Once More From Cambridge

Another warm day here in England.  I think it might actually get up to 80 F. or so.  There's not much to report, but a few observations come to mind. 

One is about the church where most of our meetings take place.  Greater St. Mary's is about a mile from the college where we're staying.  It's right in the middle of Cambridge, just across the road from King's College (the academic heart of the university).  The church has its own long history.  There's a hanging on one wall listing all the vicars (senior pastors) who have served the congregation.  I counted; there have been 84.  The first began his tenure in 1206.  The building where we're worshiping dates back to the late 1400s. 

However, the best-known theologian who is associated with the building was not its vicar.  His name was Martin Bucer.  Bucer played a major role in the Reformation in Europe, in the 1500s.  He is especially remembered for trying to forge unity between the Swiss Reformer Ulrich Zwingli and the German Reformer Martin Luther.  He chaired an important meeting at which Luther and Zwingli were personally present.  After discussion, the two men reached agreement on 13 of the 14 items on the agenda.  Their sole remaining difference had to do with the Lord's Supper.  Zwingli argued that Communion is simply a remembrance of Christ's death.  Luther, whose position was much closer to that of the Roman Catholic Church, believed that Christ is actually present in the Supper.  They could not bridge this divide; thus the chance for unity among two major branches of the Reformation was scuttled. 

Like many other Reformers, Bucer was eventually forced into exile.  He chose to go to England, where he became a theology professor here in Cambridge (by this time, Henry VIII had established the Church of England).  Bucer attended Greater St. Mary's and was buried there when he died.  But his struggles continued even in death.  Queen Mary, who briefly brought England back into the Roman Catholic Church, arranged for Bucer's body to be removed from its grave and burned.  As far as she was concerned, no Reformer was going to be buried in Cambridge's main church!  After she died, and after England had securely established the Anglican Church, Bucer's ashes were reinterred in Greater St. Mary's, where they remain to this day.

So Cambridge has some great history.  But it's also a very up-to-date place.  I wandering down a street near the church this morning and ran across a theater (where they show plays, not movies).  A play is scheduled for later in the month whose lead performer will be Ian McKellen (Gandalf in Lord of the Rings, you may recall).  There aren't many small college towns where you could see that caliber of actor.  But after awhile those sorts of things start to seem ordinary.  It's just a different world and you get used to inhabiting it.

But not for much longer!  Tomorrow morning we leave Oxford.  We'll spend the night at a missionary center/hotel in London.  Then Friday we go to Heathrow Airport to begin our odyssey across the Atlantic and then across the U.S. 

Punting on the Cam, Ship of the Fens

Cambridge is Oxford's rival institution here in England.  Both are great universities, both teem with tourists (Connie and among them!), both are expensive.  But they are meccas for artists and intellectuals.  This evening as I sit in my room at Robinson College (on the Cambridge campus) I can hear the sounds of a Shakespeare play being presented just on the other side of the lawn.  It's a performance of Much Ado About Nothing, presented for free by a troupe of professional actors.  The next three nights will see three other plays on the same stage.  There's stuff like that going on all over town.  Musicians are everywhere, playing all sorts of "English" sounding music.  There's classical musical available in various venues.  Last night Connie and I went to a performance of modern dance sponsored by the C.S. Lewis Conference that we're attending.  Culturally it's just a very rich environment.

We arrived here Saturday afternoon and immediately plunged ourselves into the Cambridge scene.  There's a small river that flows through campus, the Cam, on which people "punt."  Punts are long, narrow, flat boats guided by young men or women who stand on the stern, using long poles to push the punt along the surface of the water.  It's like riding in a gondola in Venice.  Anyway, there were dozens of these punts out on the water and it was like Grand Central Station but we got on anyway and took a forty minute ride through campus.  Among the highlights of the tour is Cambridge's pre-eminent school, King's College.  It's best known as the place from whence the "original" Nine Lessons and Carols are broadcast on Christmas Eve.

On Sunday we attended a Bible-believing Anglican Church in Cambridge.  Interestingly, it supports financially the Anglican Church we attended the first Sunday we were in Jerusalem.  There is a great deal of theological liberalism in the Church of England, but it is by no means universal.  This particular congregation is a gathering place for Cambridge students and has quite a lively ministry.  The sermon was excellent: textual, practical and well-delivered (about praying in times of crisis, based on Acts 4:35ff.).

In the afternoon we all boarded buses (there are 300 of us at the conference) for a ride out to the small town of Ely.  The country around Ely is flat (known as "the fens") and the purpose of our visit became evident as we neared the village: out in the flat country, in this small town, stands a giant ancient cathedral, first begun in the 1100s and known as one of the "7 wonders of the medieval world."  It's like Notre Dame or Westminster Abbey, but it's not lost amid the tall buildings of Paris or London; it towers over the countryside.  People call it "The Ship of the Fens," and it has been the focal point of life in that region for centuries.  Right now it is best known for the fact that scenes from the movie The King's Speech were filmed there.  The coronation scene, to be specific, which is to say that Ely served as a stand-in for Westminster Abbey.  They had on display that "throne" Colin Firth sat on; Connie tried to get me to sit in it for a picture.  I refused.  Anyway, it is a magnificent structure, like the other great cathedrals we've seen but with its own unique character.  One is simply agog at the craftsmanship, the technology and the massive scale of these places--together with all the effort that went into giving God the very best.

We were there for a special evensong service.  Our guest preacher was a man named John Polkinghorne, who is President of Queens College at Cambridge.  Polkinghorne is a theoretical physicist turned theologian; a few years ago he won the Templeton Prize, the religous world's equivalent of the Nobel Prize.  So it was interesting, although I must admit that I'm growing a little weary of high church services.  Afterwards we walked down the street a short distance to the birthplace of Oliver Cromwell, who in the 1600s led a revolt that resulted in the deposing and beheading of England's king, Charles I.  For a few years after that, Cromwell ruled England as "Lord Protector."  After a time, though, England's monarchy was restored.  It was during Cromwell's protectorate that The Westminster Confession of Faith and its accompanying catechisms were written.

