour groups and wandered into places I hadn't even been too yet. We played frisbee in Bethlehem with a group of Palestinian kids from a school there, and spend several hours wandering through the very large and fascinating Israel museum only to have to grab a taxi and sprint back so I could go to class. When I couldn't take her somewhere she just went with my friends...i'm so glad they adopted her. She got to do stuff even when I couldn't go and I was very glad. One weekend Carmen and I and 4 other people packed into a Hyundi Getz car and drove the 2 1/2 hours to Galilee to explore some Crusader forts and castles there. What an Adventure! I drove and we packed 3 guys and 3 girls into the little car. It was crammed but so much fun! We got lost a few times, saw some great views, stayed at an.....interesting place, and made it back safe and sound and in time for rush hour in Jerusalem, but still made it to dinner. Exhausting, but so wonderful. And it was fun to show Carmen some of the places I had been to and tell here all the things I had learned there, or at least what I remembered. We had gorgous weather, quite afternoons, exciting mornings and the occasional eventful evening. A great couple of weeks with a great friend.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Galilee Day 4
October 26, 2010
The final day started early for a six of us. Up and walking out through the gate of the complex we were staying at by 3:50am, we hiked down the highway about a mile. There we took a left on a small paved road and started climbing up the hill (or small mountain as it seemed to me) by the light of almost full moon. The stars were bright and clear and everything glowed silver. We were hiking up to Hippos, a Decapolis city, one of ten, in the Bashan region of Galilee during the Roman period. Halfway up the hill the jackal’s started howling, but as soon as the flashlights were on they stopped and were not heard from again. The occasional moo of a Bashan cow reached our hears though as we continued to climb. A little over an hour later we reached the top, just as the sky started to lighten with the coming sun. We wandered through the ruins that had been uncovered of the once great city that was destroyed by an earthquake ages and ages ago. We watched as the sun turned the long straw like grass from gray to gold and the transformed the sky into a mural of pink and blue. Wishing we could stay and watch the sun come all the way up, we turned and hurried back down the hill anxious to make it back in time to change and grab breakfast before having to get on the bus at 7:15 am. I am pleased to say we made it in plenty of time, exhausted but exhilarated by our adventure. Thankfully the rest of the day was gentle on our sore, tired limbs. First stop was at the dock next door where we hopped on a boat that took us out into the middle of the sea for part one of class. Only 9x13 miles and 150 feet deep, it was strange to imagine the smooth, calm water as a raging torrent of six foot waves and wild winds. Storms similar to the ones Jesus calmed still happen on the sea. The wind gets funneled into the bowl where the sea sits from the Mediterranean and gets trapped by the cliffs all around creating a swirling mass of chaos. The little boats the disciples and Jesus were in (if this is indeed the right type of boat) was made for no more than 4 or 5 fishermen at a time. They would have been a total of 13 people. The little boat wouldn’t have been more than 6 inches out of the water, so imagine six foot waves rolling over it. No wonder the disciples were scared!
We also went to Chorazim, mentioned in Matthew 11 when Jesus denounces places where he did miracles. Ate lunch there actually (pita and tuna = bread and fish. hahaha) We sat in what was once an “Insula”, a type of house complex. A square on the outside with various open air and roofed sections or rooms inside it. It was probably this type of structure Jesus was in when the 4 friends lowered a man through the roof. A small room crowded full and overflowing and all the sudden the mud and timber start giving way and down comes a mat through the roof with a guy on it. The question was asked “who fixed the roof?”. A couple of options: first the man who was healed might have helped being glad of the use of his legs, or second, maybe Jesus did it. That was his job, or a part of it as a carpenter, builder, architect. Who knows?
We also visited Capernum. As we sat under a tree looking down on the lake, our professor asked one of the guys (our dinner cook Dan) to run down the small embankment to the water. We had a little experiment to see if Dan could hear Dr. Wright talking to him as he “cast his net.” Sure enough, no shouting necessary up came Dan’s voice. It was fun to envision Jesus standing there talking to Peter and Andrew as they fished.
So many ideas, so much to process. I try to write it all down and can’t. I want to engrave this information in my brain so I don’t forget these images as I read these stories and write their words on my heart.
The final day started early for a six of us. Up and walking out through the gate of the complex we were staying at by 3:50am, we hiked down the highway about a mile. There we took a left on a small paved road and started climbing up the hill (or small mountain as it seemed to me) by the light of almost full moon. The stars were bright and clear and everything glowed silver. We were hiking up to Hippos, a Decapolis city, one of ten, in the Bashan region of Galilee during the Roman period. Halfway up the hill the jackal’s started howling, but as soon as the flashlights were on they stopped and were not heard from again. The occasional moo of a Bashan cow reached our hears though as we continued to climb. A little over an hour later we reached the top, just as the sky started to lighten with the coming sun. We wandered through the ruins that had been uncovered of the once great city that was destroyed by an earthquake ages and ages ago. We watched as the sun turned the long straw like grass from gray to gold and the transformed the sky into a mural of pink and blue. Wishing we could stay and watch the sun come all the way up, we turned and hurried back down the hill anxious to make it back in time to change and grab breakfast before having to get on the bus at 7:15 am. I am pleased to say we made it in plenty of time, exhausted but exhilarated by our adventure. Thankfully the rest of the day was gentle on our sore, tired limbs. First stop was at the dock next door where we hopped on a boat that took us out into the middle of the sea for part one of class. Only 9x13 miles and 150 feet deep, it was strange to imagine the smooth, calm water as a raging torrent of six foot waves and wild winds. Storms similar to the ones Jesus calmed still happen on the sea. The wind gets funneled into the bowl where the sea sits from the Mediterranean and gets trapped by the cliffs all around creating a swirling mass of chaos. The little boats the disciples and Jesus were in (if this is indeed the right type of boat) was made for no more than 4 or 5 fishermen at a time. They would have been a total of 13 people. The little boat wouldn’t have been more than 6 inches out of the water, so imagine six foot waves rolling over it. No wonder the disciples were scared!
We also went to Chorazim, mentioned in Matthew 11 when Jesus denounces places where he did miracles. Ate lunch there actually (pita and tuna = bread and fish. hahaha) We sat in what was once an “Insula”, a type of house complex. A square on the outside with various open air and roofed sections or rooms inside it. It was probably this type of structure Jesus was in when the 4 friends lowered a man through the roof. A small room crowded full and overflowing and all the sudden the mud and timber start giving way and down comes a mat through the roof with a guy on it. The question was asked “who fixed the roof?”. A couple of options: first the man who was healed might have helped being glad of the use of his legs, or second, maybe Jesus did it. That was his job, or a part of it as a carpenter, builder, architect. Who knows?
We also visited Capernum. As we sat under a tree looking down on the lake, our professor asked one of the guys (our dinner cook Dan) to run down the small embankment to the water. We had a little experiment to see if Dan could hear Dr. Wright talking to him as he “cast his net.” Sure enough, no shouting necessary up came Dan’s voice. It was fun to envision Jesus standing there talking to Peter and Andrew as they fished.
So many ideas, so much to process. I try to write it all down and can’t. I want to engrave this information in my brain so I don’t forget these images as I read these stories and write their words on my heart.
Sunrise in the morning from Hippos
On the sea of Galilee in the morning (above and Below)
The tree at Capernum....it was very nice and comfortable. Great for napping apparently.
The view of the sea from where we were sitting under the tree....look it's Peter and Andrew throwing thier nets!
Monday, November 1, 2010
Company and Galilee Day 3
Carmen's here! yep, she came to visit me. For those of you reading this who don't know Carmen, she is one of my closest friends and my roomate from college. She flew out to spend two weeks with me in Israel. It's very exciting to have her here. We have already had a blast and we haven't even gotten far out of the school gate! For those of you who do know Carm, and possibly live with her, thanks for sharing!
More about our adventures later, for now here is more from Galilee.
October 25, 2010
One of my favorite places we visited day 3 was the top of a volcanic cone on the border of Syria, Israel, and Lebanon. We climbed and climbed in the bus, up and up. As the doors of the bus opened cold air poured in. Grabbing sweatshirts we scrambled off and headed the last little bit over the top of the cone with a glorious cold breeze giving us the feeling of October for the first time all month! To the Northeast was Mt. Hermon, looking large and overwhelming. Scanning the horizon to the East and South the view stretched out flat in front of us into the lands and stories of people and places outside Israel. On the other side of Mt. Hermon lay the former city of Damascus, where Saul was heading when met the Lord and was struck blind. So much history, so many people who impacted the world in so many ways. There we watched the sun set, falling behind the clouds as the air grew even cooler and we all stood laughing and shivering, jumping around trying to keep warm and snap our pictures at the same time. So beautiful, so refreshing, I loved it!
Mt. Hermon is on the eastern side of the Jordan River. It is thought to be the place of the transfiguration, not in tradition which places it on Mt. Tabor, but geographically which fits on Hermon better. There were some interesting ideas suggested with this. First of all, who did Jesus meet on the Mountain? Moses and Elijah, both of which are associated more with the east side of the Jordan. Moses never crossed it and Elijah was born and raised on the eastern side. This then was the beginning of Jesus journey to the cross taking place over a 9 month span. His direction is continually south towards Jerusalem. Although near the time of Passover, he is in and out of Jerusalem and the area a few times, but always close. It was if this moment began the final preparations for both Jesus and the disciples after Jesus was gone. Imagine, Jesus knew what was waiting for him, he knew it was coming and when. How hard that would have been! And even though he told them, the disciples didn’t believe him till it had happened. I wonder how they all felt: Jesus knowing what was coming, and the disciples thinking he was crazy and maybe gradually starting to recognize the truth, but not wanting to believe it.
The location also fits on Mt. Hermon being very near to Caesarea Philippi, another place we sat and had part of class this day earlier on. This was the place Jesus told Peter he would be the cornerstone, “the rock” on which Jesus would build the church (Matt. 16). Sitting in the shade we looked up to see the enormous rock into which temples to the god Pan and been built. The thing is massive. Not like the rocks we have a home in the mid-west. Small things we layer our driveways with, or fist sized we throw out of fields and yards, or wagon sized that we stick in gardens with our names on them. These rocks tower above you, huge, massive, solid, and overwhelming chunk of Jurassic limestone turning Cenomanian. This was the “rock” Jesus was talking about. So get that picture of a little brick out of your head cause that’s not what it was supposed to be. Flowing out of the rock is a stream, water, vital in this land which most of it is barren and dry. Water is for living, and here it comes out of a rock, surrounded by good fertile soil. This rock is the best there is for building.
More about our adventures later, for now here is more from Galilee.
October 25, 2010
One of my favorite places we visited day 3 was the top of a volcanic cone on the border of Syria, Israel, and Lebanon. We climbed and climbed in the bus, up and up. As the doors of the bus opened cold air poured in. Grabbing sweatshirts we scrambled off and headed the last little bit over the top of the cone with a glorious cold breeze giving us the feeling of October for the first time all month! To the Northeast was Mt. Hermon, looking large and overwhelming. Scanning the horizon to the East and South the view stretched out flat in front of us into the lands and stories of people and places outside Israel. On the other side of Mt. Hermon lay the former city of Damascus, where Saul was heading when met the Lord and was struck blind. So much history, so many people who impacted the world in so many ways. There we watched the sun set, falling behind the clouds as the air grew even cooler and we all stood laughing and shivering, jumping around trying to keep warm and snap our pictures at the same time. So beautiful, so refreshing, I loved it!
Mt. Hermon is on the eastern side of the Jordan River. It is thought to be the place of the transfiguration, not in tradition which places it on Mt. Tabor, but geographically which fits on Hermon better. There were some interesting ideas suggested with this. First of all, who did Jesus meet on the Mountain? Moses and Elijah, both of which are associated more with the east side of the Jordan. Moses never crossed it and Elijah was born and raised on the eastern side. This then was the beginning of Jesus journey to the cross taking place over a 9 month span. His direction is continually south towards Jerusalem. Although near the time of Passover, he is in and out of Jerusalem and the area a few times, but always close. It was if this moment began the final preparations for both Jesus and the disciples after Jesus was gone. Imagine, Jesus knew what was waiting for him, he knew it was coming and when. How hard that would have been! And even though he told them, the disciples didn’t believe him till it had happened. I wonder how they all felt: Jesus knowing what was coming, and the disciples thinking he was crazy and maybe gradually starting to recognize the truth, but not wanting to believe it.
The location also fits on Mt. Hermon being very near to Caesarea Philippi, another place we sat and had part of class this day earlier on. This was the place Jesus told Peter he would be the cornerstone, “the rock” on which Jesus would build the church (Matt. 16). Sitting in the shade we looked up to see the enormous rock into which temples to the god Pan and been built. The thing is massive. Not like the rocks we have a home in the mid-west. Small things we layer our driveways with, or fist sized we throw out of fields and yards, or wagon sized that we stick in gardens with our names on them. These rocks tower above you, huge, massive, solid, and overwhelming chunk of Jurassic limestone turning Cenomanian. This was the “rock” Jesus was talking about. So get that picture of a little brick out of your head cause that’s not what it was supposed to be. Flowing out of the rock is a stream, water, vital in this land which most of it is barren and dry. Water is for living, and here it comes out of a rock, surrounded by good fertile soil. This rock is the best there is for building.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Galilee Day 2
October 24, 2010
Day two started off intense and just progressed all day, though full of fun and very enjoyable, and oh so fascinating! But then, everyday there is something that fascinates me. The first stop of the morning were the Cliffs of Arbel overlooking the sea of Galilee and the Plain of Gennesaret. We stood on top taking in the drastic changes in landscape, down the cliff face, across the plain to the hills and mountains beyond, or the opposite direction down into the sea and into the rift valley. It was so beautiful. A vast view of a land fought over by empires, where fishermen grew to be great men, and a king undercover traveled, teaching and healing. It was a place the Prophets called “land of the Gentiles”, an odd phrase for a time when only Israelites worshiping the lord lived there. But a very fitting phrase around the time of Jesus, with a mixture of Jewish, Roman, Assyrian, Egyptian, Phoenician, and Canaanite influences. All of these blending from past into present to create a mash of ideas and cultures.
