Would You Believe We Climbed ANOTHER Mountain Today?!?!?

Today is November 8.  Don’t know what day it is; my iphone says Tuesday. 

We started the day with a walk through Old Bethlehem.  We walked from the hotel up the hill, and through the streets to the Church of the Nativity (which, incidentally, was built by Helena, Constantine’s mom.  She also had St. Katherine’s built, I believe…).  There were just TONS of people there, and one of the things Peter told us is that in an Orthodox Church, you are not to cross your legs while seated,.  I wonder if that’s where the rule comes from that clergy aren’t to cross their legs while they have their robes on…. 

The original columns of the church were Constantinian.  Justinian came along later and remodeled the church, raising the floor.  Beginning in the 1970s, it has been renovated and people have been able to see pieces of the original 4^th century building.  In my pics, for example, you can see where the floor has been cut away to reveal pieces of the original fourth century tiling. 

All the icons, we learned, are from the Crusader period.  The balls hanging down appear somewhat tacky and gaudy at first, but they are symbols of fertility and birth. Our modern day Christmas tree ornaments mimic these.  Some are egg-shaped, but most are ball-shaped. The paintings on the wall represent the different ecumenical councils.  Even though much of the interior of the church has been restored, this church HAS BEEN IN CONSTANT USE for 1700 years.  They say that when the Persians were going through the area destroying all Christian churches, they saw murals on the walls of this church that had Asian features.  Because they recognized their own features on the wall, it’s said, they did not destroy the church.

We were making our way down to the caves underneath the church, to see the place where Jesus was supposedly born.  There is also supposedly the place where He was placed in the manger, as well as the place where the magi stood when they adored Him.  As we waited in the lines and listened to the Romanian Orthodox priest who wouldn’t shut up despite the Greek Orthodox priests continually asking everyone to be quiet; as we listened to the Orthodox congregants chatter and (IMHO) behave badly; as we looked at humongous lines of people crowding and bustling to get down these stairs and look at a little hole in the ground, it occurred to me that Heaven HAS to exist outside of space and time as we know it.  It just HAS to. 

Part of the reason for the delay was there was an Orthodox liturgy going on.  Folks would come out and ask everyone to be quiet, and people kept talking.  I wondered why people would come out to a church and disrespect it like that, but Richard explained that the people in these lines are not all pilgrims; to many, this is like a museum.  That thought had never occurred to me.

So after we went down and looked at the spot, we came up and looked at the original Constantinian Mosaic again.  We chatted about the apparent Orthodox sense of superiority.  For us as Protestants, God intersects human history in the Person of Jesus Christ.  For Orthodox Christians, God intersects human history in certain revered Places.  That’s why the sacred Places are so important, and why they reverenced them so much.

We attempted to go down into the caves where Jerome translated the Vulgate, but some Orthodox group went down and chained it off from everyone else.  So we went outside and took pictures of the statue of Jerome and the front of the church. 

While we were waiting for our bus driver, I met a woman who’d been born in Palestine, but who now lives in Jordan.  She and her husband had lived in the US for several years.  They have two sons, a year and seven months apart, who are both mechanical engineers.  We talked, and she wanted me to tell the world about how life is for the Palestinian people.  It is for them, she said, like living in a jail.  That’s why I keep going back to Israel and that’s why I keep blogging about it – America, we need to recognize what’s going on here and how complicit we are in the systematic oppression and attempted genocide of a people.

I do what I can.  But what happened for me today was that in the midst of everything that went on, instead of being annoyed with people or things outside my control, I began to praise God – not For anything, not Because of anything – just praising God because I could.

Glad I did.  After we left the Church of the Nativity, we went to the Herodion.  We climbed it.  I don’t know how high it was – after Mt. Sinai, nothing seems all that high.  It was a bit taxing, yes, but no big deal.  I have pictures.  The Herodion was Herod’s summer palace.  He made it, of course, higher than any other structure in sight, literally having guys chop the top off a surrounding mountain and move it to his to make his palace higher.  In direct view of the Mt. of Olives, it is possible that Jesus was watching this feat when he talked about people having the faith to move mountains.  Herod (don’t remember which one this was) was something.    

We left the Herodion and went to the Orthodox Shepherd’s field.  I’d always gone to the Franciscan one, so this was a treat.  We started by reading Luke 2: 1-15.  Except, of course, that we were interrupted by a group of Orthodox Christians on a tour.  I wondered how you could interrupt someone else when you see them reading the Bible (or the Quran or the Torah, for that matter), but I was reminded that people reverence PLACE.  At least, that’s what I chose to believe.

There was a BEAUTIFUL fragrance in the Garden.  We ultimately found that it was Myrrh, likely incense used to sanctify the Greek chapel.  Then we went down into the cave and explored the chapel.

After that, we went to the Dollar restaurant.  The owner just got his US citizenship a month ago.  He applied several years ago, using refugee status.  Again, US, we’ve got to do better. If we acknowledge that Palestinians are refugees, why in the world are we supporting the government that oppresses them?

Lunch at the Dollar was amazing:  we all ordered chicken sandwiches.  They came with appetizers of hummus, some sort of corn salad, some cabbage salad, and a mixed green salad.  And lots of pita bread.  By the time the free appetizers were over, we were stuffed.  I took half my sandwich with me, and still haven’t eaten it.

After lunch, we went to the Mount of Olives and looked out over the City of Jerusalem.  Peter gave us history lessons, and I shared with him my thoughts that I tend to look things up when they interest me.  There’s lots of good history here and he helps to contextualize it; I just can’t write fast enough, so I take in what I can and look up the rest. 

One of the things I learned was that Jerusalem has had over 6,000 years of continuous human history, or 3,000 years before the Israelites.  While Jerusalem is the Hebrew word for city of Peace, or City of Abundant Peace, it is also an Arabic(?) word that means foundation of Shalem.  Shalem was a Canaanite god.  If we look in the 30^th and 31^st chapters of the book of Jeremiah, we see references to the god Molech in the Hinem valley, which is right outside Jerusalem.  The point is that there were, and always have been, non-Israelite people in the city and in the region, long before the Israelite people laid claim to it.  

As Peter introduced us to the history of Jerusalem, we talked about how Saul was the first king of the United Monarchy, the first of three monarchs:  Saul, David, and Solomon.  Saul established “The High Place,” his family place, as the seat of his kingdom.  That showed a preference for his own tribe.  David, on the other hand, established the capital in Hebron in the South, and then moved it to Jerusalem.  Jerusalem was on the border of the tribes of Benjamin and Judah, thereby showing no tribal preference and attempting to unite the Kingdom.  But this City of David is near the Hechom (Gushing) spring, in Jerusalem.

We looked at 2 Samuel 24:21-24.  There we saw David coming to Arauh’s threshing floor.  What was interesting was the land.  Even a covenant does not automatically give you the land; you still have to respect and negotiate with the people who are there.  We were told that Araunah is the place where the Dome of the Rock sits.

We talked a bit about the traditional theological issues dividing Muslims and Christians.  Specifically,  in the Muslim tradition, the son Abraham was about to sacrifice was the firstborn (you always sacrifice the firstborn or the first fruits.  See Cain and Abel), who was Ishmael.  In the Judeo-Christian tradition, we believe Abraham was about to sacrifice Isaac. We Christians believe that Jesus is the first-born son of God, and Jesus was the sacrifice for all humankind.

We looked at the Solomonic temple mount, and Peter talked about the significance of placing the temple on a raised platform, but I wasn’t paying attention. 

Next we walked on to the Garden of Gethsemane.  This was a different spot than the one we normally go into, and we didn’t have the opportunity to celebrate Communion here.  The spot we went to was Dominus Flentius, our “Our Lord Wept.”  Here we read Luke 19: 35 – 38 or so…  In the earlier passage Luke 2:14), the angels proclaimed, “Glory to God in the Highest, and on Earth peace…”  In this passage, the angels proclaimed, “Peace in Heaven and glory in the high places….” The Pharisees, told him to rebuke the disciples, Jesus said “If these remained silent, the stones would cry out…”  and then Jesus looked out over the City of Jerusalem and wept over it, saying (v. 42) “if you, even you, had discerned in this day the things having to do with peace – but now they have been hid from your eyes.” 

All the above is what is commemorated in this Dominus Flentius spot. 

