Well Done, Good and Faithful Servant - July 3, 2014

Today was our final day in the field; I have mixed emotions. I feel like I am just barely starting to get a grasp on this country, its geography, and its people, and now it is time to go home. But my body will be glad for the rest. At the beginning of this course, our instructor told us we were going to feel this country in our legs and our lungs and he wasn’t kidding! Today was a feeling it in my legs kind of day. I’ve had plenty of feeling it in my lungs days, too!

We drove up in the bus to the cliffs of Arbel which gave us a fantastic look over the Sea of Galilee to the east and then we hiked down. It was exhilarating! At one point we had to go down a sheer cliff face using small metal bars anchored into the rock. I did it – I conquered! As I look back over the past three weeks, I can’t believe all that I have done that I never imagined I would (or could). Hiking up to the top of Masada in 100+ degree heat, exploring ruins over five thousand years old, and learning the significance of rock types for human existence. I am proud of myself for all that I have accomplished here.

As I sat at our last stop on this trip, Caeserea, one of the great achievements of Herod the Great, I was struck by how the world would look differently at his accomplishments and mine. Herod was known throughout the world for his great building projects, living the “good” life, and ruling with an iron fist – he had great power and wealth. Conversely, my great achievements here are making it up and down hills (mountains!) in intense heat without passing out or falling, learning to read the Bible in a richer way, and making new friends from all over the world. The achievements of the common Israelites who lived here were finding enough water and food to sustain their families, making it up and down the hills to trade with neighboring groups, and passing on their histories to future generations.

Yet, what remains of Herod is crumbling. Earthquakes, storms, erosion, have all taken a toll on Caeserea. The magnificent harbor he created is gone; the remains of his palace mostly underwater. The great aqueducts no longer do what they were created to do – carry water – instead they draw tourists.

How will my accomplishments be remembered? I want to pass on to others what I have learned here. I want to take joy in the body God gave me which allowed me to do all of these things. I want to remember the simple life of the Hill Country Judahites, working hard, enjoying the fruit of their labors, and passing on their trust in Yahweh to future generations.  I want to hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant,” knowing my accomplishments will not crumble but make a lasting impact on the lives of others.

The Gospel Triangle - July 2, 2014

The Sea of Galilee is a beautiful place. Today we explored the northern edge of it. This area – comprising the towns of Magdala, Capernaum, and Bethsaida – is called the “gospel triangle” because this region is where the gospels record Jesus doing most of his ministry. I had not paid much attention to the names of towns in scripture before, never taking time to look them up on a map. Even if I had, I likely would not have understood the significance of their locations. This trip has changed that.

At the time of Jesus, the area around the Sea of Galilee was divided into political districts: Galilee (100% Jewish), Decapolis (100% Gentile), and Gaulanitis (50/50% mix of Jew and Gentile). Jesus was from Nazareth, a fairly isolated town a good distance west of the Sea of Galilee. But, when he began his ministry, he based himself in Capernaum right on the coast within easy access to diverse peoples. If he had remained in Nazareth, or if he had made Jerusalem his base, he would have been much more isolated and limited, ministering to Jews only. But, he came to be the light of the world, not Israel alone.

While I knew that Jesus interacted with Gentiles in the Gospels and healed them, I thought that it was only because they sought him out, not because he made himself available to them. In Matthew 15, a Canaanite woman comes to Jesus begging for healing for her daughter. When his disciples urge him to send her away, he responds that he was sent only to the “lost sheep of Israel.” Yet, he had just left 100% Jewish Galilee and traveled to Tyre and Sidon, Phoenician cities on the Mediterranean coast filled with Gentiles. Why would he go there instead of remaining in Israel?

Luke records a story in chapter 8 of Jesus traveling by boat across the Sea of Galilee to the region of the Gerasenes in the Decapolis (100% Gentile). Here he encounters a demon-possessed man wandering in the hills. After sending the demons into a herd of pigs which rushes off and drowns in the Sea, the man begs Jesus to let him go with him back to Galilee but Jesus tells him no, to go back to his hometown and tell others what God has done for him.

