Note: I do not have a computer with me so these articles are dictated. As a result there are typos and misspellings. Please ignore them and read for the meaning!
It was the acacia tree that got to me. We had started at the top of the Mount of Olives, and we’re slowly making our way down the unexpectedly steep slope. We stopped at the Dominus Flevit, the chapel of tears actually built in the shape of a teardrop. Planted in front of it were two of these acacia trees, trees that grow spiny long thorns. It is probably from this tree that the crown of thorns was made that was used to crown Jesus after his agony in the garden.
After our sojourn there, we made our way to the garden of Gethsemane. There were other groups of pilgrims making their way down this Palm Sunday route, but our guide had arranged for a private time in this walled off garden. We gathered around a small amphitheater and listened again to the story of what happened in this garden. I was given an opportunity to lead us in prayer.
I asked everyone to sit and simply be still for a few minutes and pay attention to what they were hearing. As these few moments were over, we all agreed we heard two primary sounds. One was the singing of the many birds, the other was the movement of traffic.
In many ways, it was the two worlds colliding into one. First it was the very real presence of Jesus in agony in the garden 2000 years ago. Secondly it was a very real presence of an ordinary workday in Israel.
I reminded them of the way the Lord’s prayer begins. “Our father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
And there each of us who pray that prayer must ask, “do I really want God’s will to be done in my life?”
Clearly Jesus wrestled mightily with this question. Three times he went to prayer. Three times he said “must I do this?” And finally, he says, “not my will but Yours.”
People spent a few moments sharing their feelings, feelings of peace and conflict and sorrow and hope. And then we were dismissed to walk through the garden.
Many were in tears. All quiet.
We continued along the hosanna road until we came to the church of all nations. This church stands on the rock of agony where Jesus prayed.
And this was only the beginning of a long, eventful day. Once we had spent several hours here we loaded back into the bus and headed to Bethlehem, to the birthplace of Jesus. After lunch there, we moved to the incredibly old church of the nativity. Together, slowly, pressed in by thick crowds of other pilgrims, we descended into the crypt which houses that birthplace, gathered in the back of the crypt and sang Christmas carols.
We later visited the caves where Jerome spent many years translating the Bible into Latin, making it more available for the masses.
We drove to Bethany, essentially a no man’s land right now where no government actually rules this town. There’s no police force, no common rule, only hoping that people don’t do too much damage to one another by the nature of their clan relationships. With special admonitions to stay close and not wander off, we went into the church that commemorates the raising of Lazarus from the dead.
We continued to thank “magic Mike” our bus driver. He expertly negotiated that bus through steep hairpin turns weaving around Israeli drivers who seem to not have a problem passing slower traffic while not being able to see what’s coming on the other side. He could and did park in the narrowest of spots with great expertise. We jetlagged pilgrims gave him hearty applause when he dropped us off back at our hotel late afternoon yesterday.
Despite the general exhaustion, many joined in the bar area for a before dinner drink. Much to the dismay of many, we discovered that, as Passover has started, there is no hard liquor or beer to be served for the next 13 days. Wine was the only alcohol available.
We are beginning to bond beautifully as a group. People are taking on interesting roles. One man has decided that it is his job to follow at the rear of the group all the time. He’s like this guardian angel at the end of the group making sure that we’re all safely where were supposed to be.
Another woman, now dubbed the “Countess” counts noses each time we board the bus to make sure we have not left anyone behind. We discovered as we started to sing together that several have glorious singing voices, so we break into beautiful harmony in our choruses. One woman did slip and fall yesterday, and others have been carefully watching over her to make sure that she’s okay.
A group of strangers are slowly becoming the Church gathered.
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