We spent some quiet time in the Garden, took some pics, and then went into the Chapel.  I couldn’t help myself --- the acoustics were AWESOME, and while I didn’t sing it, I had to at least hum “I Come to the Garden Alone.”  Everybody was sitting there, and while I didn’t want to intrude on anyone else’s worship experience, the acoustics WERE awesome.  So while I’m sitting there humming, I’m wondering about people who get slain in the spirit.  I wonder what would happen if they got slain in the spirit on marble floors like these.  Inquiring minds and all.  I mean people say the Holy Spirit will never let anything happen to its children, but if that’s the case, how come humans always run to cover up women who get slain in the spirit?  If they’re really slain in the spirit, shouldn’t the Holy Spirit keep them covered?

So while I’m in the midst of these deep thoughts, a group of Africans came in.  They didn’t fall out, but they did fall on their knees, some prostrated themselves, and they filled the church with their audible prayers.  By this time our group had left, but again I wondered how we could have sat there in such a place and not at least sing, so I hung with the Africans for a while.  I was about to leave, since they were half praying and half taking pictures, but then their leader led a prayer.  So I prayed with them and then I left.  I saw them outside, and they were all greeting me with “Shalom.”  They were all dressed in purple and gold from the same material, and they looked awesome.  I was proud of my peoples.  J

We walked to the foot of the Mount of Olives and met our driver.  Then we went to the Israel Museum.  We saw the 2^nd Temple Model, which looks at ancient Jerusalem from the point of view of the Mount of Olives.  Since we’d just seen the real thing with our own eyes, this model made a whole lot more sense this time around.  In another 4-5 visits, I might be able to fully comprehend it.  Met an old couple there – they were from California, doing Israel on their own.  He was born in Germany and they moved here; he’d worked in his own business and had retired, then had volunteered with SCORE for 20 years, and was now making a return trip to Israel.  We talked about it, and about economics in the US.  He thought he was too old to relocate to Israel, but he was admiring it.  There was a gleam in his eye that comes, I think, from thinking you’re seeing a place for the last time.  It was a pleasure spending time with him.

When I returned to our group, the question came up, “who killed Jesus?”  Peter’s answer was that we don’t really know, and that it doesn’t really matter.  We are all complicit, we are all in need of God’s Grace, and Salvation is available to all.  Jesus Christ’s Blood was shed for all.

Then we went into the Shrine of the Book, where the Dead Sea Scrolls are kept.  Or at least parts of them.  I saw a bunch at the exhibit in San Diego years ago.  It talks about the Essenes, and about Qumran, where we’ll visit in the next couple of days.  But as I read the scrolls, I noted that Jewish people acknowledge that some ancient writings have been preserved in Christianity but not in Judaism (the scrolls support these texts, and the folks who created the exhibit called it “ironic” that Christians have preserved these writings).  I saw earlier that the canon of the Tanakh wasn’t finalized until sometime in the first 3 centuries of the Common Era; possibly a couple hundred years earlier than the Christian canon (at most).  And remember, some of these writings they refer to are canonized or extra-canonical in other Christian denominations.  Then I saw a scroll about the Sons of Light and the Sons of Darkness, which seems to sort of describe the apocalyptic battle in Revelation.

And while it is not PC to say, it occurred to me that Christianity is, indeed, a continuation of the Jewish belief set. 

We had dinner at the Tent restaurant.  Another feast like lunch. I’ll link the pictures to the posts later.  We’re off to the Temple Mount and the Old City tomorrow.   We went to Johnny’s tonight and got some souvenirs.  Not sure how I’m getting everything home, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.   Right now I’m going to bed.    As long as this post is, it doesn’t begin to describe the rich experiences I’m having here.  And yes, I’m on my cane, but I climbed the Herodian today. 

Another wonderful day, Thanks be to God!!

Oh.  And when I left this morning, Bertolucci, the Italian PM, was definitely not resigning. Now he is.  And we were all wondering why Obama concedes to Israel like he does. A leaked tape has Sarkosky, the French PM, stating he can’t work with Netanyahu anymore because Netanyahu is a liar, and it has Obama saying something like “You can’t take it? I have to deal with him every day.”  I know it’s sticky for him diplomatically, but that leaked tape gives me renewed hope, both in our President, and in the possibility of peace and justice in the Middle East.  It lets me know at the very least that our President is aware of what he’s dealing with.  I can only hope that he has a plan, and that his plan is aligned with God’s plan…

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.

November 7, 2011 – Out of Egypt

It’s about 11 pm, and hard to believe we began the day in Egypt. But we did, leaving St. Katherine’s about 6 am, after a typical Egyptian breakfast – omelettes, boiled eggs, a variety of cheeses, something I call tzatziki that Peter thinks isn’t (it’s made with a stiffer Greek yogurt, is all), rolls, veggies (tomatoes and cukes at every meal), and I don’t remember what else.  It all runs together. I remember stopping for gas, because I had a conversation with one of the guys.  They only have two octane grades:  90 and 95.  We in the US have three:  80-something, regular; 89, the medium one; and 94(?), which is high test.  But then, Egyptian gas is state subsidized.  We didn’t stop long;  our goal was to get to the border at Taba early enough that we’d miss the lines. 

We missed most of them.  There was one huge Indian tour group in front of us, and that seemed to take a lot of time.  The border guard, though, was very nice and of the seven of us, I think only one actually had their bags checked.  We got through immigration with no problem, though I made a point of “innocently” telling the guy that we were going to Bethlehem, Jesus’ birthplace (the Israelis hate the thought of tourists going to the West Bank), and that while it was OK for him to check the box for “tourism,” this was really much more for me.  Of course, when I told him it wasn’t my first trip to Israel, he checked me out, and when he found out it was my third trip, and when I kept telling him about how this was the place where Jesus lived and that it was important, he did his best to keep his composure and quickly got me the heck out of his window.

I got a coffee “American” (that didn’t have any milk in it) at the snack bar. That and an ice cream bar came to 20 NIS (New Israelis Shekels, about 6 bucks), which was exactly what I had left in my wallet-belt-thingy from last year.  So that was cool. 

We walked forever to get past all the traffic on the Israeli side of the border (it’s still Eid, so it’s a big Muslim holiday), and got to our Israeli driver.  He’s not Israeli, I don’t think (or if he is, he’s an Israeli Arab); he’s our driver while in Israel.  We went along the coast of the Red Sea, with Peter pointing out all the geography:  the salt mines, the Transjordanian Mountains, the Wadis, Ein Gedi, and so on.  We zipped past Lot’s Wife, and I assured the group I’d share with them my pics from last time.  We stopped at the Dead Sea, though I was the only one who got in.  It was a bit chilly, but a) I like it; b) I thought it might help my knees, and c) I wanted a photo op with my Harlem Y swim cap.  The changing room has changed to a tent, and the towels and lockers you usually rent didn’t seem to be there, but Ruth and Richard were kind enough to hold my things and take pics for the short time I was in there, and it was hot enough that you could air dry.

We had lunch – I had falafel, hummus, and cappuccino, and then we took off.  We tried to go to Masada, but it was closed. Which was just as well, since I wasn’t all that into it.  Not that I’ve seen everything there is to see at or know about Masada, just that I’d really like to hike it next time I go, and I don’t believe that will be on this journey.  We will return there, but I don’t think I’ll hike it.  Then we tried to go to Qumran, but the same thing happened.  We had a long talk about the Essenes and the Zealots, with me putting forth that the Essenes were ascetics and Peter understanding only the social distance part of being ascetic and therefore not agreeing.  I think the evidence shows that the Essenes denied themselves bodily comforts to enough of a degree that they could be categorized as ascetics.

So we journeyed on into Bethlehem.  We’re not in the Sancta Maria, we’re in the Mount David hotel, at the top of Manger Street. It’s brand new. Oh. My. Goodness.  First of all, there is consistent, relatively high-speed (DSL rate, it looks like) internet access, it’s wireless, and it’s FREE.  The rooms are huge, beautifully appointed, and appear comfortable.  I’ve been so busy writing, calling people on Skype, and posting pics that I haven’t even turned on the TV.

We went out and walked around Bethlehem.  I was happy to go to Johnny’s and have him recognize me as soon as I walked in the door. We went and found a store, and a pharmacy and a couple of ATMs.  The people are sooo friendly, traffic’s a breeze after Cairo, and I’m feeling the love. 

I could probably write and reflect more, but I’ma go to bed now.  We’re up at 7-ish to leave at 8 and do the Bethlehem walking tour in the morning, and the Israel Museum in the afternoon.  I’ve done them both, but every time I re-visit things on this trip, I learn more. 

And what I’m learning right now is how to shut things off and go to bed. More later.

I am hurting like I have never hurt before.