After climbing down the cliff and scrambling through the cave houses in the face of it, we progressed around the lake talking about and visiting places like Nazareth, Cana, Hazor, and Bethsaida. We also discussed stories that took place in these areas from both Old and New testament time periods. The ones that really stood out to me were the stories about Jesus and what his life as a man might have been like based on what we know from archeology, culture, and how people interacted with one another. For example, what was the wedding in Cana like for Jesus? For one, it can probably be assumed that Jesus and his family were close to the family whose house the wedding was at. Mary obviously felt comfortable taking over when things got hairy and Cana is visible across the Bet-Netofa Valley from Nazareth where Jesus grew up. It might have been a slightly awkward day for Jesus since he was around 30, the oldest son, and yet unmarried himself. We will never know for sure. However, it was interesting for me to all the sudden have a more human perspective of Jesus.
Other ideas did as well. For instance, Jesus earthly father Joseph was a carpenter. However, this does not mean he worked only on wood making furniture and such. He would have been a specialist in areas such as stone, metal, and leather in addition to wood. These “carpenters” as we call them, would have been more like engineers, architects, designers and builders of structures and houses. A construction guy that also helped design what he was building. This was the trade Jesus learned and likely practiced. Jesus was considered a Rabbi, but these guys had jobs in society as well as being trained in Torah. Several known rabbi’s had jobs like digging ditches, or fishing. Jesus also probably had a job in society, although we aren’t really told details of this part of his life in scripture. Considering the multi-cultural communities he was living and working in, we can probably assume he also spoke at least 3, maybe 4 languages. That sounds like a lot, but even in modern Jerusalem, most of the shop keepers speak 4 or more, no problem.
All these things and more have given me a new perspective on Jesus the human, not the incarnation of God. Although they are one in the same, we rarely go into detail about the human aspect except to say, “oh he was human so he understands what we go through.” I always thought that was a silly line. What exactly does he understand? What were the pressures he felt as man, as the oldest son, as a provider for his family? We can never really no for sure but based on what we do know, about life and culture and history, people and societies interacting, we can make some pretty good guesses. I feel like I caught a glimpse of the Jesus as a man, and feel like I have a little bit better understanding (though still extremely limited) of who he was on earth and why he came, what he did, how he lived, and the challenges he faced in human form let alone as God on earth. It makes his struggle in the garden more clear to me…human, physical desires with a heart pumping God. It all the sudden seems like such a strange and incredibly difficult combination to live with. I used to think Jesus was heartless in a way on earth, doing what he had to do because he had to with no passion, no love for his family. But today I got to see that passionate side of him, that side that loved his mother, loved his disciples, like I love my parents and sisters, grandparents and cousins and friends. I can’t imagine having that much love for them, and knowingly and willingly have to leave them or do the things Jesus did. Too many thoughts exploding in my head to fit them on one page.
Day two started off intense and just progressed all day, though full of fun and very enjoyable, and oh so fascinating! But then, everyday there is something that fascinates me. The first stop of the morning were the Cliffs of Arbel overlooking the sea of Galilee and the Plain of Gennesaret. We stood on top taking in the drastic changes in landscape, down the cliff face, across the plain to the hills and mountains beyond, or the opposite direction down into the sea and into the rift valley. It was so beautiful. A vast view of a land fought over by empires, where fishermen grew to be great men, and a king undercover traveled, teaching and healing. It was a place the Prophets called “land of the Gentiles”, an odd phrase for a time when only Israelites worshiping the lord lived there. But a very fitting phrase around the time of Jesus, with a mixture of Jewish, Roman, Assyrian, Egyptian, Phoenician, and Canaanite influences. All of these blending from past into present to create a mash of ideas and cultures.
After climbing down the cliff and scrambling through the cave houses in the face of it, we progressed around the lake talking about and visiting places like Nazareth, Cana, Hazor, and Bethsaida. We also discussed stories that took place in these areas from both Old and New testament time periods. The ones that really stood out to me were the stories about Jesus and what his life as a man might have been like based on what we know from archeology, culture, and how people interacted with one another. For example, what was the wedding in Cana like for Jesus? For one, it can probably be assumed that Jesus and his family were close to the family whose house the wedding was at. Mary obviously felt comfortable taking over when things got hairy and Cana is visible across the Bet-Netofa Valley from Nazareth where Jesus grew up. It might have been a slightly awkward day for Jesus since he was around 30, the oldest son, and yet unmarried himself. We will never know for sure. However, it was interesting for me to all the sudden have a more human perspective of Jesus.
Other ideas did as well. For instance, Jesus earthly father Joseph was a carpenter. However, this does not mean he worked only on wood making furniture and such. He would have been a specialist in areas such as stone, metal, and leather in addition to wood. These “carpenters” as we call them, would have been more like engineers, architects, designers and builders of structures and houses. A construction guy that also helped design what he was building. This was the trade Jesus learned and likely practiced. Jesus was considered a Rabbi, but these guys had jobs in society as well as being trained in Torah. Several known rabbi’s had jobs like digging ditches, or fishing. Jesus also probably had a job in society, although we aren’t really told details of this part of his life in scripture. Considering the multi-cultural communities he was living and working in, we can probably assume he also spoke at least 3, maybe 4 languages. That sounds like a lot, but even in modern Jerusalem, most of the shop keepers speak 4 or more, no problem.
All these things and more have given me a new perspective on Jesus the human, not the incarnation of God. Although they are one in the same, we rarely go into detail about the human aspect except to say, “oh he was human so he understands what we go through.” I always thought that was a silly line. What exactly does he understand? What were the pressures he felt as man, as the oldest son, as a provider for his family? We can never really no for sure but based on what we do know, about life and culture and history, people and societies interacting, we can make some pretty good guesses. I feel like I caught a glimpse of the Jesus as a man, and feel like I have a little bit better understanding (though still extremely limited) of who he was on earth and why he came, what he did, how he lived, and the challenges he faced in human form let alone as God on earth. It makes his struggle in the garden more clear to me…human, physical desires with a heart pumping God. It all the sudden seems like such a strange and incredibly difficult combination to live with. I used to think Jesus was heartless in a way on earth, doing what he had to do because he had to with no passion, no love for his family. But today I got to see that passionate side of him, that side that loved his mother, loved his disciples, like I love my parents and sisters, grandparents and cousins and friends. I can’t imagine having that much love for them, and knowingly and willingly have to leave them or do the things Jesus did. Too many thoughts exploding in my head to fit them on one page.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Images from Galilee, Day 1
Well all, it has been a long and amazing weekend. After 4 days in Galilee and the surrounding regions my head is full of information and aching to be regurgitated onto a page, and that's what you get. However limited the information might be, there is not space and I am struggling to find time to put all these thoughts into words. I took lots of pictures though! And per demand, from 1 or 2 people, I will try get a few on facebook, and include a few here. If my computer and the internet agree to cooperate.
So, thoughts from day 1 and a few of the places we stopped at and talked about...
October 23, 2010
Our first stop on the Galilee field study was Caesarea, a harbor along the northern part of Israel’s coast. It was built by Herod the Great as a port city and like his other architectural endeavors, magnificent. A proud, charismatic man, Herod hated being outdone and rarely was there anybody before our after able to compete with him. He built Caesarea in a harsh, previously unoccupied area, enabling him to claim the full credit for taming this section of Coast. It became the key port for Israel, rivaling that of places like Alexandria in Egypt, or Athens in Greece. Herod built it in a way that showed his loyalty to Rome. Those who landed there experienced a “home away from home”, surrounded by mosaics, pillars, and structures pumping full Roman air. Although Herod loved to built large magnificent complexes to illustrate how powerful, cultural, wealthy and Roman he was, the port of Caesarea severed another purpose. It enabled Herod to have control of both the regions of Galilee and Judah, as opposed to Joppa which was too far from Galilee and Acco, (one of the only Natural ports in Israel) which was too far from Judah and Jerusalem. Caesarea provided a perfect middle ground. The sand dunes receded a bit allowing access from the hills to the coast, and was unoccupied allowing Herod to fully take over and do or build anything he wanted having full control. It is a beautiful site. The ruins of once beautiful buildings going right up to the water. Herod even had a fresh water pool built into the ocean surrounded by a wall. There is a theatre, a Hippodrome, an Amphitheatre, a man made harbor secured to the ground beneath the sea with cement that hardens underwater, palaces, sarcophagus’, and all kinds of other treasures.
Two other important New Testament characters also went to Caesarea. One of them was named Peter. Some things about Peter: although he was a disciple of Jesus, Peter was still kosher, still followed the Jewish customs to a large extent. He was from the area of Galilee and had lived and worked there most of his life. Even in his travels with Jesus he had rarely left the hill country. The hill people feared the coast, the ocean. It was an untamable, uncontrollable beast waiting to eat them. Not only that, but that area was very gentile by Peter’s time, full of un-kosher Hellenists from across the sea. So in Acts when Peter is called Joppa, imagine how uncomfortable he must feel. He far away from anything familiar surrounded by people who are not even followers of Christ let alone kosher Jews. I know I would feel awkward. Then on top of that he gets called even deeper into Gentile land with a summoning from a Roman general named Cornelius. Peter goes there and enters Cornelius’ house, something a kosher Jews wasn’t supposed to do. There is more to the story, about why Peter went. I just want you to think about, like I have been, how strange it must have been for Peter to suddenly have the rules change and how he must have felt. Yet there he went, for the sake of the people, and because the Lord commanded him. Imagine a small fisherman, taken out of his small environment and sent into the most uncomfortable place he could go farther away from home than he had probably ever been. The full story is in Acts 9 and 10 if you want to read it.
The second character was Paul. His story is quite different from Peter’s. Also a kosher Jew, Paul (or Saul at that point) had been raised in a bi-cultural community in place similar to that of Caesarea near the coast, taught in the synagogues, knew multiple languages, and was legalistically religious following Jewish culture. Unlike Peter he was familiar with the sound of the sea and culture of Rome, even being a Roman citizen. After Paul’s conversion and many years of ministry he is arrested and take to Caesarea as a prisoner to await a ship that would take him to Rome. Here he stayed for two years listening to the sounds of the ocean, writing, and defending himself to those around him, always preaching the gospel.
The point is this. Here are two different men, one a fisher man, unexposed to much of the world outside of his little lake, one a bicultural, bilingual, Jew from the coast. Both had been prepared in different ways to reach “Jerusalem, Judah and Samaria, and the end of the earth”, which for Paul extended even further. And both did in spite of the discomfort and frustrations that accompanied their activities.
The Harbor at Caesarea.
My Professor, Dr. Wright, sitting where Paul probably sat as a prisioner in Caesarea
Herod's Aqueduct taking Water to his new port city at Caesarea.
A view of the Jezreel Valley from Mt. Carmel.
So, thoughts from day 1 and a few of the places we stopped at and talked about...
October 23, 2010
Our first stop on the Galilee field study was Caesarea, a harbor along the northern part of Israel’s coast. It was built by Herod the Great as a port city and like his other architectural endeavors, magnificent. A proud, charismatic man, Herod hated being outdone and rarely was there anybody before our after able to compete with him. He built Caesarea in a harsh, previously unoccupied area, enabling him to claim the full credit for taming this section of Coast. It became the key port for Israel, rivaling that of places like Alexandria in Egypt, or Athens in Greece. Herod built it in a way that showed his loyalty to Rome. Those who landed there experienced a “home away from home”, surrounded by mosaics, pillars, and structures pumping full Roman air. Although Herod loved to built large magnificent complexes to illustrate how powerful, cultural, wealthy and Roman he was, the port of Caesarea severed another purpose. It enabled Herod to have control of both the regions of Galilee and Judah, as opposed to Joppa which was too far from Galilee and Acco, (one of the only Natural ports in Israel) which was too far from Judah and Jerusalem. Caesarea provided a perfect middle ground. The sand dunes receded a bit allowing access from the hills to the coast, and was unoccupied allowing Herod to fully take over and do or build anything he wanted having full control. It is a beautiful site. The ruins of once beautiful buildings going right up to the water. Herod even had a fresh water pool built into the ocean surrounded by a wall. There is a theatre, a Hippodrome, an Amphitheatre, a man made harbor secured to the ground beneath the sea with cement that hardens underwater, palaces, sarcophagus’, and all kinds of other treasures.
Two other important New Testament characters also went to Caesarea. One of them was named Peter. Some things about Peter: although he was a disciple of Jesus, Peter was still kosher, still followed the Jewish customs to a large extent. He was from the area of Galilee and had lived and worked there most of his life. Even in his travels with Jesus he had rarely left the hill country. The hill people feared the coast, the ocean. It was an untamable, uncontrollable beast waiting to eat them. Not only that, but that area was very gentile by Peter’s time, full of un-kosher Hellenists from across the sea. So in Acts when Peter is called Joppa, imagine how uncomfortable he must feel. He far away from anything familiar surrounded by people who are not even followers of Christ let alone kosher Jews. I know I would feel awkward. Then on top of that he gets called even deeper into Gentile land with a summoning from a Roman general named Cornelius. Peter goes there and enters Cornelius’ house, something a kosher Jews wasn’t supposed to do. There is more to the story, about why Peter went. I just want you to think about, like I have been, how strange it must have been for Peter to suddenly have the rules change and how he must have felt. Yet there he went, for the sake of the people, and because the Lord commanded him. Imagine a small fisherman, taken out of his small environment and sent into the most uncomfortable place he could go farther away from home than he had probably ever been. The full story is in Acts 9 and 10 if you want to read it.
