Churches and Ruins and Walls, Oh My... Part One
I've been putting off the process of sitting down to write about my recent trip to Palestine/Israel, and I'm not entirely sure why. I'm a procrastinator by nature, but this feels like something different. I feel a strong inclination to do the piece, yet I find myself holding off. Other tasks are given priority as justification for not diving in and putting words to my feelings. Maybe I've just needed longer to find those words this time around.
It's interesting - I realized the other day that the last time I traveled to another country with part of a church-related group was when I was in the 8th grade. My father and I went to Guatemala - and what's interesting is that trip was also in February. And it also left me struggling with the task of trying to live my regular life in a world that had been unexpectedly changed forever in my heart and mind.
Sometimes we experience things and don't realize the profound ways in which we've been changed until much later. And sometimes you go and see some places and meet some people - and they change all the places and all the people instantly and without permission. These are experiences that cause a shift in your consciousness and refocus the lens through which you see everything from that point on: power, desperation, joy, sorrow, hope, desperation, love, and evil.
While I've been putting off the actual writing of my feelings, I have been reading constantly from books about Palestine and Israel. It's an effort to delay the inevitable fading of even the clearest memories, sounds, smells, tastes, and emotions. It's a fade that creeps in with each day that passes, putting more distance between the reality of being there and the reality of now being here.
Because the fading is inevitable, I decided I better get to writing or make peace with not doing it at all. I also decided that there is way too much to say to squeeze it all into one blog entry. So I'm doing my lovely readers a favor and splitting it into three parts. Deep breath. Here we go.
Part One: Churches - Or, Yeah I Went With a Bunch of Preachers...
If you know me well then you know it's not easy for me to talk about religion and faith. Maybe it's because I'm a preacher's kid. Tell people that and you can watch the assumptions form in their minds. Maybe a little barrier goes up. It's "real fun" to watch them decide they've got you pretty well figured out. So I've spent my adult life keeping my adult beliefs mostly to myself.
With that information, it's probably going to come as no surprise that I hesitated when my father invited me to go to "The Holy Land" with a group of people who talk about their beliefs for a living. Even without the clergy element, he was asking me to go on a trip during which I would have no control over where we went or what we got to see.
I was already twitchy with that bit. Call me bossy, but when I travel I want to see what I want to see.
So I've got two marks in the Cons column right off the bat. On the other hand, it had been 15 years since I got to travel abroad. Fifteen years. I didn't even have a current passport when he asked me to go - a bleak situation I had been lamenting over for several years. Immediately that gives the Pros column two marks: get to renew my passport and get to go somewhere far away.
Obviously, you know how this nail-biter turns out: I decided to go. But - I had all sorts of concerns:
But that still left me with the fact that this trip was going to have a pretty heavy religious element attached to it. And my other concern was this: how would the rest of the group react to someone who isn't quite so convicted about certain religious topics and themes? Would I be able to authentically experience the places we were going to see and the stories we would hear?
We did go to a lot of churches. We talked a lot as a group about the teachings and life of Jesus. We went to places that draw millions of visitors from all over the world because they believe these places to be literally holy. Part of the marketing of the trip was that we would "walk where Jesus walked."
And I did hold myself back a little at the start I think. After all, only three of the people with me were people I knew already. But I quickly realized that our group was extremely diverse - and that I was not the outsider I thought I'd be. Others on the trip questioned their faith on a regular basis. Not everyone needed the holy places to be completely historically accurate to Biblical narratives. Not everyone had come on the trip because there was a religious focus included. In fact, at least one other person had actually come in spite of the religious stuff! He just wanted to experience the historical value of the locations we visited.
But here's what I realized part way through the trip: While I was breathing sighs of relief at not being an outsider, I started to feel my heart and my mind becoming curious. As the anxiety dissipated, the wondering moved in and took its place. I started to watch the other visitors at church sites. I saw the emotion they felt and how moved they were at standing in a building said to mark the site of some ancient religious event.
We were lucky enough on this trip - because of our guide's connections - to go inside the Dome of the Rock. Visitors who are not Muslim are no longer allowed inside unless special permission has been granted. Our site guide, Aouni, led us through the magnificent interior. He brought us to the rock that is believed to be the spot from which the Prophet, Muhammad, ascended to heaven. At each holy spot he repeated, "This is just a..." It's just a rock. It's just a cave. It's just a building. He showed us bullet holes in the building. He told us he had been shot in the building. He said sometimes people forget that it's just a rock. Just a cave. Just a building. They let the rocks and caves and buildings become idols, and the line between what is real and what is meant to be symbolic blurs in dangerous ways. We met Rabbi Jeremy toward the end of our visit who expressed his grief over the same issue in the Jewish faith.
Of course, this has been happening since the beginning of time - it's not a new phenomenon. And it's not something limited to religious followers. We're all so quick to look for something that will give life purpose and meaning. A good intention easily goes off course when fueled by anger, self-righteousness, ego, greed - and we end up with idols. We create them and they destroy us.
Nowhere is this more clearly illustrated than at the various archeological ruins included on our itinerary. And I'll get into some of those experiences in Part Two.
For now, I'll end Part One with a positive - I was the most apprehensive about the church stuff coming into this. But I have come away feeling enriched by the stories I heard, the locations I visited that are tied to Bible stories I grew up with, and the people I shared these experiences with. I came away thinking about why I hesitate in certain areas of my own faith. I let myself get lost in the mystery of what might truly be real and what has always been meaningful myth. And I was reminded that faith is not static. Questions I have today may find their answers tomorrow. And if they don't - that's just fine. What's important is to stay curious and keep saying yes to experiences that push me outside my comfort zone.
