Wow! So
much has happened I almost forgot I needed to write my blog! I hope everyone
had a blessed Holy Week and Easter and Passover.
My
parents have arrived, and we are currently enjoying the accommodations at a
guest house in Jerusalem after spending the day walking the streets of the Old
City. I didn’t realize how well I knew my way around until today, but I was
happy to find that I knew where things were and could (for the most part) get
us where we needed to be. All the Christian sites were packed out, but we had
an enjoyable time, although it’s as hot as it’s been in a while and we were
very tired and thirsty by the end of everything.
The
guest house here is much more comfortable than my dorm – I’m going to need to bring
my clothes here to wash them. It’s been a while since I’ve lived in a house,
and I’m thoroughly enjoying it. Everything is quiet and spacious and clean, and
we have a stove and a microwave and all sorts of appliances I’m no longer used
to having at my disposal. And of course, it’s nice to have my parents around;
they’ve been here less than twenty-four hours, and already we’ve had a lot of
good conversation.
Working
backwards in time, though, I should tell you about my Passover experience. My
first contact with Passover was the realization that none of the grocery stores
near me were carrying bread and that everything had risen in price. Sometimes I
forget just how religious a city Jerusalem is. In Texas, people go to church on
Sunday, but afterwards people watch TV, restaurants are open, and life
continues as usual. Here, everything stops for the holidays. Luckily, of
course, there are three different religions, and you can usually find one of
them conducting business as usual.
This
past weekend, I had the opportunity to join a host family in their Friday Passover
supper. Between delayed busses, a dead phone, and only vague directions, it was
an adventure reaching my hosts’ house, but the dinner was wonderful. They were
great about welcoming myself and the other students, and they explained each
part of the Seder dinner as we partook of it – the bitter herbs, the unleavened
bread (basically large crackers), the telling of the Exodus story, and etc.
After the
main ceremonial part, though, came the food – so much good food! The table was
loaded with four different kinds of meat, as well as various salads, sauces,
and sides. I was nervous coming in about the traditional four glasses of wine
during the ceremony, but as it turns out, my host family is very partial to
grape juice – they had three different kinds – and it didn’t come close to being
a problem. With the food came conversation – with four students and the family,
we had Israelis, Americans, American immigrants to Israel, a German, Mennonites,
former Catholics, a Lutheran, myself, and of course the Jews. The discussion was
interesting and good-spirited.
Of
course, the four-year-old and seven-year-old at the table certainly livened
things up. The four-year-old tried to sing the traditional questions, but
couldn’t remember all the words, and became very upset when her father tried to
help her out by singing them himself. She and her brother managed the
traditional theft of the Afikomen*, but after her brother started napping, she offered
to tell us where it was.
Because
the kids needed to go to bed, we ended up skipping a lot of the second half of
the ceremony, which was fine by me, since it was already 11:15 at night. Seders
have been known to last far longer, but perhaps not so much with four-year-olds
in the house. The kids also livened up our lunch the following day with a long
joke-telling spree.
Although
transportation on Friday ended up working out, and the taxi driver who took me
home was very nice, I decided it would be easier to walk (with a fully-charged
phone) to my host family’s house across Jerusalem on Saturday. It gave me a
much better idea of where I was in relation to other parts of Jerusalem, and it
was interesting to pass through the Arab section of town, through the Jewish
section of town, into the touristy part of town and the German Colony.
Of
course, there’s a main part of town I haven’t talked about yet – the Christian
side of things. This weekend was also full of Easter Celebration. On Friday a
few friends and I joined one of the processions heading down the Via Dolorosa.
It was great to be a part of it – several groups of monks or priests carried crosses
through the street, and the procession walked through the city singing, stopping
at each station to read the corresponding scripture, say the Lord’s prayer and the
Hail Mary.
I
should mention that all of this was done in Arabic, which meant that while I
knew what was going on, it was more language practice than anything. Thankfully,
I already knew the Lord’s Prayer in Arabic; I never learned the Hail Mary in
English, so that didn’t make me much difference. We followed the procession
into the Holy Sepulchre, then lost them, only to find them again quite by
accident walking down the street.
Of
course, even the best of processions involve a lot of congestion. This one made
its way down narrow, winding streets, and the way was full of alleged Christian
brothers and sisters elbowing each other aside in an attempt to get closer to the
cross. I feel like there should be a metaphor in there somewhere. At one point I
engaged in a bit of an argument with several Arab boys who had linked arms
across the passageway and weren’t letting anyone through, but I and the
just-as-frustrated lady behind me managed to sneak by before things heated up
too much.
Easter
Services also involved a great deal of crowding and confusion. It took us a
while to figure out when they took place, since so many denominations are having
services. However, we ended up in the Holy Sepulchre** in time for Easter
Morning service – or mass, I should say, since the service in question was
Catholic.
We
arrived early, and I had time to sit and pray before the service started; it
was a wonderful opportunity, and one I’d been waiting for all semester. Despite
the confusion of the service itself, and a quite overpowering quantity of
incense, I’ve very glad I could attend. It was amazing to be in the Holy
Sepulchre singing songs of worship on Easter morning, even if they were in
Latin. However, between all the people going to and fro and never quite knowing
what was going on, there wasn’t much time to concentrate on worship.
After
the service, we came back to the dorms and prepared a fantastic Easter Dinner,
with a main course of lamb and no fewer than three types of desserts. The
friend hosting us has a magnificent view of the Old City from her dorm, and we
sat and ate and talked about everything under the sun while looking out over the
city.
For all
the excitement of the day, though, I still didn’t really feel like I’d had time
to stop and savor the moment, to really “have Easter.” It wasn’t until that
night, as I sat finishing the book of Luke, that it really hit me again just
how unworthy I was, just how great a gift was given, and just how remarkable a
privilege it is that we should be children of God. It was at that moment that
the Easter story once again came home to me.
Over
lunch with my host family, we’d discussed the merits of historical claims when
visiting holy sites. One person said the historicity didn’t matter, but I don’t
think that’s quite true. If I wanted to visit a church unconnected with
history, I could have stayed in Texas. It’s amazing to be able to walk where Jesus
walked. But in the end, it’s important to remember that wherever, whenever, and
whoever we are, we can meet with God. That, after all, is the story of Easter.
PS - It seems like I should have more pictures from the last few days, but a few things held me back. All my Passover meals took place on the Sabbath, so there were no electronics and thus no pictures. And the Christian events were very crowded, which means most of my pictures are just more people. And finally, of course, when you're in a church service or a procession, you don't want to spend the whole time clicking pictures.
Good Friday procession:
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