Today is Sunday, November 6.  I am in St. Katherine’s Village, near St. Katherine’s Monastery, at the foot of Mt. Sinai in Egypt.  Although I am hurting like I have never hurt before, I am EXCITED, HAPPY and GRATEFUL!!!  Why?  BECAUSE I CLIMBED MT. SINAI TODAY, ALL THE WAY UP THE 752 STEPS.  That's starting at a mile high, climbing about 3000 more feet, and then going up 752 steps.  Which are more like piles of rocks.   And yes, I’m shouting. It’s something to be shout about, IMHO. 

Unlike skydiving, climbing Mt. Sinai is not something I ever have to do again.  This was sort of my last chance, so I’m incredibly grateful to have had the opportunity to complete it!  And what a workout it was.  I do kettlebells twice a week and swim twice a week.  I thought I was in decent, or at least acceptable, shape.  And maybe I am, for a middle-aged, urban African-American woman.  For a citizen of the world, however, I may not be in the best of shape.   People come from all over the world to climb Mt. Sinai, with the vast majority of them going up in the middle of the night, watching the sun rise, and coming down early in the morning.  We left about 9:30 in the morning.  While the rest of the group reached the top waaay before I did, I got up there about 1:30.  It was like doing the stairmaster on level 10 for four hours.  Early on, I realized I couldn’t keep pace with the group. I do need to thank them:  Peter, Kristen, Hoyt and Mary Margaret, and Ruth and Richard.  Without them, it’s unlikely I would have made it.  Sometimes the Grace of God, along with properly positioned people, can help you get to places you couldn’t get to alone.  But they were all way in front of me.  While they seemed reluctant to leave me, I didn’t want them always having to wait around for me.  I seem to work better at short intervals, not at a sustained strenuous workout.  Which is fine, if you have the option.  But if you’re on a 45 degree incline (oh, and did I mention you start at 5,000 feet above sea level and climb for another 3,000 feet) – if you’re on a 45 degree incline, you can’t change the incline, so you have to take rests more often. 

At least that’s what I did.  By the time I passed Elijah’s Basin, I was pretty much whipped.  But my cellphone signal went out and I had no way of reaching the group leader to tell him I couldn’t feel my legs, so I had to keep going.  Past Elijah’s Basin is where the 752 steps begin, and where we had to stop last year.  Of course, I’m without my group and have no idea where I’m going.  The steps aren’t really steps like we know them, they’re just rocks piled on top of each other.  So one group of rocks piled on top of another looked like another group, and before you knew it, I was rock climbing instead of walking the steps.  Fortunately, one of the Bedouin guys saw me and steered me in the right direction.

 I have to say this was the most physically challenging thing I’ve ever done.  The altitude, the pitch of the mountain, the unevenness of the rocks – they all contributed to an incredible unsteadiness.  And when you’re that high up and there’s not banisters or any other type of barriers to prevent you from falling, well….  I took my cane, which was the only way I was able to complete the journey.  Lots of women my age were coming down as we came up, and they also had canes, but I had the feeling they used theirs only for the Mt. Sinai climb.  Still, I’m happy I had it, and happier that it helped me in my climbing.

As I went up, I was thinking there’s probably a sermon and/or a teachable moment in the fact that when we’re trying to make some sort of spiritual ascent or spiritual growth, that the situation may be more difficult than we think we can handle.  The song “rough side of the mountain” certainly came into my mind on more than one occasion.  At one point, when I thought I couldn’t make it any more, I pulled out my iPhone and started with my workout playlist.  That had just a little more funk in it than I wanted to hear going up the side of Mt. Sinai (not because of any false piety, misplaced reverence,  or anything like that – without my group with me, the Mountain is an incredibly beautiful, majestic, and fairly solitary place.  Funk just didn’t fit right then, for me.) – that had a little more funk in it than I wanted to hear right then, so since it was Sunday and this was my act of worship, I put on my Sunday morning mix.  Brooklyn Tabernacle’s “I never lost my praise” encouraged me.  I tried singing along with it, but my body realized I was at way over 5,000 feet and climbing a mountain, so it didn’t really cooperated.  I then tried to dance with it, but the same thing happened.  So I held it in my head for a minute, and then began to praise God as I climbed the side of the mountain.

Of course, by the time I reached the steps, I was a mess.  I had claimed the ascent in my head, but my body just wasn’t cooperating.  It was like you’d climb a set of steps, thinking this had to be it, because you couldn’t see anything above you but sky, and then at the top they’d switch back to another set of steps.  I found myself going “please, God, let this end,” and I realized that sometimes it’s stupid to pray prayers like that.  After all, if I’d lost my balance and fallen off the mountain right then,  the ordeal would have ended, but so would my life.  Sometimes, you don’t need to pray for a specific outcome.  You need to pray for strength to do God’s will, or strength to act or behave in such a way that God will be glorified.  Then you need to make your best effort, and leave the results to God.

That’s what I did today, and that’s one of the things I’m learning on this pilgrimage.  Cuz let’s face it :  I’m an American.  In the overall scheme of things, my life has been pretty good.  That’s why this sort of strenuous physical activity is so taxing on my body – I’m not really accustomed to it.  And the way I react when things don’t go my way is that I usually get annoyed or upset or I just tune out.  I didn’t really have that option today.  That mountain was KICKING MY BEHIND, and my only option was to continue climbing.  Even if I had chosen to quit, I STILL HAD TO CLIMB DOWN THE MOUNTAIN!  So there was a good lesson for me.

 Another lesson came at the top of the mountain.  My group wanted me to come, but didn’t know if I was going to make it or not (all of this is not due to being out of shape, btw – my knee is a mess, and the orthovisc and cortisone shots, while they helped temporarily, did not relieve all the pain.  I’m using topical Voltaren and Voltaren pills (Voltaren is an antirheumatic, anti-inflammatory, analgesic.  It’s available by prescription in the US, but you can get it over the counter here), I have something like BenGay and something like Icy Hot.  I’m still in pain.).  So when I finally did make it up to the top and my group was all rejoicing, I had to give props to God.  It certainly wasn’t my power or my might that got me up that mountain, it was the grace of God.  In most of the pictures taken of me at the top of Mt. Sinai, I’m pointing a finger up, acknowledging that it’s not about me, it’s about God.  And like I said before, sometimes God, along with properly positioned people, can help you get to places you didn’t think you could get to.

 

The view from the top of the mountain was fairly anticlimactic.  There’s a church there (we couldn’t, or didn’t go in), and there’s a view of over into Saudi Arabia, and up into Egypt.  And there’s the feeling that you’ve done something that is truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I say anticlimactic; on the tape I said “boring.”  It’s actually neither, it’s just a whole lot of mountains, which you’ve just spent four hours looking at.  It’s not the view, it’s the experience.  Like we said about this whole pilgrimage thing, it’s not the external stuff, it’s the internal, the relational stuff, that’s transformative.

If coming up was challenging, coming down was even more so.  Thankfully I’ve been working the quads; otherwise I probably wouldn’t have made it.  I had to come down very slowly, and very carefully, leaning on the cane.  Which makes me realize that we have to be careful what we lean on or use for support.  If I had tried to lean on a cane that was placed on slipping sand, or on an uneven rock, that would have been a disaster.  And even though I’d done all this work getting up the mountain, and even though I could be happy and grateful at this once in a lifetime achievement that was a gift from God, guess what?  To make it off the mountaintop, to get back to life as I knew it, I still had to face the same pitch of the mountain, still had to face the same slippery sand, and rocks in the road, and still had to avoid the same (or new) camel dung on the road.  It doesn’t matter where you’ve been to in life, or even where you’re going – to get from here to there, you have to keep your eyes on the prize, yes – but you also have to keep your eyes on the Road, or the Way that you are traveling. 

We always stop at what I call the CamelStop Tea House.  When climbing up the mountain, it’s the last stop that the camels make, and is the last tea house before you start the steps.  My friend Dale W. told me about it on his first trip to Egypt, so when I went, I had a cup of tea there.  He went back on his second trip, and I’ve now gone back on my second trip.  I talked to the guy, Soleman, in the tea house.  He says he remembers Dale.  But what’s really cool about this Bedouin guy who has a tea house (pretty much a lean to with a wood fire inside and some blankets on benches) – is that he has a facebook account.  As soon as I get proper internet access, I’m going to friend him.  He friends lots of people, and is slowly but surely growing his business that way, I believe.  He’s a very nice and hospitable guy, whose tea really is remarkable; the whole thing of a Bedouin who lives on Mt. Sinai and has a Facebook account is not only practical, but catchy enough that people will remember him.