As I noted in my journal a few days ago, Jesus is clearly opening the kingdom to people outside the nation of Israel. He is coming to fulfill the purpose which Israel failed to do. Yahweh chose Israel to be the ones who would tell others about the life available through him. Not only did they fail to tell others, they also failed to appropriate the full life God wanted to give them by giving themselves over to false gods.

Parts of the church today have a similar problem. We are so busy trying to decide who is “in” and who is “out” that we fail to make ourselves available to others as Jesus did, putting ourselves in places where we can minister to those who need the good news. We fight amongst ourselves about points of doctrine and fear looking like the “unbelievers” so much that we avoid being around them. Jesus was not afraid. He went where he was needed, to the lost sheep of the world.

The Cost of Discipleship - July 1, 2014

After seeking advice, the king [Jeroboam] made two golden calves. He said to the people, “It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem. Here are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt.” One he set up in Bethel, and the other in Dan. And this thing became a sin; the people came to worship the one at Bethel and went as far as Dan to worship the other. Jeroboam built shrines on high places and appointed priests from all sorts of people, even though they were not Levites. He instituted a festival on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, like the festival held in Judah, and offered sacrifices on the altar. (1 Kings 12:28-32a, NIV)

Solomon has died and the once unified kingdom has split: ten tribes to the north (Israel) and two tribes to the south (Judah). The newly anointed king of Israel, Jeroboam, fears that if his people travel to Jerusalem to worship Yahweh that they will return their loyalty to King Rehoboam of Judah so he sets up two places of worship (Bethel and Dan) in the northern kingdom, violating the word that God spoke about Jerusalem being the place he has chosen to dwell.

As we learned last week at Shiloh – the place where the tabernacle was housed until the political and religious center of the nation was moved to Jerusalem – God desires people who will seek after him. Both Shiloh and Jerusalem are a bit off the main travel route, meaning that people need to be intentional about going there to worship God. While certainly Jeroboam fears losing the loyalty of his people if they travel to Jerusalem, I do think that may have been a piece of his decision that truly did want to make worship more accessible. As I have seen, travel to Jerusalem from the northern kingdom is difficult, traversing through difficult Hill Country of Judah. It may have been pragmatism which contributed to the decision.

I wonder how we, in our modern times, have gone the pragmatic route and made worship easier and more accessible in ways that do not please God? Have we made things so easy that many people sit in our worship services without hearts that are truly seeking after God? This is something I think about quite a bit and it has come back again to me over this past week. Jesus challenges those who want to follow him by saying that they need to count the cost of being his disciple: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple,” (Luke 14:26-27).

True disciples are those who are willing to pay the price of following Jesus to the point of losing their own lives. Losing one’s life does not always mean physical death, but it can mean losing everything you thought life was meant to be. The people of Israel were intended to travel to Jerusalem to worship Yahweh, not to find an easier way. Jesus traveled to Jerusalem to give up his life. Are you willing to travel to Jerusalem?

Blessing to the Nations - July 30, 2014

Today we headed north to the Jezreel Valley, including stops at Beth-Shean, Megiddo, Mount Carmel, and Nazareth. This area of the country is very important as there are many routes that come through here, bringing people from east, west, north, and south, allowing for trade or conquest. In the ancient world (as in the present), controlling transportation routes and the cities alongside them was key to the survival of people groups. It is said about Megiddo: “Whoever controls Megiddo controls a thousand cities!”

Beth-Shean was also a notable city for nations and empires through the millennia as evidenced by the layers found there from as far back as 5,500 years ago. The last settlement there seems to have been Scythopolis, a large Greco-Roman city, which was abandoned after an earthquake in 749 AD which destroyed many of the structures. It was eerie to see large columns which had held up the roofs of temples and other buildings lying in rows on the ground.

It is significant that Jesus grew up in this area of the country. Because of the travel routes going through here, the culture was very cosmopolitan, having access to the people and ideas of many surrounding countries. Nazareth is in the middle of this area but cut off from the main travel routes by large hills and cliffs. In a sense, those living in Nazareth could watch the wealth of the world go by but were unable to participate. The particular bedrock and soil where it is located is not good for growing crops and lacks easy access to water. So, the people here likely felt hopeless for a better life and resented those they could see living the “good life.”