The C.S. Lewis Conference has an extensive schedule of events every day.  We try to take in as many of them as we can.  This morning, for example, we heard a sermon (by someone whose name I can't recall), then heard an address by Jonathan Aitken, a former member of British Parliament.  Lastly, there was a message by Randy Alcorn (from Gresham!), who has written extensively about heaven and gave a good talk on that subject.  This afternoon I attended a 3-hour seminar on faith and politics; Connie attended something of similar length but differing subject matter.  This evening there is a play based on Lewis' book Till We Have Faces.  Connie, whose energy and curiosity are unflagging, went to the play: I stayed home to blog.

There are many accomplished people at the conference.  The first day I met a man named Tom O'Boyle, who teaches journalism at a college in Pittsburgh.  A few years ago he wrote a best-selling book called At Any Cost: Jack Welch, General Electric and the Pursit of Profit.  It was reviewed in The New York Times (a big deal if you're a writer).  The book was quite critical of Welch.  Tom told me he was frustrated by the reactions he got, mostly because they were so predictable: pro-business types disliked it; liberals loved it.  He told me he didn't have an axe to grind; he just wanted to find out what made Jack Welch tick.  Turned out it was pretty much money.  So if you happen to pick up Tom's book, just remember it was written by a conservative evangelical who prays with his wife at every meal (I sat next to them at dinner tonight).  He came to the conference because he has another book in mind: about the friendship of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis in the 5 or so years leading up to Lewis' conversion (in which Tolkien was very instrumental).

I think the Shakespeare play is over. 

We had warm weather today, at least by English standards.  We're just a few days from returning to our home in beautiful Oregon.  It's been a great trip and of course you don't like to see such things come to an end, but we are ready to sleep in our own bed and be with our own family.  Give me another month or so and I will be ready to return to my calling as a pastor.  In the meantime, I will need the next few weeks to sort out everything I've seen and how the Lord is speaking to me through it.

Oxford and Vicinity

Today is transitional.  Together with the rest of the C.S. Lewis Conference attendees, we leave by bus for Cambridge University, where we will stay the next 4 nights.

Oxford has been busy but enjoyable.  Yesterday we went out to C.S. Lewis' home, called "The Kilns," where he and his brother and later he and his wife lived.  It's a cottage that he bought mainly because of the 9 beautiful acres that surrounded it.  Today, as you might imagine, it's surrounded by newer homes.  The pond that was originally part of the acreage has been donated to some government entity and has been designated as a nature preserve.  Our guide suggested that the pond and its environs served as the immediate inspiration for the landscape and the animal characters in Lewis' Narnia Chronicles.  It seemed like a believable proposition to me.

As I think I mentioned in my previous entry, we've been staying at Keble College on the Oxford campus.  Most our our meetings have been held at St. Mary the Virgin Anglican Church, about a half mile down the road.  Many Oxford buildings and churches have an interesting history; St. Mary's is no exception.  One of the key figures in the English Reformation was a man named Thomas Cranmer, who was Archibishop of Canterbury and author of The Book of Common Prayer, one of the most influential worship resources ever written.  Cranmer was instrumental in setting up the Church of England under King Henry VIII, but was caught up in the ever-changing church scene that unfolded in the years following Henry's death.  Under Queen Mary (who was Roman Catholic), Cranmer (apparently) agreed to give up the Reformed faith.  But in a dramatic sermon given in the very church where we've been meeting, Cranmer took back his recantation, declared his loyalty to the Reformation, and was taken down the street to the entrance to Balliol College, where he and his companion, Hugh Ridley, were burned at the stake.  As the flames licked his body, he is supposed to have cried out "Play the man (be a man), Master Ridley; we shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out."   

Thus endeth the history lesson. 

One thing I've enjoyed at Keble is the traditional English breakfast.  You can have fruit and toast if you like, but the English breakfast will stick to your ribs: ham, sausage, a poached egg, a whole boiled tomato, toast and . . . beans (as in pork and beans).  I ate it every morning. 

Connie is out buying souvenirs.  I must finish packing, check out and get on the Cambridge bus.    

A Look Back at Holland

I promised a few days ago that I would tell about our 2-day trip to The Netherlands.  Here goes.

We arrived by train from Paris, non-stop to Brussels then on to Amsterdam.  It was the only time on our trip when we got a meal on the train.  Like you used to get on airplanes.  We got into Amsterdam late in the afternoon, then took a local train about 10 miles west to the city of Haarlem (yes, that's where Harlem in New York City got its name; NYC used to be a Dutch colony). 

When we got to Haarlem, we walked maybe 10 blocks to our hotel, which was in the central square close by the "Groote Kerk," the Great Church, which at one time was Roman Catholic but became Reformed when Holland gained its indpendence from Spain.  These days the Reformed Church is the state church of The Netherlands, in the same way that the Anglican Church is the state church of England.  The official designation doesn't seem to count for much.  Holland feels so secular that "church" would be in the past tense if it wasn't a noun.

The next morning we took a short walk to the house where Corrie Ten Boom used to live.  If you don't know about Corrie Ten Boom, I highly recommend her book The Hiding Place or the very fine film by the same name that was made in 1975.  Together with her father and sister, she hid Jews in her house until they were discovered in 1944.  Subsequently, her whole family was sent to concentration camps, where her sister and father died.  Corrie became a traveling evangelist after the war and continued that work until shortly before she died.  The house and the tour were quite impressive.  We saw where people were hidden, the great lengths that were taken to protect those who hid, and the danger involved in this kind of activity.  Our tour guide was a older woman who was very frank about Corrie's Christian commitment and the importance of accepting Christ as one's savior.  We spent a very edifying hour there.

That afternoon we took the train into Amsterdam and visited the Rijksmuseum, something that Connie had been anticipating for some time.  She loves the Dutch masters: Rembrandt, Vermeer, etc., so we spent a very enjoyable time looking at the Rijksmuseum's outstanding collection.  Later we wandered through some of Amsterdam's beautiful older neighborhoods (no, we didn't go to its infamous red light district!), along canals, on cobblestone streets.  We walked past the house where Anne Frank took refuge during the war.  We would have gone in but there was a large crowd waiting to be admitted. 

One thing I must comment on is the staggering number of bicycles one sees in Holland.  They say there are as many bikes there as people and I believe it.  One reason, I suppose, is that the country is pretty much flat as a pancake, and thus conducive to this mode of transportation.  The other reason (which Holland shares with every other country we've been to) is that gas costs about 8 dollars a gallon, which makes you think twice about getting in your car (assuming you own one).