Anyway, it’s now dinnertime.  Gotta go meet my group. 

I forgot to say that I got all the clothes I’ve worn since I’ve been here, all washed and folded for under $10.00.  It’s 9:30 now.  Usually I shower in the morning, but I’ve had a nice hot shower and have put that ben-gay like stuff on me.  Turning in now; we rise at 5 am to eat breakfast, leave by 6, and head into Israel.  Time permitting, the group will go to Masada (I’ve been twice; I think I’ll pass), and possibly to the Dead Sea and/or Qumran.  Then we’re on into Bethlehem for the next 2 or 3 days, then to Petra, then back to Amman, and back to the US.  We’re only halfway done, and I’m having a ball!

I give God thanks for an amazing day!!!

Egyptian Museum and into Sinai

November 5 – Egyptian Museum and into Sinai

Since I don’t have a whole lot to say about today, I’ll start with last night.  I don’t post regularly because I gave up on the Zosser Hotel and their internet scam.  They say they’ll sell you time to use the internet, but if you were to buy it, I imagine the time would start at the moment of purchase and you’d later discover the internet “isn’t working.” I say this because I read it in a review of the hotel, and it matches my experience there.

 You say you want the internet (which is $10.00 US per HOUR), and they tell you you have to buy a card.  I asked them how I would activate the card, since I didn’t plan to use it at that moment.  This seemed to confuse them a little, after which time they told me the internet “wasn’t working,” but that I could use it in the office manager’s office.  The first night he  let me use it for free; the second night they wanted me to pay so I didn’t use it, and the third night they offered to let me use it for free and I paid them the hour’s fee (any problems you may have attempting to use their computers, which are roughly of the same quality as one I’d give away in the States, are, of course, charged to your time).

Afterwards, my leg was hurting and I really wanted to try to get something to help me sleep so I wouldn’t be up writing at 1 am when I need to get up at 6.  So I asked the guy at the desk where there was a pharmacy within walking distance.  He told me he would call someone.  He got the guy on the phone, and I told him what ailed me.  I have the Voltaren ointment; he told me I should try it in the tablets AND ointment.  I asked if he had any Ambien, and and he said he had something for sleep.  It was, he said, like Xanax, just to help me drift to sleep.  After getting his assurance that it wouldn’t kill me, I asked for the price, which he said was 20LE.  AND THEN HE ASKED ME FOR MY ROOM NUMBER AND SAID HE WOULD BRING IT TO ME!!!!  Sure enough, in about 20-30 minutes, the phone rang, I went downstairs, and got my meds.  Instead of 20LE, of course, it was 32LE – a little over $5.00.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have 32LE, and he wouldn’t take dollars.  The front desk claimed not to have any money to change for me, SO THE FRONT DESK PAID THE TAB. Then they added it to my bill, with no surcharges or anything.  I asked him about a tip.  He didn’t, he said, tip the guy because he didn’t have enough change.

So I went to bed.  I took two of the Voltaren and one of the Xanax.  I think I went to sleep fairly quickly. What I know is that this morning when my alarm rang at 5:45, I fell back asleep before the 6:30 wakeup call.  Usually I wake up about 3, toss and turn for a while, then wake up about 5:30, wait for the alarm to go off, then piddle until the 6:30 wakeup call.  Today, I slept!

We went to the Egyptian Museum.  Walid told us every detail about every dynasty.  I guess if I’m really interested, I’ll look it up.  What interests me most is the archaeological evidence placing some sort of Hebraic or Canaanite people in Egypt.  It’s interesting that some of the historical evidence can be traced back to Abraham, and to Jacob, including finding their final resting places.  Somehow, it doesn’t much matter to me if the timeline is off from what the Jewish oral narratives or our western-constructed narratives have determined.  It just doesn’t matter to me.  I understand that in the telling and telling and re-telling of a story, there will be biases, so that we arrive at a state where Jewish people think they’re God’s Chosen people because of God’s promise to Abraham, where Muslims consider Jewish people to be haughty cousins who’ve co-opted the promise made to their mutual ancestor Abraham, and where Christians feel fully grafted on to the tree of Abraham. I think those are personal (as in people-based) issues and do not affect nor impact the truth of the Holy Scriptures.  The fact that, despite Peter’s negation thereof, there does appear to be archaeological evidence supporting the Biblical narrative, if not the precise (re)construction of the Biblical timeline – well, that’s nothing less than confirmation of the truth of God’s presence as revealed in God’s loveletter to us, God’s Holy Scriptures.

Perhaps because he lives in Jerusalem for so much time each year, my friend Peter sometimes appears to have a distaste for all things Jewish.  I sincerely doubt that’s the issue.  I believe that his passion to disprove commonly accepted thoughts about Jewish genesis presents a sort of unbalanced picture. Or maybe it’s just the fact that he lives in an apartheid state, is aware of it, and is frustrated by it.  As anyone whose read my blog on a regular knows, I have no love for the modern-day nation of Israel.  It’s a bully who uses lies and coercion to capitalize upon and redirect the world’s sympathy towards atrocities committed against Jewish people – it uses lies and coercion to commit similar atrocities  against people who are not Jewish.  That’s wrong, and indignation against those actions is justified, as is indignation against Israel’s thumbing its nose at the rest of the world and continuing to occupy territories that do not properly belong to it.  Israel does a lot of vile stuff.  That doesn’t negate the history of the Jewish people. 

And yes, Israel is using its right to define who is Jewish in order to populate a land it’s co-opting and fill it with people of European descent, all in the guise of being “Jewish,” when they’re so markedly different from the other Semitic people in the region.  It’s wrong, it’s ironic, and it needs to be spoken upon, but that doesn’t mean we need to re-write history to invalidate everything referring to Jewish people.  It means we need to examine what’s in front of us, and acknowledge the biases we bring to the table, so we can be aware of them when we’re examining new evidence.

So.  What was really cool about the Egyptian museum was the fact that I took about 20 pictures inside.  You should just never take my camera when I’m being a tourist and tell me I can’t take pictures.  I’m like a cop.  I always have a spare squirreled away somewhere.  I got some pictures of the gold crypts King Tutankhamen was in, and I got some pics of the Fayyoum funeral masks (which portrays the great diversity of hair texture and skin color among first century people from the middle east).

Half the group went to see the mummies in the Egyptian museum.  I’d had my fill of dead people’s remains, preferring instead to take the short walk over to Tahrir Square.  Again with the vendors.  Guys actually stopped cabs in the street to try to get fares.  Of course, it is the beginning of the Eid, and Cairo was effectively empty.  That was probably the most notable thing of the day.  We took pics of Tahrir Square, came back, and were on our way.

As we headed to Sinai, we went through the tunnel under the Suez canal.  When we cross from Cairo into Sinai, we move from Africa into Western Asia.  We went in through  the Ahmed Hamdi Tunnel, and made our way down the red sea.  We were going to stop at the Springs of Moses, but instead we went to a deserted little spot along the shore of the Red Sea.  It was just north of Abu Zenima.  We could put our toes in the water, we saw some caves, and we saw the Pharoah’s Springs – some natural warm water springs. In my pics, I tried to capture the steam rising off the water as it ran into the Red Sea, but it doesn’t look like I was successful.  We saw a group of guys coming out of one of the caverns from which the water came out – they came out fully clothed, though all wet.  We went to the entrance, but didn’t dare go all the way inside to where the water was.  Just going to the entrance and sitting on the rocks was good, though – it felt like a sauna.

From the shore of the Red Sea, we climbed about 5,000 feet to St. Katherine’s village.  We made excellent time, getting from Cairo to here, with 3 stops, including about half an hour at the hot springs.  We made the whole trip, which normally should have been 8 hours, in about 7 and a half hours.  And that was at night, which I wasn’t really crazy about.  It’s bad enough climbing these hills and being on these highways in the daytime.  Night time is not an option I ever would have chosen, but it was interesting.  I noticed that when two trucks are about to meet each other, they’ll flash their high beams from a distance (like we used to do on US highways, back when driving was civil).  Then, as they approach each other (there’s always curves, so when they’ve both cleared the curves and are coming straight at each other), they go down to their parking lights.  I’m assuming this is to not blind each other, as sometimes you have trucks that sit high and cars that are low, but I saw it with trucks, cars, and vans.  And then I saw a couple of people be really obnoxious and not dim their high beams at all.  It looked to me, though, that the cutting off of the lights was an interesting combination of courtesy and safety.