It is into this context that Jesus speaks words which, no doubt, were offensive to his hometown neighbors. In Luke 4, Jesus reads from the scroll of Isaiah in the synagogue, repeating verses they have likely heard many times about the anointed one who would come to bring freedom and healing. He tells the people, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing,” (Luke 4:21, NIV). They were pleased at this, until he went on to talk about how their prophets, Elijah and Elisha, were sent to people outside the nation of Israel. How could he say something like that, when it was obvious they were the suffering and oppressed ones?! The messiah was supposed to come and rescue Israel, wasn’t he? But Israel had forgotten that Yahweh had called them to be a blessing to the nations, not only to be the recipients of God’s blessing.

It is very easy for Christians today, including myself, to forget that same message. We give thanks to God for the comfort and blessings he gives us but resent when we ourselves suffer and those who don’t follow Jesus seem to do well. But even if they are making lots of money, seemingly living the “good life,” they need the message of new life in Jesus, just as the Romans and others did. Many of us need to change our understanding of what constitutes the “good life.” Is it what the world says is good: health, wealth, and comfort? Or, is it what Jesus came to bring: a renewed relationship with the Creator of our world and the promise of a full restoration of the truly good life he originally intended for us?

Better is One Day in Your Courts - June 27, 2014

Today we journeyed into the area north of Jerusalem, the southern reaches of the kingdom of Israel, into the land given to the tribe of Ephraim. So far, this has been my favorite day, despite the disappointment of not being able to visit Samaria because of current tensions in the country.

We began the day at Shiloh, the place where the tabernacle was initially placed after the Israelites came into the land. It was at Shiloh that Hannah came to pray before the Lord and ask him to bless her with a son. It was at Shiloh that Hannah gave back that son, Samuel, in service to the Lord. It was at Shiloh that Samuel heard the voice of the Lord calling to him and instructing him.

“Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked,” Psalm 84:10, NIV). Shiloh was the location of the house of Yahweh. As I sat and looked out over the green fields on the hills surrounding this place, I could only think of the privilege it must have been to serve the Lord here; difficult, yes, but a tremendous privilege. What must it have been like as Samuel “was lying down in the house of the Lord, where the ark of God was,” (1 Samuel 3:3)? What must he have thought as he realized Yahweh was speaking with him and giving him a prophetic message in “those days [when] the word of the Lord was rare; there were not many visions,” (1 Samuel 3:1)?

And now here I am, standing in the place where the Lord’s presence dwelt, where he listened to the heart cries of a barren woman, where he spoke to and through his prophet. Am I crying out to my Father from the depths of my heart? Am I listening for his voice? Am I aware of his presence throughout my day, wherever I happen to be?

Then I heard God speak as our instructor read from John 15 as we stood on the terraced hills of Judah at Sataf surrounded by vines spilling over a stone wall. “I am the true vine and my Father is the gardener … every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful,” (John 15:1-2).  “I delight in you and the fruit you produce,” he said to me, “and you respond to my pruning even though it is so painful. I desire for you to produce even greater fruit so I am doing this work in you. In you I am well pleased.”

Yahweh, may I have the privilege of being a doorkeeper in your house. May I have the privilege of hearing your voice. May I continue to submit to the pruning work you want to do. May I be aware of your presence with me at all times, in all places. May you be well pleased with your servant. Amen.

Life by the Dead Sea - June 26, 2014

The Dead Sea area – extremely hot, dusty, and rocky, except for a few oases of springs and date palms – was our place of study today. We began at Masada, a stronghold and site of one of Herod’s palaces, and the place where the last holdout of the Jewish nation was destroyed by the Romans in 73-74 AD. It is also the site of the Essene community at Qumran, where a Bedouin shepherd stumbled upon one of the most significant archaeological finds, the Dead Sea Scrolls. But, in the middle of this dead, dry place is En Gedi, an oasis of springs and waterfalls which allows lush green trees to thrive and provides shady shelter for the weary.

En Gedi is one the places where David retreated and hid from Saul and where he spared Saul’s life by not killing him when he had the chance. Saul came into the cave where David and his men were hiding. Instead of killing Saul, David cut off a corner of his robe to show Saul that he was not his enemy, bent on his demise, but honored Saul as the Lord’s anointed.

