Keep Kicking Rocks

Last week Sara shared some of her experiences and impressions of life here in Israel. She talked of the difficulties for an American Christian to fit and be accepted into daily life. Even our boys have struggled, as the kids on the playground next to our house seemed to only play with other Jewish boys leaving the “Pagans” to play alone. At one point one of my sons told me he wanted to buy a “Kippah” or “Yarmulke” and wear it to the park so that he would be allowed to play soccer. It is a heart-breaking thing for a parent to watch his kids struggle with acceptance but somehow I know that these experiences are invaluable to developing their lives. I wish I could take his place and protect him from these lessons but we “only possess what we experience”.
As the week went on Sara told me about something her grandfather used to say to his kids (Sara’s mom). Because they moved around a lot he used to tell them, “keep kicking rocks and eventually the other kids will join in”. So, Sara and the boys “kept kicking rocks” and they kept pursuing conversations with the same people who were rejecting them. Now, after one week, the others have joined in “kicking rocks”. In fact, the one who seemed the most obvious in her rejection actually took the boys to the park for a while yesterday and offered help whenever we might need it.
This is a major answer to prayer and a testament to the importance of persistent love and grace in the face of opposition. What Sara and the boys were able to accomplish in one week of breaking down walls proclaims the message of the Risen Jesus. It reminds us of the incredible acceptance that Jesus gave to others around Him and how compelling that acceptance is. This doesn’t mean that all is now easy and perfect, but it does mean that on some levels things are a bit easier. I have the opportunity of studying and working in my “bubble” called Hebrew University, but I think Sara and the boys are learning as much if not more than I will learn this year. Their attitudes and willingness to succeed impress me. I am grateful for them.

the Week in Photos

A view of Jerusalem from the campus at Hebrew University.

The Western Wall with the Dome of the Rock in the background. This is the location of The Temple Mount from the Bible. The entire mount was made into a Muslim compound which obviously has interesting political implications. This is why the wall is also called the Wailing Wall.


This the Church of All Nations (which I guess means it is the church of your nation) located on The Mount of Olives in
The Garden of Gethsemene.


This is The Church of Dormition which conveniently (and suspiciously) hosts David's Tomb, the location of The Last Supper, and where Jesus' mom died.


This painting is on the dome inside The Church of the Sepcultre which claims to be the site of Golgatha and Jesus' Tomb. Every place of historical importance (or supposed place of importance) has churches, monastaries, temples, or mosques built on the site. Somehow these massive buildings were erected without disrupting the archaeology of the area.... yeah.


A windmill (in case you were wondering).


A taxi.


A market in the Old City.


My son Ian at the Western Wall. He is the one on the right.


Me after two weeks in Jerusalem.

Advertisement for John Nagel's comedy show in Jerusalem.


The Israeli built wall separating the West Bank from the rest of Israel. This is the view from the edge of our neighborhood.

Peasants and Scum

As is typical, days here in Jerusalem have there ups and downs. I am certainly adjusting to the culture and the people, a new language and a new home. This morning I started off the day with a run towards Old Jerusalem's Jaffa Gate. I sat under a bouganvilla-covered arbor on a bench overlooking the city, listening to Chris Tomlin on my ipod singing "the cross before, and the world behind..." I doubt he was sitting where I was when he wrote the song, but it took on a new meaning for me as I looked out on the spot where Christ indeed died on the cross for me. The world, behind me. I would call that a high point of my day.

I proceeded home, and spent the rest of the day sinking lower and lower. Today was one of Ryan's long days at school and so I was juggling three boys and homeschool (when this is not my forte...I am quite wimpy) in a strange land, and out of shekels to boot. There are some women at the park who are ultra-orthodox jews, and not that this is their culture, but certainly these women in particular are not kind. When I try to walk up to them, they walk away from me. Their children do not play with my children. Our landlord explained to me that here in Israel the way a person dresses will automatically categorize you. My conservative California clothing is considered quite heathen to the conservative Jew here. So I spent a lot of the day inside, fretting over my clothes, trying to figure out how to cover my entire body but stay comfortable in 90 degree weather. When I finally did get the courage to venture out to the park with the boys, I looked a little ridiculous in my outfit, a long dress with a hoodie and closed toe shoes. And still I sat alone on a park bench, watching the orthodox Jewish boys refuse to let my boys play soccer with them.

