It's unclear who wrote the hymn, "Jerusalem, my happy home." Some say it's a 16th century adaptation of St. Augustine, others attribute the text to an 18th century English hymnwriter, Joseph Bromehead. For the purposes of this blog post it doesn't matter. The hymn, of course, is a poem about the heavenly Jerusalem, not the earthly one, but I can't get that first stanza out of my head, as I look outside the window of my own home on this beautiful and frigid Boston morning.
Jerusalem, my happy home,
When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end?
Thy joys when shall I see?
It is good to be home. To be home to what is familiar and loving, to a happy dog (who is still alive and shows absolutely no signs of terminal cancer), to a wonderful partner, lover, and friend, to a parish church where I am unceasingly blessed to serve with young and old alike, with colleagues and parishioners who are passionate about the Gospel, our discipleship with Christ, and our desire to proclaim good news to the world. It is indeed good to be home.
But Jerusalem is also home, and ever shall be. Not the heavenly one from the hymn echoing in my heart, but the one on top of those Judean hills. The city that so many call holy. Some scholars call this ailment of mine, Jerusalem Fever, a yearning for and a seemingly unquenchable interest in Jerusalem.
In the end I don't really have to make sense of this pilgrimage now past. Nobody expects that of me, least of all, I think, God's own self. What I think is necessary, and absolutely my call, is to savor all the sacred moments and places of that Holy Land, and to live now, here in Winchester in 2013, as if every place is as holy and powerful as the Jerusalem of Israel-Palestine. Even more, to pray about the possibility that in some mysterious and awesome way, Jerusalem (the city) is a kind of harbinger, or even an image, of the ultimate Jerusalem, the place where milk and honey flow.
26 January 2013
24 January 2013
The Way of the Cross
The Muslim muezzin chanting from the minaret next door to the hotel was the first sound which signaled to me that I was not in the United States. The chanting is a kind of wake-up call each day, beginning at 5:00am. This morning it awoke me, as usual, but it has become, just in a few days, both familiar and inviting.
Iyad, our guide, met us in the lobby at 5:45, gave us a few instructions about the Way of the Cross, and off we walked, in silence, taking turns carrying a wooden cross. We walked past the shops in East Jerusalem, our neighborhood, and into the Old City through Herod’s gate. Even at that hour the city was awake with merchants opening up their shops, gas burners tended by early-risers making coffee.
The first station, “Jesus is Judged” is a head-on collision with God’s capacity to reverse the order of things. Whatever we hold closely--power, security, wealth, status--they’re replaced with a crown of thorns. Whatever gives us meaning in life, on the outside, is turned on its head. This is the place where it begins, this first station, as God’s son wears a crown of thorns.
We took turns not only carrying the cross, but also reading the scripture for each station, and leading in the prayers. Sometimes we sang “Were you there?” between each station. Our Way ended in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, in the Empty Tomb, and then we made our way to a group of Polish pilgrims standing around as the Franciscan priest led Mass. Most of us slipped in behind them to receive the very essence of who Christ, poured out in the flesh of bread and the cup of salvation.
We leave now, at 9:00am, to Emmaus where we’ll celebrate our own Eucharist. Then to Jericho for a party at Iyad and Simone’s house. We’ll be back in Jerusalem this afternoon. Pray for us.
23 January 2013
A Journey of Contrasts
The following post is from Gayle Pershouse, one of the Holy Land pilgrims, and a member of the Parish of the Epiphany.
This is a journey of contrasts: Yesterday, on top of Mt.
Tabor, my winter coat felt thin against the wind; by the afternoon I was
basking in the sun in my bathing suit and swimming in the Dead Sea, then eating
ice cream on the deck. As we go back and forth through “checkpoints” from
Israeli to Palestinian areas and back again, we meet the contrasts of the land:
lush and fertile/stony and arid; and the economy: thriving and modern/struggling,
poor, “third world” in feeling.
Religiously, a pilgrimage is an experience of contrasts as well.
Sometimes we encounter strange customs, sometimes funny moments, and then,
unexpectedly, the ineffable will take us by surprise. For me, yesterday one
bizarre moment was looking at the caves where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found
in a starkly barren desert place and listening to Iyod say that this is the
place where the controversial Bishop Pike walked out into the desert and never
came back.
Are we getting close to the saturation point on beautiful
old churches dedicated to an important moment in Jesus’ life? A humorous moment
came when, visiting the site of Jacob’s well, Iyod told us to stay close
together because one of the vendors has a tendency to “hug the women much too
long.” Most of us didn’t think we were in the age category to get such a “hug”
but we stayed together as told. Then, at this same place, as we read the story
of Jesus asking the Samaritan woman for a drink, drew water from the ancient
stone well by lowering a bucket way
down on a long rope, and tasted the water ourselves, the ineffable presence of
Jesus was suddenly manifest to one of us in a very real way. Jesus was speaking
to her personally about her husband.
The next site was an inexplicable contrast for me: an
ancient ruin of a church in which ritual animal sacrifice is still practiced. St.
Helena, the mother of the Emperor Constantine, built this church in the fourth
century. It is dedicated to St. George. The stone steps were saturated with the
blood of sacrificed animals and the door jams were marked in blood with many
crosses.
This town, Taybeh, gave us an even starker contrast: animal
sacrifice in Christian ruins overlooking the “wilderness” contrasted with a
visit to a modern micro-brewery making very good Palestinian beer!
“So what?” Is the question I ask myself. So, why come to the
Holy Land when I can just as well meet Jesus in my own kitchen? (as my friend
asked me before I left.) Each of us forms a different answer to this question.
Maybe there are several answers for each of us, and maybe we will find more
answers in the weeks and months after we come home. One answer is so obvious
but so subtle for us we might miss it: as a little band of pilgrims seeking
traces of our Lord, we become a brand
new, unique expression of the Christ we are seeking. We are the Body of Christ here in a land that is much in need of
peace and healing. Maybe that is reason enough.
21 January 2013
Wade in the Water, Children...
The following post is from Marie Lee, a member of the Parish of the Epiphany.
A crisp, perfectly clear morning in Nazareth, still shuttered as we headed north through Cana on our way to the River Jordan. Nazareth is perched at 1500 feet, so it is downhill all the way to get there. We pulled into a small park near the point where the river enters Lake Tiberias, which Matthew refers to as the Sea of Galilee. The river is only about 25 feet wide at this point. Due to the recent heavy rainfall, the ground was quite muddy and the river was wider and faster than usual. Iyad had prepared a bunch of small olive branches, which Bishop Gayle dipped into the river to bless each of us as we renewed our baptismal vows, and then anointed us with oil. Noah Evans, Rector of Grace Church in Medford then bent over the river, slipped a small plastic bag from his pocket, prayerfully releasing the ashes of a friend to the river.
Lake Tiberias, 600 ft below sea level, is surrounded by mountains: the Golan Heights to the north, and the very striking Horns of Hittin to the east, where Saladdin defeated the crusaders (see photo). Our boat ride across the lake aboard a replica of a wooden boat from the first century provided the perfect backdrop for the gospel reading -- Matthew 14 verse 22-36 (the disciples panicking when a storm came up on the lake, and Jesus appears to them.)
Following another amazing lunch (Tilapia the main course) we hiked in silence from the Mount of the Beatitudes down to a flat shady spot overlooking the lake for the celebration of the Eucharist, led by Thomas. A small block of white marble served as our altar. The gospel reading was the Beatitudes, from Matthew chap. 5. Sitting in a semi-circle, we shared meaningful moments from our day, and each served bread and wine to our neighbor.
As I've listened to the ancient stories -- so familiar and now envisioned anew in these holy places, I've never been more aware of the passing of time and of my fleeting presence. Sharing the Eucharist today, I was both a part of the timeless place before me as well as a member of the body of Christ.
A crisp, perfectly clear morning in Nazareth, still shuttered as we headed north through Cana on our way to the River Jordan. Nazareth is perched at 1500 feet, so it is downhill all the way to get there. We pulled into a small park near the point where the river enters Lake Tiberias, which Matthew refers to as the Sea of Galilee. The river is only about 25 feet wide at this point. Due to the recent heavy rainfall, the ground was quite muddy and the river was wider and faster than usual. Iyad had prepared a bunch of small olive branches, which Bishop Gayle dipped into the river to bless each of us as we renewed our baptismal vows, and then anointed us with oil. Noah Evans, Rector of Grace Church in Medford then bent over the river, slipped a small plastic bag from his pocket, prayerfully releasing the ashes of a friend to the river.
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| Lake Tiberias with Horns of Hittin in the background |
Lake Tiberias, 600 ft below sea level, is surrounded by mountains: the Golan Heights to the north, and the very striking Horns of Hittin to the east, where Saladdin defeated the crusaders (see photo). Our boat ride across the lake aboard a replica of a wooden boat from the first century provided the perfect backdrop for the gospel reading -- Matthew 14 verse 22-36 (the disciples panicking when a storm came up on the lake, and Jesus appears to them.)