The scriptures use the term stronghold for many of the places in this region and I can now understand why. The steep hills and cliffs which come down from the Hill Country of Judah descend almost three thousand feet to below sea level at the Dead Sea. This rugged area is difficult to traverse and there are many openings formed by the breaking of layers of limestone, creating natural places to hide and observe.

David spent a lot of time here between being anointed king and his actual monarchy, hiding from Saul and learning lessons from God which would guide him as he led God’s people. He needed to have lessons reinforced from his shepherding days: God’s provision of water, food, protection, and safety; seeking the voice of God as guidance and confirmation of his movements; and further developing his battle skills to prepare him for those who would desire to overcome the people of God.

This is a good place to contemplate the blessings of God in the midst of dry times in our lives. Things may look barren but we need to keep our eyes open for the small, hidden oases of refreshing waters. If we do not move from our places of dryness and difficulty, we will never discover what God may have for us a short distance away. We must have the courage and persistence to keep going over the rocky terrain, even when we can’t see what is over the next peak. God provided for David in abundance and he provides for us as well; we just need the eyes to see and the heart to pursue it.

One Step at a Time - June 25, 2014

Today’s field experience took us to the Negev and to the southernmost border of Canaan. The first stop was Tel Arad, a settlement which included an Israelite fortress at the top with a Canaanite city at the bottom. An archaeological find at the fortress has some implications for how we understand the worship life of the Israelites. Inside the fortress is a temple with a layout similar to other Israelite temples, including the outer court, an altar for sacrifices, an inner court (holy place), and the holy of holies. However, this holy of holies contained two incense stands and three standing pillars, indicating the worship of more than one deity. How is this possible when the scriptures are clear that there is to be one temple in Jerusalem, and the Israelites are to worship the one true God, Yahweh?

Before we are too hard on the Israelites, perhaps we need to take a look at our own lives. How often do our daily activities and even our worship line up with God’s clear commands in scripture? I think it is too easy for us to look back at the Israelites and judge from a privileged position. We need to remember that the average Hebrew in the land did not have access to the scriptures. They lived within a culture which worshipped localized, regional gods. Having multiple gods for different purposes and life needs (water, sun, fertility) was the context they lived within.

How easy it is for us in the U.S. church to separate ourselves from the many “gods” of our day? What is it that we worship in our daily lives? What “must” we have in order to live the life we want and what lengths do we go to get them? Comfort? Entertainment? The right job? A spouse and/or children?

Later, as I took a one-hour hike up through the Avdat Canyon to the top of the mountain in temperatures close to one hundred degrees, God impressed upon me once more the lesson of looking only to the step right in front of me, not gazing up at how far I need to go. Just as the Israelites had to trust God for the provision of water and food in the wilderness, so I needed to trust his provision for the strength needed to make it to the top. After that experience, I will never again judge the Israelites for complaining to Moses about dragging them out in the wilderness to die. I had a 3-liter water pack strapped to my back, trail mix in my pocket, and the promise of an air-conditioned bus at the top, yet I questioned why in the world I had done this. One hour in the hot wilderness and I was complaining!

This trip is giving me a glimpse into the difficult life of the Hebrew people and showing me how much more I am like them than I would like to admit. Yet, I remember: “The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but he will rejoice over you with singing,” (Zephaniah 3:17, NIV). I praise God that he is loving, compassionate, and patient, with the Israelites, and with me.

A Diverse Landscape - June 24, 2014

I was struck by two things today in our time in the field: the geographic diversity of this country, and the interesting mix of old and new.

Heading southwest out of the Hill Country where Jerusalem and many Judean cities are located, across the east-west valleys and into the Shephelah, out to the Coastal Plain and the Mediterranean, and then southeast through the biblical Negev, my eyes took in both the beauty and barrenness of this land. From large brownish hills dotted with boulders to lush green valleys filled with olive trees and grape vines, from the wild blue waves of the ocean to the golden fields where Bedouins graze their sheep, this place is a study in contrast.

