Church on Sunday-
My last visit to Israel included an a-ha moment at the Dome of the Rock, when it hit me that I was really in Israel. (Sometimes I am a bit slow!!) As I have described it several times since and my Concordia friends may understand, "I was in a Fiala photo." Dr. Fiala was one of my professors at Concordia and he would put together slideshows from his travels that pertained to whatever unit we had just covered in his class. He had shown several photos of the Dome of the Rock through the three years I took his classes. It was a startling realization to me when I found myself standing pretty much where he had taken the picture from. (I now have several of my own Dome of the Rock photos).
My a-ha moment this trip was while sitting in worship in St. John's Chapel at the Church of the Redeemer. The first hymn was "Angels from the Realms of Glory." I love singing that hymn and was singing along when we came to the part about the shepherds in the fields abiding and was struck by the thought that I was where I was singing about. Or rather less than 10 miles from Bethlehem. I was singing Christmas music in the land where CHristmas began! I almost had to sit down the thought was so staggering. The Christmas tree stood to the right of the alter with its lights blinking. The light shining through the windows from the palm and flower filled courtyard, and I was here, really here.
I also had a small world moment at church as I sat in a Lutheran Church in Jerusalem and discovered that the majority of the people around me were from Minnesota! The Pastor and his wife were from Minneapolis. There were many other who were just visiting and happened to be from Minnesota as well. Not only was worship in the familiar liturgy, but it was also in a familiar accent!
Impressions from my walk through the Old City on Sunday morning.
My friend, Patrick, commented on my facebook page about his memories of walking through the Old City in the early morning and how much he enjoyed and recommended it. I too had that opportunity on Sunday. I had walked the streets of the Old City before, but never that early or alone. My mom won't want to hear this, but I wasn't scared. Vigilant, but not scared. The birds were singing. The City was awakening for a new week. Shopkeepers were opening their shops. In some areas, fresh bread and pastries steamed with just from the oven warmth. The air hung heavy with their smells. The sun shone bright and WARM. (A big deal having just arrived from Minnesota!) In one darker area, a stack of pastries were lit from the inside of the stack and glowed into the darkness. A group of Israeli soldiers congregated in fron tof a pizzeria! As I walked along the street, I passed in and out of the sunlight. Bells from the Christian Churches peel out their call to worship. Voices call to one another in languages I can not understand, but with emotion and meaning I can guess. Familiar, vaguely remembered, landmarks appear. The street climbs a hill and passes through an arch. Children scurry through the streets. Doors of various colors and sizes cut into the high walls on either side of the street. Suddenly rounding a corner and looking up, the bell tower of the Lutheran Church appears above the buildings. I stop (to catch my breathe as well as to enjoy) to breathe in the sights, sounds, smells, and everything around me and to smile.
Enough observations for now. I will write more in the morning. Shalom!