Following another amazing lunch (Tilapia the main course) we hiked in silence from the Mount of the Beatitudes down to a flat shady spot overlooking the lake for the celebration of the Eucharist, led by Thomas. A small block of white marble served as our altar. The gospel reading was the Beatitudes, from Matthew chap. 5. Sitting in a semi-circle, we shared meaningful moments from our day, and each served bread and wine to our neighbor.
 |
| View from Eucharist site -- looking toward the Golan |
As I've listened to the ancient stories -- so familiar and now envisioned anew in these holy places, I've never been more aware of the passing of time and of my fleeting presence. Sharing the Eucharist today, I was both a part of the timeless place before me as well as a member of the body of Christ.
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| Poppies in the field on our hike down from the Mount of the Beatitudes to the clearing where we celebrated the Holy Eucharist. |
20 January 2013
St. Paul's Church, et cetera
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| St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Shefa-Amre, Israel. PHOTO: The Reverend Noah H. Evans |
Our destination, north and west of Nazareth, was the town of Shefa-Amre, in Israel proper, on the outskirts of Haifa, to St. Paul's Episcopal Church. The rector, Fuad Dagher, greeted us outside the church, and warmly welcomed us to Shefa-Amre and to St. Paul's.
He's quite the one-man band: delightful, passionate, entrepreneurial, and gifted. The liturgy was exceedingly familiar--adapted from their cathedral's customary, and the hymns--all well-known chestnuts--were accompanied on the Allen organ by Father Dagher himself. Presider, organist, and eucharistic minister! Bishop Harris preached, and Father Dagher translated it into Arabic for the several members of his parish.
After the liturgy we were welcomed again during the coffee hour. A young boy was having his birthday, and there was singing and, of course, cake. In typical Palestinian fashion the hospitality was lavish and unending.
Behind the parish hall is a newly restored 200 year old house which is used for the entire community (not just their parish) for concerts, art exhibits, and assemblies. It's absolutely gorgeous, and could (should!) win an award for historic preservation. With thanks to the Diocese of Los Angeles, who gave them the money to buy the property, and with the sweat equity of the whole town (Christians and Muslims and Jews worked together to rebuild it) the community has a place to gather, and something for which they're all very proud.
We didn't need any more food, but there it was...a feast at a local restaurant, the best in the town, which opened on this Sunday just to serve us. As Bishop Harris said, "when Jesus likened the kingdom of God to a banquet, THIS is what he meant."
A happy and holy Sunday to you all.
19 January 2013
Judean desert, Jericho, and Nazareth
A very early morning. We left Jerusalem at 7:15 and made our way east toward the Jordan, about an hour's drive north and east. We disembarked in the middle of nowhere overlooking the Wadi Quelt, the usually dried-up river bed that served as the north-south road where people once dwelt in the canyons and caves of the mountainous desert. It was easy to imagine Jesus telling the parable of the Good Samaritan because before our eyes, as Joan read that parable, we could see it unfolding...it was that real.
From there we traveled east to Jericho, which is 10,000 years old! Incomprehensible to consider that fact, given its current size and modernity. A cable car took us to the top of a mountain, the Mount of the Temptation, to an Orthodox monastery where one monk remains. Again, the pieces fell into place. How is this the spot where the temptation occurred? Of course we don't know for certain, but given that a community of believers has been dwelling in this cliff (think Navajo) since the first century, and that they've maintained a community for 2,000 years, it's pretty easy to say, "yup, this marks the spot."
Once we were back in Jericho we stopped by Zaccheus's tree, the sycamore tree, which he supposedly climbed to see Jesus passing through.
A longer trip north, and turning west into Israel itself, and then north for over an hour, we arrived in Nazareth. En route the scenery was central California...field after field of vegetation, produce, and beauty. Then, almost out of nowhere, the city of Nazareth appears in the distance. It's much bigger than its first century predecessor, which likely had 200 people dwelling in cut-out caves on the hillside. Today, more than 100,000 people live here, and it's exceedingly modern. Our accommodations, the Sisters of Nazareth Guesthouse and Chapel, are straight out of late 19th century, and as one of us said, "don't you feel like you're at the Isabella Stewart Gardner?" Yes, as a matter of fact.
Surrounding the convent, on every side, are churches. One is Anglican (part of the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem), and the other three are some versions of Roman, Orthodox, and Armenian. And though each is distinct from the other (stand alone) they're almost integrated, together with shops for locals and pilgrims alike, into a story book of Gabriel's Annunciation to Mary, the God-bearer.
We made it just in time to the "Synagogue Church" which of course never existed. It's a simple place dedicated to the time when the adolescent Jesus unrolled the scroll and read from the prophet Isaiah. We read the passage from St. Luke and sat quietly. Just steps away, as if it were some giant lighthouse, is the massive Basilica of the Annunciation, completed in 1969. Think modern ecclesiastical architecture taken to its zenith. Or, if you're not a fan, I guess you could say nadir. And yet, it retains several elements of its 5th century predecessor, including the apse, and even better, there is preserved right there in the middle of the church, the 1st century grotto where Gabriel announced to Mary that she would give birth to Jesus, the Messiah. We gave thanks for archeologists! Around the Basilica, so moving, are artistic representations of the Annunciation from every nation in the world (as the league of nations existed in 1968), most with mosaic, or ceramic tile, some with glass, but EACH conveys the essence of how Mary might be perceived or depicted in that particular culture/nation. "France's is SO French," said Pat Hitchcock (a pilgrim from the Parish of the Epiphany), and another pilgrim, Gayle Pershouse, said, "Look at Mexico's...it takes you there." I agree completely. Unfortunately our own country's rendition leaves something to be desired, even for me, one who adores 1960s-1970s "good" church architecture; I admitted to feeling a tad embarrassed to say it was from America. Another pilgrim, Don DeLollis, from Christ Church Andover, said, "Thomas, you'll just have to get over it!"
A few steps beyond the Basilica is an early 20th century Romanesque church (on the remains of an 11th century church) dedicated to St. Joseph. It's diminutive next to the Basilica, but it's no less embracing of his part, Joseph's, role in the story of salvation. First off, it's unpretentious and sturdy. There are three paintings in the apse: 1) the Holy Family, 2) The Dream of Joseph, and 3) the Death of Joseph in the Arms of Jesus and Mary. Don't miss these! A stairway descends to a crypt where caverns can be seen through a grille in the floor, yes, the very place where Joseph and Mary made their home.
Our supper was in a simple refectory with other pilgrims from around the world. A group of Italian priests, all collared-up (and cutting-up), a group of women and men from a French speaking island off Madgascar (Reunion, I think), and ourselves. After supper the 16 of us gathered in a circle in the convent chapel to say our prayers, and to say good-night.
Poor Nathaniel. Of course he said, "Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?" It's clear that very little existed here in the first century. Now, in 2013, it's a place one could spend a week, easily, and not scratch the surface of meaning, of history, or certainly, of beauty. Get here if you can. 2015 beckons!
From there we traveled east to Jericho, which is 10,000 years old! Incomprehensible to consider that fact, given its current size and modernity. A cable car took us to the top of a mountain, the Mount of the Temptation, to an Orthodox monastery where one monk remains. Again, the pieces fell into place. How is this the spot where the temptation occurred? Of course we don't know for certain, but given that a community of believers has been dwelling in this cliff (think Navajo) since the first century, and that they've maintained a community for 2,000 years, it's pretty easy to say, "yup, this marks the spot."
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| The sycamore tree in Jericho where Zacchaeus climbed to see Jesus pass through town. |
A longer trip north, and turning west into Israel itself, and then north for over an hour, we arrived in Nazareth. En route the scenery was central California...field after field of vegetation, produce, and beauty. Then, almost out of nowhere, the city of Nazareth appears in the distance. It's much bigger than its first century predecessor, which likely had 200 people dwelling in cut-out caves on the hillside. Today, more than 100,000 people live here, and it's exceedingly modern. Our accommodations, the Sisters of Nazareth Guesthouse and Chapel, are straight out of late 19th century, and as one of us said, "don't you feel like you're at the Isabella Stewart Gardner?" Yes, as a matter of fact.
Surrounding the convent, on every side, are churches. One is Anglican (part of the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem), and the other three are some versions of Roman, Orthodox, and Armenian. And though each is distinct from the other (stand alone) they're almost integrated, together with shops for locals and pilgrims alike, into a story book of Gabriel's Annunciation to Mary, the God-bearer.
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| Tradition holds that this is the hometown spot of our Lord's growing-up-Synagogue. |
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| The grotto in the Basilica, carved out from the nave's main floor, where the Angel Gabriel announced to Mary that she would give birth to Jesus, the Messiah. |
A few steps beyond the Basilica is an early 20th century Romanesque church (on the remains of an 11th century church) dedicated to St. Joseph. It's diminutive next to the Basilica, but it's no less embracing of his part, Joseph's, role in the story of salvation. First off, it's unpretentious and sturdy. There are three paintings in the apse: 1) the Holy Family, 2) The Dream of Joseph, and 3) the Death of Joseph in the Arms of Jesus and Mary. Don't miss these! A stairway descends to a crypt where caverns can be seen through a grille in the floor, yes, the very place where Joseph and Mary made their home.
