Philosophy and Photos

There is a question that philosophical types like to ask that goes something like this: "If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is there to see it, did it really fall?" Now, I like to amend that question a bit to go more like: "if a tree falls in the forest, and no one took a picture of it, THEN did it really fall?" I happen to place a lot of value on the photo. I honestly do not remember how I lived before I owned a camera, and I suppose I could ask, Did I truly live? :) When Ryan and I travel, we spend a lot of time taking pictures. It is actually difficult for me to enjoy myself until I have the required photos for wherever we are. For instance, when taking a trip to Paris, we needed to get the shot in front of the Eiffel Tower, the shot at the Louvre, and a good picture of gargoyles at Notre Dame - all while wearing a beret. In London there is Big Ben, a shot in a phone booth, a double decker bus and a good pub. When we went to the Arches National Park in Utah we raced from rock formation to rock formation just to get the photo. I dont actually remember seeing most of them, but I have photos to show for our race through the park. We have the picture of the family car going through a tree in the California Redwoods, one of Ryan in front of the Statue of Liberty, one of all the baseball stadiums we have seen to date. Okay, you get the point.

But the small tragedy of all of this - or perhaps comedy? - is that not only does the photo make the trips a reality, but it creates a NEW reality. As long as there is a picture, it doesnt really matter what actually happened. Let me explain. This last week, our family went to En Gedi and the Dead Sea - both close to home here in Jerusalem. The spectacular views, the sweet moments with our boys, the awe inspiring history of the places...these were not the focus for me. I wanted a picture of me floating in the Dead Sea, a picture of me with mud all over me, and a picture of my boys swimming under a waterfall. Our first stop was En Gedi, an area known for its beauty and described in the Bible in Song of Songs. We hiked up to the first waterfall, and I wanted to stop and get the boys in the water for their picture. Of course Ryan insisted we actually do the ENTIRE hike (which was only about a mile). Again this was not nearly as interesting to me as the photo op, but we marched on. Finally we got to the top, and while I fed Benja (the baby), all I could think about was the waterfall photo - the one consolation of course is that the photo of me feeding the baby was a photo op as well. When we got to the waterfall the boys were not in the least interested in getting in the water, as it was windy and quite chilly as well as in the shade. But we forced them in, and got our picture - it matters not that they both have little colds now. Because in 10 years we will look back at that happy moment when they were able to frolick under a cascading waterfall in En Gedi.

Then it was on to the Dead Sea, where upon walking into the water, my two older boys and I all cut up our feet on the sharp and very salt-crusted floor. We were not aware that we needed aqua socks but for future travellers, be warned. It was also very cold and the waves were fairly strong. My second son immediately jumped out and my first was a bit more of a trooper and went in for a minute. I had pretty much sliced open the top of my toes fairly deeply, but persevered despite the not so pleasant combo of salt water on my wounds. Again, I got the photo and thats all that matters. In 10 years we will look back at that idyllic afternoon, floating weightless in the Dead Sea.

And finally, we got our mud shots. Not to matter that the salts in the mud and the sulphur showers burned our eyes and exacerbated the cuts on my feet. I smiled and all that will remain of our time there are happy memories of therapeutic minerals and soft skin.

I really do love good photo ops. And the truth is, I was truly happy despite the pain and misery, knowing that I had my picture and therefore our pain would not be for naught. And I look forward to the many more photo ops that life sends our way.

The Week in Photos

The theme of the photos for this week is archaeology. We have been exploring some of the sites in Jerusalem and some outside of Jerusalem so here are some photos.

This is an aquaduct built by Herod the Great just before the birth of Christ. It had a precise slope to allow water to move 17 KM to the town of Caesarea.

This is a stadium also built by Herod in Caesarea. This particular one hosted chariot races and various gladiator games.

These are the pools of Bethesda where Jesus healed the cripple man in John 5. A pagan temple once stood here followed by a 4th century Byzantine church followed by a Crusader church from the 11th Century followed by dirt. The remains of all of the eras still stand here today.

This is part of the Crusader church at the pools of Bethesda.

These are part of the ruins from the temple mount during the second temple period. In year 70 AD the Roman Empire razed the temple and many of the stones from the destruction lay here today.