We only spent two nights in Holland, so the next morning we got up and (ahem) took the bus to England.  This was one part of our trip that we didn't plan very well.  If we had shopped early, we could have flown from Amsterdam to London for about $60 apiece.  That price had climbed considerably by the time we got ready to buy, so the bus became our cheapest alternative.  Twelve hours through every Tom, Dick and Harry town in Holland, Belgium and northern France.  We saw lots of country and got our first real taste of European freeway driving.  However, we don't recommend this mode of travel.  It just took too long.

But the "chunnel" from France to England was sort of interesting.  We arrived at the embarkation point, where we had to go through French customs.  They made us take all our baggage off the bus and run it through their x-ray machines.  Frederick, our driver, informed us that sometimes they do this, sometimes they don't.  Which was okay.  But then we got on the bus, drove 50 yards, got off the bus and went through British customs.  At least they didn't want to look at our luggage.  So finally we go to go in the chunnel.  Only it wasn't what I expected.   I can't speak for cars or trains, but buses that go through the chunnel are loaded onto long trains.  You drive into what looks like an incredibly long trailer (ours stretched maybe a quarter-mile), only there are train tracks beneath it.  The bus drives as far to the front as possible.  Then dividers come down in front and in back of the bus, separating it from vehicles in front and in back of it.  Finally the train starts to move.  At first you csee light through the little windows on the sides of the train.  Then everything goes black as you enter the chunnel.  It takes about half an hour to get to the other side (the English Channel is 20 miles wide at its narrowest point).  Then when you come out you're in England!  I had great admiration for our driver, Frederick.  As soon as we left the train, he had to switch from driving on the right side of the road (Europe) to the left side (England).  He handled it like a pro.  From there it took us about an hour to get to London. 

London Then to Cambridge

I'm finally in a place where I can connect to the internet in my room, so it will be easier to write.

Yesterday (Monday?) was spent in London and it was pretty neat.  We started at Buckingham Palace, where we saw the Changing of the Guard.  They spend an hour doing what could be accomplished in ten minutes, but it's fun to watch the red coated soldiers march precisely and listen to their officers shout out commands in their British accents.  Buckingham Palace is big but not so impressive architecturally.

Then it was on to the British Library (not to be confused with the British Museum).  The Museum is about historical artifacts, the Library is about historical documents.  We spent our time in just one room.  Without question, it contains the greatest single collection of historical documents anywhere in the world (not copies, not photographs, but the actual pieces of paper themselves).  Just to mention a few:

1. G.F. Handel's original score (full orchestration) of Messiah.  All the notes are scribbled there, together with the words, and you wonder "How could he write this whole thing  in 24 days?"  But he did.

2. Captain Robert Scott's journal from his Antarctic expedition in 1911 when he and his companions froze to death in their tent 11 miles from a food depot.  Scott's handwriting is in pencil; the little volumes are in amazing condition considering that he carried them with him the whole way. 

3. The Magna Carta, written in 1215, the first written attempt to limit the rights of kings in relation to their subjects.

4. Codex Sinaiticus, the oldest complete copy of the New Testament, dated to the 300s.  Found at a monastery on Mt. Sinai.  An absolutely priceless document and extremely important for New Testament studies. 

5. Just for fun: original copies of lyrics to several Beatles songs, handwritten by Lennon and McCartney themselves.  Including Michelle (McCartney), A Hard Day's Night (Lennon), Yesterday (McCartney), Ticket to Ride and Help! (both Lennon).  One of the Lennon songs is scratched on the back of a birthday card he had given to his son Julian for his first birthday.

This room was probably the most amazing single thing I've seen on our trip.  My eyes nearly popped out of my head.  Multiple times.

I figured everything would be downhill after that, but it was a great afternoon.  Just up the street from 10 Downing Street is an underground warren of rooms that served as headquarters for the British government during much of World War II, especially when the Germans were bombing London every day.  Rooms for cabinet meetings, Mrs. Churchill's bedroom, etc.  Attached to these rooms is a large museum devoted to Winston Churchill.  If you are ever in London, this is a place you won't want to miss.  I think we paid 12 pounds to get in but it was worth it.

Then Connie suggested we ride over to Abbey Road and she would take my picture in the intersection where the cover photo for the Beatles' Abbey Road album was snapped.  It was pretty funny.  The street was busy with traffic and there were about 20 people trying to do the same we were: get their picture taken at the Abbey Road crosswalk without getting run over.  But the drivers were patient; they knew why people were there.  So we got some pictures of me crossing the intersection.  They're not at all like the photo on the album cover, but it's the same place. 

By the way, the Abbey Road Studio, where the Beatles did much of their recording, is immediately adjacent to the intersection and still functions as a studio today.  In fact, the neighborhood looks pretty much as it did when the album cover was shot back in 1969. 

Today was a travel day, but not a big one.  We took the tube (subway) to Paddington Station and traveled an hour north to Oxford and its university.  It is just as you might imagine: medieval buildings all over the place; spires and churches and university buildings.  We are here for the C.S. Lewis Institute Oxbridge Conference.  Four days at Oxford, four days at Cambridge University (Lewis taught at both schools).  Our "digs" are at Keble College (one of the many colleges that make up Oxford University), in a dorm room on the 4th floor.  We had dinner tonight in a place that looks very much like the Hogwarts dining hall in Harry Potter.  Afterwards we attended a worship service at a beautiful Anglican church down the road a few blocks.  There was a reception on the lawn afterwards with canapes and beverages in champagne glasses (although there was no alcohol).  Connie and I felt a little out of place due to the fact that we didn't pack any dress clothes.  Oh well.

The preacher for the week is Dr. Earl Palmer, who until his recent retirement was senior pastor at University Presbyterian Church in Seattle.  He was quite effective and I enjoyed listening.  But it's the first real sermon I've heard in many weeks and it reminded me of my vocation, which is to preach in my congregation.  Believe me, I miss it and will be ready to begin anew once September rolls around, d.v.