The second character was Paul. His story is quite different from Peter’s. Also a kosher Jew, Paul (or Saul at that point) had been raised in a bi-cultural community in place similar to that of Caesarea near the coast, taught in the synagogues, knew multiple languages, and was legalistically religious following Jewish culture. Unlike Peter he was familiar with the sound of the sea and culture of Rome, even being a Roman citizen. After Paul’s conversion and many years of ministry he is arrested and take to Caesarea as a prisoner to await a ship that would take him to Rome. Here he stayed for two years listening to the sounds of the ocean, writing, and defending himself to those around him, always preaching the gospel.
The point is this. Here are two different men, one a fisher man, unexposed to much of the world outside of his little lake, one a bicultural, bilingual, Jew from the coast. Both had been prepared in different ways to reach “Jerusalem, Judah and Samaria, and the end of the earth”, which for Paul extended even further. And both did in spite of the discomfort and frustrations that accompanied their activities.
The Harbor at Caesarea.
My Professor, Dr. Wright, sitting where Paul probably sat as a prisioner in Caesarea
Herod's Aqueduct taking Water to his new port city at Caesarea.
A view of the Jezreel Valley from Mt. Carmel.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Southern Israel day 3
October 11, 2010
What can be said after such a day. There are few words: wild, crazy, amazing, strange, beautiful. These places we go have connections with what we believe. The things discovered here and there alter perceptions, on scripture and the life described there, stories told there. Wild: standing on Masada looking around and imagining Herod building his palaces, the luxury once furnishing it (that requiring a lot of imagining). Crazy: the story Josephus told about Jews committing suicide to remain free from Rome. Amazing: seeing the lowest place in the world and standing next to it and in it. Strange: imagining a scrolls and scrolls of scripture being found in clay jars buried in caves in the middle of nowhere. Beautiful: all of it!
I must admit though, I was struck by a thought as I stood in the dead sea watching people float around looking like they were laying on rafts or mats. I thought it was beautiful, the salt on the rocks forming crystals, the blue of the water, the color of the mountains behind the water: gold and cream, the blue in the sky and the brilliant white of the clouds floating overhead. And then I realized something: it was all dead. There was nothing growing in the hills around the sea or in it because the salt killed it all. Nothing could survive. I thought something dead was beautiful. And yet, there is life near it. As we drove further down the line of the sea grass and shrubs and trees began to spring up, green and thick. And there is life in the salt and chemicals, providing economically for the people who make a profit off what comes out of the sea: money to buy food and shelter for their families. Sure some of these guys just want to get rich, put it still provides life for their families.
But I have stayed stuck on why I thought it was so beautiful or why I thought the barren empty wilderness was beautiful, or the dry white cliffs of the wadi we hiked through. What about it made me call it beautiful? Why have these images stayed with me more than the waterfalls of en-Gedi or the green lands of the coast? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I can identify with the dry land right now more than the well watered; the fight for survival in the dusty wilderness rather than the security and surety of life in the land of water. Maybe it’s because I remember feeling afraid as we drove around and along the cliffs and hiked into high places while I felt safe on the flat level ground of the Shephelah. Whatever the reason, I remember the dry images better. They stay with me, following me around.
Perhaps it’s because I see myself like the Israelites, aware that only God can provide the water needed to survive, but still trying to make it through on my own, or looking other places for an alternative water source and not finding one, but not wanting to admit that I need rain. I don’t know the reason, I’m still trying to figure it out. Maybe someday I’ll know. Maybe. Or maybe not.
What can be said after such a day. There are few words: wild, crazy, amazing, strange, beautiful. These places we go have connections with what we believe. The things discovered here and there alter perceptions, on scripture and the life described there, stories told there. Wild: standing on Masada looking around and imagining Herod building his palaces, the luxury once furnishing it (that requiring a lot of imagining). Crazy: the story Josephus told about Jews committing suicide to remain free from Rome. Amazing: seeing the lowest place in the world and standing next to it and in it. Strange: imagining a scrolls and scrolls of scripture being found in clay jars buried in caves in the middle of nowhere. Beautiful: all of it!
I must admit though, I was struck by a thought as I stood in the dead sea watching people float around looking like they were laying on rafts or mats. I thought it was beautiful, the salt on the rocks forming crystals, the blue of the water, the color of the mountains behind the water: gold and cream, the blue in the sky and the brilliant white of the clouds floating overhead. And then I realized something: it was all dead. There was nothing growing in the hills around the sea or in it because the salt killed it all. Nothing could survive. I thought something dead was beautiful. And yet, there is life near it. As we drove further down the line of the sea grass and shrubs and trees began to spring up, green and thick. And there is life in the salt and chemicals, providing economically for the people who make a profit off what comes out of the sea: money to buy food and shelter for their families. Sure some of these guys just want to get rich, put it still provides life for their families.
But I have stayed stuck on why I thought it was so beautiful or why I thought the barren empty wilderness was beautiful, or the dry white cliffs of the wadi we hiked through. What about it made me call it beautiful? Why have these images stayed with me more than the waterfalls of en-Gedi or the green lands of the coast? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I can identify with the dry land right now more than the well watered; the fight for survival in the dusty wilderness rather than the security and surety of life in the land of water. Maybe it’s because I remember feeling afraid as we drove around and along the cliffs and hiked into high places while I felt safe on the flat level ground of the Shephelah. Whatever the reason, I remember the dry images better. They stay with me, following me around.
Perhaps it’s because I see myself like the Israelites, aware that only God can provide the water needed to survive, but still trying to make it through on my own, or looking other places for an alternative water source and not finding one, but not wanting to admit that I need rain. I don’t know the reason, I’m still trying to figure it out. Maybe someday I’ll know. Maybe. Or maybe not.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Southern Israel Day Two
MOre thoughts from day two of our field study this weekend....
October 10, 2010
I have never really thought much about how the Israelites made sacrifices, just that there were some rocks and an animal that died and special rules for how it should be done. And when Jesus came as the final sacrifice that was no longer required. But I am realizing how important and rather intense these sacrifices were with blood everywhere and animals making strange sounds as they died. I haven’t ever watched an animal be slaughtered in person, but I can imagine what it might have been like and it doesn’t look pleasant in my head.
I also never thought about the similarities between Israelite sacrifices and those of the surrounding nations. They really weren’t that different except for the power being sacrificed to: one was real, one wasn’t. I was reminded of the story of Elijah and the prophets of Baal in 1 Kings 18. Even though the prophets of Baal and Elijah had the same set up, except that Elijah’s wood was completely soaked, it only took one quiet short prayer from Elijah to bring fire down from heaven while those praying to Baal were yelling for a long time without the tiniest response of any kind. There were 850 Baal prophets and one prophet of God. I guess numbers aren’t everything. My point is that I always considered Israelite practices to be very different from the traditions of the nations surrounding them. I guess it makes sense there would be such strict rules for Israel to follow and why they got sucked away so easily. It would be easy to start associating one tradition with another and get side tracked to where it was the same gods all around. If I do it (which I do) why would I think they would be any different? They were supposed to be, but so am I, and I’m not. I guess people haven’t changed that much.
And yet, it seems like it would be hard to associate our God, the God of Israel, with any other god. He is so unique, so different, so personal and interactive with us, with Israel. The idea of having a similar way of worship to pagan gods seems ridiculous. But it makes me wonder, why did other cultures also sacrifice animals, have fresh clean blood poured out on an alter. Was there something they understood about the need for a sacrifice to appease the gods even though the sacrifice was to a god that couldn’t hear them? Maybe it was God’s way of making a point. Here you are doing something similar to what they do, but when you do it in the way I commanded you, I answer, and they remain unanswered like with Elijah and the Baal prophets. Or maybe it was meant to be very different and we all have screwed it up. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be doing something completely different, but the way and how and why it was done. Maybe it was supposed to be the way for us as Christians also. Maybe it wasn’t about separating ourselves from Jewish tradition so people would know we were different. Maybe it was about fulfilling the Jewish tradition because the Messiah had returned. Just thoughts that move from one thing to another in my head. Sometimes I wonder where all these ideas come from.
A replicated 4 horned alter at Beersheba
where Abraham dug a well.
October 10, 2010
I have never really thought much about how the Israelites made sacrifices, just that there were some rocks and an animal that died and special rules for how it should be done. And when Jesus came as the final sacrifice that was no longer required. But I am realizing how important and rather intense these sacrifices were with blood everywhere and animals making strange sounds as they died. I haven’t ever watched an animal be slaughtered in person, but I can imagine what it might have been like and it doesn’t look pleasant in my head.
I also never thought about the similarities between Israelite sacrifices and those of the surrounding nations. They really weren’t that different except for the power being sacrificed to: one was real, one wasn’t. I was reminded of the story of Elijah and the prophets of Baal in 1 Kings 18. Even though the prophets of Baal and Elijah had the same set up, except that Elijah’s wood was completely soaked, it only took one quiet short prayer from Elijah to bring fire down from heaven while those praying to Baal were yelling for a long time without the tiniest response of any kind. There were 850 Baal prophets and one prophet of God. I guess numbers aren’t everything. My point is that I always considered Israelite practices to be very different from the traditions of the nations surrounding them. I guess it makes sense there would be such strict rules for Israel to follow and why they got sucked away so easily. It would be easy to start associating one tradition with another and get side tracked to where it was the same gods all around. If I do it (which I do) why would I think they would be any different? They were supposed to be, but so am I, and I’m not. I guess people haven’t changed that much.
And yet, it seems like it would be hard to associate our God, the God of Israel, with any other god. He is so unique, so different, so personal and interactive with us, with Israel. The idea of having a similar way of worship to pagan gods seems ridiculous. But it makes me wonder, why did other cultures also sacrifice animals, have fresh clean blood poured out on an alter. Was there something they understood about the need for a sacrifice to appease the gods even though the sacrifice was to a god that couldn’t hear them? Maybe it was God’s way of making a point. Here you are doing something similar to what they do, but when you do it in the way I commanded you, I answer, and they remain unanswered like with Elijah and the Baal prophets. Or maybe it was meant to be very different and we all have screwed it up. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be doing something completely different, but the way and how and why it was done. Maybe it was supposed to be the way for us as Christians also. Maybe it wasn’t about separating ourselves from Jewish tradition so people would know we were different. Maybe it was about fulfilling the Jewish tradition because the Messiah had returned. Just thoughts that move from one thing to another in my head. Sometimes I wonder where all these ideas come from.
A replicated 4 horned alter at Beersheba
where Abraham dug a well.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Southern Israel Day One
Dear Family and Friends,
I'll be posting my thoughts from our last field trip over the next few days. There is one from each day and although it doesn't give exact details as to what we did or where we went (i'll put that up when I get a chance), it'll at least give you an idea of what I saw and learned. I'll post them seperatly so you get a chance to see them all and they don't turn into one big mass. Plus it means there will be something new to see for a couple days in a row! lucky you. So...here's day one.
October 9, 2010
Every field trip means something new. It’s always a new place, sometimes it’s a new fact, and sometimes it’s a new idea, one that can’t be explained easily with words. It’s an individual idea, a kind a vision that you alone get, one that completes a previous vision. Today it was the story of David and Goliath, the Israelites and the Philistines, the swinging doors of the Shephelah being visualized while standing on a hill looking at them. I realized when I used to hear the story of David fighting Goliath, I gave David the characteristics I knew of all boys that age: crazy kids who play video games and soccer and get mad at their parents and pick on their siblings. But this boy was different. By the time he met up with Goliath he had battled lions, found water and survived in land that was a cousin to the desert. Sure something grew in the land David wandered, but not much. Previously I envisioned David feeding is sheep in green grassed, hilly, fields with maybe a few rocks around, some wildflowers, the kind of places we have at home. But David’s land wasn’t like that. Maybe right after a long, wet, rainy, winter but otherwise it was dry and barren, full of thistles and thorns (I know now, I have walked through them). As Dr. Wright always says, “you have to be tough to survive out here.” He’s right. The people who lived in these hills were hardy and sturdy, a kind of mountain people.
It was strange to stand on the hill of Azekah overlooking the Shephelah on one side and the hills of Judah on the other. It was stranger realizing I was understanding the battle strategy of the Philistines and Israelites, the importance of the chalk trough, what would happen when the doors swung one direction vs. the other. I used to wonder how these great generals through time knew when and where and how to arrange their troops to win the battle. Now I know it was because they knew the lay of the land, the geography, the key places that needed to be held and where they natural defenses were.
I love stories, heroic epic stories, the kinds of stories that come to life leaping off the page till the room is full of battles and loves and frightening moments dancing around in a swirl of color and motion. The more geography I learn, the more land I see, the more the characters of the Bible jump off the pages and create scenes around me full of life and color, noises and smells until my imagination feels like it is going to explode with all of its activity. I can see Abraham coming down the patriarchal highway to Beersheba with his huge caravan of people and animals, digging a well in the dusty, dry land, and making treaties with area kings. I see David scrambling over dry hills after sheep and goats or walking through the hills to visit his brothers at Saul’s camp, or fleeing into the wilderness to hide in the wadis and crevices in the rocks, the world silent around him.
I have always loved these stories. But now I have seen similar scenes to what they saw, walked similar places and understood some of why they did what they did. Even more I find myself wondering, “what were David’s thoughts as he sat listening to the silence of the wilderness” or “How did Abraham feel meandering through a new land that had been promised to his descendants.” I suppose for those things all I will ever have is guesses and my imagination.
P.S. love you all and Shalom!
I'll be posting my thoughts from our last field trip over the next few days. There is one from each day and although it doesn't give exact details as to what we did or where we went (i'll put that up when I get a chance), it'll at least give you an idea of what I saw and learned. I'll post them seperatly so you get a chance to see them all and they don't turn into one big mass. Plus it means there will be something new to see for a couple days in a row! lucky you. So...here's day one.