Outside the wall of Herod's temple mount.

These were actual storefronts on a street right outside the temple mount that were in use during the time of Christ. Jesus might have purchased tourist souveneirs from this very spot.

This is my son walking out of an acient "Mikveh". It was used for ritual purification in the Jewish tradition. This mikveh is right outside the temple mount so would have been used to cleanse those wishing to enter the temple. This is most certainly the predecessor to the Christian tradition of baptism.

These are kittens and they are not ancient but they are wild and found everywhere in Jerusalem.

Happy Thanksgiving

Today we are celebrating Thanksgiving here in Israel. Since it is an American holiday it is just a normal day here for everyone with classes and work (I actually went to one class and skipped another in order to get home and be with the family). The local stores do provide turkeys this week due to the high number of Americans living here so we will actually have a fairly normal Kosher Thanksgiving meal. Tonight we will host 3 American students and 2 German students who want to see what this tradition is all about. We really don't care who comes, it is just a joy to be the host and to remember all the things to thank God for.
Perhaps this year we will borrow a prayer from the Jewish culture when they give thanks each week to God who provides the bread (or all their needs).

Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu Melekh ha'olam hamotsi lekhem min ha-arets.
Blessed are You our Lord our God, King of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.

We wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving.

Bless The Name

One thing that I love about Jerusalem, is that every Friday morning when I go for my run (or walk to the coffee shop), the town is bustling with activity in preparation for the shabbat meals. People are filling the markets picking up last minute bottles of wine and bunches of flowers. And down every street you can smell the aroma of roasting meat and fish, garlic and vegetables. On Friday after sundown, the sounds of singing and laughter fill the night. This past Friday night, our family had the privilege of sharing a Shabbat meal with our landlord and her family. This was our first opportunity to be active participants in this age-old Jewish tradition. Our landlord lives near us so we walked to her house and were met at the gate by her husband and four children. Inside the long table was set with white linens, and on each end of the table was challah bread - set out on boards, with a cloth on top. It was explained to us that the challah represents two things - one, it represents the manna that God provided for the Israelites in their forty years wandering in the desert. On the morning before the sabbath, God would provide a double portion for them so that they would not need to gather on that day. That is why there are two plates of bread on the table, to represent the double portion. The coverings over the bread represented the dew that fell on the manna, and again is a reminder of Gods perfect provision for them each morning. The other thing that the bread represents, is the offering to God. We were told that since the destruction of the temple, there are no longer animal sacrifices to God, and the bread stands in the place of the sacrifice. They salt the bread at the beginning of the meal in the same way that animal sacrifices were salted in the temple.

Before sitting down, a blessing is said over the children - first the boys and then the girls. Then the father (head of the house) reads the last portion of Proverbs 31 to his wife - the part about a noble wife being worth more than rubies, etc. It is a beautiful beginning to the meal and a great reminder of the value placed on family in this culture.

The first thing that happened after sitting down is the wine/grape juice was poured into a kiddush (blessing) cup and the father of the house prayed and said a blessing over the wine. Everyone sang a song and then the cup was poured into smaller cups and everyone drank. After that we went and did hand washing. Our landlord explained that all week we bring forth the fruit of our hands. On this day, we wash our hands to symbolize that it is not ultimately us, but God who provides. On this day we are washing away the works of our hands and consecrating them to God. No one speaks after the hand washing until the bread is blessed and no one had a good explanation of why that is. We all mostly did a good job except for my 7 year old and 5 year old sat shaking with the giggles which I think hastened the father's blessing of the bread a bit. :) Next the bread is blessed, with salt shaken over it to consecrate it as a sacrifice, and then it is passed to eat and we all ate.

After the bread is passed, they do a blessing of God. Again it was a bit vague on what we were doing, since who are we to bless God? But ultimately, they said that to start a meal, they do not ask Gods blessing on the meal, but instead give blessing to God. They turn back praise and blessing onto God. After the meal they thank him for the meal, but they never ask for a blessing. I thought this was interesting since every night we say something to the affect of "bless this food to our bodies...".