London Calling

I could tell about our time in Holland but I think I will wait until after I write about London.  We got here Friday night July 22, arriving at Victoria Station, one of several enormous London transport centers/train stations.  It was raining.  We didn't know how to use the transit system.  We couldn't figure out where we were.  We ran into a couple of dodgy characters whom I can't describe in a "family" blog.  Thank goodness for Connie, who reads maps, reasons things out and points the way.  I trot along behind.  We didn't get to our hotel until 11:30 and the door was locked.  Finally we rousted the night manager and were let into our room--which turned out to be just fine.  We slept in a little, then got up and attacked London town.
Frankly, we're just doing the things you have to do when you come here.  We visited the Tower of London (across the Thames from where we're staying), where we saw the crown jewels and the place where British kings used to torture their subjects in the bad old days.  I must admit that buildings from the 11 and 12-hundreds no longer impress me.  Israel and its ruins make everything else look almost new.  However, the Tower of London is impressive and absolutely central to the story of Great Britain.

After the Tower of London, we took a long walk along the Thames, west toward Parliament, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, 10 Downing Street, etc.  It was a fabulous view.  The Tower Bridge (looking very medieval), the London Eye (a giant ferris wheel erected not so many years ago), St. Paul's Cathedral (more about that later).  Time was getting away from us so we hopped a (not-so-fast) bus and eventually got over to Westminster Abbey, where as you may recall, Prince Edward married his Kate a couple of months ago. 

Westminster Abbey is in one sense a grand cathedral.  In that sense it is like Notre Dame in Paris.  What makes it different from Notre Dame is that it functions as Britain's cultural memory bank.  So you have all these famous people who are either buried there or memorialized along its walls, with a plaque or perhaps an opulent statue.  Some of those honored seemed appropriate in a church: T.S. Eliot, G.F. Handel, Isaac Newton, to name a few.  Others, though, seemed like they should have been elsewhere: D.H. Lawrence (Lady Chatterly's Lover) and Charles Dawin to name a couple.  Oh, well.  Needless to say, Britain is not a Christian nation these days and in some ways the Abbey makes that clear.

However, the church's worship life goes on without missing a beat.  We stayed for evensong at 5 p.m. (basically music and scripture readings).  There was a marvelous guest choir; we got to sit in the choir stalls right next to them.  It's just an incredibly magnificent church that truly soars; we felt transported.  Required for all London visitors!

Afterwards we walked by Downing Street (which is blocked off).  Just beyond we took a detour and wandered into the area where they're building the beach volleyball venue for the 2012 Olympics (they'll be held in London).  There's Olympic construction underway in various parts of the city; the tube system (subway) is being upgraded, with the result that some lines are closed, especially on weekends.  By the way, the London mass transit system, like that of Paris and Rome, is highly developed, highly reliable and generally inexpensive.  The trains run on time, they're clean and seem very safe.  We ended the day with a walk up into London's West End Theater District, where we bought tickets for a musical.

Today turned out to be sunny and mild, our first such day since we left Chambery, France.  The high was near 70, which is about as warm as London gets.  First thing, we got on the tube and went to St. Paul's Cathedral (where Prince Charles and Diana were married many years ago).  It's the largest Anglican Cathedral in the world (truly gigantic), was designed by the famous architect, Christophere Wren, and is another of those "must-sees" if you're a church person.  We attended the11 o'clock service which was basically traditional Anglican worship on steroids.  Full orchestra, choir, preaching, holy communion and just for the icing on the cake, the communion service was accompanied by Beethoven's "Mass in C Major."  You may be familiar with such-and-such a composer's "Mass in G" or whatever.  Well, those were intended to be used as part of an actual communion service.  So that instead of saying the creed, the choir and the orchestra would perform it, etc.  And of course if you're talking about worship on steroids, you might as well have composer on steroids, too, which fits Beethoven to a tee.  So it was pretty special.  What's more, we got there early and got to sit in the first two seats in the front row.  Right under the enormous dome of St. Paul's (as big and beautiful as the U.S. Capitol).  Pretty good for a couple of rubes from Portland, Or-a-gone!

This afternoon we tubed over to the British Museum, arguably the greatest historical museum in the world.  We didn't have enough time but we saw some great stuff, including the Rosetta Stone, which is how archeologists learned how to read Egyptian hieroglyphics.  Then, just to prove we aren't so terribly serious, we went to our musical.  It was called Jersey Boys, basically the story of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, the rock band from back in the '60s.  Light, frothy, with familiar music (Sherry! Sherry Baby!, etc.) and basically just good fun.  Then we had burritos at Chipotle (yes, we broke down and ate American food) and took the tube back to our hotel. 

Don't ask me what we're doing tomorrow because I can't think straight right now. 

Just a word about London: one travel writer says that Paris is an urban garden, but that London is an urban jungle.  I agree.  Not because London is dangerous, but because it is all jumbled together in a manner that's not quite coherent.  Old buildings stand next to new ones and they don't fit.  Of course, this kind of juxtapositioning can be done so that the results are pleasing to the eye.  But it hasn't worked that way in London, at least in my opinion.  On the other hand, the city is so energetic, so filled with people, so multi-cultural, that you get caught up in the spirit of the place and it's a joy to be here.  I must say I like it better than Paris, but of course that is my taste.  Maybe part of it is being back where everybody speaks English.  It is true that England is more like America than anyplace else we've been.

Paris on the Run

Well, I haven't checked in for a few days.  Paris was great but we were on the move all the time, so writing time was hard to come by.  Here follows a brief report.

We arrived on Saturday the 16th, late in the afternoon.  It was a quick trip by high speed train.  Lliterally, we were there before we knew it.  The train stopped, everyone got off, we sat there thinking they must be transferring.  So we sat there by ourselves.  Then a train employee walked by and said something in French.  I think it was, "Why are you still on the train?"

Connie said, "We're going to Paris."

The guy pointed out the window and said "Paree!"

We said, "This is Paris?"

Then he said something else in French.  I think it was: "Get off!"  So we did. 

You have to understand that European travel schedules are written differently than ours.  If a train arrives at 3 p.m., the schedule will say "15:00," meaning 12 noon plus 3 hours equals 15, like the military.  We didn't look carefully and thought "15:00" meant "5 p.m."  So by our reckoning we got there two hours early. 

After that, we figured out how to use Paris' excellent subway system and found our hotel.  Only in the meantime, the weather decided to take a nosedive.  By the time we checked in, got back on the Metro and got off at the Eiffel Tower, it was raining like someone had just built the Ark.  We stood under an awning and watched raindrops bounce off the sidewalk.  Then we went into a cafe and had a tuna fish sandwich (this is sounding more romantic all the time, isn't it?).  Finally we said "Nuts!" and went back to the hotel.