Our supper was in a simple refectory with other pilgrims from around the world. A group of Italian priests, all collared-up (and cutting-up), a group of women and men from a French speaking island off Madgascar (Reunion, I think), and ourselves. After supper the 16 of us gathered in a circle in the convent chapel to say our prayers, and to say good-night.
Poor Nathaniel. Of course he said, "Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?" It's clear that very little existed here in the first century. Now, in 2013, it's a place one could spend a week, easily, and not scratch the surface of meaning, of history, or certainly, of beauty. Get here if you can. 2015 beckons!
18 January 2013
The Shepherds Field and Manger Square
An epic day! First, both Bishop Harris and I were on the bus. I'm fully recovered, she not quite, but almost. Thanks to Lester Hartmann, M.D.'s prescription of Tamiflu I really am flu-free. (We should talk about the miracle drug called Tamiflu...readily available to you. Take immediately, at first onset of flu symptoms, and it attacks the virus itself, thereby getting one well very soon.)
We began the day by taking the bus a short distance, but it took nearly 45 minutes, to Bethlehem; 4 miles away from our hotel. But, given Jerusalem traffic, and even more, the "security wall" which the Israeli government erected in the middle of the town, it's not especially easy to get to. In fact, it's arduous, and depressing. Bethlehem, at the turn of the 20th century was nearly 90% Christian/Palestinian. Now, not quite a century later it's less than 3% Christian. What happened to the Christians? They fled, emigrated to the United States, or other places where walls are not erected. Today, Bethlehem is a town of Palestinian Muslims whose economy is dependent upon the massive numbers of Christian pilgrims who make their way to Manger Square, the Church of the Nativity, and St. Catherine's Church. Their poverty is starkly obvious: the wall separates them, keeps them from their workplaces and their fields, and creates a kind of island in which they are trapped, save for those who are old enough or sick enough to get permits to leave and enter the state of Israel. Our first stop wasn't Manger Square, however, it was a grotto in what is known as the Shepherds Field, the place where tradition says the angel of the Lord appeared to the shepherds and announced the birth of our Lord.
It's utterly believable...even the most jaded cynic of Biblical and archeological scholarship would be hard-pressed not to see the strong likelihood that shepherds would have lived there, and that in that first century, directly in front of them, to the west, would have been another cave in which Jesus could well have been born. We sang Christmas carols in a chapel, descended stone steps into a cave, and prayed.
From there we had time to shop at a Palestinian Craft Cooperative (my colleagues lucked out on very cool gifts...and they ship to the US, besides!). Anybody need an olive wood creche set? We walked a few yards from the shop to a sit-down lunch at a local Palestinian-owned/run place, Ruth's Field Restaurant. Ruth, the owner, does all the cooking, along with her family. Outstanding food.
Then it was back onto the bus for the trip up the hill to Manger Square. Did you know that today is Christmas? Yes, that's right, 18 January is Christmas. At least it is for Armenian Christians. The place was decked out, oriental carpets were festooned on every floor surface, and there were workers busily preparing for tonight's festivities with the Patriarch. The church itself is impressive enough, but to get to the "manger" one descends a set of stone steps, again into a grotto, and there a silver star marks the spot. We venerated the spot, and then Iyad took us into a corner. Pat Hitchcock read the nativity story and we sang O Little Town of Bethlehem. And Christmas does indeed come once more.
We got back to the hotel in time to be with each other, to talk and to listen, and to reflect on what each of us has seen and felt the last couple of days. So important to do this, and so moving to hear my fellow pilgrims speak about what has been moving and good, as well as what's been hard and challenging. After supper we surprised Bishop Harris with a little party to celebrate her 10th anniversary of episcopacy. Cake and champagne and flowers. A perfect ending to a perfect day.
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| A sticker, one of many, stuck to the Palestinian side of the "security" wall |
It's utterly believable...even the most jaded cynic of Biblical and archeological scholarship would be hard-pressed not to see the strong likelihood that shepherds would have lived there, and that in that first century, directly in front of them, to the west, would have been another cave in which Jesus could well have been born. We sang Christmas carols in a chapel, descended stone steps into a cave, and prayed.
From there we had time to shop at a Palestinian Craft Cooperative (my colleagues lucked out on very cool gifts...and they ship to the US, besides!). Anybody need an olive wood creche set? We walked a few yards from the shop to a sit-down lunch at a local Palestinian-owned/run place, Ruth's Field Restaurant. Ruth, the owner, does all the cooking, along with her family. Outstanding food.
Then it was back onto the bus for the trip up the hill to Manger Square. Did you know that today is Christmas? Yes, that's right, 18 January is Christmas. At least it is for Armenian Christians. The place was decked out, oriental carpets were festooned on every floor surface, and there were workers busily preparing for tonight's festivities with the Patriarch. The church itself is impressive enough, but to get to the "manger" one descends a set of stone steps, again into a grotto, and there a silver star marks the spot. We venerated the spot, and then Iyad took us into a corner. Pat Hitchcock read the nativity story and we sang O Little Town of Bethlehem. And Christmas does indeed come once more.
We got back to the hotel in time to be with each other, to talk and to listen, and to reflect on what each of us has seen and felt the last couple of days. So important to do this, and so moving to hear my fellow pilgrims speak about what has been moving and good, as well as what's been hard and challenging. After supper we surprised Bishop Harris with a little party to celebrate her 10th anniversary of episcopacy. Cake and champagne and flowers. A perfect ending to a perfect day.
17 January 2013
A day in the old city
Today's post is from Gayle Pershouse, a pilgrim from the Parish of the Epiphany:
Today, Thursday, is our second day in the Holy Land. We started out early (7am) for a walking tour of Old Jerusalem beginning with the Western Wall. The Holy Spirit in the form of a white dove enchanted us by perching in a niche right above us while we prayed at the Wall. We moved from there to the Islamic side of the wall where we saw the Dome of the Rock and then on to the pools of Bethesda and St. Anne's Church. Here there is a custom that each group of pilgrims stands in the center of the nave in front of the altar and sings. Our impromptu performance is posted below for your enjoyment. We took coffee or tea in an arab coffee shop and enjoyed a peaceful and delicious lunch at the Lutheran Guest House. We were hungry: I estimate we walked at least 6 miles in and through the narrow winding streets, including the Cardo, a souk filled with every kind of beautiful (and ugly) thing you can buy. Our last stop was at the Holy Sepulcher, where Jesus was buried. So many layers of history in one place! Iyad is showing us how to know what is from Roman times, what is 4th century Byzantine, and what is from the 15th century. Such a fascinating place!
Click here to hear us signing at the Basillica of Saint Anne in the old city.
Lest you are worrying, know that our leaders, Thomas and Bishop Harris, are quite recovered and joined us for dinner. Thanks be to God!
Today, Thursday, is our second day in the Holy Land. We started out early (7am) for a walking tour of Old Jerusalem beginning with the Western Wall. The Holy Spirit in the form of a white dove enchanted us by perching in a niche right above us while we prayed at the Wall. We moved from there to the Islamic side of the wall where we saw the Dome of the Rock and then on to the pools of Bethesda and St. Anne's Church. Here there is a custom that each group of pilgrims stands in the center of the nave in front of the altar and sings. Our impromptu performance is posted below for your enjoyment. We took coffee or tea in an arab coffee shop and enjoyed a peaceful and delicious lunch at the Lutheran Guest House. We were hungry: I estimate we walked at least 6 miles in and through the narrow winding streets, including the Cardo, a souk filled with every kind of beautiful (and ugly) thing you can buy. Our last stop was at the Holy Sepulcher, where Jesus was buried. So many layers of history in one place! Iyad is showing us how to know what is from Roman times, what is 4th century Byzantine, and what is from the 15th century. Such a fascinating place!
Click here to hear us signing at the Basillica of Saint Anne in the old city.
Lest you are worrying, know that our leaders, Thomas and Bishop Harris, are quite recovered and joined us for dinner. Thanks be to God!
From the Mount of Olives to Gethsemane
I'm writing today from the hotel. The rest of the group is in the old city visiting the Western Wall and the Dome of the Rock and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Yes, I managed to catch the flu! I'm insistent upon losing only one day, and since we're so close to the old city I'll find my way to these places on my own, later in the trip. For now I'm drinking massive amounts of fluids and have slept most of the day. One of the pediatricians on the trip hooked me up with some tamiflu. If you haven't done so, get a flu shot!