October 9, 2010
Every field trip means something new. It’s always a new place, sometimes it’s a new fact, and sometimes it’s a new idea, one that can’t be explained easily with words. It’s an individual idea, a kind a vision that you alone get, one that completes a previous vision. Today it was the story of David and Goliath, the Israelites and the Philistines, the swinging doors of the Shephelah being visualized while standing on a hill looking at them. I realized when I used to hear the story of David fighting Goliath, I gave David the characteristics I knew of all boys that age: crazy kids who play video games and soccer and get mad at their parents and pick on their siblings. But this boy was different. By the time he met up with Goliath he had battled lions, found water and survived in land that was a cousin to the desert. Sure something grew in the land David wandered, but not much. Previously I envisioned David feeding is sheep in green grassed, hilly, fields with maybe a few rocks around, some wildflowers, the kind of places we have at home. But David’s land wasn’t like that. Maybe right after a long, wet, rainy, winter but otherwise it was dry and barren, full of thistles and thorns (I know now, I have walked through them). As Dr. Wright always says, “you have to be tough to survive out here.” He’s right. The people who lived in these hills were hardy and sturdy, a kind of mountain people.
It was strange to stand on the hill of Azekah overlooking the Shephelah on one side and the hills of Judah on the other. It was stranger realizing I was understanding the battle strategy of the Philistines and Israelites, the importance of the chalk trough, what would happen when the doors swung one direction vs. the other. I used to wonder how these great generals through time knew when and where and how to arrange their troops to win the battle. Now I know it was because they knew the lay of the land, the geography, the key places that needed to be held and where they natural defenses were.
I love stories, heroic epic stories, the kinds of stories that come to life leaping off the page till the room is full of battles and loves and frightening moments dancing around in a swirl of color and motion. The more geography I learn, the more land I see, the more the characters of the Bible jump off the pages and create scenes around me full of life and color, noises and smells until my imagination feels like it is going to explode with all of its activity. I can see Abraham coming down the patriarchal highway to Beersheba with his huge caravan of people and animals, digging a well in the dusty, dry land, and making treaties with area kings. I see David scrambling over dry hills after sheep and goats or walking through the hills to visit his brothers at Saul’s camp, or fleeing into the wilderness to hide in the wadis and crevices in the rocks, the world silent around him.
I have always loved these stories. But now I have seen similar scenes to what they saw, walked similar places and understood some of why they did what they did. Even more I find myself wondering, “what were David’s thoughts as he sat listening to the silence of the wilderness” or “How did Abraham feel meandering through a new land that had been promised to his descendants.” I suppose for those things all I will ever have is guesses and my imagination.
P.S. love you all and Shalom!
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Blessings…
I have learned many things here about Jewish culture and traditions, both good and bad. This one is good. There is a theory as to why the Jewish people have so many awards, Nobel peace prizes, and successful, well known people in general. But before I can tell you what the theory is I need to explain a custom, a tradition that is done during Shabbat. I don’t know how many of you have seen Fiddler on the Roof (a movie I really want to watch again after experiencing some of these traditions), but there is a scene in the first part where they family celebrates Shabbat. They cook a wonderful feast, set out beautiful tablecloths, dress up, and gather round the table. The mother lights the candles, they sing, and then eat their lovely meal celebrating Shabbat. In the movie it’s a duet, (which we don’t do although we do sing and there are Shabbat songs, I’ll teach you some when I get back. They are fun), which is a blessing upon their children. Every Shabbat the wife blesses the husband, the husband blesses the wife, and the parents bless the children. They bless them. How many other cultures can you think of that regularly bless their children in such a way. And it’s not only on Shabbat but a regular thing for parents to say blessing over their children. So now you know the tradition here is the theory (although you can probably guess it now): the blessing of the parents give the children courage and self esteem to do things without fear and they flourish, in life, in the world. Other cultures are known for famous, genius people too, for example, China. But the culture there is not one of blessing but of pressure to bring honor to family and country and if you fail, oh man, you had better not fail. (Now this is just my personal understanding of what I have seen and experienced thus far, not from any research so my evaluation and comparisons may not be exactly accurate, just as a note). This thought was brought on by a conversation I had with Dad this morning. I said goodbye thinking, “Thank you God for giving me parents that bless me.” I have been given wings by their blessings to go out and do all kinds of things: to learn and grow and flourish and travel and see and do new things in new places, even when that means I am far away for a long time. They have loved me and told me and shown me their love, and part of that is through their blessings to and on me.
So to Mom and Dad,
Thank you. For your love and encouragement and your blessings. They make me Green.
So to Mom and Dad,
Thank you. For your love and encouragement and your blessings. They make me Green.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Why?
Dear Family and Friends,
This is the question I have been asking myself all week as I spent my days cooped up in my room or the library working on my first big paper. Doing homework again is hard. I was talking with a friend about how the first few weeks were like vacation with the occasional reading required. Then this past week, panic hit. I have so much to do! It was like delayed syllabus shock. Then of course came the question of why I decided to spend oodles of dollars to come back and do homework again. I really must be crazy. But then I remember, that when it comes right down to it...I may complain about homework and hate the stress of writing a paper and wondering if I'll get good grades and all that, but I absolutly love school, love learning, love being taught and then sharing what I have learned with others....like you all. So this is a continuing process of remembering what I love and trying to throw myself into it as fully as possible to get the most out of in spite of the occasional stress and frustration.
Here is something I learned about olive tree's this week in class:
First thing to know about an olive tree is that they are evergreen trees. Really! They are forever green. Well, until they die, but they don't lose leaves like our trees at home, all at once. They gradually lose them a few at a time and quickly replace them, so the tree's are never withot leaves. It gives a sense of eternal life, never dying. Maybe a possiblity for why oil was used for annointing. It is also incredibly healthy. Israeli's have a very low risk of heart attack due to all the olive oil they consume. In ancient times they also used it to light thier lamps, cook, religious ceremonies, and beauty products. This stuff is handy. It's near harvest time for the olives here. There are some olive trees along the road leading to school. A couple weeks ago we walked by and there were people in the trees and under them, with sheets and buckets spread out under the trees, beating the olives out! It was fun to watch how they did it. They were out there all day, beating and cracking and laughing and talking. Olives are a vital staple of life in Israel. Their little gnarled shape will be missed when I come home. Here is a photo of my roomate Stacy picking an olive off the tree and tasting it. Apparently it wasn't quite ripe enough yet. hahaha!
This is the question I have been asking myself all week as I spent my days cooped up in my room or the library working on my first big paper. Doing homework again is hard. I was talking with a friend about how the first few weeks were like vacation with the occasional reading required. Then this past week, panic hit. I have so much to do! It was like delayed syllabus shock. Then of course came the question of why I decided to spend oodles of dollars to come back and do homework again. I really must be crazy. But then I remember, that when it comes right down to it...I may complain about homework and hate the stress of writing a paper and wondering if I'll get good grades and all that, but I absolutly love school, love learning, love being taught and then sharing what I have learned with others....like you all. So this is a continuing process of remembering what I love and trying to throw myself into it as fully as possible to get the most out of in spite of the occasional stress and frustration.
Here is something I learned about olive tree's this week in class:
First thing to know about an olive tree is that they are evergreen trees. Really! They are forever green. Well, until they die, but they don't lose leaves like our trees at home, all at once. They gradually lose them a few at a time and quickly replace them, so the tree's are never withot leaves. It gives a sense of eternal life, never dying. Maybe a possiblity for why oil was used for annointing. It is also incredibly healthy. Israeli's have a very low risk of heart attack due to all the olive oil they consume. In ancient times they also used it to light thier lamps, cook, religious ceremonies, and beauty products. This stuff is handy. It's near harvest time for the olives here. There are some olive trees along the road leading to school. A couple weeks ago we walked by and there were people in the trees and under them, with sheets and buckets spread out under the trees, beating the olives out! It was fun to watch how they did it. They were out there all day, beating and cracking and laughing and talking. Olives are a vital staple of life in Israel. Their little gnarled shape will be missed when I come home. Here is a photo of my roomate Stacy picking an olive off the tree and tasting it. Apparently it wasn't quite ripe enough yet. hahaha!
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
A week in the life
Dear Family and Friends
I know it’s only been a week, and life is just going like usual but I feel like so much has happened since I last updated you. Maybe it’s just me and my head keeps getting filled with so many things it’s just hard to keep up with myself! So here is an update on what has happened this week, er weekend mostly I guess.
On …Wednesday Succot started. This is the final festival in the fall season of festivals. It starts with Rosh Hashanah, then Yom Kippur, and finally Succot. I will have to do a separate post on these because each of them basically needs there own. There are fascinating to study. So anyway, this whole week is the holiday. On Thursday my friend Megan (she is also a grad at Wheaton) had her birthday so we went out to celebrate. It was a fun night but in the process another friend threw her hip out of socket stepping off a curb, so that made for an interesting evening and next couple of days. Friday was Archeology of Jerusalem class (3 hours straight with no break) ultimate Frisbee (which was so hot and humid) and Shabbat in the evening (When I come home we are having one and I’m going to make you all Halla bread ). Saturday Megan and I and another friend, Hans, went to a Jewish man’s house for Shabbat lunch. His name is Alter and he dug with us at Ashkelon this summer. It was his family, his wife and4 yr. old son, and a friend of theirs from somewhere. It was very interesting. The food was delicious but all three of us left with upset stomachs. We aren’t sure why. At one point the little boy comes out with white stuff all over his hands and his mom is going “what did you do!?”. Turns out he had gotten into the chamomile lotion and dumped it all over his toy box. It was interesting though because they couldn’t do anything about it…clean it up or anything because that would be work and they couldn’t work. So it just had to sit there until Shabbat ended. Kind of a weird thing. They also brought out their prayer books and sang their songs and muttered their prayers and we just sat there and tried not to stare at them. Slightly awkward, but was interesting to witness it in a home. It is interesting to observe the Jewish cultures and traditions. I am realizing that in the Christian attempt to separate themselves from Judaism we have lost cultural and historical understanding that is so important to understanding scripture. But again, I’ll have to mention that more later when I have had time to study it a bit more in depth.
Sunday was a field study to Samaria. We visited Shechem, Shiloh, Samaria and Mt. Gerizim. Sadly it was really hazy and we couldn’t hardly see anything but we did get to hear from a Samaritan priest and what they believe. Their traditions are a bit different from the Jewish, even though they celebrate the same festivals and holidays. It was very interesting. At one point he was describing the Samaritans and he said, “The Good Samaritan? We are the Good Samaritans.” It was sort of funny. So that was Samaria. Granted we learned a lot more than that but my head is slightly tired and I don’t want to have to recall all the information at the moment. Guess if you really want to know you can read my notes when I get home!
Life is going well here. I am surrounded by smart godly people who are challenging me left at right on multiple levels. And we are always laughing about something. I miss home and all of you who are there. I miss ice cold coke refills (Hannah that means soda in general). I miss cheese burgers. I miss spending time with all of you and seeing you regularly. But I am having a hard time imagining the end of the semester here when I have to leave this place and all these people. I know if I stayed it would be different. Most of them are only here for a semester like me and everything would change next semester. Yet I’ve only been here a month and my heart feels like it’s going to get ripped in half when I have to leave. But who knows. Maybe by the time the semester ends I’ll be ready to say goodbye.
For now, know I love you all and am thinking about you often.
Shalom,
Cait
I know it’s only been a week, and life is just going like usual but I feel like so much has happened since I last updated you. Maybe it’s just me and my head keeps getting filled with so many things it’s just hard to keep up with myself! So here is an update on what has happened this week, er weekend mostly I guess.
On …Wednesday Succot started. This is the final festival in the fall season of festivals. It starts with Rosh Hashanah, then Yom Kippur, and finally Succot. I will have to do a separate post on these because each of them basically needs there own. There are fascinating to study. So anyway, this whole week is the holiday. On Thursday my friend Megan (she is also a grad at Wheaton) had her birthday so we went out to celebrate. It was a fun night but in the process another friend threw her hip out of socket stepping off a curb, so that made for an interesting evening and next couple of days. Friday was Archeology of Jerusalem class (3 hours straight with no break) ultimate Frisbee (which was so hot and humid) and Shabbat in the evening (When I come home we are having one and I’m going to make you all Halla bread ). Saturday Megan and I and another friend, Hans, went to a Jewish man’s house for Shabbat lunch. His name is Alter and he dug with us at Ashkelon this summer. It was his family, his wife and4 yr. old son, and a friend of theirs from somewhere. It was very interesting. The food was delicious but all three of us left with upset stomachs. We aren’t sure why. At one point the little boy comes out with white stuff all over his hands and his mom is going “what did you do!?”. Turns out he had gotten into the chamomile lotion and dumped it all over his toy box. It was interesting though because they couldn’t do anything about it…clean it up or anything because that would be work and they couldn’t work. So it just had to sit there until Shabbat ended. Kind of a weird thing. They also brought out their prayer books and sang their songs and muttered their prayers and we just sat there and tried not to stare at them. Slightly awkward, but was interesting to witness it in a home. It is interesting to observe the Jewish cultures and traditions. I am realizing that in the Christian attempt to separate themselves from Judaism we have lost cultural and historical understanding that is so important to understanding scripture. But again, I’ll have to mention that more later when I have had time to study it a bit more in depth.