The next day was Sunday, so we started at the Cathedral of Notre Dame ("Notre Dame" meaning "Our Lady").  We sat through a brief praise service and really enjoyed it, especially the music which was performed by an organist and two (female) vocalists.  The previous Sunday we had been in St. Peter's in Rome, and after St. Peters, anything else would seem intimate, even a great Gothic cathedral like Notre Dame.  It had the quintessential high, soaring ceiling, together with gorgeous (though somewhat understated) stained glass windows.  It felt like a church.  By comparison, St. Peter's felt like a statement ("This is the biggest, most glorious church in the world and don't you forget it!).  Construction on Notre Dame began in the 12th century; I loved it.

Afterwards we walked around the small island where the cathedral is located and adjusted to the fact that though it had stopped raining, the wind had come up and the temperature had gone down.  It felt like mid-October, not mid-July.  So we walked down the boulevard (in Paris we did a lot of walking) and spent the afternoon at the Louvre, Paris' great art museum.

The Louvre is comparable to The Vatican Museum in terms of the sheer amount of art; both are staggeringly large.  The difference is that there are times when the Vatican feels like somebody decided to empty the attic ("Let's put all our statues in this big hall here"), whereas at the Louvre great care has been taken as to how the art is presented.  Besides that, the building and the rooms themselves are architectural works of art. Yes, we saw the Mona Lisa and the Winged Victory of Samothrace statue and some truly astounding Medieval tapestries.  I saw so much art that my eyes are still bulging.  But let me compare it for just a moment with the Musee de Orsay, which we visited this morning just before we left Paris.  The Orsay is famous for its Impressionist collection: Gauguin, Van Gogh, Monet, Manet, Renoir, Cezanne, Millet, etc.  We spent a mere hour there, but on one floor they had put together the most remarkable exhibit of beautiful art I will ever see.  I walked by and said "Yup, seen that one in a book.  Yup, seen that one on a CD cover."  Or else, "Never seen that one before, but it's fabulous."  Oh, and just as an added highlight, they threw in "Whistler's Mother."  I probably only saw 200 paintings but I have never left a museum more satisfied.

After we visited the Louvre that afternoon we spent the early evening at the Eiffel Tower, waited in line for quite a while and finally took an elevator to the 400-foot level; I think at the top it's about a thousand feet high.  Obviously a great view of the city, which in itself became a revelation. You have to understand that Paris is very large; much bigger than Rome in my estimation.  And that unlike Rome, where famous buildings or fountains or ruins seem to show up haphazardly, in Paris everything is carefully arranged.  The buildings are placed just so, the avenues come together as they should, the streetsweepers in their green uniforms are everywhere.  The city is stately, resplendent with a sense of its own history and beauty, very conscious of its continuing role as perhaps the world's leading arbiter of taste.

On Monday we took the Metro over to the Arc de Triomphe and walked down the Champ Elysees.  Then we took a two-and-a-half hour train ride out to Normandy, where the D-Day invasion took place on June 6, 1944.  This was in part to honor my dad, who came ashore June 10, 1944, walked up the beach and saw bodies stacked like cordwood.  We stayed in a little coastal town called Arromanches, which is right on "Juno" beach, where British and Canadian troops fought.  It looks a lot like Cannon Beach, except that instead of Haystack rock, there are all these big, rusted-out hulks that look like barges but are actually left over from D-Day.  They had to build a huge artificial harbor as part of the invasion process; the "hulks" were lined up by the dozens and functioned like jetties.  An important visual reminder of what happened there.  The next day we toured some of the other D-Day beaches and took the train back to Paris.  That night we walked to the Eiffel Tower.  After dark it is bathed in golden light, once an hour or so they turn on little lightbulbs so that it twinkles like a Christmas tree.  If you want to impress that "special someone," take her to the Eiffel Tower at night.

Today, after we visited the Musee d'Orsay, we got on the train again and headed for Holland.  Tonight we are in Haarlem, a short distance outside Amsterdam.  Tomorrow: more art museums!  Maybe a bike ride out to the North Sea!  If it doesn't rain!  If we have the energy!

Of Big Macs and Fireworks

Tonight we were sitting in Brandon and Rachel's apartment when we heard "booms" outside and realized the city of Chambery was shooting off fireworks.  A day after Bastille Day and I don't know why they waited but the display was pretty good.  We stood on their 6th floor balcony and watched with the dark outline of the Alps as backdrop.  It doesn't get much better than that!

Earlier today we got on a train, rode for an hour and got off at Geneva, just inside Switzerland.  It's a beautiful city, surrounded by mountains.  It's on Lake Geneva, which is huge.  From out of the west end of the lake flows the Rhone River, beginning its journey to the Mediterranean.

We had a great day and enjoyed ourselves.  Though relatively small (under 200,000 people) Geneva has many unique features.  To start with, it's one of the world's great financial capitals.  It's also the home of the World Health Organization and the International Red Cross. Besides that, it's where the U.N. has its European offices.  It's a pretty natural connection, since it was home to the League of Nations, forerunner to the U.N., in the years following World War I.

And of course it's where John Calvin lived for most of his adult life.  You can still see evidences of his presence.  The most visible is in a large park in the old part of the city.  There's a huge, long wall called "The Reformation Mural."  It tells the story of the Reformation in terms of the historical movement from Roman Catholic dominance to the eventual separation of church and state.  The centerpice is four huge statues, maybe 30 feet tall, of Theodore Beza, John Calvin, Guillermo Farel and John Knox.  Along the rest of the wall are statutes and then quotes from various church and state documents, including the Mayflower Compact, that emphasize the theme of human freedom from tyranny.  Not exactly what you hope for in a Reformation monument, in that it de-emphasizes the spiritual aspect of Calvin's work.  But not inaccuarate, and not bad for a city that has become decidedly secular in the 4 centuries since Calvin died.    

But I have to mention in closing what I learned from Wikipedia: that Geneva is the fourth most expensive city in the whole world!   This completely squares with our experience.  When we got there, it cost Connie a dollar-and-half to go to the bathroom (European bathrooms routinely charge, but this was the highest fee we've encountered).  I had a tuna fish sandwich for lunch; it cost 8 dollars.  I was tired of paying high prices so I thought, "I'll go to McDonald's for dinner and show them who's boss."  Silly me!  We got there and a Big Mac cost $13!  Without fries and drink!  So we went to a grocery store and bought some bakery items. 