Yesterday's trek, if you can call it that (everything is so compact), began at the Damascus Gate of the old city. Iyad explained, artfully, just enough to engage us, but not so much as to overwhelm us, the difference among the principal time periods which shaped both the architecture and the religious expressions of Jerusalem: 1st century (Roman) 4th-5th (Byzantine), and 11th-12th (Crusades). We walked, briefly, into the old city and exited on the Nablus Road ending up at St. George's Cathedral. Stunning! From there we met our bus, and following lunch, we gathered on top of Mount Scopus to get our bearings, and to appreciate once again how small the whole place actually is. I imagined a big city, but in fact, it's quite small, and during Jesus's time, of course, it was even more condensed.
Just east of Mount Scopus we stopped again to look east, and to see the dramatic beauty of the Judean desert, and also, to see Jewish settlements. In that part of the West Bank there really is only one section of hilltops without settlements. Who knows how long that will remain.
From there the bus took us a short ride to the Mount of Olives, and standing there, looking west, we could see the old city and get our bearings from a different perspective.
Then began the palm Sunday walk. We descended steeply to the Garden of Gethsemane, except for one important stop along the way, the Church of the Dominus Flevit (meaning "the Lord wept"). The current church was built in the 1950s, but the original one was supposedly built upon the rock where Jesus had wept over Jerusalem. It was extremely powerful to read from the gospels Jesus lament over Jerusalem (Luke 19:41 and Matthew 23:37-39), and to sit inside of a church where the central image is a mosaic on the altar of a hen gathering her chicks under wings. Of course I told the story of "chicks on a stick" for children in the Palm Sunday procession back home (taken from Thomas Mousin and from Gertrude Muller's book, To Dance with God.)
The Garden of Gethsemane itself is does indeed have some of the world's oldest olive trees, three of them have been scientifically dated to be over 2000 years old, making them witnesses to whatever biblical events occurred there. The Church of All Nations, also known as the Basilica of Agony, is a 1920s era shrine to mosaics! Unbelievable. The church was designed by Antonio Barluzzi, and the seals of the 12 nations which financed the project are represented on the ceiling, in mosaics, naturally.
We returned to the hotel late in the afternoon. At 5:00 a friend of Iyad's, a Palestinian Muslim, spoke to us about Islam, a sort of Islam for Dummies lecture. He was entertaining and passionate. At one point somebody asked him about what it's like to live in East Jerusalem, in 2013.
His response, even more animated than his discussion of Islam,
helped us to hear, maybe for the first time (I'm not sure how much
my travel companions have heard from Palestinians...we certainly
don't get the story from our media in the U.S.) the pain
of occupation, and the clear desire for a two state solution.
Yesterday's trek, if you can call it that (everything is so compact), began at the Damascus Gate of the old city. Iyad explained, artfully, just enough to engage us, but not so much as to overwhelm us, the difference among the principal time periods which shaped both the architecture and the religious expressions of Jerusalem: 1st century (Roman) 4th-5th (Byzantine), and 11th-12th (Crusades). We walked, briefly, into the old city and exited on the Nablus Road ending up at St. George's Cathedral. Stunning! From there we met our bus, and following lunch, we gathered on top of Mount Scopus to get our bearings, and to appreciate once again how small the whole place actually is. I imagined a big city, but in fact, it's quite small, and during Jesus's time, of course, it was even more condensed.
Just east of Mount Scopus we stopped again to look east, and to see the dramatic beauty of the Judean desert, and also, to see Jewish settlements. In that part of the West Bank there really is only one section of hilltops without settlements. Who knows how long that will remain.
From there the bus took us a short ride to the Mount of Olives, and standing there, looking west, we could see the old city and get our bearings from a different perspective.
 |
| The mosaic in front of the altar at the "Teardrop Church" which is about half-way from the Mount of Olives to the Garden of Gethsemane. |
Then began the palm Sunday walk. We descended steeply to the Garden of Gethsemane, except for one important stop along the way, the Church of the Dominus Flevit (meaning "the Lord wept"). The current church was built in the 1950s, but the original one was supposedly built upon the rock where Jesus had wept over Jerusalem. It was extremely powerful to read from the gospels Jesus lament over Jerusalem (Luke 19:41 and Matthew 23:37-39), and to sit inside of a church where the central image is a mosaic on the altar of a hen gathering her chicks under wings. Of course I told the story of "chicks on a stick" for children in the Palm Sunday procession back home (taken from Thomas Mousin and from Gertrude Muller's book, To Dance with God.)
 |
| Just inside the garden of Gethsemane |
The Garden of Gethsemane itself is does indeed have some of the world's oldest olive trees, three of them have been scientifically dated to be over 2000 years old, making them witnesses to whatever biblical events occurred there. The Church of All Nations, also known as the Basilica of Agony, is a 1920s era shrine to mosaics! Unbelievable. The church was designed by Antonio Barluzzi, and the seals of the 12 nations which financed the project are represented on the ceiling, in mosaics, naturally.
We returned to the hotel late in the afternoon. At 5:00 a friend of Iyad's, a Palestinian Muslim, spoke to us about Islam, a sort of Islam for Dummies lecture. He was entertaining and passionate. At one point somebody asked him about what it's like to live in East Jerusalem, in 2013.
His response, even more animated than his discussion of Islam,
helped us to hear, maybe for the first time (I'm not sure how much
my travel companions have heard from Palestinians...we certainly
don't get the story from our media in the U.S.) the pain
of occupation, and the clear desire for a two state solution.
 |
| One of the olive trees that is over 2000 years old. |
16 January 2013
Day 2: East Jerusalem
Today's post is from Laura Reboul, a member of the Parish of the Epiphany.
Yesterday, Tuesday, was a day of emotional highs and lows. After 3 days of sightseeing on our own in Tel Aviv, Ted and I joined the group from Boston at the airport and met our guide Iyad for the drive to Jerusalem. About halfway along the 45 minute trip, we crossed through the checkpoint (uneventful) into the West Bank and it was clear that the tone of our visit to Israel was about to change.
The highway was suddenly lined on both sides with a barbed wire fence. In the far distance we could see a huge Israeli Jewish settlement built for about 100,000 settlers. In the near distance we saw Palestinian houses - our guide indicated that these could identified as Palestinian because each roof had a black water tank. Piped water to the settlers homes is reliable. However, the water supply for Palestinians is apparently unpredictable, and it is cut off even more frequently in the summer. Hence they have to collect a reserve of water in rooftop tanks for times when the government cuts off therir supply. When we arrived at our hotel in East Jerusalem, we were in a very different world. Stll in the West Bank, , this Arab section of Jerusalem was teeming with activity The difficult position of the Palestinian Arabs was not as obvious here as along the highway. After lunch Iyad took us around the neighborbhood and introduced us to the best Arab shops for spices, coffee, books, etc. He obsviously is well respected as he and the shopkeepers all joked about being "cousins". As the atternoon wore on, the hotel filled up with more groups of pilgrims wearing a variety of religious garb and hailing from places including Romania, Russsia, and Malaysia. The Muslim call to prayer felt surprisingly comforting, And the evening Compline service with the 15 of us helped bring this overwhelming day to a peaceful concludson. Laura Reboul
Yesterday, Tuesday, was a day of emotional highs and lows. After 3 days of sightseeing on our own in Tel Aviv, Ted and I joined the group from Boston at the airport and met our guide Iyad for the drive to Jerusalem. About halfway along the 45 minute trip, we crossed through the checkpoint (uneventful) into the West Bank and it was clear that the tone of our visit to Israel was about to change.
The highway was suddenly lined on both sides with a barbed wire fence. In the far distance we could see a huge Israeli Jewish settlement built for about 100,000 settlers. In the near distance we saw Palestinian houses - our guide indicated that these could identified as Palestinian because each roof had a black water tank. Piped water to the settlers homes is reliable. However, the water supply for Palestinians is apparently unpredictable, and it is cut off even more frequently in the summer. Hence they have to collect a reserve of water in rooftop tanks for times when the government cuts off therir supply. When we arrived at our hotel in East Jerusalem, we were in a very different world. Stll in the West Bank, , this Arab section of Jerusalem was teeming with activity The difficult position of the Palestinian Arabs was not as obvious here as along the highway. After lunch Iyad took us around the neighborbhood and introduced us to the best Arab shops for spices, coffee, books, etc. He obsviously is well respected as he and the shopkeepers all joked about being "cousins". As the atternoon wore on, the hotel filled up with more groups of pilgrims wearing a variety of religious garb and hailing from places including Romania, Russsia, and Malaysia. The Muslim call to prayer felt surprisingly comforting, And the evening Compline service with the 15 of us helped bring this overwhelming day to a peaceful concludson. Laura Reboul
15 January 2013
East Jerusalem, Day 1
United Airlines #84 from Newark's Liberty Airport arrived at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv earlier than scheduled (about 9:00am local time...we're 7 hours ahead of EST), and the passport control was a breeze.