The meal then goes about as normal - it is kosher, so roasted meats and lots of vegies and grains(no dairy). They have been on a warmer since the shabbat has begun, since they are not allowed to heat anything up anew once the sun goes down. During the meal we had great conversation, with the father asking the children to talk about what they had learned at synagogue that week. They definitely ask a lot of questions in this culture and force you to think! Again in this culture (typically), the abba (dad) is expected to be the spiritual leader of the family and to ingrain the teachings of the bible and torah into the children.

The meal ends with several readings and songs, extoling God for who He is and all He does. They asked my oldest son to read parts of the blessings, and I was able to read as well. One twist to the story though, is that although FULLY Jew, both the host family and their other guests, are also believers in Yeshua (or who we westerners would call Jesus). That is another story, but they believe Yeshua is indeed the One God promised to them as messiah. Most good Jews will not say the name of God, and so have other names for him. Tonight they referred to him as "Hashem" or "The Name." All night long we referred to "The Name." To finish off the evening, the abba asked my son to sing for us his favorite song, which he did. His favorite song has a verse in it that goes "Blessed be The Name of the Lord...Blessed be His glorious Name..."

Our first Shabbat meal was a good one. I hope to be a part of more of them (and not just because of the free food). I think there is a lot to learn from the traditions here. And what a wonderful thing it was to hear my son lift up his voice to Bless The Name!

Sabbath Made for Man?

Today is the beginning of the Sabbath for us here in Israel. From around 3:30 PM on Fridays through 6:00 PM on Saturdays most of Jerusalem comes to a stop as people take the day to reflect on God.
In Mark 2:27, Jesus speaks of the Sabbath and says, “Sabbath was made for man”. After taking a look at the customs on the Sabbath, I have come to the conclusion that this verse should read, “The Sabbath was made for teenagers”. Allow me to explain some of the customs to help illustrate my point.

• Beginning Friday afternoon, no one is allowed to work or even acquire any new knowledge. In other words, homework, studying, and even reading to gain knowledge is technically prohibited (Although you can learn from Synagogue).

• Friday evenings usually include hanging out with friends over dinner and an abundance of wine is often involved.

• On Saturdays, it is the norm to sleep in as long as one desires. It is the day of rest.

• No work can be done on Saturdays. This means no washing dishes or clothes, no “taking out the trash”, no “cleaning your room”, no washing cars, no cooking, and no yard work can be completed.

• No one is allowed to go to work on Saturdays or Friday Nights. These times are reserved for spending time with friends.

• Finally, to prove that the Sabbath is for teenage boys, a truly observant Jew will not shower or brush their teeth on the Sabbath.

So, all of you parents out there who struggle to get your teenage son or daughter to do any work, make sure they do not read the Talmud which gives the Rabbis explanations of how one is to observe the Sabbath. This will only give them a spiritual argument for laziness on the weekend. For all of you teenagers out there, just tell your teachers and bosses that it is against your belief in God to work on the Sabbath so you demand some religious tolerance. Shabbat Shalom.

For deeper thoughts on what the Sabbath means, please Click Here to read my more philosophical blog.

The Week in Photos

This week the photos are a bit less cliche' as these photos show things that most tourists would not take the time to see.

This is a view of Herodian located in the Negev Desert. It is a palace built into the cone of this mountain built by Herod the Great around the time of Christ. In order to build this palace on the mountain. Herod had to build the mountain. In other words, he moved a mountain so he could have a palace higher and more prominent than the temple in Jerusalem. Was Jesus referencing this palace when he said a small amount of faith will allow you to do greater things than moving mountains?

This is just one of many old cemetaries that are left scattered througout town. In this particular one they have discovered several "Iron Age"' tombs.

This hill is what is now called Mt. Zion but is not the Mt. Zion from King David's time. It is located on the Western edge of the old city and is now the location of the "Church of Dormition" and Jerusalem University College (an American Bible Institute).

This is the valley of Ge Hinom. During the 1st Temple Period it was the place of human sacrifices made by the pagans. Steep cliffs on each side mark the location of these sacrifices. The name of the valley became known as the valley of Gehena (which became a metaphor for hell). In other words, this is an actual photo of hell.

One of the cliffs in Gehena.