We've had a pleasant stay here in Chambery.  We've especially enjoyed being with Brandon and Rachel, Annika and Alexa.  But tomorrow, speaking of expensive cities, we're going to Paris.  It should be quite a show.  I don't suppose we'll make a very big impression on Paris, but I suspect it will show us a thing or two.

Happy Bastille Day, one day late.

Bastille Day at Lac du Bourget

Yesterday it rained most of the time.  Late in the afternoon we went out with Brandon, Rachel and their girls.  Got rained on, but saw some of the city of Chambery.  It's not a tourist attraction, but it's a very nice place.  Lots of old buildings and the foothills of the Alps tower over the town.  I wouldn't mind spending a few more days here.

Today, July 14, is France's Independence Day--Bastille Day, they call it.  Brandon had the day off from French school so we decided to go to Lac du Bourget, a large, beautiful lake about 8 miles from here.  They don't own a car, so we rented bikes (including a little trailer for the twins to sit in) and headed out.  When we got there we enjoyed a wonderful lunch at a lakeside restaurant.  There were lots of people around and it was obviously a holiday but it didn't have the intense feel that you get with a 4th of July celebration in the states.  However, let me say it again: the lunch was wonderful!  Our first real sample of French cooking and we enjoyed it.

The lake itself is long and crescent-shaped.  Imagine the Columbia River Gorge twice as wide as it is, with a lake at the bottom instead of a river, and you get some sense for the type of country.  The most obvious difference is that the trees on the slopes are almost all deciduous; there aren't very many conifers.  It was very pleasant, in part because it's not nearly as hot here as it was in Italy.  Skies were mostly cloudy with temperatures in the low 70s.

Connie and I haven't been on a bike for at least 30 years so 16 miles round trip felt like quite a bit.  But our philosophy on this trip has been to do everything we can.  So we did just fine except that now I have sore tail bone from the bicycle seat. 

Tomorrow we catch a train at 7:30 a.m. and head for Geneva, Switzerland, where John Calvin changed the world through his teaching, preaching and reforming.  It's only an hour away and we're looking forward to it.

From Rome to France

We had a pleasant train trip today.  Leaving the apartment we'd been renting, we got onto the subway, rode it to the train station and boarded the Eurostar train headed north.  When we got to Milan we transferred to another Eurostar train headed west across the Alps into France.  We were fortunate enough to be able to go first class.  It's required with the rail pass we bought and it made for pleasant travel.

The country coming out of Milan was flat, with lots of cornfields, but after awhile we started seeing steep foothills, the first indicator that something lay ahead.  Then we climbed up a narrow valley, passing through many tunnels.  One of them was seven miles long!  The Alps are more like the Rockes than the Cascades; a solid wall of steep hillsides headed ever higher until you look way up and see something that's above the timberline.  There was very little snow, but the Alps are the real deal.  Using a map I was able to recognize one knife edge peak that's over 12 thousand feet high (about the same as Mt. Adams).  It's no accident that two Winter Olympics have been held in this region: Grenoble in 1968 and Albertville more recently.
After an eight hour trip we arrived in Chambery, France, where our niece, Rachel, her husband, Brandon and their 15-month old twins Anika and Alexa now live.  They are studying French in preparation for missionary service in Cameroon, an African country where French is the trade language.  They've only been here for two weeks (!) so we're the first family they've seen since they got here.  They live in a spacious 6th-floor apartment (no elevator) that includes a guest room where we will sleep.  We're really glad to have a chance to see what these dear folks are doing.  They plan to be here for 12-14 months, or until their French is good enough to see them through the work they'll be doing in Africa (Brandon will be a jungle pilot).  I've always thought that missionaries lead the most adventurous lives of anybody; Brandon and Rachel are living proof of the statement.
It was interesting going over the border between the two countries.  In Italy, the buildings all have red tile roofs and are painted in warm colors (yellow, sienna, gold, etc.).  France is a little different.  The houses and roofs tend to be darker, or else made of stone.  That small visual difference gives you the impression that France might be a more "serious" country than Italy, although obviously that's a gross generalization.  In fact, Brandon and Rachel have been warmly received here, thus disproving the caricature that the French are rude and snooty.  We look forward to getting out and meeting people ourselves, starting tomorrow.
It rained a bit tonight; only the second time we've seen rain since we left Portland.

Roman Sunday

 Today was Sunday.  We decided to attend worship at St. Peter's at the Vatican (i.e. the largest church in Christendom).  There was no English mass available so we attended the Latin service.  I felt like people did back in the "Dark Ages."  At that time, all Masses were said in Latin; only the learned (a very small group of people!) could understand what was being said.  So it was an enlightening experience to attend church and join so many in feeling ignorant.  I did enjoy the music, performed by a small guest choir, I think from Germany.  They were there at the invitation of the Vatican and seemed very excited about performing.  Their music was "classical," liturgical, contrapuntal, difficult and well-performed.

The afternoon was spent at a huge Roman ruin, Ostia Antica, located west of Rome out near the coast.  It's a fascinating place that's been excavated in the past 20 years.  It was Rome's port during its heyday and had a population of about 60 thousand people.  At some point (over time, actually) it became covered with mud as the harbor silted in.  As a result, the buildings were spared the ravages of weather, erosion, etc. and are remarkably well-preserved.  It was fun to get out of the city, into the country and to feel the breeze from the nearby Mediterranean.  It has been warm and humid here; you don't take off your clothes before getting in the shower, you peel them.  On the other hand, I like the predictable sunshine so I don't complain.

We took the Roman subway to Ostia Antica.  It's a very good system; trains come every 4 minutes.  It cost me 2 Euros (3 Dollars) to get to Ostia Antica and back.  On the other hand, everyone and his dog was coming home from the beach this afternoon and the trains were jammed.  Air-conditioning was in some cases non-existent, so it was hot, crowded and tiring.  By the way, my guess is that a plurality of people around here don't have cars.  They ride the trains and walk a good deal getting to and from their stops.  I think this is one reason why fewer of them are overweight compared to the U.S.  Another reason is the general absence of fast food.  There are a few McDonalds.  I've seen two Burger Kings.  But I don't see Italians going into them.  They might get a pizza for dinner and eat the whole thing, but the crust is cracker-thin and has much less cheese than a Papa Murphy's.  People are the same wherever you go, but they're different, too.