The effect of the sleeping pill was that I slept through much of the day today.   I missed a lot of the discussion, as people are having their eyes opened to things they may not have thought about or may have taken literally in the Bible.  That’s not news for me, since I’ve been studying the Bible from non-traditional viewpoints for the past 10 or so years.  But the takeaway for today was about pilgrimage.  This trip we’re on, these trips I’ve been taking for the third year now, are not sight-seeing or shopping tours.  One of the places where I often hesitate is in encouraging my Christian friends to go on these trips.  After all,  I know many of my friends because we’ve spent time staying in fancy hotels and doing all the stuff that comes with that.  But that’s not what these trips are.  We don’t stay in real fancy hotels on these trips; we stay in sparse, functional places.  While we do shop, it’s not the focus of our trips.  We don’t just go to shop.  There’s a reason for that, which is not completely economic.  These trips are Christian Pilgrimages.  Pilgrimage, we are told is an investigation of what went on in Scripture.  Its purpose is to make ones faith more concrete, and less abstract. It always includes worship and interaction with the local, indigenous people, but it doesn’t stop there. Pilgrimage, it seems to me, is not only about the external journey, but about the internal journey. As much as it is about destinations, Pilgrimage is also about relationships.  Pilgrimage includes journeying in both the vertical and the horizontal relationships.  Smarter people than me have said that God sits at the intersection of the vertical relationship (humans’ relationship with the Divine) and the horizontal relationship (humans’ relationships with each other).  Pilrimage, it seems, highlights that intersection in IMAX-3D.  What have I discovered on this journey about my relationship with God?  What have I discovered about my relationship with others?  What have I discovered about my own Christian maturity?  What have I discovered that will empower me to share the Good News of the Gospel of Jesus Christ? 

I’m going to bed now.  We will rise whenever we rise, and have breakfast between 7 and 8:30, then we’ll take off up Mt. Sinai at 9.  I am not at all convinced that I’ll even start the journey, let alone complete it.  And I’m ok with that.  My ego doesn’t have to climb Mt. Sinai.  It’s not about the destination.  It’s about the journey. 

Some people will start out climbing tonight, anywhere between 10 pm and 1 or 2 am.  They like to climb at night, so they can see the sun rise from the top of Mt. Sinai.  I had reservations about coming 5,000 feet in a car in the dark.  There’s no way I’d attempt to climb an additional 3,000 feet on foot in the dark.  But I pray God will bless and keep them, and that they will meet God in an IMAX, 3D, Surround Sound intersection!

Reflections on our second day of Pyramids

Today we went to the Step, Red, and Bent Pyramids.  We visited Saqqar, and saw the burial tomb of Te.  Those who were so inclined climbed up and went inside the Red pyramid. Interestingly, no one who’d ever been there before chose to go up. The group who came down didn’t find it as horrible smelling as I did last year.

While I was sitting outside waiting for the group to come down, a fat Egyptian guard (national park guard) on foot came up, positioned himself between me and the guys in the van, and surreptitiously asked me to give him money.  I smiled and waved him off.   Then another guard came up on a camel.  He sort of parked himself in front of me, posing.  I ignored him.  He paraded his camel back and forth in front of me.  I watched him.  Finally, when it became clear I wasn’t going to ask him, he motioned and asked me if I wanted to take a picture.  I declined.  He hung out for a few minutes, then was on his way.

That story repeated itself at Darshur (where the Bent Pyramid is).  That would actually have been a great photo op, since the camel had an automatic weapon in the gear on its side.  I could not, of course, resist, and took a picture anyway; I just didn’t pay for it.  The same thing happened inside the Tomb of Te.  The guy (who last year forbade us from taking pictures) this year said we could, for a fee.  We declined, and proceeded to take pictures anyway.

Look, I get it that 20% of the country’s revenue comes from tourism, and that tourism has dropped some 90% since the uprising.  I get that.  I feel for people.  But I resent being extorted. At the end of the day, it seems, if tourism is your business and you want people to come back to your country, you need to offer them some sort of service that they actually need, instead of offering to polish people’s sneakers in the desert.  More on that later.  But you can’t just beg and extort money from people and have any expectation they’ll want to return to your country.  Egypt, if you’re going to be self-sufficient, you’re going to have to realize that.  So I didn’t pay to take pictures; I took them anyway. 

I know people think Americans are rich, but I’m not.  I had to save all year to come on this trip.  We are required to pay for an entry visa.  We are required to have tour guides and an armed guard.  All this is added into the cost of our trip.  And I spoke yesterday about the 25LE cappuccino.  Everybody tries to get money from you at every turn, and at some point, you just have to stop it. My money’s not limitless. Go hit up your Saudi brothers.

We went back to Khan el-Khalili bazaar.  You literally cannot walk down the streets without people running up to you  -- I wear leather sneakers, and no less than 10 guys approached me today, wanting to shine my sneakers.  Really?  And when I told them my sneakers were fine, they tried to tell me they weren’t.  OK.  I’ve been walking through the desert all day.  You have one box of polish, no water, and you want to shine my shoes?  My sneakers?  Are you serious, dude?  It’s a big feast day here, and the Bazaar has a mosque on the corner.  It’s full of people coming, I guess for the feast day.  But along with the mosque are people looking for others to make zakat (alms giving, one of the five pillars of Islam).  Which means you are faced on every side with people desperately trying to sell things and people begging.  While it’s annoying, it’s also heart-wrenching. It’s heart-wrenching to see the little children being used as props for their parents’ begging.  It’s heart-wrenching to see grown men throwing away common decency trying to get you to buy something.  I wanted some little statuettes of the pyramids.  They were going for a dollar at the Great Pyramids.  There’s 6 Egyptian Pounds to the dollar.  So I walk into a shop and ask a guy for one.  He quotes me 250 LE (Egyptian Pounds). I of course, walked out.  No  conversation.  He calls back, $10.00.  I told him he was nuts.  Finally he went down to ten pounds.  I told him ok.  Then he wanted $10.00.  I walked away again.  He came after me. I gave him his 10 pounds and got my statue.  I later went back and got another one, and we laughed about it.  But if I hadn’t known what I wanted to pay, I coulda gotten hit for 250LE.  In general, we’re told to start bargaining with them at 1/10 of the price they suggest.  You always know you’ve lowballed them if you try to walk away and they let you.  And since every vendor is selling the same thing, if you do happen to lowball somebody, you just go to the next one and make a better offer.

I actually bought some more papyrus.  The quality varies, but I got it from the same guy, Tony, that I got them from last year.  I got 10 or 12 papyrii, plus a couple of Eye of Horus papyri, plus a bigger one.  And I paid him a bit more than half of his first “good deal for you my friend” offer.  I have pictures this year just like last year, of me sitting in his shop going through the papyrii.  Only this year, he brought us all tea and sodas.  And this year we also bought some very nice myrrh and lotus flower oils, for a very good price.  Tony’s cool.

After the bazaar, we came back and met for a while.  We’re looking at what happens as we discover a disconnect between what we discover archaeologically and the history as told in the Scriptures.  I won’t go so far as Peter and suggest that the Bible is “wrong;”  I believe that as we grow in wisdom, knowledge, and understanding, that we learn more about the environment in which the Scriptures were written.  This wisdom, knowledge and understanding helps to better inform our Biblical scholarship.  The Bible is not a literal document.  It is, however, a true document.  The fact that we may not always have the necessary keys to unlock its truths does not make it any less true.

So we sat and talked about that, as well as about all the things we’ve seen and how they’ve impacted us.  We talked about the devastating poverty, about Egypt’s political future, about Egypt’s social services, about US government and its social services, about generational dependency, and about how we can motivate/encourage/teach/train people to do better.

The conversation continued on into the evening, with us coming to agreement that the Holy Spirit has to inform our work and our witness.

I’m sure the conversation will continue on.

Last night we crossed the street in Cairo!  Kristen and I ventured across the street.  The doorman from the hotel took us by the hand and helped us cross, but we came back on our own.  Tonight Peter and I went out after dinner.  We both got Vodafone recharge cards.  I also got another of the little pyramid thingies, and Peter got oils. 

I’m going to pack; tomorrow we do the Egyptian Museum, then head to the Sinai.  It will be an evening trip.  That should be interesting….

Thursday, November 3 - Pyramids

Reflections on our second day of Pyramids




Today we went to the Step, Red, and Bent Pyramids. We visited Saqqar, and saw the burial tomb of Te. Those who were so inclined climbed up and went inside the Red pyramid. Interestingly, no one who’d ever been there before chose to go up. The group who came down didn’t find it as horrible smelling as I did last year.