Olive trees are abundant here. Everywhere you walk, you will find olives growing.

I stumbled upon this film crew from India filiming a documentary in the city. See, it is just like living in L.A.

This is the inside of the "Shops in Mission Viejo". Oh wait, it is actually the inside of Jerusalem's largest shopping mall that includes three levels of shops, cafe's, and it even has a KFC, a Kosher Pizza Hut, and a Burger King. Despite what most of the images portray, Jerusalem is a modern city with several shopping malls, high rise buildings, and flushing toilets.

Finally, this is the view from a cafe at the shopping mall located right outside the Jaffa Gate in the Old City.

The Case of the Shoe-Napper

Living in Jerusalem has its advantages. One advantage is that the weather is roughly the same as in Southern California except that, I am told, it rains here. Other than that we experience a very similar weather pattern. This time of year the daytime temperatures get up to 20 degrees Celsius and at night it drops to 10. (Okay, I am still American so the temperatures are 70 during the day and 50 at night in Fahrenheit).
Back to the point, the advantage of weather like this is that one can wear shorts (if you want to look American) and you can wear sandals everyday, which is very common here. This week someone stole my boys' shoes from outside our front door (in a locked building) so they have been reduced to wearing their sandals. Now on to the real point of this post.
Shoes. Someone who lives in our building of 12 units stole my boys' shoes. It is amazing how shoes can feel so personal. How can shoes being stolen make us feel so violated and disappointed? I honestly spent a day or two thinking about how awful it is to have shoes stolen. To make it worse, we just bought those shoes when we arrived in Israel so I feel that someone took 150 shekels from me. As I consider who lives in this building, I can assume (understanding what assuming will probably do to me) that these shoes were not stolen out of need but rather out of spite. Only 4 units in this apartment have children and ours is the only one with a boy over 7 years old so it is unlikely that someone needed a 7-year-old's pair of shoes. Also, we are the only ones in the entire building who are of a different religion than the others. Having said this I am sure we will find the shoes under a bed this week and I truly will fulfill the etymology of the word "ass-u-me", but if not, here is the lesson.
For several weeks now we have attended a Christian church here in Jerusalem that embraces the Messiah Jesus. This church and the people of this church face weekly dilemmas in following Christ. In the past month, the building was burned, one associated member was murdered in Gaza, and another person has his life under a serious threat in the West Bank. Each week we pray for these people, but more importantly, we pray for the ones who are doing these things. The church has made it clear that we will not hold grudges and that we will love and forgive those who burn our churches and take our lives. Nobody mentioned loving and forgiving those who take our shoes but after giving this some thought (and after examining the feet of every kid in the neighborhood) I decided that shoes probably apply in this scenario.
So, if someone stole my boys' shoes because they needed shoes, praise God that we could help them with their need. If someone stole our boys' shoes because they do not like those who follow the Messiah Jesus, then praise God that we are considered worthy of facing these challenges. If no one stole the shoes and they are lost under a bed, then praise God that we looked under the bed. And Praise God that we can wear sandals!

Ode to the Pita

I think I am starting to get the hang of grocery shopping and cooking in Israel. Some simple rules are: you go to the fresh produce stands once a day and get the bare minimum that you need so that you waste nothing. But if you can go to the large downtown souk (pronounced "shook") you can get food at about half price. You dont buy bakery items at the grocery store...only at the bakery down the street or at the souk. You only buy your meat at the souk or at the very large supermarket near the mall, called Mega. Cheese is not really a good price anywhere, unless you want feta or goat cheese. "Salty cheese" is their funny version of chedder but it doesnt taste anything like chedder. You can go a couple miles downtown to the Russian Markets where they sell real chedder like we are used to in the states. Blue is for unsalted butter, and Red is the salted. There is one percent and whole milk only. There are about 100 types of yogurt. And if you see an American brand item that you like, make sure that you buy all of it that is in stock because you may never see it again. Oh, and most packaged goods here have been expired at least 9 months by the time it gets to us. You need to plan on paying a higher price for everything for a smaller quantity, and you have to just stop balking everytime you see a 30 as a price for cereal (30 shekels equals about 7 USD).