I thought a lot about my own congregation as I sat in St. Peter's this morning.  It's a long way from here to Parklane!  To be honest, I'd rather worship in Portland.  I hope you had a good Lord's day and that your summer is going well.  Tomorrow is our last day in Rome.  Tuesday we travel by train to Chambery, France to meet our niece, Rachel Penkoff, her husband, Brandon and their beautiful twin daughters.  

Before Leaving Florence

I have an hour before we check out of our hotel ("Pensione Pendini"), just enough time to jot down some observations about Florence.  It's an hour and a half northeast of Rome by train.  The land in between is mostly rural; there are sunflower fields, bright yellow against a backdrop of green hills and furiously blue Italian sky.  Maybe you've seen pictures of Florence.  Above and from a distance it is mostly red roofs with a large red dome predominating.  That dome is a Renaissance cathedral designed by an Italian architect in the 1500s.  What I was not prepared for was the church itself, which is gigantic and made entirely of green, pink and white marble.  It is marvelously exuberant and somehow reminds me of a birthday cake.  Whether it agrees with you depends on your notions of what a church should look like.  I have the impression that here in Italy, birthday cake will do just fine. 

Of course, Florence is not nearly so big as Rome.  And unlike big brother,wherein ancient ruins and Renaissance buildings are randomly thrown together, Florence shouts "Renaissance."  You find yourself thinking a lot about Michelangelo and da Vinci, both of whom lived here.  Indeed, we visited one of Florence's famous museums yesterday and actually saw Michelangelo's statue of David, naked with sling in hand.

But the town is not stuck in the past.  They make a lot of leather and silk goods here, which means that it is one of the fashion capitals of Europe.  If you like to shop, this is a great place to come.  Beautiful gowns, dresses, scarves and especially leather goods.  All of it is fairly expensive.  The one exception seems to be men's neckties.  You can buy them off corner carts for 8 to 10 Euros (12 to 15 dollars) which is cheap for a nice tie.

The weather has been quite hot.  It was 93 yesterday (compared to Rome, which was 84).  You get a bit sweaty walking around.  The nice part is that in the evening you can comfortably sit outdoors and indulge the Italian propensity for fine, leisurely dining.  We have been doing a lot of that, but we walk so much during the day that I don't think we're gaining any weight.  Who knows?  I haven't seen a scale since we left and I don't plan on seeking one out.

As in Rome, there are thousands of people on the streets, mostly tourists.  Not so many Americans as in Rome, but plenty of people from Europe, the UK, even Australia.  It's not hard to figure out why they come.  This place is about as picturesque as you can imagine.  Narrow streets, beautiful architecture, the Arno River flowing through the middle of town.  And yes, shopping wherever you go.  There's a famous bridge over the river that's lined from bank to bank with nothing but jewelry carts and stores (Florence is also the place to go for jewelry).  It's sort of a Renaissance Disneyland, in the same sense that Jerusalem is a spiritual theme park.  I wanted to remind myself about real life so I took a long walk yesterday, out of the core of the city, into the less exclusive areas.  It's not so picturesque, but it still looks like it'd be a fun place to live. 

Our train leaves for Rome at 6 p.m.  Tomorrow will be a big day for sightseeing.  Many of the main Rome attractions are closed on Monday, so we'll need to pound some serious pavement.  If we go to church, it will probably be Roman Catholic.  I haven't seen a Protestant building since we came.

A Day at the Vatican

As I think I mentioned, our apartment is pretty close to the Vatican--maybe 10 blocks away.  So on Wednesday we headed over, paid our entrance fee and started through.

One of our travel books says that the Vatican Museum, (which is the first part of the complex that you go through) has one of the 3 or 4 best collections in Europe.  I have nothing to compare it with, not having been at any other European museums, but believe me, it is ridiculously spectaclar, beggars the imagination and is beyond description.  One wanders through room after room, hall after hall, filled with astounding statues, paintings, frescoes, etc., many of which I have seen in books.  Two rooms especially drew my attention.  One was a long, rather narrow corridor filled with statutes.  Hundreds of them, maybe thousands.  Most were ancient, meaning 1500 years old or more.  There was a bust of the Roman Emperor Trajan that I had seen pictures of.  I wondered to myself what it was worth.  How many millions of dollars?  Then I looked up and down the corridor.  I figured there was enough monetary value there to pay off the national debt of several small countries.  Not a very "artsy" idea but it would be fun to do a modified version of "Antiques Road Show" and have experts tell you how much such-and-such a statue is worth.

The other room that caught my eye was basically a narrow hall, about a hundred-fifty yards long (a football field and a half!).  There were frescoes along the walls but what caught my attention was the ceiling.  It was curved, and its entire length consisted of small paintings, frescoes and statues, all contained inside small panels framed in gold.  The overall effect was indescribably stunning (you look down the hall and see a shimmering gold roof all the way to the end), and up close was equally impressive.  It may be the most beautiful human creation I have ever seen.

And yes, we did see the Sistine Chapel and Michelangelo's magnificent frescoes.  It's the climax of the museum and takes you into the actual "church" part of the Vatican.  The Sistine Chapel is the Pope's "personal" chapel and it's where the conclaves are held when a new pope is chosen.  Two aspects subtracted from my enjoyment of the chapel: they keep the room fairly dark (just the light coming through the clerestory windows), and there were probably a thousand people squeezed into the room.  Many were taking flash pictures although they were told repeatedly not to.  If we do the Vatican again, I will hire a guide to take us through at 8 a.m. or some off hour.  There were huge numbers of people everywhere we went.  It was also warm and humid.

Oh yes: there's also St. Peter's Basilica, "the largest church in the world."  It is truly massive.  It tries to be huge and soar at the same time; I'm not sure it succeeds.  But at least Connie and I found chairs in a side chapel where we could . . . take a nap.  While we walked around, we discussed whether the building is bigger than the U.S. Capitol building in Washington, D.C.  I said "no," Connie said "yes."  In retrospect, I think she is right. 