While I was sitting outside waiting for the group to come down, a fat Egyptian guard (national park guard) on foot came up, positioned himself between me and the guys in the van, and surreptitiously asked me to give him money. I smiled and waved him off. Then another guard came up on a camel. He sort of parked himself in front of me, posing. I ignored him. He paraded his camel back and forth in front of me. I watched him. Finally, when it became clear I wasn’t going to ask him, he motioned and asked me if I wanted to take a picture. I declined. He hung out for a few minutes, then was on his way.



That story repeated itself at Darshur (where the Bent Pyramid is). That would actually have been a great photo op, since the camel had an automatic weapon in the gear on its side. I could not, of course, resist, and took a picture anyway; I just didn’t pay for it. The same thing happened inside the Tomb of Te. The guy (who last year forbade us from taking pictures) this year said we could, for a fee. We declined, and proceeded to take pictures anyway.



Look, I get it that 20% of the country’s revenue comes from tourism, and that tourism has dropped some 90% since the uprising. I get that. I feel for people. But I resent being extorted. At the end of the day, it seems, if tourism is your business and you want people to come back to your country, you need to offer them some sort of service that they actually need, instead of offering to polish people’s sneakers in the desert. More on that later. But you can’t just beg and extort money from people and have any expectation they’ll want to return to your country. Egypt, if you’re going to be self-sufficient, you’re going to have to realize that. So I didn’t pay to take pictures; I took them anyway.



I know people think Americans are rich, but I’m not. I had to save all year to come on this trip. We are required to pay for an entry visa. We are required to have tour guides and an armed guard. All this is added into the cost of our trip. And I spoke yesterday about the 25LE cappuccino. Everybody tries to get money from you at every turn, and at some point, you just have to stop it. My money’s not limitless. Go hit up your Saudi brothers.



We went back to Khan el-Khalili bazaar. You literally cannot walk down the streets without people running up to you -- I wear leather sneakers, and no less than 10 guys approached me today, wanting to shine my sneakers. Really? And when I told them my sneakers were fine, they tried to tell me they weren’t. OK. I’ve been walking through the desert all day. You have one box of polish, no water, and you want to shine my shoes? My sneakers? Are you serious, dude? It’s a big feast day here, and the Bazaar has a mosque on the corner. It’s full of people coming, I guess for the feast day. But along with the mosque are people looking for others to make zakat (alms giving, one of the five pillars of Islam). Which means you are faced on every side with people desperately trying to sell things and people begging. While it’s annoying, it’s also heart-wrenching. It’s heart-wrenching to see the little children being used as props for their parents’ begging. It’s heart-wrenching to see grown men throwing away common decency trying to get you to buy something. I wanted some little statuettes of the pyramids. They were going for a dollar at the Great Pyramids. There’s 6 Egyptian Pounds to the dollar. So I walk into a shop and ask a guy for one. He quotes me 250 LE (Egyptian Pounds). I of course, walked out. No conversation. He calls back, $10.00. I told him he was nuts. Finally he went down to ten pounds. I told him ok. Then he wanted $10.00. I walked away again. He came after me. I gave him his 10 pounds and got my statue. I later went back and got another one, and we laughed about it. But if I hadn’t known what I wanted to pay, I coulda gotten hit for 250LE. In general, we’re told to start bargaining with them at 1/10 of the price they suggest. You always know you’ve lowballed them if you try to walk away and they let you. And since every vendor is selling the same thing, if you do happen to lowball somebody, you just go to the next one and make a better offer.



I actually bought some more papyrus. The quality varies, but I got it from the same guy, Tony, that I got them from last year. I got 10 or 12 papyrii, plus a couple of Eye of Horus papyri, plus a bigger one. And I paid him a bit more than half of his first “good deal for you my friend” offer. I have pictures this year just like last year, of me sitting in his shop going through the papyrii. Only this year, he brought us all tea and sodas. And this year we also bought some very nice myrrh and lotus flower oils, for a very good price. Tony’s cool.



After the bazaar, we came back and met for a while. We’re looking at what happens as we discover a disconnect between what we discover archaeologically and the history as told in the Scriptures. I won’t go so far as Peter and suggest that the Bible is “wrong;” I believe that as we grow in wisdom, knowledge, and understanding, that we learn more about the environment in which the Scriptures were written. This wisdom, knowledge and understanding helps to better inform our Biblical scholarship. The Bible is not a literal document. It is, however, a true document. The fact that we may not always have the necessary keys to unlock its truths does not make it any less true.



So we sat and talked about that, as well as about all the things we’ve seen and how they’ve impacted us. We talked about the devastating poverty, about Egypt’s political future, about Egypt’s social services, about US government and its social services, about generational dependency, and about how we can motivate/encourage/teach/train people to do better.



The conversation continued on into the evening, with us coming to agreement that the Holy Spirit has to inform our work and our witness.



I’m sure the conversation will continue on.



Last night we crossed the street in Cairo! Kristen and I ventured across the street. The doorman from the hotel took us by the hand and helped us cross, but we came back on our own. Tonight Peter and I went out after dinner. We both got Vodafone recharge cards. I also got another of the little pyramid thingies, and Peter got oils.



I’m going to pack; tomorrow we do the Egyptian Museum, then head to the Sinai. It will be an evening trip. That should be interesting….

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

So it’s Wednesday, November 2, about 10 in the am.  I only have about 20 minutes of battery power left, so this will be quick.  Sitting here in Rome airport waiting for a noon-ish flight to Cairo.  A shame that on my first trip to Rome, I don’t have time to go out and explore the City.  From the airport, it appears to be an interesting cross of the modern with the classical – there’s the train that takes you from terminal to terminal, but the customs check like you have in Asia, where even though you’re switching flights and haven’t gone out of the airport you still need to go through the security scan.  Lots of priests on the flight over, lots of kids, and lots of interesting, character-filled faces.  As a rule, I don’t take pics in airport, because it’s generally not allowed, but I would LOVE to take pics here.  The faces are just so full of character!

The flight over was uneventful.  At JFK, I met an Italian family who’d been to NYC in February 2001 as part of their around-the-world tour when they just got married.  Ten years later, with a 9 year old and a 7 year old, he wanted to show his family American excess.  So they stayed at the Waldorf-Astoria (he’d stayed there with his dad when he was a kid), and he rented a limo for them when they got out of the airplane.  Apparently the stretch limo is a uniquely American indulgence. 

But our whole conversation revolved around how incredibly expensive NYC is.  $5.00 for a bottle of water, they paid upwards of 37.00 for like pizza and sodas.  Speaking of food, the flight over was uneventful.  The in-flight food was some chicken patty with marinara sauce over a bed of pureed either sweet potatoes or butternut squash – something orange – and remarkably good green beans. And a roll and salad and cheese and crackers and a brownie and soda/water/juice/coffee/tea.  I’m always amazed at airline food.  There’s always soooo much of it!

In-flight, I watched Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother, and fell asleep on Planet of the Apes and Zookeeper.  Like I posted on FB, the coolest thing was the USB charger at your seat.  I boarded the plane with an iphone at 76%, and left the plane with a 100% charged iPhone.

Really nothing to write about here in the Rome airport, or maybe I’m just jaded.  It’s an airport, and I’m just making a connection.  I could go see if they’d accept dollars instead of Euros for the breakfast food, but I still have half a sandwich in my pocket.  On the plane, they woke us up to feed us something like an egg McMuffin, but with some kind of weird cheesy spread with green stuff in it instead of the processed cheese we usually eat.  I just had the egg part and some juice.  I am a little hungry, but doubt I’m hungry enough to go change money….

We’ll see.  More after I’m settled in Cairo.

*********************

It’s 10 pm here (4 pm in the States), and I am EXHAUSTED.  Happy, but EXHAUSTED.  I left JFK on Tuesday night. Flew to Rome.  The Alitalia flight from Rome to Cairo was also uneventful.  We had tuna salad, some kind of salad with turkey slices carrots, a tomato, 1 piece of arugula and something that may have been lotus root – it was some whit tuberous veggie.  We had bread, cheese and crackers, and a fruit salad for dessert.

Some people were served shrimp instead of tuna, and they got their bread from a basket that was passed around instead of the individually wrapped pieces we got.  I don’t know if they were some kind of special tour or if maybe the difference between shrimp and tuna was the difference between business and economy classes. 

