 |
  
|
|
Father Stephen’s Holy Land Pilgrimage  |
|
Great ExpectationsStephen F. Whaley
I haven’t read Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations yet, but I’m stealing the title today as I try to convey something worthwhile to you about my trip to the Holy Land. In the midst of your kind and thoughtful interest I have struggled to find the words to say, words that are both positive and meaningful, and words that build faith, but words that are true to what I really experienced over there. As I’ve said many times to you, “That Land is filled with paradoxes, contradictions, and conflict.” It is a land held up as an icon of peace and yet the reality is it is a land of violence. The very name “Jerusalem” in Hebrew has the root “salem,” which is shalom or peace. Yet even the etymology of the name of Jerusalem is in question. The Hebrews did not name the city. It was already named by Amorites before David conquered it. “Shalem” apparently was an Amorite god. In the midst of this conflicted reality, I am still trying to understand the significance of this event for me. It was most definitely a mixture of frustrations and joys. Our group of 23 pastors initially met for 3 days in September at my seminary in Sewanee, Tennessee. We were 13 Episcopal priests, 8 Methodists, 1 Baptist, and a Pentecostal…sounds like a joke waiting to happen. We were teamed into groups of 7 to help us establish closer relationships. This was very successful. We briefly got to know each other and about each others’ families and circumstances. We were able to go enthusiastically to Israel having already established some friendships; we left Sewanee with Great Expectations. In the interim, between our September gathering and our October trip, I struggled with having Great Expectations. What would God do? What would he show me on this adventure? How would he touch my heart? Would he touch my heart at all? I tried to clear my mind of these questions in order to simply be a blank slate. I came to the outlook that I should go there without “Expectations.” Because, I thought, I don’t want to be let down if nothing happens. The one apprehension I carried at the forefront of my mind concerned theological doctrine. Being a traditional Christian was frustrating for me in seminary. Faithfully believing in the Creeds and all of its precepts, the Trinitarian Godhead, the Divinity of Christ, the Virgin birth, the Atonement, the Resurrection, the church Catholic, all the miracles, and actions of Jesus, I believed them, and still do! But in seminary, some in the faculty and student body take license to interpret these events and doctrine not as factual, but rather metaphorical. The Divinity of Christ for some is a primitive and superstitious belief, for me it is a factual reality that I affirm by Faith. My concern on this trip was that by reentering this “scholarly” environment of seminary, with “enlightened” educated clerics and professors, would the intellectual skepticism become a barrier for me to the sacredness of these places? This trip was, for me, stepping into the factual, historical, and tangible places where the Son of God performed miracles, where He fed 5,000 people, healed lepers and paralytics, and spoke peace. If members of our group were quick to point out that this is the “Traditional” but not the actual place of the Sermon on the Mount or the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, of Peter’s House, would their words be such a great distraction that I couldn’t allow each of these places to shape and form me spiritually. So with this conflicted mind I boarded an airplane bound for Tel Aviv. My mind was full of desire for Great Expectations, yet struggling to not expect much. And it was a mind preparing to shield itself from the possible onslaught of disbelief from fellow Christians. 
Expectations in Galilee fulfilled? I think it’s fair to say that we all were experiencing jet lag. This haze persisted through our 2nd day as we visited Mt. Arbel. Arbel looks over the valley where Jesus entered the coastal region around the Sea of Galilee. On Day 3 we visited Tagbha and Mount of the Beatitudes. Both sites contain church structures commemorating the Sermon on the Mount, the Feeding of the 5,000, as well as the “Church of the Primacy of Peter.” Peter’s church is established on the site where Jesus restored Peter, asking him thrice, “Do you love me?” Each of these sites is nestled along the Galilean coast. At the Church of the Multiplication we could hear many other pilgrims saying their prayers. They were all speaking with overlapping voices in Russian, Spanish, and English. That was pretty cool. It caused me to consider the universal nature of our faith. Christ’s teachings go beyond the cultural and ethnic differences that we humans often put up to divide ourselves. But the ethic of Love, which the Lord exhibits, is Universal. On the Mount of the Beatitudes sits a larger church structure adjacent to simple landscaping. It is relatively quiet. You could hear the bird’s chirping and We had a few more morning excursions in the region, a day on the Sea, and another in Nazareth. I had close encounters with God in both the stillness of the Sea and in music at the Church of the Annun- ciation in Nazareth both stories are worth telling at another time. If I had to tell you whether or not my “expectations” were met, I’m telling you, “Yes.” “Yes,” but not the way I expected. I did feel God in certain moments though in those moments I was distracted by my own skepticism. I was also distracted by what I experienced as the skepticism of our leader. But somehow God was able to speak, and he still is communicating through these experiences. Despite the distractions of personality and intellectual conflicts of our group’s members, God is able to move through these things and bring his purposes to being. I hope that what you see is that this is universally true. Whether we are in Israel or Nacogdoches, God moves in and around us, working through our differences to restore people to himself and one another. In the Season of Advent we approach the celebration of the Incarnation of the Son of God. When Jesus came as a child, believers had their expectations of what the Messiah would be. He fulfilled those expectations, but not in the way they expected. Instead of coming as a God of domination he came in submission. His power was the power of humility. I hope that in the current conflicts and anxieties that we all experience in our daily lives that you can trust God to be working through them. And I pray that you will focus on him during this Advent Season and discover what Gift he plans on revealing to you. One other thing that I continue to discover is something I haven’t touched on at all; that is the friendship and companionship of my fellow pilgrims. I hope to address it in my January article that is, “What about Jerusalem?” |
His approach was from Nazareth in the west. The mount gave us an incredible panoramic view of the Sea (really more of a lake) and the surrounding city and countryside. That same day we visited Capernaum where Jesus began his public ministry of healing and teaching. The village is still being dug out, as are many archeological sites. The foundation of the ancient synagogue where Jesus read from Isaiah’s scroll sits under the New Synagogue built sometime after the former’s destruction in 629 A.D. We were able to walk around through this open-air stone structure. We sat quietly on the stone benches lining the wall and imagined that day when Jesus declared, “Good news is preached to the poor.” This village also boasts the House of Peter. Peter lived and fished in Capernaum and underneath an architecturally atrocious modern church sits the ruin of his house as well as the remnants of two ancient churches. In Jesus day, Capernaum, though small, was a hub of commercial fishing and other business. In terms of “getting His message out” it was, strategically, a wise place for Jesus to start.
I was
reminded as the Lord preached his Sermon that
he said, “Consider the birds of the air. They do
not reap or sow, yet your heavenly Father provides
for them.”