Canon Iyad Qumri, our guide (and I think the guide of nearly every Episcopal Church group) was there to greet us, as were Epiphanyites Ted & Laura Reboul, who had spent a couple days in Tel Aviv. The journey from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem is just 45 minutes, but eye-opening on every level, especially as we passed through the West Bank, though with our Israeli license plates it was uneventful. Even so, one cannot miss the fences and walls.
The only real setback for the group is that Bishop Harris is very sick, likely the flu. She arrived at Logan with what she thought was a cold, but by the time we landed in Israel, it was clear that whatever she has is more than a cold. Thankfully in our group we have three pediatricians, Lester, Donald, and Rita. Though they're not internists, they're all pretty expert in the flu. With their counsel, along with our guide, Iyad and his wife, Simone, (who's a nurse and is well acquainted with Bishop Harris) they agreed that Bishop Harris needed to see a doctor. She was given some intravenous fluids, a prescription or two, and is in her room resting.
Our accommodations at the Holy Land Hotel, in East Jerusalem, are perfectly fine: they're clean and we have free wi-fi. What else does one need? My room has a balcony which looks out onto the old city wall and the dome of the rock. I'll post some pictures later.
Iyad took us a few blocks for a shawarma lunch (delicious!), and gave us a brief tour of the neighborhood. A few of us, feeling intrepid and restless, ventured on our own into a small section of the old city: Noah (the rector of Grace Church in Medford), Pat (a parishioner from Epiphany), Marie (a parishioner from Epiphany), Anna (a young adult intern with the Diocese of Massachusetts), and I.
Staggering, really. The psalmist put it this way: Jerusalem is built as a city that is at unity with itself, to which the tribes go up. I felt that--something of that. Which is to say, that even on that brief trek through a very small portion of the old city, entering through Herod's gate and exiting at the Damascus gate, there is power in knowing that Jesus himself walked there.
There's one story that keeps coming back to me. My friend Dominic, a priest in the Church of England who leads many pilgrimages here, once said, "something happens to every person, spiritually, in the Holy Land. Every person has a moment." I don't yet know if he's right, nor am I suggesting that today was my "moment," yet here it was, "Jerusalem the golden."
This evening we'll have dinner together, here at the hotel, and be reunited with two more members of our group, David & Kathy Laubenthal, who, like the Rebouls, came earlier. We'll say our prayers, and head off to bed.
Canon Iyad Qumri, our guide (and I think the guide of nearly every Episcopal Church group) was there to greet us, as were Epiphanyites Ted & Laura Reboul, who had spent a couple days in Tel Aviv. The journey from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem is just 45 minutes, but eye-opening on every level, especially as we passed through the West Bank, though with our Israeli license plates it was uneventful. Even so, one cannot miss the fences and walls.
The only real setback for the group is that Bishop Harris is very sick, likely the flu. She arrived at Logan with what she thought was a cold, but by the time we landed in Israel, it was clear that whatever she has is more than a cold. Thankfully in our group we have three pediatricians, Lester, Donald, and Rita. Though they're not internists, they're all pretty expert in the flu. With their counsel, along with our guide, Iyad and his wife, Simone, (who's a nurse and is well acquainted with Bishop Harris) they agreed that Bishop Harris needed to see a doctor. She was given some intravenous fluids, a prescription or two, and is in her room resting.
Our accommodations at the Holy Land Hotel, in East Jerusalem, are perfectly fine: they're clean and we have free wi-fi. What else does one need? My room has a balcony which looks out onto the old city wall and the dome of the rock. I'll post some pictures later.
Iyad took us a few blocks for a shawarma lunch (delicious!), and gave us a brief tour of the neighborhood. A few of us, feeling intrepid and restless, ventured on our own into a small section of the old city: Noah (the rector of Grace Church in Medford), Pat (a parishioner from Epiphany), Marie (a parishioner from Epiphany), Anna (a young adult intern with the Diocese of Massachusetts), and I.
 |
| The wall of the old city is visible from my room. What's not visible, unfortunately, is the dome of the rock....just beyond that illuminated wall. |
There's one story that keeps coming back to me. My friend Dominic, a priest in the Church of England who leads many pilgrimages here, once said, "something happens to every person, spiritually, in the Holy Land. Every person has a moment." I don't yet know if he's right, nor am I suggesting that today was my "moment," yet here it was, "Jerusalem the golden."
This evening we'll have dinner together, here at the hotel, and be reunited with two more members of our group, David & Kathy Laubenthal, who, like the Rebouls, came earlier. We'll say our prayers, and head off to bed.
28 December 2012
The Holy Innocents
A priest and liturgist at the Church Divinity School of the Pacific (my own alma mater) pointed out, in the Globe’s article, that in the Episcopal Church’s calendar we have these holy days during Christmastide which provide a context to address this legitimate pastoral need. The day after Christmas, December 26th, is the Feast of St. Stephen, the first martyr, who was stoned to death. Today, is the Holy Innocents. Professor Larson-Miller wasn’t suggesting that we not create Blue Advent services, only that if we look to our existing calendar we can find rich resources that are both Biblical and liturgical. I also inferred by her comments that we’ve been doing this for centuries...that our tradition holds this, already!
Meanwhile the parish where I serve is shut-up for the days between Christmas and New Year’s, and I bet a handful of the people whom I serve, at most, know that these days are filled with “major feasts,” including today’s, the Holy Innocents. If our churches don’t keep these days (i.e. if the clergy take 3-4 days off) how can we expect the faithful to know about them, or to keep/celebrate them?
When King Herod had all those under-two-year olds slaughtered he was using his power to squelch what he knew to be a liberating Word in the birth of Jesus. But St. Matthew’s telling of this god-awful story isn’t merely news. It's a story in the most literary sense, one designed to draw us beyond ‘what happened to them’ to the depths of ‘what is happening to us.’ Reading about a Joseph with prophetic dreams should remind us of another righteous man who ended up exiled from his family in Egypt. Hearing of baby boys slaughtered by the empire would remind Matthew’s readers of the way Moses narrowly escaped that fate as well. And any Jew hearing this story in 1st century Palestine would remember the more recent terrors under Antiochus, when any mother caught circumcising her son would be rewarded with a dead baby hung around her neck.
And, even more, reading this story better remind us, in 2012, that innocents are slaughtered every day...in Syria, in the Sudan, in the Congo, and yes, on the streets in the United States of America.
This past year (from December 2011 until December 2012) I spent a great deal of time with Stanley Hauerwas’s commentary on Matthew’s gospel (Matthew. Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible, 2006). I leave you today with a quotation from this book, and an invitation to reflect on our own response and feelings to today’s commemoration of the Holy Innocents, in the first century, as well as on those children who will die at the hands of tyrants, at home and abroad:
"Perhaps no event in the gospel more determinatively challenges the sentimental depiction of Christmas than the death of these children. Jesus is born into a world in which children are killed, and continue to be killed, to protect the power of tyrants [like Herod]."
15 December 2012
A prayer for Newtown, Connecticut
News from Newtown leads us to prayer. Here's where I went yesterday late afternoon:
Holy God, we pray for your guidance and presence. Surround the people of Newtown, Connecticut, as they respond to this horrible tragedy. Receive into your heavenly kingdom the children and adults who died this morning, give them unending joy. Bless and uphold their families and loved ones who grieve. And, finally, in your mercy give us wisdom and insight from this senseless violence, that we will do everything in our power to protect and nurture our children, in whom you make yourself especially known. We ask this in the friendship of your Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ, and in the embrace of your Holy Spirit, who breathes upon us a peace which passes understanding. Amen.
20 October 2012
Guide us waking and guard us sleeping
Today, our last full day here, began early with the morning devotional time, which is an all-school assembly led by one of the teachers, who says the opening prayers, followed by a presentation/sermon/inspirational speech by Doña Claudia. Then, we divided ourselves into teams of three to spend time in the classrooms. The students run the gamut. Some are great students, some have almost no interest, some were distracted to have us as visitors, others were motivated. From our perspective we saw determined, compassionate teachers who welcomed us, and who worked non-stop to teach and to love.
Some of the classroom time was interrupted by more furniture moving, which we did cheerfully, and by something else: food shopping. Because El Hogar is "in between" kitchens we offered to buy the groceries to make 220 ham and cheese sandwiches. That´s a lot of white bread, mayonnaise, mustard, cheese, and ham!
By 10:30 we were loaded into the van and en route to the Agricultural School, a good hour´s drive from town. Our tour there was thorough, but given our tight schedule, not as lengthy as we had hoped. I loved especially how clean the stalls were for the cows and the pigs, and we were all impressed by the School´s coffee cultivation.
A beautiful drive over the mountain ended in Valle de Angeles, a town near Santa Lucia where locals and toursists alike go for shopping and eating. We loaded up on goods for Epiphany´s Artisan Fair, and dashed back to El Hogar just in time to assemble the 220 sandwiches. Doña Claudia laughed to see the new kitchen inaugurated by a cookery of all men. Before too long we could see all the children lined up outside the new dining center. We said several prayers, then we sang Gracias, then, like unto a grand liturgical procession in some majestic cathedral, the children marched into their new space to collect their sandwiches. We danced to the beat of the school´s marimba and drums, and wondered when the band will make their way to a 10:00 service at the Parish of the Epiphany. From there we loaded up two vans and headed to a Honduran restaurant where we hosted the Castro family, as well as five of the teachers at El Hogar who are celebrating their birthdays during October.