There are some things things about shopping and eating here that I really love. One of those things is the fresh juices. There appears to be only one brand of juice in the entire country and they only provide fresh squeezed juices at high prices. But they are sooo yummy. I also love that I can get huge tubs of hummos here for just a few dollars - and I am talking HUGE tubs. And I love that most everything at the souk is fresh and inexpensive. And I really, really love the pita here.

I can get a big bag of hot, piping pita bread for less than two dollars - 6 of them costs about 75 cents or 2.50 shekels. Because pita is such a good deal around here, we use it for everything. Below is a list of the great things you can do with a pita:

You can fill it with peanut butter and jelly
You can fill it with eggs and cheese
You can fill it with leftover salmon, or with tuna and tomato
You can use it for sloppy joes
or hamburgers (they call it a McKabob here)
You can fill it with hummos and tomato-cucumber salad
You can put cheese in a pita, grill it up and have it be a grilled cheese pita (creative name, ehh?)
You can cut it in half, broil it and tell your 5 year old that it is a very large English muffin (with jam)
(have I mentioned that all of this is authentic Israeli cuisine?)
You can make it into croutons
You can make it into pizza (kosher of course, with sauce and salty cheese)

You can probably get the point - since we are sort of on a budget here (retirement income) the economy of the pita is incredibly appealing to me. Not sure yet if the family has joined in my little love affair, but I am sure they will come around. If you have any other good pita recipes, please send them my way. We will try them (just so long as any other necessary ingredients can be found at the souk.).

The Week in Photos

Morning is the time to beat the crowds in the Christian Quarter of the Old City.

Morning prayers at the Wailing Wall

Empty street on edge of Muslim and Jewish Quarters in the Old City

You can skate in Jerusalem

Before skating, make sure you stop by the Kippa man and get a proper head-covering.

The Russian Orthodox Church on Mount of Olives seen from Haas Promenade near our house.

Spice bins at the Mahane Yehuda Market. Make sure you make a good "phlem" sound when pronouncing the "h" in Mahane.

Cheese... as if you can't read the signs

The gate and the car that Jesus used to enter the city. Actually this is the Zion Gate in a portion of the wall rebuilt in the 1540's. Notice the bullet holes throughout the wall that are remnants from the 1948 war between Jordon and Israel.

Jesus.... okay, this really isn't Jesus

Don't Sweat the Big Stuff

My kids have incredible imaginations. They truly never cease to amaze me in how they can make something out of almost nothing. At home in California, I have witnessed bunk beds turn into castles, sand turn into Egyptian pyramids, and couch cushions turn into tunnels. The boys can go for a hike along the creek near our home, and turn into real scientists on a quest for a new archeological find. Even a peanut butter sandwich, if bitten in the right pattern, can turn into a pumpkin, or a bat, or part of the solar system. It can be a bit exhausting trying to keep up with them, but it is also a great joy to see their creativity run wild. When Ryan brought up the possibility of this move to Israel, and the world travel that comes with it, I had several concerns. (I wont list them all here but you can probably guess some of them!). One of my concerns was that the boys imaginations might be lessened a bit by the magnitude of the real sights that we would see. Suddenly, the boys are standing in the courtyard of a real castle, are travelling to Egypt to touch the pyramids, are actually making a playground out of a real archeological sight. Will they still be able to make a tunnel out of couch cushions, when for fun Ryan is taking them to a tunnel built by the biblical prophet Hezekiah some 2600 years ago?

Are we making it impossible to enjoy the small things in life when we are exposing them to the biggest things?

My concerns were first diminished some when we reached London, and I saw my second oldest son rolling on the grass in front of Westminster Chapel. And then when we got to Tel Aviv, and although yes, it was the Mediteranean sea, the boys were digging for pirate treasure and jumping in the waves the same as always. By the time we got to Jerusalem, I was definitely starting to feel better. We didnt bring any toys with us, and shortly after arriving here, I found the boys sword-fighting with clothes hangers, and wrestling with....couch cushions. Every day at the park, the boys first run around trying to find litter (plastic spoons and paper cups to be precise), to dig and build with - to build things like pyramids, and to dig things like tunnels that will lead them to underground chambers with new discoveries. Our craft time includes searching for twigs and leaves to turn into masterpieces, and my oldest son can still travel to the solar system and beyond with only a pen and paper.