But the coolest thing about the flight was that the two people who were spozed to sit next to me didn’t show, so I GOT THREE SEATS TO MYSELF.  Oh, God, My God!!!  I just stretched out and had a good ole’ time.  Didn’t care what I looked like – I’m TIDE, tired, and when I got the opportunity to rest, I did it.

Oh.  And Europeans still don’t drink their sodas with ice.  And I don’t like warm soda.

Once I got off the plane in Cairo, a guide named Mohammed was there to meet me.  He took me through getting the Egyptian visa and through customs.  There weren’t a whole lot of people, and very few tourists.  While he went to get the rest of the group, I went over to Vodaphone to buy a sim card for my iphone.  My iphone is jailbroken, so I’ma see if it’s cheaper to use the vodaphone sim card than to use my iphone. I paid a total of 25 Egyptian pounds for the card and 45 MB of data.  That’s less than $4.00.  And I can recharge it.  They say I can use it in the US, so if it works, that might be an alternative to ATT’s prices.  Only problem, of course, is that it has a different phone number.  So I’ll forward my cellphone to my Google Voice number, and use it online. 

We all got to the hotel, and we sat down with Peter.  There’s another single woman, a preacher from a United Methodist Church in Maine.  There’s a couple from Tennessee, and a couple (the husband is a Presbyterian preacher) from Minnesota.  And that’s our group.  It’s gonna be fun.  We have decided we will attempt to climb at least part of Mt. Sinai on Sunday.  That’s all we’re gonna do, and we’ll start at 8:30 in the am.  If I make it, I make it; if I don’t, I will have given it my best shot.

Dinner was a typical Egyptian hotel buffet – there were a bunch of salads, then hot buffet stations with roasted chicken, roasted potatoes, a veggie mix, rice, and fish.  There was a delightful dessert bar, and with the breads was a loaf in the shape of a crocodile (we’re on the Nile).

I’ll post pictures here.

This is Eid Al-something, the time Muslims celebrate Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice Ishmael (think about it.  We Christians and Jews come from the line of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but Ishmael was the outside kid who was put out.  That’s the line the Muslims come from.  It does make sense that we believe Isaac was the sacrifice, and they believe Ishmael was the sacrifice.  It also speaks to the fact that religious stories get re-told, and sacred scriptures get re-written.  Just sayin….).  ANYway, so there’s lots of people here.  Normally it would be fairly empty; tourism has dropped off a lot since the revolution, though Cairo traffic is as crazy as ever. 

I didn’t get a picture of it, but saw some women dressed in white in a car that was decorated with flowers.  “Oh,” I said, “a wedding!”  The guide told me no, these were people on their way to make Hajj, the mandatory pilgrimage to Mecca that all good Muslims have to make.  I think there’s a lot to be said for visiting the sacred places of your faith tradition.  That’s why I scrimp and save and sacrifice every year to come here.  It’s outside of my comfort zone, yes, but it’s soooo worth it!

Let me figure out how to jailbreak my phone, get some internet service, and upload my pics and blog.  Tomorrow we go to the Pyramids, so that should be fun.  I’m told there’s not a lot of people there now, so it should be a lot easier to see everything.  I also learned today that I was, indeed, in Tahrir Square.  That’s where the Egyptian Museum is.  I’ve got a big picture of me out front.  We’ll go there again before the week is over, and I’ll take more.

Of course, this hotel doesn’t have any internet access, so I’m either gonna have to tether my iphone to att or I’m going to have to keep using the internet in the office like I’m doing to upload this….

Oh, well. Beats a blank.

Blessings, everyone!

Salvation

Today in Bible Study, one of my students wanted to know how they could know they are saved. They love the Lord, they said, but couldn't understand how to be sure they were saved. (This conversation started, BTW, in a workshop I did a coupla weeks ago. I asked people if they were saved, why they thought so, and how they could explain the process to someone else).

Wow. What a conversation ensued! We discussed our thoughts about salvation, and discovered we aren't all as clear as we'd like to be. I, for instance, happen to believe that Christ's shed blood is shed for all, and that it's not dependent on anything I do or don't do. Of course, that doesn't guarantee that I'll get into heaven; that does depend on what I do or don't do -- or does it?

If Christ shed His Blood for the remission of my sins, then nothing more is necessary. If that's the case, doesn't that sort of make me a Universalist? It would, I think, if I believed the salvific process were limited to a discrete point in time. I don't. I don't believe that salvation is an event, or that it means we are automatically saved from sin and therefore we get an express ticket to heaven, as long as we repent of any subsequent sin we may commit.

I believe that Christ's shed blood saves my soul from suffering the consequences of sin. I'm saved from the law which demands my (spiritual) death. That's what Jesus has done for me and for everyone, and that's the beginning of the salvific process. But I have free will. I'm free to accept that salvation or reject it. It's still there, available to me, and not dependent on me, but if I don't want it, it wouldn't be forced upon me. I think some of the confusion comes up in this idea of rejecting or "losing" our salvation. The question is whether our actions could impact our salvation.

I think perhaps more than our actions, our intent impacts our eternal salvation. The student used the example of the self-righteous people who profess to be saved, but whose lives suggest they have not learned to love their neighbors. If they believe with their hearts and confess with their mouths, are they not saved? Don't we all exhibit actions that are less than perfect?

The answer to both questions is a qualified "yes." There is a process of "sanctification" that goes on. That "sanctification" is our growing in Christ, our Christian maturity. We may confess with our mouths and believe in our hearts yet still behave like knuckleheads -- if the salvific process is going on in our lives, the time will come when we examine our behavior, are convicted, and will resolve to do better. This is the process of Christian growth, of sanctification.

I don't believe it's enough to simply confess with my mouth and believe in my heart. I think that belief, for me at least, has to result in some sort of transformative action. Saved from what? To what? How does my salvation change me? It changes me because it strengthens my soul to become ever more aware of my complete lack of merit or ability to enter the Kingdom on my own. The salvific process assures me that, despite who, how, or where I am, it's not where I was yesterday -- it's (prayerfully) a bit closer to the heart of God. Or at least it should be.

At the end of the day, at the end of my time here on earth, I don't think I'm going to be judged absolutely. I think God is going to judge me, not on the curve, but on the Cross. God's gonna look at all the crap I have done and continue to do, but God's still gonna have mercy upon me because Jesus has opened the door to make that possible. Even if I act like an idiot, as long as I'm a bit less of an idiot today than I was yesterday, and I'm the best idiot I can be, I believe God will have mercy on me.

Of course, I won't ever know for sure in this lifetime. I can never say "I'm saved," with any force that approaches absolute-ism, because the salvific process is not completed until I die. And no, I don't believe I can do anything to lose my salvation, but I could choose to reject it. (I think. I'm not really sure about that. But if I have free will, it seems that God would not force me to be saved).

I had a thought. Even though the scientists say it's just chemical activity in the brain, many people -- people of faith and people not of faith -- people who've had near death experiences say they've seen a white light at the time of their "death." Some approached the light and were given the opportunity to return; some did not. Perhaps, at the time of our death, we get a chance to Walk in the Light and to embrace the salvation offered to us, the salvation that will become complete when we leave our body.

That's what I believe about salvation. But there are a lot of different views on salvation. As I study them, mine are definitely closer to those of Orthodox or Catholic understandings of salvation than they are to Protestant understandings. At the end of the day, though, they are all rooted in the power and sacrifice of the Blood of Jesus.

Saved? Yup, by the Blood of Jesus. But it's an active verb; I don't get to stop there. Being saved just means m soul is not automatically condemned to Hell. The process is ongoing. I'm continually BEING saved, over and over again, growing in spirit, and groaning on towards perfection.

My cheeks hurt from grinning...

Yeah, I'm officially excited. Ninety six hours from now, I'm scheduled to be in the air, headed to Rome and from there to Cairo. It'll be my second time to Egypt, second time to Jordan, and third to Israel/Palestine.

As much as I am happy to be going back, I'm also aware that I'm on a tour and will be seeing places I've seen before. Thankfully, it's a very small group, so there may exist the possibility for me to go exploring a bit on my own, especially since I intend to buy local sim cards for my phone and will be able to stay in close communication with the group leader.

So as amazing as the trip is, or as I'm expecting it to be, that's not what has me grinning. What has me grinning is the realization that God has blessed my life with such abundance. I mean, I'm the unplanned high school baby who almost interfered with her parents' graduation. Yet I've managed to have some of the finest education the world can offer (Milton, Duke with a stint at Oxford, T-Bird, and NYTS. They're all cutting edge in their fields).