Yet that´s not all.
Long before we left Winchester this group of nine men met several times to raise money, to get acqainted, and to prepare for this mission. One of the commitments we made at those initial meetings was to pray every night that we were here at El Hogar. And so it was that on our very first night here, Saturday the 13th, we gathered on the narrow enclosed porch at the Volunteer House, sitting in Technical-School-Made adirondack chairs, and we prayed. Every night, all of us, all the time. The Prayer Books, a few of them literally vintage, were donated by the Church of the Holy Trinity in Ocean City, New Jersey, and since I had left all of our prayer material at home, I was especially relieved for this gift from Holy Trinity. There were exactly 9 books. Once we had dug them out of the little bookshelf in the sitting area off the kitchen, we sat quietly, opened the books and discovered that the ribbons were already marked to the office of Compline, the ancient late-night service used by monastic communities throughout generations. Compline has been our prayer every night.
The closing antiphon is from the Song of Simeon, the canticle we know best from Evensong: Guide us waking, O Lord, and guard us sleeping; that awake we may watch with Christ, and asleep we may rest in peace.
We said this office tonight for the last time. We said it strongly, led by Thom Fries, and we prayed with a fierce, in-the-body-sense that God has blessed us beyond measure. We prayed while picturing in our mind the faces and smiles, the tears and the love of the boys and girls who have befriended us, and we ended with an unswerving resolve to hold the teachers, the staff, and the board of directors in our hearts.
In that meeting with Doña Claudia (mentioned in an earlier blog post) two days ago we asked her how she keeps up her attitude of hope. She answered by admitting that it´s not always easy. Then she said, "But thanks God we can see Him working in the lives of these children every day. Thanks God." Later that afternoon I thanked her for her courage in answering the question so honestly, and for permitting us to see not only her vulnerability, but also her faith. I said, "your life is cruciform, cross-shaped, yes?" She nodded and said, "Yes, it is, but Christ is alive." How right she is, that Doña Claudia! Jesus lived out what was in him, and on that hill, on that cross, he reconciled everything that was at odds, in his own self and in those who surrounded him. He reconciled that which was supposedly irreconcilable. El Hogar does the same thing. And what of us, the people who are his disciples? We know, along with Doña Claudia and the young boys and girls at this school, that what happened there is not the end. Life broke through. It was not possible for death to hold Jesus. Indeed he is alive, and so is El Hogar, and so are the 9 of us who were here this week.
On the back of Doña Claudia´s car is a bumper sticker. It reads Jesus es tu amigo, Jesus is your friend. The men of this trip, this group of 9, were the incarnation of this statement.
As we get ready to return home, to you--our families and our church--I am unspeakably thankful for these "amigos." I believe we have witnessed here that no matter how cruciform shaped life is (ours, or these children's, or anybody's) love and hope transform us into new creations; the glory of friendship unites us in new bonds of affection and respect; and the grace of Christ, who is alive and who is our friend, guides us waking and guards us sleeping.
With love--ours and God´s,
Thomas
Some of the classroom time was interrupted by more furniture moving, which we did cheerfully, and by something else: food shopping. Because El Hogar is "in between" kitchens we offered to buy the groceries to make 220 ham and cheese sandwiches. That´s a lot of white bread, mayonnaise, mustard, cheese, and ham!
By 10:30 we were loaded into the van and en route to the Agricultural School, a good hour´s drive from town. Our tour there was thorough, but given our tight schedule, not as lengthy as we had hoped. I loved especially how clean the stalls were for the cows and the pigs, and we were all impressed by the School´s coffee cultivation.
A beautiful drive over the mountain ended in Valle de Angeles, a town near Santa Lucia where locals and toursists alike go for shopping and eating. We loaded up on goods for Epiphany´s Artisan Fair, and dashed back to El Hogar just in time to assemble the 220 sandwiches. Doña Claudia laughed to see the new kitchen inaugurated by a cookery of all men. Before too long we could see all the children lined up outside the new dining center. We said several prayers, then we sang Gracias, then, like unto a grand liturgical procession in some majestic cathedral, the children marched into their new space to collect their sandwiches. We danced to the beat of the school´s marimba and drums, and wondered when the band will make their way to a 10:00 service at the Parish of the Epiphany. From there we loaded up two vans and headed to a Honduran restaurant where we hosted the Castro family, as well as five of the teachers at El Hogar who are celebrating their birthdays during October.
Yet that´s not all.
Long before we left Winchester this group of nine men met several times to raise money, to get acqainted, and to prepare for this mission. One of the commitments we made at those initial meetings was to pray every night that we were here at El Hogar. And so it was that on our very first night here, Saturday the 13th, we gathered on the narrow enclosed porch at the Volunteer House, sitting in Technical-School-Made adirondack chairs, and we prayed. Every night, all of us, all the time. The Prayer Books, a few of them literally vintage, were donated by the Church of the Holy Trinity in Ocean City, New Jersey, and since I had left all of our prayer material at home, I was especially relieved for this gift from Holy Trinity. There were exactly 9 books. Once we had dug them out of the little bookshelf in the sitting area off the kitchen, we sat quietly, opened the books and discovered that the ribbons were already marked to the office of Compline, the ancient late-night service used by monastic communities throughout generations. Compline has been our prayer every night.
The closing antiphon is from the Song of Simeon, the canticle we know best from Evensong: Guide us waking, O Lord, and guard us sleeping; that awake we may watch with Christ, and asleep we may rest in peace.
We said this office tonight for the last time. We said it strongly, led by Thom Fries, and we prayed with a fierce, in-the-body-sense that God has blessed us beyond measure. We prayed while picturing in our mind the faces and smiles, the tears and the love of the boys and girls who have befriended us, and we ended with an unswerving resolve to hold the teachers, the staff, and the board of directors in our hearts.
In that meeting with Doña Claudia (mentioned in an earlier blog post) two days ago we asked her how she keeps up her attitude of hope. She answered by admitting that it´s not always easy. Then she said, "But thanks God we can see Him working in the lives of these children every day. Thanks God." Later that afternoon I thanked her for her courage in answering the question so honestly, and for permitting us to see not only her vulnerability, but also her faith. I said, "your life is cruciform, cross-shaped, yes?" She nodded and said, "Yes, it is, but Christ is alive." How right she is, that Doña Claudia! Jesus lived out what was in him, and on that hill, on that cross, he reconciled everything that was at odds, in his own self and in those who surrounded him. He reconciled that which was supposedly irreconcilable. El Hogar does the same thing. And what of us, the people who are his disciples? We know, along with Doña Claudia and the young boys and girls at this school, that what happened there is not the end. Life broke through. It was not possible for death to hold Jesus. Indeed he is alive, and so is El Hogar, and so are the 9 of us who were here this week.
On the back of Doña Claudia´s car is a bumper sticker. It reads Jesus es tu amigo, Jesus is your friend. The men of this trip, this group of 9, were the incarnation of this statement.
As we get ready to return home, to you--our families and our church--I am unspeakably thankful for these "amigos." I believe we have witnessed here that no matter how cruciform shaped life is (ours, or these children's, or anybody's) love and hope transform us into new creations; the glory of friendship unites us in new bonds of affection and respect; and the grace of Christ, who is alive and who is our friend, guides us waking and guards us sleeping.
With love--ours and God´s,
Thomas
18 October 2012
Day 6, El Hogar
The day started with the now morning requirement of seven AM assembly. We joined in a large circle with most of the children as roll was called. An inspirational story was read by the matron in charge as the remaining children filtered in. The story involved "tres hombres de negocios" (business men) and the team listened with all their might and managed to pick up about every third Spanish word. Returning to the guest house, we compared notes and found that we had nine different versions of the story. Our Spanish is improving but at a slow pace.
This was the day to visit the technical school at Ameriteca. The drive passed along a true super highway which is a big contrast with what I experiemced five years ago. We turned off of the superhighway a few kilometers before our destination and found the familiar rutted gravel road. The technical school campus appeared shortly and we unfolded ourselves fom the van to see an impressive completed set of buildings including the chappel which now boasts a mural which was just completed in 2010.
Our guide, Minor, was a former El Hogar student who spoke with an impressive command of English, thus releiving us from the use of our primitive Spanish. The technical shool director, Lazaro (sp?) a founder of El Hogar provided interesting accounts of the early daysat the school. He sais that he never dreamed that it would grow to be what it is today.
Our return to El Hogar put us back in work mode as we had to move the old kitchen to the nrw dining hall/kitchen. We almost completed that task, with the exception of a large gas oven which we moved out of the old building and into the new building, but not into the new kitchen. It is too large for the doorway and will await the installers which will come tomorrow.