Sunday was a field study to Samaria. We visited Shechem, Shiloh, Samaria and Mt. Gerizim. Sadly it was really hazy and we couldn’t hardly see anything but we did get to hear from a Samaritan priest and what they believe. Their traditions are a bit different from the Jewish, even though they celebrate the same festivals and holidays. It was very interesting. At one point he was describing the Samaritans and he said, “The Good Samaritan? We are the Good Samaritans.” It was sort of funny. So that was Samaria. Granted we learned a lot more than that but my head is slightly tired and I don’t want to have to recall all the information at the moment. Guess if you really want to know you can read my notes when I get home!
Life is going well here. I am surrounded by smart godly people who are challenging me left at right on multiple levels. And we are always laughing about something. I miss home and all of you who are there. I miss ice cold coke refills (Hannah that means soda in general). I miss cheese burgers. I miss spending time with all of you and seeing you regularly. But I am having a hard time imagining the end of the semester here when I have to leave this place and all these people. I know if I stayed it would be different. Most of them are only here for a semester like me and everything would change next semester. Yet I’ve only been here a month and my heart feels like it’s going to get ripped in half when I have to leave. But who knows. Maybe by the time the semester ends I’ll be ready to say goodbye.
For now, know I love you all and am thinking about you often.
Shalom,
Cait
a Second thought from Benjamin
On this last trip to Benjamin my professor gave me a new understanding of a phrase and I wanted to share it with you. In Dueteronomy 32:10 there is a phrase, “he guarded him as the apple of his eye.” Now this is not an exact translation, but it is the closest example we have in English. The exact translation is “the little man of his eye.” It’s understandable why they didn’t translate it that way, we wouldn’t get it. Little man of his eye? What the heck does that mean? Well, let me tell you. Here is what our prof. had us do. “Find a neighbor next to you, get really close to them and look in their eyes. What do you see?” It was slightly awkward but we did it. You try it. What do you see when you look in a person’s eye up close? Do you see a reflection? Can you see a reflection of yourself? That’s the idea. God will hold Israel that close. So close that they can see their reflection in his eye, and his in them. You could go a lot of places with that little analogy. But I’m not going to. Just think about it. He holds us that close, always. In fact read the entire chapter! It looks different to me than it will to you, but …eh, read it anyway.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The land of Benjamin
Some thoughts from my most recent trip around the area of Benjamin:
When I look at a map of Israel I automatically make it the size of someplace at home that’s familiar, like Ohio, and all the distances are computed the same way in my head. (Maybe because maps of Israel are blown up so much so that you can see it! It’s so tiny.) Someplace ½ an inch away on a map from home will take 30 min to 1 hour to drive. Here, someplace that far away means maybe a 15 min drive, but it’s only that long because of the hills. If it were a straight shot it would take even less time. You can stand on a hill in the middle of the wilderness and not hear a sound except the quite buzz of a giant bug, or occasional bird or perhaps a dog barking. Otherwise there is nothing but the ringing in your ears. And yet you climb the hill higher and away to your right, what’s that? It’s green trees, water, life. And if you look to your left what do you see? A village, no two villages! And straight in front, if you can distinguish it through the haze, is a third village. You can drive from a beautiful oasis, like Jericho, full of fruit and flowering plants, date palms and grape vines, out and up a twisting vein of a road through the wilderness with no color visible other than gray and brown and a cloudless blue sky in every direction. Then suddenly, you crest the hill and spread out in front of you is life: rich fertile soil for growing wheat, people and spiked plants and houses and animals.
Standing in Jerusalem or on a hill overlooking it you can feel the way it is hugged by the hills. It is surrounded by a wall of hills. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but it is so striking. Even from the North where the access is easiest, you still have hills to climb in order to reach the city. If you drive over, around, and under these hills to the west, you find the land abruptly opens up before you into sweeping, rolling, open spaces with broad valleys green and full of life even now before the rains come. Standing at Gezer to the west of Jerusalem, you can look out in any direction and see a different landscape. To the west the sun glimmers off of the Mediterranean sea. East the hill country is visible with the Judean wilderness faintly sticking up behind it. South the Shephelah rolls away in gentle waves while to the North the land is open and covered with the cityscape of Tel Aviv and surrounding towns. There are trees of all kinds covering various hills, gorgeous bushes full of flowers in brilliant red, pink, orange and white.
As I stood on top of Gezer and looked out toward the sea I experienced a feeling I hadn’t realized I was missing until then: freedom. I was raised in the Ohio countryside, the place of fields and flat land. I realized I had been feeling Closter phobic in Jerusalem. I have never been a city person and being surrounded by hills almost makes it worse. It gives you the feeling of someone wrapping their arms around you and not letting go till you feel so squeezed you just want to explode out and breathe in a space all your own. I realized that is how I feel in Jerusalem. I have loved the ability to walk anywhere I want to go. Yes, it might take awhile, and you may have to climb a million hills (side note: if you ever come to Jerusalem make sure you spend a few months climbing hills and walking so they don’t kill you when you get here!) but not as long as it would at home and it is a little freeing to just wander around the city discovering shops and fun little stores with souvenirs or cheap clothes or whatever. But I miss the wide open fields of home.
Shortly after my liberating experience of recognizing I was in a wide open space (mostly) Emily (one of the students here who helps lead some of our field studies) said something about the Israelites that struck me. She said that the Israelites were a hill people. They didn’t know what to do with the low hills of the west and the open land of the coast. It frightened them, left them feeling unprotected. If you had lived most of you life, in a place surrounded by hills, enclosed and covered in every direction, it would make sense that you would feel very vulnerable in the openness of western Israel (of course people from Colorado probably think this is nothing). However, if someone like me, who is used to open spaces where everything is flat (or at least more open), they could feel very trapped within the hill country. It gave me a new perspective on cultural differences. Even within this little space of land (smaller than the distances between Bluffton, Beaverdam, Columbus Grove, and Pandora) there were various cultures from the shepherds in the wilderness, to the hill people, to the coastal towns and those living in the agricultural Shepelah. I don’t think I will ever get over this. Sorry, I try to stay concise but these posts always turn into books!
Much love and Shalom,
Cait
When I look at a map of Israel I automatically make it the size of someplace at home that’s familiar, like Ohio, and all the distances are computed the same way in my head. (Maybe because maps of Israel are blown up so much so that you can see it! It’s so tiny.) Someplace ½ an inch away on a map from home will take 30 min to 1 hour to drive. Here, someplace that far away means maybe a 15 min drive, but it’s only that long because of the hills. If it were a straight shot it would take even less time. You can stand on a hill in the middle of the wilderness and not hear a sound except the quite buzz of a giant bug, or occasional bird or perhaps a dog barking. Otherwise there is nothing but the ringing in your ears. And yet you climb the hill higher and away to your right, what’s that? It’s green trees, water, life. And if you look to your left what do you see? A village, no two villages! And straight in front, if you can distinguish it through the haze, is a third village. You can drive from a beautiful oasis, like Jericho, full of fruit and flowering plants, date palms and grape vines, out and up a twisting vein of a road through the wilderness with no color visible other than gray and brown and a cloudless blue sky in every direction. Then suddenly, you crest the hill and spread out in front of you is life: rich fertile soil for growing wheat, people and spiked plants and houses and animals.
Standing in Jerusalem or on a hill overlooking it you can feel the way it is hugged by the hills. It is surrounded by a wall of hills. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but it is so striking. Even from the North where the access is easiest, you still have hills to climb in order to reach the city. If you drive over, around, and under these hills to the west, you find the land abruptly opens up before you into sweeping, rolling, open spaces with broad valleys green and full of life even now before the rains come. Standing at Gezer to the west of Jerusalem, you can look out in any direction and see a different landscape. To the west the sun glimmers off of the Mediterranean sea. East the hill country is visible with the Judean wilderness faintly sticking up behind it. South the Shephelah rolls away in gentle waves while to the North the land is open and covered with the cityscape of Tel Aviv and surrounding towns. There are trees of all kinds covering various hills, gorgeous bushes full of flowers in brilliant red, pink, orange and white.
As I stood on top of Gezer and looked out toward the sea I experienced a feeling I hadn’t realized I was missing until then: freedom. I was raised in the Ohio countryside, the place of fields and flat land. I realized I had been feeling Closter phobic in Jerusalem. I have never been a city person and being surrounded by hills almost makes it worse. It gives you the feeling of someone wrapping their arms around you and not letting go till you feel so squeezed you just want to explode out and breathe in a space all your own. I realized that is how I feel in Jerusalem. I have loved the ability to walk anywhere I want to go. Yes, it might take awhile, and you may have to climb a million hills (side note: if you ever come to Jerusalem make sure you spend a few months climbing hills and walking so they don’t kill you when you get here!) but not as long as it would at home and it is a little freeing to just wander around the city discovering shops and fun little stores with souvenirs or cheap clothes or whatever. But I miss the wide open fields of home.
Shortly after my liberating experience of recognizing I was in a wide open space (mostly) Emily (one of the students here who helps lead some of our field studies) said something about the Israelites that struck me. She said that the Israelites were a hill people. They didn’t know what to do with the low hills of the west and the open land of the coast. It frightened them, left them feeling unprotected. If you had lived most of you life, in a place surrounded by hills, enclosed and covered in every direction, it would make sense that you would feel very vulnerable in the openness of western Israel (of course people from Colorado probably think this is nothing). However, if someone like me, who is used to open spaces where everything is flat (or at least more open), they could feel very trapped within the hill country. It gave me a new perspective on cultural differences. Even within this little space of land (smaller than the distances between Bluffton, Beaverdam, Columbus Grove, and Pandora) there were various cultures from the shepherds in the wilderness, to the hill people, to the coastal towns and those living in the agricultural Shepelah. I don’t think I will ever get over this. Sorry, I try to stay concise but these posts always turn into books!
Much love and Shalom,
Cait
The land of Benjamin
Some thoughts from my most recent trip around the area of Benjamin:
When I look at a map of Israel I automatically make it the size of someplace at home that’s familiar, like Ohio, and all the distances are computed the same way in my head. (Maybe because maps of Israel are blown up so much so that you can see it! It’s so tiny.) Someplace ½ an inch away on a map from home will take 30 min to 1 hour to drive. Here, someplace that far away means maybe a 15 min drive, but it’s only that long because of the hills. If it were a straight shot it would take even less time. You can stand on a hill in the middle of the wilderness and not hear a sound except the quite buzz of a giant bug, or occasional bird or perhaps a dog barking. Otherwise there is nothing but the ringing in your ears. And yet you climb the hill higher and away to your right, what’s that? It’s green trees, water, life. And if you look to your left what do you see? A village, no two villages! And straight in front, if you can distinguish it through the haze, is a third village. You can drive from a beautiful oasis, like Jericho, full of fruit and flowering plants, date palms and grape vines, out and up a twisting vein of a road through the wilderness with no color visible other than gray and brown and a cloudless blue sky in every direction. Then suddenly, you crest the hill and spread out in front of you is life: rich fertile soil for growing wheat, people and spiked plants and houses and animals.
Standing in Jerusalem or on a hill overlooking it you can feel the way it is hugged by the hills. It is surrounded by a wall of hills. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but it is so striking. Even from the North where the access is easiest, you still have hills to climb in order to reach the city. If you drive over, around, and under these hills to the west, you find the land abruptly opens up before you into sweeping, rolling, open spaces with broad valleys green and full of life even now before the rains come. Standing at Gezer to the west of Jerusalem, you can look out in any direction and see a different landscape. To the west the sun glimmers off of the Mediterranean sea. East the hill country is visible with the Judean wilderness faintly sticking up behind it. South the Shephelah rolls away in gentle waves while to the North the land is open and covered with the cityscape of Tel Aviv and surrounding towns. There are trees of all kinds covering various hills, gorgeous bushes full of flowers in brilliant red, pink, orange and white.
As I stood on top of Gezer and looked out toward the sea I experienced a feeling I hadn’t realized I was missing until then: freedom. I was raised in the Ohio countryside, the place of fields and flat land. I realized I had been feeling Closter phobic in Jerusalem. I have never been a city person and being surrounded by hills almost makes it worse. It gives you the feeling of someone wrapping their arms around you and not letting go till you feel so squeezed you just want to explode out and breathe in a space all your own. I realized that is how I feel in Jerusalem. I have loved the ability to walk anywhere I want to go. Yes, it might take awhile, and you may have to climb a million hills (side note: if you ever come to Jerusalem make sure you spend a few months climbing hills and walking so they don’t kill you when you get here!) but not as long as it would at home and it is a little freeing to just wander around the city discovering shops and fun little stores with souvenirs or cheap clothes or whatever. But I miss the wide open fields of home.
Shortly after my liberating experience of recognizing I was in a wide open space (mostly) Emily (one of the students here who helps lead some of our field studies) said something about the Israelites that struck me. She said that the Israelites were a hill people. They didn’t know what to do with the low hills of the west and the open land of the coast. It frightened them, left them feeling unprotected. If you had lived most of you life, in a place surrounded by hills, enclosed and covered in every direction, it would make sense that you would feel very vulnerable in the openness of western Israel (of course people from Colorado probably think this is nothing). However, if someone like me, who is used to open spaces where everything is flat (or at least more open), they could feel very trapped within the hill country. It gave me a new perspective on cultural differences. Even within this little space of land (smaller than the distances between Bluffton, Beaverdam, Columbus Grove, and Pandora) there were various cultures from the shepherds in the wilderness, to the hill people, to the coastal towns and those living in the agricultural Shepelah. I don’t think I will ever get over this. Sorry, I try to stay concise but these posts always turn into books!