This week we celebrated Halloween in Jerusalem (I think we were the only ones). I went to the market and bought some Israeli candy. My oldest son dressed up in cargo pants and a skateboarding t-shirt, and cut out some round medallions from a cereal box - he was an archeologist who discovers pirate treasure. My second son, draped towels over each arm, and cut out a mask with pointy ears from the same cereal box - he was a bat. My youngest son sat on his bouncy seat with some candy on his legs - and got to be one of the trick or treat stops for the boys. So I guess as a four month old, he got to be a house for Halloween! Ryan went to one room in the house with his candy, I went to another, and Benja to another (he didnt actually go by himself...he cant walk yet). The two other boys knocked on doors and we oohed and ahhed over their costumes, and gave them candy. They were just as excited (and loud) as they are at home doing trick or treating. Afterwards, we had our kosher cheese pizza and apple cider, and our second son said "this is the best Halloween Ever!" So I am thinking it is safe to say that the Big stuff cannot keep our kids from enjoying the small.

Although one of our children is planning an "Egypt" themed 8th birthday party...on location. That just might ruin future birthdays for him...but probably not.

Buses, Bricks, & Books

After a few weeks of living in Israel certain things become routine and familiar.
At first, I found myself intrigued by every ancient-looking structure and overwhelmed by the lack of any familiar writing on signs and storefronts. The first week here I would ask myself things like, “Where is the safest place to sit on the bus in case of a suicide bomber?” And I would make clever observations such as, “There seems to be a lot of Jewish people here”.
Now I am quickly beginning to feel like a local. Each day I head to the bus stop and manage to get on the correct bus in route to the University. I am able to understand the Israeli bus system and schedule. A basic rule of thumb in Israel is go to your bus stop anytime of the day and you are guaranteed to wait 20 minutes for your bus. No schedules are published because in Israel the bus comes when it comes and that is the schedule. So I get on my bus and drive across town past the old city and on to Mount Scopus.
Driving across Jerusalem I see what have now become quite familiar sites; Wine and cheese shops on every street, fruit markets located within each neighborhood, outdoor café’s, an incredible number of book stores (Israel is known to read more books per capita than any other country), and a consistent and comforting presence by Israeli police and military personnel. I even can read every sign (although I do not understand everything I read). The ride that once captivated my every thought has already become a 25-minute period of time that I can use to read and prepare for class.
En route to the University we pass piles of bricks that form the structures of some of the world’s most famous buildings. We pass sections of the city wall that were built around the time of Christ with the remaining wall being rebuilt in the 1500’s. Once passing through the city I come across another pile of bricks that make up Hebrew University. It is my oasis in a bustling city. After passing through strenuous security checks I enter a world of brick buildings among manicured green lawns and tall shade trees. Students from all over the world stroll the halls and relax in the courtyard. I almost feel guilty while enjoying the serenity of the college campus knowing that below the hill just south of here is the busy city of Jerusalem and a very short distance east is the entrance to the West Bank.
I spend my days in a combination of intense courses focusing on the historical setting of the bible and the world of early Christianity and in full immersion Hebrew classes. I realize that if I didn’t use the Hebrew language to study the Bible my efforts would be somewhat useless. With Israel being the only country in the world speaking Hebrew, this intense language study is all for the purpose of communicating with a population roughly the same as the state of Mississippi. Can you imagine putting forth the effort it would take to understand the language of the people in Mississippi just for one year of study? (Mississippi-English doesn’t even have any classic texts to study so that is one language I am not intent on learning.)
Back to the point; my impression of the University and level of scholarship I am immersed with is one of awe. The intellect of the people in my classes and the knowledge of the subject matter by the professors is considerably higher than anything I have experienced in the states. I will face a challenge this year to keep up and to produce a high level of acceptable academic work but this is why I am here so the challenge is appealing. The question becomes what will this year of intense academic and social study lead to? That is a question better left for a later time but for now I will sit outside on the campus while I wait for my next class (Biblical Archaeology) to begin.

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.

Coming October 3rd 2007