Will (Guillermo)
This was the day to visit the technical school at Ameriteca. The drive passed along a true super highway which is a big contrast with what I experiemced five years ago. We turned off of the superhighway a few kilometers before our destination and found the familiar rutted gravel road. The technical school campus appeared shortly and we unfolded ourselves fom the van to see an impressive completed set of buildings including the chappel which now boasts a mural which was just completed in 2010.
Our guide, Minor, was a former El Hogar student who spoke with an impressive command of English, thus releiving us from the use of our primitive Spanish. The technical shool director, Lazaro (sp?) a founder of El Hogar provided interesting accounts of the early daysat the school. He sais that he never dreamed that it would grow to be what it is today.
Our return to El Hogar put us back in work mode as we had to move the old kitchen to the nrw dining hall/kitchen. We almost completed that task, with the exception of a large gas oven which we moved out of the old building and into the new building, but not into the new kitchen. It is too large for the doorway and will await the installers which will come tomorrow.
Will (Guillermo)
17 October 2012
Day 5 Bricks & Stumps
This morning`s started with the 7 am morning devotional, which today was a little different from Tuesday`s. Professor Karen started with what sounded like a talk on friendship and confidence, and took two boys into the center of the circle and had them each in turn, fall backwards as she caught them. This led in nicely to Donna Claudia magically appearing and quickly getting everyones attention as she introduced a student who, as we learned later, spoke to the kids about his current situation. Jorge Alberto had been a model student until three months ago, when began brooding and being disruptive in class and at the school in general. Not surprisingly, this led to a meeting with Claudia, where she learned he had returned from a home visit with his father very upset. Claudia encouraged him to open about about his fears and concerns with her, and he realized that he was loved at El Hogar and by God. This led to Jorge realizing he could talk with his family at El Hogar, and led him to want to speak to the group. Being that our Spanish is weak, we didn`t understand everything, but the younger children listened intently as he explained how they could avoid making the same mistake he had made. As an outsider, it`s pretty obvious that these children are part of something special, and they appreciate it all very much. Claudia, took our group after the morning devotional, and told us how many of the new children have never been hugged, or even been told that they are loved. It certainly focused us as a team to what the true meaning of this trip is, and it left a very strong impression on everyone.
According to Raoul, the true meaning of our trip, today, was to get about a thousand bricks up the hill at the Santa Lucia site. If we thought that shovelling dirt and mud for two days was as base a level of labor as could be had, imagine our joy at today`s activities. Those of us "working the hill" each started with 3 or 4 bricks, hand carried up the hill. Padre Thomas immediately grabbed 5, thus setting off a competition among the alpha males. The limit was reached at 8, but we quickly realized that 4 per haul was the right amount for SIX HOURS of hauling. Meanwhile, those "working the house" continued with the cleaning and painting on the second floor, wrapping up their work late afternoon, leaving a beautifully painted house for the girls moving in next semester. At this point, some of the hill crew and some house crew members got together to remove a stump from the pathway of the ever-extending stone (and brick) wall. One chainsaw, one axe, one shovel, one pickaxe and three Episcopalians were defeated by the stump, for today. If it is still there next year, we`ll be back with dynamite.
The day ended with Father Matt inviting us to stay for supper at his home on the grounds of the El Hogar girls school in Santa Lucia. We were rewarded with a beautiful sunset over the hills of Tegucigalpa, accompanied by grilled burgers and cold, adult, beverages. A good hard day of work. Unfortunately, the children were in their dormitories by the time we returned and we are not able to play with them as we usually do after dinner.
Buenos noches from HAYE,
Bill W. and Tom H.
According to Raoul, the true meaning of our trip, today, was to get about a thousand bricks up the hill at the Santa Lucia site. If we thought that shovelling dirt and mud for two days was as base a level of labor as could be had, imagine our joy at today`s activities. Those of us "working the hill" each started with 3 or 4 bricks, hand carried up the hill. Padre Thomas immediately grabbed 5, thus setting off a competition among the alpha males. The limit was reached at 8, but we quickly realized that 4 per haul was the right amount for SIX HOURS of hauling. Meanwhile, those "working the house" continued with the cleaning and painting on the second floor, wrapping up their work late afternoon, leaving a beautifully painted house for the girls moving in next semester. At this point, some of the hill crew and some house crew members got together to remove a stump from the pathway of the ever-extending stone (and brick) wall. One chainsaw, one axe, one shovel, one pickaxe and three Episcopalians were defeated by the stump, for today. If it is still there next year, we`ll be back with dynamite.
The day ended with Father Matt inviting us to stay for supper at his home on the grounds of the El Hogar girls school in Santa Lucia. We were rewarded with a beautiful sunset over the hills of Tegucigalpa, accompanied by grilled burgers and cold, adult, beverages. A good hard day of work. Unfortunately, the children were in their dormitories by the time we returned and we are not able to play with them as we usually do after dinner.
Buenos noches from HAYE,
Bill W. and Tom H.
16 October 2012
Honduras wins big!
Today was an eventful day. We attended our first morning assembly at 7 AM. The students arranged themselves in a square outside the classrooms, sang the national anthem, and Claudia spoke about various topics, from the recent holidays, to being a good citizen. She also announced that the kids would be allowed to watch the Honduras-Canada soccer match that afternoon. She introduced our group, asked Thomas to address the students while she translated, and sent the students off to class.
We went back to our dorm for our first non-pancake breakfast. Cornflakes with whole milk, which were very popular. We then boarded the van and Raul dazzled us with his driving ability and took us to Santa Lucia for day two of working on the girls' dorm. The weather was beautiful, along with the mountainous scenery. Thom and Rick moved outside to help fill in the trench next to the wall foundation, and Thomas and Josh went inside to help paint. When we started yesterday, the trench was about 40 feet long and eight feet deep in spots. Lots of shovels, picks, and a wheelbarrow helped us finish, along with loud rooster crows from the adjacent property.
The painters finished the downstairs bathroom and moved up the outside stairway to start in on the bedrooms. NO PINK! The sixth grade girls have made it clear that they want no pink in their new home, and we have to return a few gallons of pink paint we bought.
We worked straight through lunch hour so that we could watch the soccer match too. We could hear the vuvuzelas from the village as we sat down to watch the game with Matt and Raul. Honduras quickly took control, and the result was never really in doubt. They beat Canada, 8-1. There was at least one goal, header-to-diving header, that we think will be in the soccer highlight reels.
Raul drove us back just in time for a dinner of quesadillas, and then we went outside to play with the kids. Sidewalk chalk drawings, see-saw battles, children sledding as they were pulled on plastic crates, and volleyball without any net were all highlights. We met Julio and Mychael, sponsored by friends back home. We are still trying to iron out the logistics of the dorm keys, as we locked ourselves out, and Claudia had to rescue us.
Ed and Thom F
We went back to our dorm for our first non-pancake breakfast. Cornflakes with whole milk, which were very popular. We then boarded the van and Raul dazzled us with his driving ability and took us to Santa Lucia for day two of working on the girls' dorm. The weather was beautiful, along with the mountainous scenery. Thom and Rick moved outside to help fill in the trench next to the wall foundation, and Thomas and Josh went inside to help paint. When we started yesterday, the trench was about 40 feet long and eight feet deep in spots. Lots of shovels, picks, and a wheelbarrow helped us finish, along with loud rooster crows from the adjacent property.
The painters finished the downstairs bathroom and moved up the outside stairway to start in on the bedrooms. NO PINK! The sixth grade girls have made it clear that they want no pink in their new home, and we have to return a few gallons of pink paint we bought.
We worked straight through lunch hour so that we could watch the soccer match too. We could hear the vuvuzelas from the village as we sat down to watch the game with Matt and Raul. Honduras quickly took control, and the result was never really in doubt. They beat Canada, 8-1. There was at least one goal, header-to-diving header, that we think will be in the soccer highlight reels.
Raul drove us back just in time for a dinner of quesadillas, and then we went outside to play with the kids. Sidewalk chalk drawings, see-saw battles, children sledding as they were pulled on plastic crates, and volleyball without any net were all highlights. We met Julio and Mychael, sponsored by friends back home. We are still trying to iron out the logistics of the dorm keys, as we locked ourselves out, and Claudia had to rescue us.
Ed and Thom F
15 October 2012
Day 3- El Hogar and Santa Lucia
Buenos Tardes,
Today, Lunes, was a busy day for the men´s team here in Honduras as we made our first of three trips to Santa Lucia, soon to be home to the first graduating class of young girls from El Hogar. Although today was the start of a new work week, the schedule was a bit more relaxed as it was actually a holiday here in Honduras. However, we were never quite clear on what exactly was being celebrated. Regardless, it meant that the day started a bit later as there was no devotional to share with the kids to start as there will be on all other days. After breakfast, Raul pointed us in the direction of a large pile of wood in the back of the buildings that was to be moved and loaded onto a truck to be taken to Santa Lucia later in the day. The group teamed up along with about a half dozen eager boys, and we all moved many long and heavy planks through the campus and down to a waiting truck.