Much love and Shalom,
Cait
When I look at a map of Israel I automatically make it the size of someplace at home that’s familiar, like Ohio, and all the distances are computed the same way in my head. (Maybe because maps of Israel are blown up so much so that you can see it! It’s so tiny.) Someplace ½ an inch away on a map from home will take 30 min to 1 hour to drive. Here, someplace that far away means maybe a 15 min drive, but it’s only that long because of the hills. If it were a straight shot it would take even less time. You can stand on a hill in the middle of the wilderness and not hear a sound except the quite buzz of a giant bug, or occasional bird or perhaps a dog barking. Otherwise there is nothing but the ringing in your ears. And yet you climb the hill higher and away to your right, what’s that? It’s green trees, water, life. And if you look to your left what do you see? A village, no two villages! And straight in front, if you can distinguish it through the haze, is a third village. You can drive from a beautiful oasis, like Jericho, full of fruit and flowering plants, date palms and grape vines, out and up a twisting vein of a road through the wilderness with no color visible other than gray and brown and a cloudless blue sky in every direction. Then suddenly, you crest the hill and spread out in front of you is life: rich fertile soil for growing wheat, people and spiked plants and houses and animals.
Standing in Jerusalem or on a hill overlooking it you can feel the way it is hugged by the hills. It is surrounded by a wall of hills. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but it is so striking. Even from the North where the access is easiest, you still have hills to climb in order to reach the city. If you drive over, around, and under these hills to the west, you find the land abruptly opens up before you into sweeping, rolling, open spaces with broad valleys green and full of life even now before the rains come. Standing at Gezer to the west of Jerusalem, you can look out in any direction and see a different landscape. To the west the sun glimmers off of the Mediterranean sea. East the hill country is visible with the Judean wilderness faintly sticking up behind it. South the Shephelah rolls away in gentle waves while to the North the land is open and covered with the cityscape of Tel Aviv and surrounding towns. There are trees of all kinds covering various hills, gorgeous bushes full of flowers in brilliant red, pink, orange and white.
As I stood on top of Gezer and looked out toward the sea I experienced a feeling I hadn’t realized I was missing until then: freedom. I was raised in the Ohio countryside, the place of fields and flat land. I realized I had been feeling Closter phobic in Jerusalem. I have never been a city person and being surrounded by hills almost makes it worse. It gives you the feeling of someone wrapping their arms around you and not letting go till you feel so squeezed you just want to explode out and breathe in a space all your own. I realized that is how I feel in Jerusalem. I have loved the ability to walk anywhere I want to go. Yes, it might take awhile, and you may have to climb a million hills (side note: if you ever come to Jerusalem make sure you spend a few months climbing hills and walking so they don’t kill you when you get here!) but not as long as it would at home and it is a little freeing to just wander around the city discovering shops and fun little stores with souvenirs or cheap clothes or whatever. But I miss the wide open fields of home.
Shortly after my liberating experience of recognizing I was in a wide open space (mostly) Emily (one of the students here who helps lead some of our field studies) said something about the Israelites that struck me. She said that the Israelites were a hill people. They didn’t know what to do with the low hills of the west and the open land of the coast. It frightened them, left them feeling unprotected. If you had lived most of you life, in a place surrounded by hills, enclosed and covered in every direction, it would make sense that you would feel very vulnerable in the openness of western Israel (of course people from Colorado probably think this is nothing). However, if someone like me, who is used to open spaces where everything is flat (or at least more open), they could feel very trapped within the hill country. It gave me a new perspective on cultural differences. Even within this little space of land (smaller than the distances between Bluffton, Beaverdam, Columbus Grove, and Pandora) there were various cultures from the shepherds in the wilderness, to the hill people, to the coastal towns and those living in the agricultural Shepelah. I don’t think I will ever get over this. Sorry, I try to stay concise but these posts always turn into books!
Much love and Shalom,
Cait
Monday, September 20, 2010
Waterfalls and boulders
Well all, here is a quick update on my adventures from last Sunday. (I know, i'm behind! So much to tell, too little time to write.) We had a student activity day, which was….can you guess? More wonderful hiking! Whoot whoot! By the end of Saturday’s hiking adventure I was thinking “There is NO WAY I want to hike more tomorrow. But it actually turned out to be super fun. It was beautiful with waterfalls and pools, large volcanic rock you had to scramble over and little lizards running over the rocks in this huge gorge along a river. We were in an upper part of Galilee called the Golan. I didn’t take my camera because I didn’t want to get it wet. We had to swim across a couple areas with our bags above our heads. But other people took pictures. They are on facebook if you want to see them . It was so beautiful though. You didn’t even know this place was there until you were on top of it looking over the edge down. down, down. The trek down was pretty challenging. The hills were steep and though there were steps it sure made my thighs burn. At the bottom of the hill there was a beautiful cool pool with a waterfall. Several people climbed the rocks and jumped into the water. My group kept walking, scrambling over these huge Basalt rocks and using the metal handholds to slide around the edges of rock faces. We ended up on top of a second waterfall. As we arrived one of the guys from our group was trying to get up the nerves to jump off the waterfall down into the pool below. You had to go down and swim through the pool in order to continue hiking, but you didn’t have to jump. There was a ladder you could climb down and then just swim across. That had been my plan. But as we climbed up we started cheering for the guy, his name is Chris, trying to jump. We would count him down and he would get ready and then just stand there. I told him to just let go and he could do. I’m a good encourager, but I wasn’t going to jump. So all of the sudden he turns around and looks at me and says, “Are you jumping?” I thought “crap” cause I wasn’t going to say no, but I didn’t want to jump, so I just said, “if you jump I’ll jump” thinking I would just not go then. But he sticks out his hand and says “shake on it”. I almost didn’t, but then I figured what the heck, so I shook his hand. We counted him down one more time and he jumped. It really didn’t look that far, but I was suddenly very nervous. I ate my lunch quick and then worked up the courage to jump. Several other people had climbed down the ladder by then and there was a large group on the other side of the pool. So I climbed on the rock and after a little encouragement from my friend Megan, launched myself of the rock. I managed to go in straight I think, I don’t remember it hurting. I just remember thinking it was cold…and felt amazing! It was wild. My friend Amy had her camera to take a picture, but didn’t manage to get it. I’m hoping one of the other guys who had his camera got one. Hopefully there is proof! Anyway I was really glad I jumped. The rest of the day we spent hiking, swimming, climbing, laughing, and drinking lots of water. The last place we went was a third waterfall you had to climb down in order to get to the pool below. It was sort of tiered with a water fall above, a small pool, then a second waterfall into a bigger pool. On the far side of the larger pool (none of them were very big, much smaller than ponds at home) there was water pouring of the cliff face in a kind of rain. My friend Liz and I scrambled down to join some other people already swimming. We had hiked back to tell another part of the group there was more waterfalls and to come join us. They had followed behind us a bit. I had swam out to sit on the rocks under the cliff falls when I noticed a group gathered on the rocks above. We weren’t sure what happened but I’ll spare you all the following details of us wondering and just skip to the event. One of the girls in our group, Robin, had climbed up the rocks at the top of the waterfall, just a little ways to set her bag down so it was in a safe dry place. I don’t know if her foot slipped or the ground gave out, but she fell and landed on the rocks about 8 to ten feet below. The guy right in front of her, Joe, managed to keep her from rolling off the rocks into the pool farther down, dropping is camera into the 20 foot pool. It turns out there were several guys from the military with medic training and an Israeli with training and a cell phone. Not to mention we had two people trained in wilderness medical procedures. Overall we were well covered and Robin was well taken care of. It turns out her only injuries were a bruised hip and leg, a busted up chin (requiring a few stitches), a black eye, bump on the head, and minor scratches. They had to carry her out on a stretcher, (not easy since the climb out was almost straight out with hardly room for one person to walk at a time) because they thought her leg might be broken. It turns out it wasn’t thankfully. Robin was so thankful to everyone who helped and that the Lord protected her from more serious injuries. She had such a great attitude. There were more details but the cool part was how everything worked out, how we all banded together to pray for her, and how the rest of us were protected. In spite of that, and getting back a bit late for supper, it was an amazing trip!
Much love to you all!
Shalom,
Cait
P.S. I promise I am being careful so I don’t get injured
Much love to you all!
Shalom,
Cait
P.S. I promise I am being careful so I don’t get injured
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Images of Jerusalem
Here are a few photos's I wanted to upload earlier, however due to technical difficulties it's just now possible. This of course is not nearnly all of the ones I'm taking, but just a few quick snapshots of some of the events in my life these last couple of weeks.( whoa! has it really only been that long?!)
The Israelie Idol competition (Called American Idol Israel since Israel is not supposed to have "Idols". haha!)
Muslim Quarter lights for Ramadan (which just ended)
Well I had more but my internet connections is flailing so that's all for now folks!
Shalom
Cait
The Israelie Idol competition (Called American Idol Israel since Israel is not supposed to have "Idols". haha!)
Muslim Quarter lights for Ramadan (which just ended)
Well I had more but my internet connections is flailing so that's all for now folks!
Shalom
Cait
Adventures in surrounding areas
What a weekend! Saturday we traveled to areas just outside of Jerusalem for our weekly field study. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say traveled just over the hill. Our first stop was an outlook from Hebrew University on the Mt of Olives. You could see the whole of the City of David and the Temple Mount. I guess the City of David was slightly behind Temple Mount. 
However, that only reinforced the understanding of why the city was designed in such a way. The most significant, fortified, and in Israel’s case, powerful place (the Temple Mount) was directly located in the most vulnerable place: the northern corner, the entrance to the city of Jerusalem. The Temple Mount was doubly fortified. The presence of God also resided there making it full of power. The significance of this was that if an enemy came through they had to get through God first before they could get to the city. If the Temple was taken the rest of the city fell. Israel was not the only group to build their defenses that way. It really was the best place for a defense and other civilizations believed their god would protect them as well.
I am still trying to process everything I saw and did today. One of my favorite places cresting the hill of Mt. of Olives and seeing the drastic landscape change. It was absolutely amazing. Rolling hills full of green bushes and trees cut away into a sharp maze of desolate looking mounds, high and stark. A solid colored wall of misery: the Judean wilderness.
It looked like the most lonely, deserted place in the world. As we climbed the Herodian hill (Herodian = Herod "fun house") 
and looked out over the Judean wilderness it seemed to stretch for miles away in front of us. A line of strange looking hills spreading out along the horizon. You could see the exact place where the cultivatable land stopped and the wilderness began. The villages simply stopped: no barns, no houses, nothing. The closest thing I could compare it too would be the Bad Lands. And yet, these hills make the Bad Lands look tame. It’s not a gradually change from habitation to nothing, but an immediate, drastic, absolute cut. How do people survive in such a place? How did they survive thousands of years ago? The stories of David tending his flocks became starkly real. His statement in Psalm 23 about the Lord leading to green pastures makes you wonder, “Where?” Where in all the nothingness could there possibly be something green? My mom has a saying she likes to use, “Seeing green in brown world.” The meaning is that even when things seem hopeless and lost, desolate and deserted (a brown world), look for the green (Hope). I guess even David knew where his hope lay (and what color it was)!
Yet, in spite of how frightening these hills look God took people out there to meet with him. He used these hills as a place to show himself to people, his power, grace and goodness. It’s amazing to me to walk these places and realize what an impact geography had on the lives of biblical people. It brings them to life, their stories, their songs, their losses and triumphs. It makes me wonder how geography impacts my life, if it carries the same weight for me as it did for David, Jesus, Isaiah, Ruth and Naomi, Joseph, Moses, Joshua. There are worlds within worlds of understanding the Bible. I am realizing that geography is one of the most important. It helps open all the other worlds up. In my required freshman Bible course we were taught that in order to understand scripture we need to understand the author’s original intent. I would also argue that to understand the author’s intent, we need to understand the physical landscape of where they were coming from. The historical is also important, but the geography influences the history on every level. I guess that’s perhaps more than just first impressions, but these are the thoughts that come to me as I process what I’m seeing throughout the day. I just keep being amazed and loving every second!
That's not the whole weekend, but Sunday's story will have to wait till later. Love you all
Shalom,
Caitlin
However, that only reinforced the understanding of why the city was designed in such a way. The most significant, fortified, and in Israel’s case, powerful place (the Temple Mount) was directly located in the most vulnerable place: the northern corner, the entrance to the city of Jerusalem. The Temple Mount was doubly fortified. The presence of God also resided there making it full of power. The significance of this was that if an enemy came through they had to get through God first before they could get to the city. If the Temple was taken the rest of the city fell. Israel was not the only group to build their defenses that way. It really was the best place for a defense and other civilizations believed their god would protect them as well.I am still trying to process everything I saw and did today. One of my favorite places cresting the hill of Mt. of Olives and seeing the drastic landscape change. It was absolutely amazing. Rolling hills full of green bushes and trees cut away into a sharp maze of desolate looking mounds, high and stark. A solid colored wall of misery: the Judean wilderness.
It looked like the most lonely, deserted place in the world. As we climbed the Herodian hill (Herodian = Herod "fun house") 
and looked out over the Judean wilderness it seemed to stretch for miles away in front of us. A line of strange looking hills spreading out along the horizon. You could see the exact place where the cultivatable land stopped and the wilderness began. The villages simply stopped: no barns, no houses, nothing. The closest thing I could compare it too would be the Bad Lands. And yet, these hills make the Bad Lands look tame. It’s not a gradually change from habitation to nothing, but an immediate, drastic, absolute cut. How do people survive in such a place? How did they survive thousands of years ago? The stories of David tending his flocks became starkly real. His statement in Psalm 23 about the Lord leading to green pastures makes you wonder, “Where?” Where in all the nothingness could there possibly be something green? My mom has a saying she likes to use, “Seeing green in brown world.” The meaning is that even when things seem hopeless and lost, desolate and deserted (a brown world), look for the green (Hope). I guess even David knew where his hope lay (and what color it was)! Yet, in spite of how frightening these hills look God took people out there to meet with him. He used these hills as a place to show himself to people, his power, grace and goodness. It’s amazing to me to walk these places and realize what an impact geography had on the lives of biblical people. It brings them to life, their stories, their songs, their losses and triumphs. It makes me wonder how geography impacts my life, if it carries the same weight for me as it did for David, Jesus, Isaiah, Ruth and Naomi, Joseph, Moses, Joshua. There are worlds within worlds of understanding the Bible. I am realizing that geography is one of the most important. It helps open all the other worlds up. In my required freshman Bible course we were taught that in order to understand scripture we need to understand the author’s original intent. I would also argue that to understand the author’s intent, we need to understand the physical landscape of where they were coming from. The historical is also important, but the geography influences the history on every level. I guess that’s perhaps more than just first impressions, but these are the thoughts that come to me as I process what I’m seeing throughout the day. I just keep being amazed and loving every second!