I am pretty sure I had repeated the mantras "why are we HERE??" and "is it July yet??" about 100 times when I overheard a woman on her cell phone on a bench next to mine. She was talking to a friend about a job opportunity that had come up for her (in English..I am not that proficient in hebrew yet!) in an area she wasn't sure she wanted to work in. She basically said that the area was full of peasants, and minority people groups and said she didn't really want to work with scum. I am finding that this is a place where lines are drawn between people on so many levels - religious, social, economic... her comment just helped to support that sentiment. Certainly the country of Israel and the people here in general are generous and welcoming. But the park near our apartment has not proved to be a place where those people spend their time. I have felt incredibly shunned and very much like "scum." At one point I was sitting on the bench obsessing over my outfit, thinking that maybe my dress should be down to my ankles and not just to my knees. Watching the other women react to me, and questioning my own morality. I started to wonder if that was how the Samaritan woman at the well (in the Bible) felt like. An outsider, shunned, the scum of the neighborhood.

Then I thought back to a Bible Study that I taught last year - our group studied the book "The Jesus I never knew." One Sunday morning we talked about whether or not we would be drawn to Jesus if we lived back when Jesus walked on earth. And none of us were really sure. Sitting there today, feeling like the peasant and the scum, I absolutely felt drawn to Jesus. I had such a longing to have someone show me kindness. To treat me like an equal, to love me and to be gracious to me. I can see why the people who followed him were largely the "ragamuffins" - the poor, the outcast, the sick. I could easily at that moment washed Jesus's feet with my tears, reached out for his robe, laid at his feet, had he walked into that park today.

I still dont know why we are here. I cannot say that at that low point in the park today I was happy to be here. But I can say that I am humbled as well as overcome by the great love that God has for me. I end the day on more of a low than a high...however one thing remains the same. The cross of His unconditional love and sacrifice, which he made for scum like me, lies ahead. And this world lies behind.

Not to us, but to His name be the glory.
Shalom,
Sara

The Week in Photos

I'm not sure if this will be the week in photos or the several days in photos but either way I will try to share some images from each week. These photos are from our stopover in London. I will post photos from our home in Jerusalem tomorrow.

FOOD

As Ryan mentioned in a previous blog, I tend to be a bit more personal and specific in my blog contributions than he is. This could be no better illustrated as true than in todays blog. Because there isnt much more that I take more personally than the subject matter that I want to discuss today - and yes that is food. If you are a friend, family or God, please know that you are indeed higher on my list but that is about it. So let me just ramble on a bit about my food experiences of the past week.

London - I dont have a lot to say about the airplane food or about the food in London. Except to say that the fish and chips were as good as ever, although our restaurant at one point was out of ketchup and tarter sauce and salt and pepper which was a little sad for me. Oh and I did have plenty of tea and shortbread cookies which I believe both of these are some of the best of Britains accomplishments.

Once in Israel though my food experiences have gotten much more interesting - starting perhaps with the McKabob that Ryan got at a restaurant that I will not name (I dont like to give free advertising). The McKabob was very good, did not come with cheese, and also cost us about 9 US dollars. Yes, that is correct.

Once we got to Jerusalem, we walked over to a corner market and tried to go shopping for a few staples to get us through a couple meals. The experience was incredibly overwhelming for two main reasons. One, I had no idea what I was looking at most of the time and two, the prices were 2-4 times the prices we have at home. I did find a box of rice cereal that baby Benja will be needing in another two months. It cost 10 US dollars for the box so I dont really know if Ben will be starting solids while out of the US. I dont expect to see English on anything and am looking forward to being immersed in the culture here. However, right now I know nothing about Hebrew and when everything is written in it things are a bit difficult. I tried smelling and squishing things as best as I could and ended up with a few things - we bought bread (not sure if it was wheat or rye), some milk (either cows or sheeps or something else), some lunch meat (chicken?) and an apple (this I did recognize and it cost me a dollar). I really do love food and cooking and so to be so out of sorts was a bit depressing. So today we went to a larger and cheaper supermarket a little farther away, and I hoped that things would turn out a bit better.