Contrast is also evident in the ancient ruins nestled amid modern cities and construction projects. We drove along multiple roadways which are being widened with modern construction equipment but then pulled over to see an ancient cistern and watering trough right next to the road. The ancient gate of the city of Ashkelon, where Samson went and killed thirty Philistine men in anger, is within viewing distance of high-rise buildings of modern coastal cities. All across the country, ancient and modern exist next to one another in a peculiar, intriguing way.

Yet, the diverse people of this land seem unable to exist next to one another the way their geography and structures do. The issues are complex; there are no simple answers. But I know God’s heart aches for the people of this land and he desires them to live in peace and harmony, celebrating their diversity rather than letting it be a barrier.

The U.S. is not immune to this inability to live in shalom. Even Christians seem unable to embrace the beauty of diversity among the people of God. We are too busy defending our way of doing things and arguing about why we are right and “they” are wrong.

What if humanity could take a lesson from this beautiful land? Different geological bedrock creates zones here, each having its function and purpose. Some is better for summer crops, some for grazing of sheep and goats, some holds water well in dug cisterns, some allows water to seep between layers to create natural springs and aquifers.

Shepherds and farmers were able to form a symbiotic relationship. Shepherds remained in the grazing land during the rainy season, living off the water and shrubs in the wilderness, thus allowing the farmers crops to grow and mature. Farmers allowed the shepherds to bring their flocks after the harvest to feed off the remaining grains during the dry, hot season when water and food were scarce in the wilderness and, in turn, received natural fertilizer to enrich their land for the next year’s growing season.

Diverse people, in a diverse land, learning to work with one another for the benefit of all. This is a lesson I believe that God wants to teach the church through this amazing promised land.

Judean Wilderness - June 21, 2014

“Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her … ‘In that day,’ declares the Lord, ‘you will call me ‘my husband’ … I will betroth you to me forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion. I will betroth you in faithfulness, and you will acknowledge the Lord,” (Hosea 2:14, 16, 19-20, NIV).

Looking out over the Judean Wilderness, these words pierce straight to my heart as they are read aloud. Today, June 21, is my 28^th wedding anniversary, probably my last one. My husband told me eighteen months ago that he doesn’t love me and doesn’t want to be married anymore. I have cried, prayed, screamed, and held out hope, but it is time to let my dream (my idol?) of a flourishing marriage go. Yahweh, God Almighty, has led me into this wilderness and is speaking tenderly to me here: “You will call me ‘my husband.’”

Yahweh is the faithful one; Yahweh is compassionate; Yahweh is the one who allures me; and, Yahweh is providing springs in the wilderness. He has provided people to come alongside and cry with me, pray with me, and break bread with me. He has provided financially through the generosity of family and friends. And, today he provided a loving arm around the shoulder and words from a friend: “You are never alone.”

I wonder how lonely David felt as he tended his sheep out here. I wonder how lonely Jesus felt as he was tempted out here. They had to depend on the provision and presence of God every moment in order to survive. As I sit and sip from my water bottle (knowing there is more on the bus), and look around at my new friends, I wonder if I would have had the courage and faith to make it in this dry wilderness alone like David did.

But, Yahweh reminds me that it is not this wilderness to which he has called me; I have my own wilderness to journey through, and he is providing in the midst of it. I am never alone.

Mount of Olives - June 20, 2014

Today was our first day getting on a bus and getting out of Jerusalem. It gave me the opportunity to see the bigger picture of the layout of the city, on a series of hills divided by the Kidron, Tyropean, and Hinnom valleys. It also gave me visual confirmation of the truth of the saying, “Going anywhere in Jerusalem means going uphill both ways!”

We made a number of stops along the Mount of Olives: the site of a 1^st century family tomb on the grounds of Hebrew University; views looking across the Kidron Valley toward the Temple Mount; the site where Jesus is thought to have looked out over Jerusalem and wept for her; and, finally, the Garden of Gethsemane.

It was nice to be a bit further away from the crowds of the city, though there were still plenty of people here. Jerusalem is a city that is, quite literally, built right on top of itself. Layers of walls, buildings, and roads create a jigsaw puzzle that is both interesting and overwhelming. I realized today that part of why I am feeling less emotional than I anticipated at some of the sites here is because of the overstimulation of my senses. Sights, sounds, smells, and the ruggedness of the road beneath my feet all compete with and distract my soul.