That's not the whole weekend, but Sunday's story will have to wait till later. Love you all
Shalom,
Caitlin
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
the Hills
Dear Family and Friends,
It has been an intense couple days. Ok, maybe not that intense for all of them. HOmework load hasn't been bad so far and I've been out and about quite a bit...not to mention I love what I am learning :) It was a rather eventful last couple days however. Let me tell you....
Friday afternoon a large group of us enjoyed a lovely hot sweaty exahusting game of Ultimate frisbee. It was so much fun and at times rather strange as the park workers kept coming over and watching us. There was also an older Israelie man sitting on a park bench right by where we were playing, we ran past him and kept throwing the frisbee into the tree above his head (on accident of course), but I don't think he once looked up from his paper. And he was there the entire 2 hours we were! It was rather entertaining. I have to admit though, my body is just now recovering from that game.
Saturday night was Israelie Idol! They performed just down the hill from school. We all sat along the wall with some Israelie fans and enjoyed the concert, even though we couldn't understand a word of the Hebrew :) We have all been singing the tunes this weekend much to the annoyment of my wonderful roomate. It's quite entertaining. (She is secretly bitter because her favorite didn't win, haha!) We were of couse up late and that made for an early next morning.
Sunday was a hard day physically and mentally in some ways also. Fascinating, enlightening, but hard and exhausting. We were up early, left campus at 7 and headed down towards the city. Notice the “going down” part. I sure did and notice more and more as I get to know Jerusalem better. The rest of the day I was constantly reminded of it. We descended, we climbed, we went up and then down and then up again. This psalm was one we read while standing overlooking the City of David.
Psalms 121:1-8
I will lift up my eyes to the hills; from whence shall my help come? My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth. He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber nor sleep. The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is the shade on your right hand. The sun will not smite you by day nor the moon by night. The Lord will protect you from all evil; He will keep your soul. The Lord will guard your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forever.
The sky was bright, the sun already causing backs to sweat, and all around us the hills rose. Not towering, but enough to block the view. I felt two very distinct, but different feelings. The first was one of protection. Surrounded, enclosed, fortified are all words that came to mind. It really was a great spot to build a community, with water close by, although still quite a hike up or down the slippery hill. Something very noticeable when you have you climb up it or even scramble down it on a paved streets. I wonder if the people still huffed and puffed after climbing it regularly. I can’t imagine they wouldn’t. I can see the younger children and adults hurrying up it and still breathing hard after reaching the top. The second feeling I had while standing on the lookout point over David’s City and the Kidron Valley gazing around at the Mt. of Olives, the Temple Mt. and the Watershed Ridge was one of entrapment, claustrophobia. You aren’t low enough to have to look up at the hills, but you aren’t high enough to see over. You are stuck somewhere in the middle. As I thought about this throughout the day I considered something else. It was triggered by Psalm 125:1-2 where the Lord is described like the mountains surrounding Jerusalem, doing the same for his people. In one way it’s reassuring. However, in another it’s very intimidating. While your standing in the middle it feels like there is no where to go, no outlet from those hills for even the valley’s are rising as time goes on. There is no way out. In the same way, there is no way to escape from the Lord. You can’t hide from him. He is “higher” than you. Just as anyone standing on the top of one of those surrounding hills can look down and see everything, the Lord can look down and see Israel, every activity, glorifying to him or not. You cannot escape the consequences any more than you can escape the protection. It seemed to me that the hills literally represented a dual purpose. Physically, they provided protection from enemies from all directions but the North which was carefully fortified. However, if the walls there fell, it was over. In a similar way, the Lord protected and provided while Israel was faithful and obedient, but when they failed, or more correctly chose to ignore God’s warnings, they were trapped in a place where his judgment would reach down and find them. You could try to run out of the hills, but after hiking up them I know it’s not so easy to do. It’s even harder to run from God. So I was struck by the hills of Jerusalem in several ways: the geographical sense, the closeness and steepness of the slopes; the literal sense, in how the hills were described by the Psalmists and other writers; and for my own personal spiritual sense through both of those that the Lord is the only way, the only reason, a place like this works. Without him, there is no protection, no crop, no hope. It all becomes a desolate wasteland without his provision. I think I will be even more aware of this as I am exposed to the more desolate area’s of Israel so close to the hills of Jerusalem.
A few more things. It's hard to describe the geography. Even the pictures don't quite capture the feeling of being here. It looks beautiful, with nice rolling hills and valley's, but as i've Mentioned before, everything is much more compact than it looks. The Hardest part of the day was the climb from the Pool of Siloam at the bottom of the City of David back up to school. A 45 degree angle the whole way. Pictures don't even do it justice. The hill is torture to climb. My professor told us of a man who, before the little tractor's with trailers on them they use now, would carry refridgerators up that hill on his back....by himself! I barely made it with my two pound back pack on! It's amazing how life works here. And knowing the hills and such it's amazing how it worked 2000, 4000, 6000 years ago. Back then the valley's were deeper and the hills higher. They have filled in and worn down some due to the consistent occupation. It's amazing to stand on the high places and overlook the various areas of the city. It's strange to stand in the lowest point of the Valleys and smell the garbage that still flows down the hill, just as it did thousands of years ago. No breeze down there, just the sun reflecting of the whites stone houses and paved streets.
There's always more to write, but only so much you can process at a time, so for now,
Shalom.
It has been an intense couple days. Ok, maybe not that intense for all of them. HOmework load hasn't been bad so far and I've been out and about quite a bit...not to mention I love what I am learning :) It was a rather eventful last couple days however. Let me tell you....
Friday afternoon a large group of us enjoyed a lovely hot sweaty exahusting game of Ultimate frisbee. It was so much fun and at times rather strange as the park workers kept coming over and watching us. There was also an older Israelie man sitting on a park bench right by where we were playing, we ran past him and kept throwing the frisbee into the tree above his head (on accident of course), but I don't think he once looked up from his paper. And he was there the entire 2 hours we were! It was rather entertaining. I have to admit though, my body is just now recovering from that game.
Saturday night was Israelie Idol! They performed just down the hill from school. We all sat along the wall with some Israelie fans and enjoyed the concert, even though we couldn't understand a word of the Hebrew :) We have all been singing the tunes this weekend much to the annoyment of my wonderful roomate. It's quite entertaining. (She is secretly bitter because her favorite didn't win, haha!) We were of couse up late and that made for an early next morning.
Sunday was a hard day physically and mentally in some ways also. Fascinating, enlightening, but hard and exhausting. We were up early, left campus at 7 and headed down towards the city. Notice the “going down” part. I sure did and notice more and more as I get to know Jerusalem better. The rest of the day I was constantly reminded of it. We descended, we climbed, we went up and then down and then up again. This psalm was one we read while standing overlooking the City of David.
Psalms 121:1-8
I will lift up my eyes to the hills; from whence shall my help come? My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth. He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber nor sleep. The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is the shade on your right hand. The sun will not smite you by day nor the moon by night. The Lord will protect you from all evil; He will keep your soul. The Lord will guard your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forever.
The sky was bright, the sun already causing backs to sweat, and all around us the hills rose. Not towering, but enough to block the view. I felt two very distinct, but different feelings. The first was one of protection. Surrounded, enclosed, fortified are all words that came to mind. It really was a great spot to build a community, with water close by, although still quite a hike up or down the slippery hill. Something very noticeable when you have you climb up it or even scramble down it on a paved streets. I wonder if the people still huffed and puffed after climbing it regularly. I can’t imagine they wouldn’t. I can see the younger children and adults hurrying up it and still breathing hard after reaching the top. The second feeling I had while standing on the lookout point over David’s City and the Kidron Valley gazing around at the Mt. of Olives, the Temple Mt. and the Watershed Ridge was one of entrapment, claustrophobia. You aren’t low enough to have to look up at the hills, but you aren’t high enough to see over. You are stuck somewhere in the middle. As I thought about this throughout the day I considered something else. It was triggered by Psalm 125:1-2 where the Lord is described like the mountains surrounding Jerusalem, doing the same for his people. In one way it’s reassuring. However, in another it’s very intimidating. While your standing in the middle it feels like there is no where to go, no outlet from those hills for even the valley’s are rising as time goes on. There is no way out. In the same way, there is no way to escape from the Lord. You can’t hide from him. He is “higher” than you. Just as anyone standing on the top of one of those surrounding hills can look down and see everything, the Lord can look down and see Israel, every activity, glorifying to him or not. You cannot escape the consequences any more than you can escape the protection. It seemed to me that the hills literally represented a dual purpose. Physically, they provided protection from enemies from all directions but the North which was carefully fortified. However, if the walls there fell, it was over. In a similar way, the Lord protected and provided while Israel was faithful and obedient, but when they failed, or more correctly chose to ignore God’s warnings, they were trapped in a place where his judgment would reach down and find them. You could try to run out of the hills, but after hiking up them I know it’s not so easy to do. It’s even harder to run from God. So I was struck by the hills of Jerusalem in several ways: the geographical sense, the closeness and steepness of the slopes; the literal sense, in how the hills were described by the Psalmists and other writers; and for my own personal spiritual sense through both of those that the Lord is the only way, the only reason, a place like this works. Without him, there is no protection, no crop, no hope. It all becomes a desolate wasteland without his provision. I think I will be even more aware of this as I am exposed to the more desolate area’s of Israel so close to the hills of Jerusalem.
A few more things. It's hard to describe the geography. Even the pictures don't quite capture the feeling of being here. It looks beautiful, with nice rolling hills and valley's, but as i've Mentioned before, everything is much more compact than it looks. The Hardest part of the day was the climb from the Pool of Siloam at the bottom of the City of David back up to school. A 45 degree angle the whole way. Pictures don't even do it justice. The hill is torture to climb. My professor told us of a man who, before the little tractor's with trailers on them they use now, would carry refridgerators up that hill on his back....by himself! I barely made it with my two pound back pack on! It's amazing how life works here. And knowing the hills and such it's amazing how it worked 2000, 4000, 6000 years ago. Back then the valley's were deeper and the hills higher. They have filled in and worn down some due to the consistent occupation. It's amazing to stand on the high places and overlook the various areas of the city. It's strange to stand in the lowest point of the Valleys and smell the garbage that still flows down the hill, just as it did thousands of years ago. No breeze down there, just the sun reflecting of the whites stone houses and paved streets.
There's always more to write, but only so much you can process at a time, so for now,
Shalom.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The WOW factor
Dear Family and Friends,
Today I had quite an experience. Not having a class until 3pm I and some new friends decided to attempt an entrance into the Temple Mount. I have to admitt I was a bit nervous. The first adventure came as we were trying to find it. Although we had been there before for one of our orientation tours, the streets are small and full of shops that all look the same. Plus we had to wander through several quarters until we could see the golden dome of the Dome of the Rock.
Sidenote: If you look at a map of the Old City (you can probably google it) it is split into 4 unequal quarters: Muslim, the largest quarter (which is where the Dome of the Rock sits on what was once the Temple Mount, just on the edge of Muslim and Jewish quarters), Christian, Armenian, and Jewish, the smallest section. I may have mentioned this in my previous blog but just in case I didn't I didn't want you all to be confused.
After some wandering we found our spot. The next adventure was how to get in. The Muslims allow non-muslims through only one entrance. You can exit anywhere but you can only go in one way, and you are not allowed in during prayer times. This of course put a bit of a time constraint on us. We had to be in and out before 10:30am when the 2nd call to prayer came. We saw the ramp our prof. had told us about that was our entrance. However, we couldn't find the gate up the ramp. In our attempt to locate it we wandered, read a few signs and finally found ourselves walking throught security into the area of the Western wall or Wailing wall.
The Picture (hopefully on the right) is of the wall, split into male and female sections. Notice the men's side is much larger (there were also separate security gates for us to go through). It was rather interesting. Amy (the other girl in the group) wanted to go touch the wall, but since it looked rather full we decided to come back another day. We wandered around the area looking for an entrance to the Dome of the Rock, but finding none decided to go out and try again. So we exited, walked back around the entire area to the gate we had come in at and realized the entrance we wanted was the third gate area by the security we went through before. This time we managed to get up the ramp. It was strange walking up a ramp that went right over a Jewish holy area and into a Muslim holy area. As we exited the wooden ramp into the couryard/park of the Dome of the Rock the guys with us were told they needed longer pants and couldn't go in with their shorts on. They felt silly that they had forgotten that fact. But instead of making us leave they waited graciously at the exit while Amy and I ran up the steps to the open area where the Dome of the Rock sits. I have to tell you, it is an impressive site from outside the courtyard.
But from inside.....it was amazing! It felt strange standing there, like we were maybe someplace we shouldn't be. The sun reflecting of the golden dome and white stones that paved the upper courtyard made everything brilliant it was hard to keep your eyes open. The blue tiles covering the Mosque looked beautiful against a blue sky. I can't tell you how strange and awsome it felt to be standing there. But it wasnt' just the beauty of the building and the surronding area. It was even cooler to stand gazing around imagining what it might have looked like when Solomon's temple stood there. The size of the place had to have been spectacular! It still is. Amy and I went as quickly as we could in all our excitment walking around the Mosque, and snapping a few quick pictures before we headed back out. I am posting a few to give you an idea, but they just don't quite justify standing there. I can tell you though that I am definitly going back up there!