It's interesting - I realized the other day that the last time I traveled to another country with part of a church-related group was when I was in the 8th grade. My father and I went to Guatemala - and what's interesting is that trip was also in February. And it also left me struggling with the task of trying to live my regular life in a world that had been unexpectedly changed forever in my heart and mind.
Sometimes we experience things and don't realize the profound ways in which we've been changed until much later. And sometimes you go and see some places and meet some people - and they change all the places and all the people instantly and without permission. These are experiences that cause a shift in your consciousness and refocus the lens through which you see everything from that point on: power, desperation, joy, sorrow, hope, desperation, love, and evil.
While I've been putting off the actual writing of my feelings, I have been reading constantly from books about Palestine and Israel. It's an effort to delay the inevitable fading of even the clearest memories, sounds, smells, tastes, and emotions. It's a fade that creeps in with each day that passes, putting more distance between the reality of being there and the reality of now being here.
Because the fading is inevitable, I decided I better get to writing or make peace with not doing it at all. I also decided that there is way too much to say to squeeze it all into one blog entry. So I'm doing my lovely readers a favor and splitting it into three parts. Deep breath. Here we go.
Part One: Churches - Or, Yeah I Went With a Bunch of Preachers...
If you know me well then you know it's not easy for me to talk about religion and faith. Maybe it's because I'm a preacher's kid. Tell people that and you can watch the assumptions form in their minds. Maybe a little barrier goes up. It's "real fun" to watch them decide they've got you pretty well figured out. So I've spent my adult life keeping my adult beliefs mostly to myself.
With that information, it's probably going to come as no surprise that I hesitated when my father invited me to go to "The Holy Land" with a group of people who talk about their beliefs for a living. Even without the clergy element, he was asking me to go on a trip during which I would have no control over where we went or what we got to see.
I was already twitchy with that bit. Call me bossy, but when I travel I want to see what I want to see.
So I've got two marks in the Cons column right off the bat. On the other hand, it had been 15 years since I got to travel abroad. Fifteen years. I didn't even have a current passport when he asked me to go - a bleak situation I had been lamenting over for several years. Immediately that gives the Pros column two marks: get to renew my passport and get to go somewhere far away.
Obviously, you know how this nail-biter turns out: I decided to go. But - I had all sorts of concerns:
- Did I buy too big a suitcase, and would the rest of the group be embarrassed by me?
- Would I feel totally out of place with the rest of the group?
- How could I figure out a way to pack my apple cider vinegar and honey for my morning tonic?
- Should I buy a travel yoga mat or just wing it?
But that still left me with the fact that this trip was going to have a pretty heavy religious element attached to it. And my other concern was this: how would the rest of the group react to someone who isn't quite so convicted about certain religious topics and themes? Would I be able to authentically experience the places we were going to see and the stories we would hear?
We did go to a lot of churches. We talked a lot as a group about the teachings and life of Jesus. We went to places that draw millions of visitors from all over the world because they believe these places to be literally holy. Part of the marketing of the trip was that we would "walk where Jesus walked."
And I did hold myself back a little at the start I think. After all, only three of the people with me were people I knew already. But I quickly realized that our group was extremely diverse - and that I was not the outsider I thought I'd be. Others on the trip questioned their faith on a regular basis. Not everyone needed the holy places to be completely historically accurate to Biblical narratives. Not everyone had come on the trip because there was a religious focus included. In fact, at least one other person had actually come in spite of the religious stuff! He just wanted to experience the historical value of the locations we visited.
But here's what I realized part way through the trip: While I was breathing sighs of relief at not being an outsider, I started to feel my heart and my mind becoming curious. As the anxiety dissipated, the wondering moved in and took its place. I started to watch the other visitors at church sites. I saw the emotion they felt and how moved they were at standing in a building said to mark the site of some ancient religious event.
We were lucky enough on this trip - because of our guide's connections - to go inside the Dome of the Rock. Visitors who are not Muslim are no longer allowed inside unless special permission has been granted. Our site guide, Aouni, led us through the magnificent interior. He brought us to the rock that is believed to be the spot from which the Prophet, Muhammad, ascended to heaven. At each holy spot he repeated, "This is just a..." It's just a rock. It's just a cave. It's just a building. He showed us bullet holes in the building. He told us he had been shot in the building. He said sometimes people forget that it's just a rock. Just a cave. Just a building. They let the rocks and caves and buildings become idols, and the line between what is real and what is meant to be symbolic blurs in dangerous ways. We met Rabbi Jeremy toward the end of our visit who expressed his grief over the same issue in the Jewish faith.
Of course, this has been happening since the beginning of time - it's not a new phenomenon. And it's not something limited to religious followers. We're all so quick to look for something that will give life purpose and meaning. A good intention easily goes off course when fueled by anger, self-righteousness, ego, greed - and we end up with idols. We create them and they destroy us.
Nowhere is this more clearly illustrated than at the various archeological ruins included on our itinerary. And I'll get into some of those experiences in Part Two.
For now, I'll end Part One with a positive - I was the most apprehensive about the church stuff coming into this. But I have come away feeling enriched by the stories I heard, the locations I visited that are tied to Bible stories I grew up with, and the people I shared these experiences with. I came away thinking about why I hesitate in certain areas of my own faith. I let myself get lost in the mystery of what might truly be real and what has always been meaningful myth. And I was reminded that faith is not static. Questions I have today may find their answers tomorrow. And if they don't - that's just fine. What's important is to stay curious and keep saying yes to experiences that push me outside my comfort zone.
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