We parked our rental car and went into the market. It was bigger and cheaper and had more things that I could recognize like toilet paper and shampoo. I did not know if I was getting shampoo for colored hair, dry hair, or whatever, but I think it was shampoo and not conditioner. I did get what I thought was a jumbo thing of clothes detergent only to realise at home that it was fabric softener. I couldnt tell which was salted and unsalted butter so I got both. We got what we thought was canteloupe and it was something greener and sweeter once we cut it open. Again everything is in Hebrew and a lot of the foods just look so different that we have no idea what we are getting. Food that was plentiful was hummos, pita, and lots of containers of salads. I have so much more empathy now for people in the US who have immigrated or who are visiting and dont know a lick of English - because I certainly am at a loss in the market for now! One thing that was all too familiar occurred at the end of the shopping trip. Ben needed to eat (he is feeling left out of the cultural experience) so I took him and the keys to the rental up to the parking garage to feed him. I walked up and down every aisle pushing the unlock button, hoping to hear a beep or a door unlocking. I looked in the back seat of every big car I saw hoping to find a car seat and even tried the key in one. Finally I gave up and sat on the concrete outside the store and waited for the one in our marriage who has a shred of a sense of direction. At the very least, it was comforting to know that even in Israel some things remain the same. Stay tuned for our efforts at keeping a kosher kitchen. :)

British Sitcom

Our final stop before arriving in Israel was a quick two days in the U.K. One day we decided to head out to Windsor with the family (and two friends from America, Megan and Danna). We had a great time in Windsor and the boys were energetic and interested all day! On the way I witnessed a classic British scene that I just have to share with you.

This story works best when you hear the dialogue with thick British accent so do your best to imagine it.

We were sitting in a mostly empty Charter bus for a short ride to Windsor. In front of me sat an elderly couple with gray hair, glasses, and wearing typical English attire, somewhat formal looking. Between the two of them they had one whole rows of seats, two on each side of the aisle, and they each occupied the opposite window seat so there was a decent amount of space between them. As we traveled, the husband sat turned towards the window and was fully engaged in reading the morning newspaper. His wife sat staring straight ahead and had a bothered expression on her face.

As our journey neared the end, she tried to get his attention because she wanted the plastic bag that sat in the chair next to him. He failed to acknowledge that she was there so she hit him with her cane and this is where I bring you into the story.

"Harold... Harold, give me the bag. "

"What do you want (you old hag)?" I actually added the "old hag" part because I think it makes the story better.

"The bag Harold, give me the bag".

Harold tosses the bag over to her and turns back to read the paper while mumbling to himself.

Ali proceeds to vomit into the bag. (I'm not sure what her name is but the only British woman I really know is named Ali).

Harold looks at his wife vomiting and then expresses his disgust with her behavior with another mumble that I regrettably was unable to hear. Harold turns back to his paper as Ali proceeds to vomit several times. Our bus comes to its final stop and once again Ali calls out to her husband.

"Harold. Harold, give me your hanky".

Harold pulls his handkerchief from his pocket and tosses it to his wife as she completes her vomiting. Ali wipes her mouth and Harold says, "You keep the hanky, I don't want it anymore".

Ali counters, “I will keep the hanky, but you can keep your plastic bag”. Ali then got up and tossed her bag of vomit to her husband and stormed off the bus.
Okay that last line is not true but the Ali I know would have thrown the bag of vomit at her husband if he said that. Plus, at this time the bus was stopped and everyone was scurrying off the bus to avoid engaging in any sympathy vomiting so I didn’t actually see the end of the scene.

And that was our trip to Windsor. Cheers.

My Version of the Road Trip

Now that you heard from my wife who tends to be more personal and factual about our adventures, here are my thoughts after the trip up to Washington.
***
Packing up the car and driving across portions of the Country as a family is a good old American tradition. It only makes sense that the country that perfected the mass production of the automobile and publicly funded interstate freeways should embrace a tradition such as the “Road Trip”. Because of this fact, I thought the best way for my family to spend our time before we head off to another country is to embrace our American heritage and hit the road. So we completed the task of packing our home into storage and then loaded our essentials for a drive up the west coast of our country to our final stop in Washington State before heading off to Israel for the year.