Today I had quite an experience. Not having a class until 3pm I and some new friends decided to attempt an entrance into the Temple Mount. I have to admitt I was a bit nervous. The first adventure came as we were trying to find it. Although we had been there before for one of our orientation tours, the streets are small and full of shops that all look the same. Plus we had to wander through several quarters until we could see the golden dome of the Dome of the Rock.
Sidenote: If you look at a map of the Old City (you can probably google it) it is split into 4 unequal quarters: Muslim, the largest quarter (which is where the Dome of the Rock sits on what was once the Temple Mount, just on the edge of Muslim and Jewish quarters), Christian, Armenian, and Jewish, the smallest section. I may have mentioned this in my previous blog but just in case I didn't I didn't want you all to be confused.
After some wandering we found our spot. The next adventure was how to get in. The Muslims allow non-muslims through only one entrance. You can exit anywhere but you can only go in one way, and you are not allowed in during prayer times. This of course put a bit of a time constraint on us. We had to be in and out before 10:30am when the 2nd call to prayer came. We saw the ramp our prof. had told us about that was our entrance. However, we couldn't find the gate up the ramp. In our attempt to locate it we wandered, read a few signs and finally found ourselves walking throught security into the area of the Western wall or Wailing wall.
The Picture (hopefully on the right) is of the wall, split into male and female sections. Notice the men's side is much larger (there were also separate security gates for us to go through). It was rather interesting. Amy (the other girl in the group) wanted to go touch the wall, but since it looked rather full we decided to come back another day. We wandered around the area looking for an entrance to the Dome of the Rock, but finding none decided to go out and try again. So we exited, walked back around the entire area to the gate we had come in at and realized the entrance we wanted was the third gate area by the security we went through before. This time we managed to get up the ramp. It was strange walking up a ramp that went right over a Jewish holy area and into a Muslim holy area. As we exited the wooden ramp into the couryard/park of the Dome of the Rock the guys with us were told they needed longer pants and couldn't go in with their shorts on. They felt silly that they had forgotten that fact. But instead of making us leave they waited graciously at the exit while Amy and I ran up the steps to the open area where the Dome of the Rock sits. I have to tell you, it is an impressive site from outside the courtyard.
But from inside.....it was amazing! It felt strange standing there, like we were maybe someplace we shouldn't be. The sun reflecting of the golden dome and white stones that paved the upper courtyard made everything brilliant it was hard to keep your eyes open. The blue tiles covering the Mosque looked beautiful against a blue sky. I can't tell you how strange and awsome it felt to be standing there. But it wasnt' just the beauty of the building and the surronding area. It was even cooler to stand gazing around imagining what it might have looked like when Solomon's temple stood there. The size of the place had to have been spectacular! It still is. Amy and I went as quickly as we could in all our excitment walking around the Mosque, and snapping a few quick pictures before we headed back out. I am posting a few to give you an idea, but they just don't quite justify standing there. I can tell you though that I am definitly going back up there! 
Monday, August 30, 2010
Welcome to Jerusalem
Blog/1st impressions
Dear Family and Friends
I have survived my first weekend in Israel. In fact, more than survived. I haven’t even started classes and I love it! Although I am nervous about a few of them I am very excited. The one I am most worried about is Archeology of Jerusalem. The reason being I have heard the prof. is very hard. There is only one test at the end and it’s the entire grade. And the test can be anything …. Anything he said, any topic, anything! Basically if he even mentions it…..it’s free game for the test. I have heard a story that one student got a 57 on their test and the prof. said, “Excellent”. Needless to say I am terrified! However, terribly excited as well. The other classes I am taking include History of Egypt, History of Ancient Israel, and Physical Settings (a geography course….it might sound boring but definitely is going to be anything but!)
In the last two days I have walked for 9 hours, at least! We had a photo scavenger hunt around the old city our first afternoon, then got an evening tour of the new city (which is really just the more expensive areas), then walked all around the old city this afternoon (a 5 hour tour). It really was fascinating and I can’t wait to have time to do some good wandering in the next few months. There are so many things to see….everywhere! Our prof. that gave the tour (Dr. Wright) gave us two very valuable tips for wandering Jerusalem: 1) get high, 2) drink a lot. Meaning get as high as possible to see the geography and understand how the city works into the landscape which after my brief experience today is wonderful advice! It’s amazing what you can learn the higher up on the hills you get. And second….drink a lot! Of water I’m very excited for the rest of our field trips to places like Jordan, Moab, Edom, the Dead Sea, Galilee, etc. We are pretty much going everywhere! I am particularly excited for our trip to Ashkelon. It will be fun to revisit where I worked at this summer.
One of our tasks for our Physical setting class is to record our first impressions of everyday we spend out in the field (out hiking and traveling through places). So in addition to informing you of my activities you will also be my homework ( which I will slightly edit and then turn in ). That way you get all the details and constant updates. I will also try to include some pictures, but internet is slow tonight so ….. no pictures this time. And I only took about two, but I will get them up hopefully soon, no fear!
First Impressions
Although this is not my first time in Jerusalem it is only my third day. Many places we visited I recognized from my previous visit, some I didn’t. But there were so many details I failed to notice before. First is the compact size of Jerusalem. If you look on a map, the city looks enormous, even the Old City. There are the four quarters: Jewish, being the smallest and growing in size through the Armenian and Christian sections with the Muslim section being the largest. On the map it looks like it would take hours to get anywhere, yet you can walk from one section to another in a matter of minutes. That is, if you don’t get lost in the maze of streets and vendors. Then it might take you hours. The amount of people squeezed into these tight areas can be overwhelming as well: vendors trying to entice you in, herds of tourists in matching hats, the children of store owners running errands up and down the streets.
However, my attention was drawn to something new today. If you pay close attention and look around you, there seems to be this underlying energy, almost a vibration. It’s not something you can physically feel, but a sense you get when you start catching details, when you start to notice walls and streets, stones, windows and doors. When you look you realize that these buildings and walkways are layered upon older buildings and walkways, houses built on houses, shops built over ancient shops. It’s incredible to stand in a street and it be the same street that existed a hundred or a thousand years into the past. Life existing on history that exists on top of more history. What I found fascinating was not just how much history is still being used and lived (streets, buildings, clothing style), but the effort Israel puts into preserving the history they have. For example, at Zion gate there are bullet holes covering the walls. Although the wall was recently restored, Israel made sure that the bullet holes remained to remind them of the event that caused those holes. To preserve that part of their country’s heritage, their story. Even more amazing to me realizing part of the reason these groups fight so hard to keep their land. The land is part of the heritage of the people. It was passed down from generation to generation, and in their minds must continue to do so if the future generations are going to have a heritage. I may be overstating, understating, or missing the point completely, but it was something that stood out to me. It is also tradition. Tradition is what makes up so much of the daily life here. From the Muslim to Christian to Jewish quarters, the calls to prayer, holidays, festivals, everything from Shabbat to Ramadan to wearing head coverings and prayer shawls. It all comes from tradition. It is engrained into them. Not only does it dictate who these people are as groups and cultures, but also as individuals. It defines them, gives them a place to belong. Some of these traditions, such as certain holy places each group has, come from nothing more than a thought of, “maybe here.” And yet, it’s been so for generations up generations. Whether it is actually true or not doesn’t matter. It is a part of them, their lives, their cultures.
In addition to all this heritage these groups have is their heritage together. You can’t have the story of one without the other showing up. And the land? Well it’s been owned by all of them and one point or another. Just one more reason for all the fights.
As a side thought, I think this is something Americans have lost: the sense of community, the importance of cultural traditions. Although our traditions don’t have the roots that exist here, we still fight so hard to be unique and independent that I think we lose sight of the beauty of who we are as a whole and where we came from. In some whys we are no different from these four main groups: Jewish, Christian, Armenian, Muslim. We fight for space, control, power, the upper hand, as groups or cultures or individuals. Yet in some ways, it almost seems to me that Americans are worse of. We have forgotten how to remember, how to protect our past and make it part of our present and future. We destroy heritage for the sake of advancing. Maybe we would just stay stuck in the past, as these groups sometimes appear to be. Or maybe we would be stronger as we continued on to something new by remembering what and who came before.
Just a few thoughts from my first days in Israel. I love you all and miss you very much and wish you could be here with to share everything I'm learning, even though some of you might find it more interesting than others. That's it for now....or all I have time or room to type.
Cait
Dear Family and Friends
I have survived my first weekend in Israel. In fact, more than survived. I haven’t even started classes and I love it! Although I am nervous about a few of them I am very excited. The one I am most worried about is Archeology of Jerusalem. The reason being I have heard the prof. is very hard. There is only one test at the end and it’s the entire grade. And the test can be anything …. Anything he said, any topic, anything! Basically if he even mentions it…..it’s free game for the test. I have heard a story that one student got a 57 on their test and the prof. said, “Excellent”. Needless to say I am terrified! However, terribly excited as well. The other classes I am taking include History of Egypt, History of Ancient Israel, and Physical Settings (a geography course….it might sound boring but definitely is going to be anything but!)
In the last two days I have walked for 9 hours, at least! We had a photo scavenger hunt around the old city our first afternoon, then got an evening tour of the new city (which is really just the more expensive areas), then walked all around the old city this afternoon (a 5 hour tour). It really was fascinating and I can’t wait to have time to do some good wandering in the next few months. There are so many things to see….everywhere! Our prof. that gave the tour (Dr. Wright) gave us two very valuable tips for wandering Jerusalem: 1) get high, 2) drink a lot. Meaning get as high as possible to see the geography and understand how the city works into the landscape which after my brief experience today is wonderful advice! It’s amazing what you can learn the higher up on the hills you get. And second….drink a lot! Of water I’m very excited for the rest of our field trips to places like Jordan, Moab, Edom, the Dead Sea, Galilee, etc. We are pretty much going everywhere! I am particularly excited for our trip to Ashkelon. It will be fun to revisit where I worked at this summer.
One of our tasks for our Physical setting class is to record our first impressions of everyday we spend out in the field (out hiking and traveling through places). So in addition to informing you of my activities you will also be my homework ( which I will slightly edit and then turn in ). That way you get all the details and constant updates. I will also try to include some pictures, but internet is slow tonight so ….. no pictures this time. And I only took about two, but I will get them up hopefully soon, no fear!
First Impressions
Although this is not my first time in Jerusalem it is only my third day. Many places we visited I recognized from my previous visit, some I didn’t. But there were so many details I failed to notice before. First is the compact size of Jerusalem. If you look on a map, the city looks enormous, even the Old City. There are the four quarters: Jewish, being the smallest and growing in size through the Armenian and Christian sections with the Muslim section being the largest. On the map it looks like it would take hours to get anywhere, yet you can walk from one section to another in a matter of minutes. That is, if you don’t get lost in the maze of streets and vendors. Then it might take you hours. The amount of people squeezed into these tight areas can be overwhelming as well: vendors trying to entice you in, herds of tourists in matching hats, the children of store owners running errands up and down the streets.
However, my attention was drawn to something new today. If you pay close attention and look around you, there seems to be this underlying energy, almost a vibration. It’s not something you can physically feel, but a sense you get when you start catching details, when you start to notice walls and streets, stones, windows and doors. When you look you realize that these buildings and walkways are layered upon older buildings and walkways, houses built on houses, shops built over ancient shops. It’s incredible to stand in a street and it be the same street that existed a hundred or a thousand years into the past. Life existing on history that exists on top of more history. What I found fascinating was not just how much history is still being used and lived (streets, buildings, clothing style), but the effort Israel puts into preserving the history they have. For example, at Zion gate there are bullet holes covering the walls. Although the wall was recently restored, Israel made sure that the bullet holes remained to remind them of the event that caused those holes. To preserve that part of their country’s heritage, their story. Even more amazing to me realizing part of the reason these groups fight so hard to keep their land. The land is part of the heritage of the people. It was passed down from generation to generation, and in their minds must continue to do so if the future generations are going to have a heritage. I may be overstating, understating, or missing the point completely, but it was something that stood out to me. It is also tradition. Tradition is what makes up so much of the daily life here. From the Muslim to Christian to Jewish quarters, the calls to prayer, holidays, festivals, everything from Shabbat to Ramadan to wearing head coverings and prayer shawls. It all comes from tradition. It is engrained into them. Not only does it dictate who these people are as groups and cultures, but also as individuals. It defines them, gives them a place to belong. Some of these traditions, such as certain holy places each group has, come from nothing more than a thought of, “maybe here.” And yet, it’s been so for generations up generations. Whether it is actually true or not doesn’t matter. It is a part of them, their lives, their cultures.
In addition to all this heritage these groups have is their heritage together. You can’t have the story of one without the other showing up. And the land? Well it’s been owned by all of them and one point or another. Just one more reason for all the fights.
As a side thought, I think this is something Americans have lost: the sense of community, the importance of cultural traditions. Although our traditions don’t have the roots that exist here, we still fight so hard to be unique and independent that I think we lose sight of the beauty of who we are as a whole and where we came from. In some whys we are no different from these four main groups: Jewish, Christian, Armenian, Muslim. We fight for space, control, power, the upper hand, as groups or cultures or individuals. Yet in some ways, it almost seems to me that Americans are worse of. We have forgotten how to remember, how to protect our past and make it part of our present and future. We destroy heritage for the sake of advancing. Maybe we would just stay stuck in the past, as these groups sometimes appear to be. Or maybe we would be stronger as we continued on to something new by remembering what and who came before.
Just a few thoughts from my first days in Israel. I love you all and miss you very much and wish you could be here with to share everything I'm learning, even though some of you might find it more interesting than others. That's it for now....or all I have time or room to type.
Cait
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