We then piled into the van and pulled away from El Hogar with many waves and smiles from children who were hanging around to see what happened. Raul took us through the city on the way out of Tegucigalpu and towards the east. The road took us out of town and into hills and valleys that steadily became more rural as we progressed. The winding road led us into a beautiful area of the country that is home to Santa Lucia. The girls school is through the picturesque town of the same name and accessed via a twisting and turning cobblestone road. The van climbed steadily and squeezed past other vehicles and Raul amazingly delivered us to the site of the school which is nestled high in the hills overlooking the outskirts of Tegucigalpa. The place is beautiful, just as a number of boys had told us it would be earlier in the day before we had left. There are several buildings on approximately two acres of peaceful, private property that was acquired with the generous help of friends to El Hogar from Canada. Matt Engelby is staying at Santa Lucia when he is in country and he was there to greet us.
Work is under way to ready the school for the first graduating class of girls who are scheduled to start classes in February of 2013. There are 6 girls in the first class, and they are going to absolutely love their new home. The team split up into two groups who worked on two different projects during the day. Bill, Tom H., Thomas, Ed, and Josh worked all day shoveling wet, heavy soil from a large pile into a trench that had been dug along the boundry of the property for a new security wall that is going up. This was difficult work, but the guys made great progress during the day. Meanwhile, the other group went inside the dorm where the girls will live and began cleaning and then painting a bright new color on the walls. The dorm is a great space with room to prepare and serve meals on the ground floor, and bedrooms on the second floor. There is an outside staircase that takes you up to the bedrooms which are off a long and wide open porch that overlooks the valley. It is stunning.
We broke at noon and made a quick trip back up to the small town center of Santa Lucia to meet the truck loaded with all the wood from El Hogar. The truck was not able to make it through the tight and twisting streets to the campus. So we unloaded wood from the truck and loaded it into the van while Raul engaged a friend of a friend of one the workers at the girls school to also load wood onto his very small pickup truck so that it all could be moved. Wow, what a sight! It is amazing that the resulting load did not shift and lead to disaster, but the driver skillfully delivered the load intact. All this wood is going to be used for scaffolding which will be needed to finish the wall over the next couple of months. After lunch, we finished up projects for the day and headed back to El Hogar.
This is what I had waited for all day. I had not seen Cesar Yoel over the weekend as he spends his weekends at home. I grabbed the photo book and cards that had been prepared at home, and went out to see if I could spot him. It only took a few minutes and I recognized him right away. I introduced myself and asked Cesar if we could sit together. I then showed him the pictures and notes, and the letter from Henry whom he had met this past summer. Kids gathered round and could not wait to look on with Cesar as he took it all in. His shy personality gave way quickly to smiles as he recognized members of the family. He also became an instant celebrity as all his friends wanted to see the photos as well. It couldn´t have been a nicer way to end a busy day.
We are all enjoying our time here and look forward to a return trip to Santa Lucia tomorrow. What a great day.
Hasta Manana, Rick
Buenos Tardes,
Today, Lunes, was a busy day for the men´s team here in Honduras as we made our first of three trips to Santa Lucia, soon to be home to the first graduating class of young girls from El Hogar. Although today was the start of a new work week, the schedule was a bit more relaxed as it was actually a holiday here in Honduras. However, we were never quite clear on what exactly was being celebrated. Regardless, it meant that the day started a bit later as there was no devotional to share with the kids to start as there will be on all other days. After breakfast, Raul pointed us in the direction of a large pile of wood in the back of the buildings that was to be moved and loaded onto a truck to be taken to Santa Lucia later in the day. The group teamed up along with about a half dozen eager boys, and we all moved many long and heavy planks through the campus and down to a waiting truck.
We then piled into the van and pulled away from El Hogar with many waves and smiles from children who were hanging around to see what happened. Raul took us through the city on the way out of Tegucigalpu and towards the east. The road took us out of town and into hills and valleys that steadily became more rural as we progressed. The winding road led us into a beautiful area of the country that is home to Santa Lucia. The girls school is through the picturesque town of the same name and accessed via a twisting and turning cobblestone road. The van climbed steadily and squeezed past other vehicles and Raul amazingly delivered us to the site of the school which is nestled high in the hills overlooking the outskirts of Tegucigalpa. The place is beautiful, just as a number of boys had told us it would be earlier in the day before we had left. There are several buildings on approximately two acres of peaceful, private property that was acquired with the generous help of friends to El Hogar from Canada. Matt Engelby is staying at Santa Lucia when he is in country and he was there to greet us.
Work is under way to ready the school for the first graduating class of girls who are scheduled to start classes in February of 2013. There are 6 girls in the first class, and they are going to absolutely love their new home. The team split up into two groups who worked on two different projects during the day. Bill, Tom H., Thomas, Ed, and Josh worked all day shoveling wet, heavy soil from a large pile into a trench that had been dug along the boundry of the property for a new security wall that is going up. This was difficult work, but the guys made great progress during the day. Meanwhile, the other group went inside the dorm where the girls will live and began cleaning and then painting a bright new color on the walls. The dorm is a great space with room to prepare and serve meals on the ground floor, and bedrooms on the second floor. There is an outside staircase that takes you up to the bedrooms which are off a long and wide open porch that overlooks the valley. It is stunning.
We broke at noon and made a quick trip back up to the small town center of Santa Lucia to meet the truck loaded with all the wood from El Hogar. The truck was not able to make it through the tight and twisting streets to the campus. So we unloaded wood from the truck and loaded it into the van while Raul engaged a friend of a friend of one the workers at the girls school to also load wood onto his very small pickup truck so that it all could be moved. Wow, what a sight! It is amazing that the resulting load did not shift and lead to disaster, but the driver skillfully delivered the load intact. All this wood is going to be used for scaffolding which will be needed to finish the wall over the next couple of months. After lunch, we finished up projects for the day and headed back to El Hogar.
This is what I had waited for all day. I had not seen Cesar Yoel over the weekend as he spends his weekends at home. I grabbed the photo book and cards that had been prepared at home, and went out to see if I could spot him. It only took a few minutes and I recognized him right away. I introduced myself and asked Cesar if we could sit together. I then showed him the pictures and notes, and the letter from Henry whom he had met this past summer. Kids gathered round and could not wait to look on with Cesar as he took it all in. His shy personality gave way quickly to smiles as he recognized members of the family. He also became an instant celebrity as all his friends wanted to see the photos as well. It couldn´t have been a nicer way to end a busy day.
We are all enjoying our time here and look forward to a return trip to Santa Lucia tomorrow. What a great day.
Hasta Manana, Rick
14 October 2012
Day Two - Settling into El Hogar time
El Domingo was our first full day at El Hogar, and we tried hard to heed Liz Kinchen's advice to stow away the "Type A" personalities, live for the children and settle into “El Hogar” time. As of day two of our mission trip, we still have a lot to learn about slowing down. Sunday is the day to attend the Eucharist at the Cathedral, and we were dressed and ready to go an hour and a half early….still not getting the concept of calming down and relaxing.
At 10:15, 19 of us (the 10 adults and 9 children - chosen by Donna Claudia based on academic excellence or exemplary behavior) piled into El Hogar`s compact van for the frantic, winding drive to the Iglesias. The Cathedral is a small, but bright, airy, modern church. And with it`s Latin rock band music, modern sculptures of the Last Supper (which might have been been made at the Technical School), it’s a festive and energized community. So festive that The Peace (La Paz) lasted long enough for everyone in the entire church to greet each other.
The highlight of the day for the kids was the visit to Pizza Hut, which is a great treat for them. And there, connections were made that will last throughout he week and beyond. Tom, Bill and Ed entertained the girls Madeline, Maria and Katia with a 19-game tic-tac-toe contest while Rich and Josh made friends with William, Cezar, Luiz and Dennis (a charming, outgoing and very intelligent boy of about 9). Despite the language differences, we shared many laughs and Padre Thomas (who Tom Hamilton, has affectionately nicknamed “Padre Wiseguy”) commented "I've always wanted to have about 10 kids". Today Thomas, you have your wish!
All 19 of us crammed back into the van to race back to El Hogar, where we finally DID settle down, and spent the remainder of the afternoon playing with the younger kids. Ed and Rick were invited to anchor a raucous tug-of-war. And we all joined the kids on the "soccer field", (the concrete courtyard outside the classrooms) where most of the kids play barefoot, but play with such passion, joy and gusto that they might be playing in the Word Cup.
And as the kids settle into their Sunday routine of chores and dinner, we’re sitting down to our dinner in the Volunteer House for and an evening of laughs and good stories. Tomorrow we hear we`re off to build a wall.
Greetings from Tom, Tom, and Tom, Rich and Rich, Bill and Bill, and Josh and Ed!
-Josh
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