All this reminds me that the scriptures say, “Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed,” (Luke 5:16, NIV). Jesus knows what it is like to face distractions of the soul, to be overwhelmed physically through his senses. And his example is a lesson to me that I must take time, even in this place, to withdraw to lonely places to listen for the voice of God. So I took time to quietly contemplate the emotions Jesus felt on this mountain:

The grief as he looked out over his beloved city – the place Yahweh chose for his name and glory – and knew that its people “did not recognize the time of God’s coming to [them],” (Luke 19:44);

The fear as he prayed to the Father that this cup would pass from him;

The rejection as one of his friends betrayed him with a kiss;

The frustration as another of his friends ignored his teaching and resorted to violence against a soldier;

And, the grace and compassion he maintained despite all his disciples’ failures.

The humanity of Jesus, and the fact that he is able to understand all of my weaknesses, has become even more of a comfort since I've been here. This is a physically demanding place to be, with the crowds, confined spaces, heat, and terrain. I am thankful that Jesus has experienced all that I am experiencing here and has compassion and grace on me in the midst of my distraction and confusion. 

Jerusalem Field Day #3 - June 19, 2014

Massive stones lie in piles on the crushed pavement, evidence of the destruction wrought by the Romans in 70 AD. Yet, these stones are nothing compared to some of the gigantic foundation stones of the lower wall. I am overwhelmed by the immensity of the structure. How did people in the ancient world build it? And I am in awe of the effort it must have taken to destroy it!

Things in the modern world are so much more easily built and destroyed. Twenty-first century Americans are a throw-away society; if we don’t like something we own we get rid of it and get a new one. Many people buy property to tear down the house standing there in order to build something bigger and better. But in the ancient world, construction could be a lifetime project and, in the case of palaces and temples, generational.

I imagine the sorrow with which Jesus must have uttered the words, “Truly I tell you, not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down,” (Matthew 24:2, NIV). Seeing the temple that had taken generations to complete – the temple to which the nations were to stream in worship of Yahweh – and knowing the effort Israel’s enemies would expend in order to destroy it would be horrifying. This was the place where his parents had dedicated him to his Father, where he had come to celebrate countless Passovers with family, where he had learned from the rabbis. Jesus was a first-century Jew and the temple held a very significant place in his heart and life.

In the modern world, our devices of war and destruction are much further removed from the close engagement of ancient times. If we want to destroy an enemy’s facility we can now send an unmanned drone and release devastation with a push of a button. But the Romans destroying the temple were up close and personal, fully engaged in what must have been a tedious process of tearing down the buildings and hopes of a nation. I wonder what went through their minds as they struggled to break apart and heave the massive stones over the edge of the temple mount. I wonder if the soldier who was stationed at the cross when Jesus died, recognizing him as the Son of God, was still alive to see the temple destroyed. What did he think? Was he there participating?

I continue to be moved by the groundedness – the earthiness – of this place. This is not some other-worldly, spiritualized holy city. It is real, it has weight, it is rooted. I am thankful for the staying power of this city and its structures, even through all of the destruction. It underscores the concreteness of my faith, the this-worldly nature of what God is doing to renew and redeem creation. We humans have gotten our hands dirty, actively participating in destroying Yahweh’s good creation, and I imagine the sorrow Jesus still feels as he watches. Yet he is also at work rebuilding and restoring through generations of those who are faithful to him. 

Jerusalem Field Day #2 - June 18, 2014

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains – where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1-2 (NIV)

Sitting on the overlook at the City of David, looking across the Kidron Valley to the Mount of Olives with the Temple Mount to the north, these verses took on new meaning for me. The psalmist was not thinking of some distant mountain range as I do, picturing the Rocky Mountains in my mind. He was looking to a large hill right in front of him which protected his precious city from destructive east winds and which provided refreshing, nourishing rains. It was not the majesty and strength of a 15,000-foot jagged summit but the effects of a gentle 2,600-foot slope which imaged the protection and provision of Yahweh to him.