Our trip would take us to the Northern California Coast to the famous Coastal Redwood forest. And what says, “Road Trip” more than driving through one of America’s largest states, sleeping in roadside hotels, and eating “Moons Over MyHammy” for lunch at Dennys? Once in the Redwood forest you can actually spend the day in awe of God’s creation and be convinced of the value of conservation and responsibility towards our natural resources and then drive through a 1000 year old tree that someone decided to decimate by carving it out just enough to fit a family vehicle right through the center. To complete the experience, you have one person jump out of the car and take pictures of your vehicle actually going through a tree. Only the families that swallow their pride enough to take part in these most cliché’ tourist experiences can fully enjoy the real American Road Trips.
While driving up the coast in hopes of getting in touch with nature and finding some “World’s Largest Lump-of-Clay” type photo ops, I realized that a few universal rules apply when enjoying a family vacations on the road.

Rule Number One: No matter how much fun is being had, the kids must take periodic breaks to either complain about the length of the journey or to fight with one another. It is a very important part of the trip to make sure that the parents go through times during the trip where they think it would be better to be back at work. Without these moments of torture, parents would quit their jobs, sell their homes, and devote their lives to touring the world with the family. Productivity in our nation would drop and the population of hippies would grow out of control so rule number one is essential.

Rule Number Two: Parents must make empty threats to everyone in the car. Common phrases are, “If one more person complains we will sit in the hotel room and do nothing all day”. Everyone except perhaps the parent making this threat knows that sitting in the hotel room and disrupting the schedule is not an option so no level of poor behavior will ever put these threats into effect. Other common phrases are, "I will turn this car around”, “We will never go on vacation again”, “This is the last time we are stopping to go pee”, or “We will just leave you on the side of the road and continue without you”. This final threat is the most likely one of all to be fulfilled so parents must use caution when vocalizing it.

Rule Number Three: The driver shall be the only one truly interested in seeing all the great wonders of God’s creation. Only a driver (and usually only driver who has entered the ranks of fatherhood) can pretend there is beauty and joy found in driving 8 hours through hot, dry, and smelly places like central California. The problem is that only the driver is truly required to stay awake and pay attention to the surroundings so all other passengers can find ways to pass the time until they arrive at things truly worth enjoying. Basically, everyone else just wants to get to the next stop, hop out of the car and pose for a family picture in front of “America’s largest ball of twine”, and get back to sleep in the car.
I remember when I was young our family would drive across places like South Dakota and my dad would say things like, “You boys better wake up and look out the window. You are missing all of the scenery”. Of course he knew that South Dakota doesn’t actually have any scenery and he also knew that life was easier if we all stayed asleep, but violating rule number three is unacceptable so the game goes on.


Rule Number Four: The schedule is similar to the budget; it looks good on paper but is more accurate when made after the trip is complete. I don’t have time to get into this so allow me to simply give some quick observations. Scenic drives come with RV’s and Logging Trucks. Gas stations are never available when the fuel light goes on. “Points of Interest” are never just off the road. Kids and wives forget things at restaurants and don’t remember for at least 15 miles down the road. Tires never pop unless it is raining.

By the way, our trip up the coast was perfect. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing all of God’s creation while my wife and boys slept. We got our picture driving through a tree. We almost ran out of gas on a scenic road but luckily found one pump at “Harry’s Gas, Beer, and Fine Collectibles” station. I threatened to turn the car around twice before coming to grips with the fact that turning around would make our trip even longer. We ate blackberries on the side of the road. We hiked through the woods at three different stops. We searched for agates at Agate Beach. We ate more fast-food than we have in the past year. We made it to our final destination and were actually glad we took the trip and look forward to the next one.

Shalom from the other half

Hi Everyone! Ryan has graciously allowed me to post on his blog from time to time. I figure I can post a funny kid story, or a new Israeli recipe from time to time when you get tired of Ryan's philosophical wanderings (not that I ever get tired of them!).