I almost drowned as a kid, and now I swim regularly. Until recently, I'd never taken very good care of my body, yet have managed to survive breast cancer, diabetes, arthritis, and a host of other infirmities. Fortunately, the idea of regular physical exercise was implanted in me early, even though I never followed through on it. But it makes it easier for me to prioritize things now, and easier to stick with some of the choices I make: nah, I don't especially want to go to dinner and a movie with you. But let's move together -- let's go for a swim or a walk or something.

 

 

And I'm especially grateful for the discipline of physical exercise, since I've recently been blessed with an automobile. I didn't have to pay a penny for it, and only have to pay to park it at home (if I choose) and put gas in it. I was walking back from the drugstore earlier and passed by a crowded bus. It hit me how INCREDIBLY privileged I am to have use of this car -- and the fact that it's a hybrid helps me to maintain remnants of both social and financial integrity. It seems that for driving back and forth to work, church, and the gym, traveling from site to site, and running errands, it uses about a quarter tank of gas per week. So I fill up every payday, whenever it hits half a tank, or whenever I remember. I'd had the car about three months before I could remember what side the gas tank was on. Oh, and filling it up from halfway costs $30 - $40, depending on where I am (Jersey is significantly cheaper for gas, but since the tolls have gone up, if you're not already in Jersey, it's not always cost effective).

But all my blessings aren't material, by any means. When I'm driving in the car, I hook up the iPhone to the car and play Pandora through the stereo system. That has made me stop my thoughts about buying Sirius or XM radio; this is free, and has less commercials. So even though I'm driving around and having moments, praising God and getting happy in the car, I'm still very much the carnal person, as evidenced by my response to traffic. It just brings out the worst in me. Sometimes I can be calm and soothed by the sound or substance of the music I hear, but it seems I'm not mature enough to get past rude drivers, even though I can often be one. I can be as impatient and unforgiving (and as resourceful) as the worst New York drivers; but I'm also having moments of intentionality, where I focus on treating others as I'd like to be treated. I still have lots of work to do there.

In my rational moments, I'm very much aware of the fact that I, who have been spared by God's grace, am not even able to be gracious to my fellow drivers. Quite a humbling realization. As I grow in grace, I become increasingly aware of how my actions reflect my professed faith. It's not just about realizing the disconnect between what I say and how I drive; it's about realizing, as Pastor Morgan Guyton, in his "Mercy not Sacrifice" blog, reminds us: that "my brokenness is what qualifies me to love and serve other broken people." He also reminds me that "my passion can turn into arrogance when I don't have enough loving friends around to call me out." I resonated with Pastor Guyton's statement that he's learning to be "less ideological and subordinate everything else that I believe to trusting in God’s love." That's what I needed to be reminded of.

Pastor Guyton talked about how some of us substitute a sort of "trolling for Christ" for evangelism, because we effectively show other people how they're wrong and we're right. I haven't been doing that with evangelism, but I have sorta been doing that with my church. Yes, my church has some serious issues, and yes, I speak on and want to address those issues, but when I read Pastor Guyton's blog, I got a little convicted because it got me to thinking. If I criticize my church without being part of the solution, am I not also guilty of the sort of self-affirmation that we Christians often substitute for the Good News?

It just got me to thinking. God has been SOOOO incredibly good to me. Wouldn't it be a great thing to share that joy with others, unconditionally, unqualified, without adding in the "buts" and all the other exceptions?

This may not make a lot of sense to anyone but me; I was deeply moved by Morgan Guyton's blog on "Trolling vs. Evangelism." It got me thinking. My whole life should be about evangelism -- sharing that Good News. I wonder how much of it, intentionally or not -- is, effectively, about trolling?

Another area for growth. In the meantime, I'm still grinning, and hoping you are, too!

OK, Wait....

Occupy Wall Street is gaining momentum, which I think overall is a good thing.  But wasn't it started by a bunch of 20-somethings who were complaining that they had recently graduated and couldn't find work?  And didn't they largely organize through social media?
 
I'm just wondering how many of those young people used Macs, and contributed to Steve Jobs' billions, or used PCs with Microsoft products and contributed to Bill Gates' billions.  I agree that huge corporations should not be treated as people and should not have unfair lobbying or tax advantages.  But wouldn't an effective way to send a message to those huge corporations be to stop using their products?  Are we making the connection that we, as consumers, drive the culture of greed that has produced the mess we're in? Or is it OK to drive the culture when we're consuming products we like?  Is it OK for Jobs and Gates to be billionaires because we like their computer products, but not OK for Wall Streeters to be millionaires because we don't like or understand their money products?  But didn't we, in many (but not all) cases use those money products and incur debt that helped make the WallStreeters or Jobs or Gates wealthy?

Going back to the youngsters.  And it's not my  intent to pick on them, but as I see them enter the  third (?) week of protests and it's only now starting to have a direction, I can't help but wonder if these are kids who've lived sheltered lives, playing sports where "everyone wins," and going to schools that don't give grades or that pass you for being able to write a sentence in marginally-intelligible English.  It seems like we've raised up a generation that's been incredibly coddled (the pre-school admission process at birth, the helmets, the general overprotectiveness that includes a lack of taking risks, the failure to point out areas for improvement and the constant encouraging, even in the face of weaknesses) -- I can't help but think we've raised up this generation that's oblivious to the forces of a competitive market and now that they're in it, they find themselves not only unprepared, but completely unable to cope (um, I went to school.  I studied art and nature.  How could you grade that, man?  I graduated and now I deserve to work.  I'm not prepared for the workforce and can't compete with some folk who have prepared, so I'm going to protest.  Against what, exactly?  That some people have had to work for things and you've had everything handed to you all your life?)

I know the above does not characterize everyone in the Occupy Wall Street Movement.  In the past week I've seen or posted pictures of librarians, WWII vets, and an 83-year-old woman, all of whom were part of the #occupyWallStreet movement.  I'm not arguing with the fact that rampant greed exists, and is encouraged and rewarded on Wall Street.  I'm suggesting that it's not just the Wall Streeters who perpetuate that condition; it's all of us.  WE are the ones who assumed debt we knew we couldn't handle before the collapse of the housing market, but we want to make them the bad guys for having made us the loans.  They were making a buck, yes, but our greed fueled theirs.  And vice-versa. It is a malevolently co-dependent existence, that of the American penchant for consumption and American corporate greed.

Now we want to sit back and make them the bad guys, but what do we bring to the table?  What part do we play in the solution?  How are we willing to adjust our patterns of obscene consumption in order to change the norms that allow these injustices to happen?  Yes, some people in the occupy Wall Street movement are searching for a sustainable economy -- but what does that look like?  What happens to the entrepreneur?  What do you do with the person who's a loyal functionary for 20 years but shows little growth or incremental productivity?  Should they merit the same reward and compensation as one who's a real go-getter?  How is this decided?  Without the market forces of supply and demand, what sort of economy are we projecting? We're already seeing the effects of artificially altering the parameters f the supply/demand relationship.  If artificially imposed limits are imposed, if the pendulum swings in the other direction, then what happens?

Yeah, America realizes there's a problem.  We're quick to point the finger at others, but we need to remember that when we point a finger at someone, there are three fingers pointing back at us.  Rather than occupying or changing Wall Street, what, other than protest and complain,  is each of us prepared to do? 

It's great that we are concerned enough to #occupyWallStreet.  But don't the folk who work on Wall Street go home to Main Street?  I think we need to look at the values we encourage and embrace on Main Street. I mean, maybe I've become a conservative in my old age, but look at this: our kids don't respect their elders.  They don't even respect themselves enough to get completely dressed before they come out of the house.  We don't get along with our neighbors (most of the time we don't even know them). We've turned our backs on the God of our understanding, We are contemptuous of and can't agree on basic family values.  We've taken God out of our schools and our daily lives.  We use "God" as an excuse to exact hatred upon those who are different from us.  We're so afraid of offending anyone's religion that we fail to practice our own.  It's like we're a ship that's lost its rudder and is just going around in circles trying to find a direction. 

So as much as Wall Street is a symptom of the problem, it's not the CAUSE of the problem.  The cause of the problem is that, along with our direction and our way,  we as a nation seem to have lost our collective mind.  Until we find that mind (and I am reminded here of the assertion that the root of religion is from the Latin ligare, or to tie or bind together) until we find that mind, it won't matter if we #occupyWallStreet, or #occupytheWhiteHouse, or #occupyCongress -- if we cannot collectively occupy some baselines of civility, concern, and caring for one another, then we will never again occupy our collective "right mind."  Or anything else.