It was over this slope that the morning sun would appear, promising a new day. It forced the clouds and moisture coming from the Mediterranean up once again to give a drink of water to the valley below. And it offered a buffer to Jerusalem from the dust and heat of winds driven across from the Arabian Desert. All of this from a relatively small mountain; small, yet powerful.

How often do I think that the provision and protection of God needs to come in some 15,000-foot majestic way when all around me he has provided powerful 2,600-foot slopes? Meals shared with friends and family, open homes when I need a place to stay, the nourishing refreshment of prayer. In all these ways, Yahweh is protecting and providing for me in the midst of some deep personal valleys.

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains – where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”

Jerusalem Field Day #1 - June 17, 2014

My first field experience in Israel left me feeling lots of conflicting emotions: excitement, anticipation, fear, doubt. I knew this trip would be physically challenging but that first walk up what seemed to be hundreds of steps left me wondering what in the world I am doing here. Do I have what it takes? Will I make it?

As my friend Kelly reminded me of what Vern had said in class – that this is the land in which God had to provide for his people because natural resources were scarce – I began to understand what the Hebrew people must have encountered coming here. They also probably asked themselves: What in the world am I doing here? Do I have what it takes? Will I make it?

Because of the physical challenges I encountered, I felt unable to fully enter in to the magnitude of the places I was seeing: the probable site of Jesus’ crucifixion, his burial, and resurrection. I wonder, though, even if I had been feeling well, whether or not I would have felt some “extraordinary” emotion as I imagined I might. The further I walk in my journey of faith, the more I am struck with the ordinariness of much of faith. Walking with Jesus is a journey of remaining faithful through the ordinary day to day, not just celebrating or declaring my faith through an experience of gathered worship on Sunday.

My experience in Jerusalem today was an experience of the ordinary. Walking past people on their way home or to the market; seeing the men sitting outside their shops hoping to make some money to support their families; watching children play in the street. This is the land in which Jesus walked – a land of the ordinary. Jesus walked past people on their way home or to the market. He saw men sitting outside their shops trying to support their families. He watched children play in the streets. Jesus lived his life within the ordinary, day to day existence of first century Palestine.

Yet, into the midst of the ordinary, Jesus ushered in the kingdom of God, sometimes in dramatic, extraordinary ways, but most often in very ordinary ways. When Christians think of Jesus they often remember his miracles, healings, raising of the dead – dramatic moments. But Jesus also just walked among the people, teaching them about the character of the Father, encouraging them to love and seek peace rather than conflict, and breaking bread with them. Jesus was with and among the people in the midst of the ordinary day to day.

So, I will strive to release my expectations of extraordinary experiences while I am here in the Holy Land. I will seek to fully enter in to the ordinary day to day. I will trust that God is going to meet me in the challenge of making it up the next step, of talking with people along the way, and closing my eyes in sleep at the end of a long day.

Israel Study Trip: June 15 - July 6

I have the amazing privilege of participating in a three-week study tour of Israel with Jerusalem University College located on Mount Zion. I will be posting some of my reflection journal entries from our days out in the field. Hope you enjoy peeking in on my heart and mind as I take this trip of a lifetime!

Netherworld

I'm trapped between two worlds with a foot in each one
Where do I belong
Singles don't know what to do with me
They think
At least she got to experience the joys of a husband
True
But the pain of knowing the joy was not mutual is unbearable
Marrieds come in two camps - younger and older
The younger are busy building their own families
They want to reach out but time is an issue
The older, I think, are afraid of me
They fear upsetting me with their own happy long-lasting marriages
Or, they fear that I am a possibility of something to come in their own lives
Either way, they tend to stay more distant

And, so, I am trapped in a netherworld
A world I never imagined I'd be in
But always feared would come

It's been thirteen long months since I heard the words
I don't love you
I don't want to be married
And now
Silence
Silence
Silence
I am trapped in a netherworld

What does spiritual transformation look like in this netherworld
I'm trying to figure it out
But it's
Messy
Messy
Messy
I am trapped in a netherworld

I do not like straddling two worlds like this
But it is the reality
And so I
Wait
Wait
Wait
In the netherworld