I am writing this from my father in law's office computer. We made it safely to Washington state and have been here since yesterday afternoon. The trip was fun and the boys were all three troopers. Baby Benja (as we have nicknamed him for the moment) slept well and was fairly laid back despite having to sit backwards in his car seat and stare at nothing for three days. At one point I called the trip "nursing my way up the coast" as I sat on a rock overlooking the ocean feeding Ben. I also fed Ben at a rest stop in the pouring rain at 3 in the morning, on the side of the road behind a sleeping big rig driver, on the side of the road in the redwoods, in a Denny's, a KFC, a McDonalds parking lot and by the side of an indoor pool while the boys swam and Ryan slept. This will be the extent of Benja's travelling experience which he has probably already forgotten. :)

If you have facebook you have read my short account of our trip but here it is again. The redwoods were beautiful and majestic, just like the claims. They are tall and straight and taller than some 35 story buildings. The sunlight filters down onto the moss-strewn ground and you feel like you are in another world - travelling in October meant that we were usually the only tourists around which made it all the more surreal. The trip was an interesting emotional mix - of awe at the incredible natural beauty and enormity of this world, mixed with awe at our awesome God and the enormity of what he has called us to do in this next year. He is certainly big enough to cover us with his sheltering branches, to warm us with rays of his love and to blanket the path before us with the life he has already prepared.

Most of you know that I read the Harry Potter series and enjoyed it - if you plan to read it and havent yet you may want to skip this part! But one of the most poignant parts of the final book (in my opinion) is when Harry has just realized that he is going to die. He is walking through the school that he has spent many years of his life, stepping past good friends, and walking through the forest, thinking about what he is about to lose. I can imagine the ache in his heart. To tear away from all that is so precious to him - he knows he must do it but it leaves him feeling raw and pained. This past month for me has felt a bit like that - I have been most certainly blessed by friends and family that love me and have been there for me. Walking on the lawn of MHC on Sunday and looking over the faces of some of those people left me a little achy and raw. Of course I do not plan on dying anytime soon :) but with changes there is a sort of death to the way things were. I look ahead to this next year with much anxiety but also anticipation at what God has in store for our family. But know that for those of you from our home in OC, know that you are loved and missed.

Leaving

On Sunday we closed the page on a seven-year chapter in our lives and opened another that is certain to hold unexpected adventures and unforgettable experiences. After working and living in the same area for seven years I did what any other normal person would do; I quit my job and decided to move my family with three young boys to Israel for a year.
Driving away from our home and our lives that we have grown to love so much is no easy task, but the prospect of meeting new people, seeing new things, and allowing our perspectives of the world to expand is a suitable consolation. It is this promise of adventure and anticipation of the unknown that drives us forward. It is amazing to me at the number of people who cannot fathom why a person would leave the comforts of Orange County for new experiences. Granted these are the people who count going to Los Angeles as a trip to a third world country and standing in line at the DMV as a multi-cultural experience. It is these people who give helpful commentary such as, “I hope Iran doesn’t nuke you this year”, or “I would never take my family into that violent country”. I like to follow this up by asking for the actual number of violent crimes in Israel compared to California. I have even had one person help me out by saying, “A lot people die in suicide attacks on buses… I hope you won’t ride any buses.” To this I simply replied, “I actually just got a job as a bus driver… well, it was nice knowing you.”
My wife says that I am a “dumbist”, that I am prejudice against dumb people and that I have no patience for those who I consider lacking in some form of intellectual competence. So maybe I am too harsh on those who believe that the “News” gives an accurate picture of the world or on those who think that my kids will receive less education traveling the world than those who spend their whole lives in our dream world called Orange County. I guess I just expect mature adults to value expanded horizons and to embrace the thrill of quenching the desire for discovery.
Maybe it is my family that is unusual. Perhaps the fact that we made a decision years ago to spend our money on experience over stuff sets us apart. It could be that finding pleasure in the earth God created keeps us from a healthy retirement and a stable career path. All I know that I am grateful for my wife who is willing to go along with this idea and for my boys who help me find the wonder in this world. I am thankful to my God for putting my family in a position where we can take time off from work to pursue the adventure of a lifetime. I can say without a doubt that I am the most blessed person on this earth and completely undeserving of this status.

Slight Delay

We have been traveling from our home in Orange County to Washington before leaving for Israel and have had some posting problems. Our real posts will be up by the weekend.