There is no way I can do justice to what I saw yesterday.  Indeed, there is nothing else like it on the earth, at least, not that I have seen.  Like many Christians, I wonder at the opulence of it all.  Is this what Jesus would want?  I read a piece by Pope John Paul II wherein he wondered about the same thing.  It seems to me that much of it should be sold off and invested in programs for evangelism and the development of poor countries.  But it was a visual feast such as I have never seen.

In about an hour, we leave on a train for Florence.  More art!  More paintings!  More statues!  More beautiful buildings!  And I haven't even told you about the stuff we saw on a walk we took night before last!

Four Airports and a Happy Ending

We left Jerusalem at 1 a.m. Sunday morning, arriving at Ben-Gurion Airport (between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv) at 2 a.m.  The airport had been distinctly unbusy the day we entered the country.  However, at 2 a.m. Sunday it was a beehive of activity.  The only reason I can think of is that every flight from Ben-Gurion is international; if you tried to fly from, say, Tel Aviv to Haifa it would take you two minutes.  It took us an hour-and-a-half to get through check-in and security.  Then it was onto the plane for the four hour flight to . . . Amersterdam!  There it was like Portland, cool and cloudy.  Then we changed planes and flew to . . . London!  Heathrow is huge.  It took us 15 minutes in a van to get from terminal 4 to terminal 5.  Then we got on our next flight and landed in . . . Rome, at last, at about 4:30 p.m.  Check my last entry for a partial explanation of this strange itinerary.  Anyway, we are in Rome now.

At the airport we got on a commuter train.  Good transportation but no air conditioning in our car.  A real cooker.  It took about half an hour to get from the airport to Termini (the big--and I mean big--train station in downtown Rome).  From there it was a 15-minute walk to our very nice hotel.  Later we walked up the street and ate at a sidewalk restaurant.  We sat next to a woman and her high-school age son.  They were from Manchester, England.  A pleasant time of food and conversation.  Then we went back to the hotel, and having pulled an all-nighter the night before, crashed into an oblivion of sleep.

Let me explain that a good deal of the entry will be about food.  That's because Italy (so I'm told and so I've experienced thus far) is gastronomically advanced.  You know how in your hotel or motel the complimentary breakfast is usually dry cereal, milk, doughnuts and coffee?  Well, this was slightly better than that.  There were scrambled and boiled eggs, cereal, croissants, beautiful hard rolls, three kinds of pastry (all hand-made in the hotel's own bakery), yogurt, orange and pineapple juice, fresh fruit and capucchino.  Among other things, I ate four pieces of pastry.  Thus fueled we spent the whole day sight-seeing and ate no lunch except for a gelato (an Italian ice cream-sherbet concoction that is wonderfully delicious and refreshing).

Of course, Rome is different from Jerusalem.  For one thing, it's a big city, whereas Jerusalem is small.  We spent most of the day at or around the old Roman Forum, which for centuries was the political and emotional center of the world.  The sheer number of ancient ruins is staggering, although nothing in the "ruins" category can compare to Israel.  But the Forum is also surrounded by many beautiful buildings from the mid-1800s, many painted or washed in warm colors (sienna, yellow, etc.).  It is simply a stunning visual atmosphere.  Besides that, it's jammed with people, cars, scooters and the sound of peeping horns.  You step off the sidewalk and you are fair game for any vehicle that might careen around the corner.  It was a good day of walking around.  We could tell that all the hiking we did in Israel had prepared us for this new challenge.

Later in the afternoon we took the subway (very clean and fast) over to a neighborhood not far from the Vatican.  It's mostly large apartment buildings, seven or so stories high.  We arranged with our friends, the Ledfords, to rent a spacious suite in this area for the next few days.  We're on the fourth story overlooking a busy street.  The neighborhood is not as picturesque as where we were earlier.  But it's Rome and there was a good restaurant for dinner and a beautiful bakery where we bought pastry aftterwards.

It's the kind of place you dream about visiting.  But we were reminded of the role Christians have played in its long history.  This afternoon we wandered past Mammertine Prison, where Peter and Paul were incarcerated.  The gospel advanced with great difficulty.  It's nice (and a great privilege!) to take such a wonderful trip.  But there is still work to do.  You may not believe it, but I'm looking forward to resuming ministry come September.  In the meantime, there is Rome tomorrow and Wednesday, then two days in Florence.  Then more of Rome!

Last Post From Jerusalem

Tonight we leave Jerusalem, bound for Rome.  But we had an enjoyable day beforehand.  This morning we walked from our hotel to a Baptist Church about a mile-and-a-half away (many churches here worship on Saturday, in deference to Jewish practice).  The service was mediocre but we heard a powerful message from a Rice University Chemistry Professor, a Jewish convert to Christianity who happened to be in town.  He hit it out of the park and of course when a preacher does that it means he "parks" it in your heart.  A great sermon, basic and convicting. 

We attended this church so we could meet Connie's niece, Vicki Brown, who worships there.  Vicki's serving as a nanny for missionaries who are in Israel studying Hebrew.  Ironically, she lives in Portland (63rd and Burnside) and we never see her.  So the three of us came to Jerusalem and had lunch together!  We enjoyed our afternoon, shared experiences and did a bit of shopping in the Old City. 

This evening we had dinner for the last time at our home away from home these past few weeks, the Gloria Hotel.  We also said goodbye to the many new friends we've made.  It was our great fortune to be with such a great group: 40-plus students, professors and hangers-on.  It really is true that love makes the world go 'round and we received a lot of it from these folks.

Jerusalem is a remarkably different kind of place.  In one sense it's like a spiritual Disneyland.  By that I mean that it's so visually stunning, and so overrun with tourists, that it almost seems artificial.  But then you remind yourself that it's the real deal.  The walls of the city really are 5-hundred years old.  The Church of the Holy Sepuchre really does date back to the 3rd century A.D.  The Pool of Siloam really is the one that Jesus visited.  King David really built a palace, half a mile from here.  And Abraham wandered through this very neck of the woods almost 4 thousand years ago.  There's no place else in the world where you can touch so much history.  Above all, it is the launching pad for the gospel of Jesus Christ, still the most important and transformative message every proclaimed to humankind.   

Now we look forward to the next leg in our journey.  It is a bit of a doozy.  We leave at 12:45 a.m. for the Tel Aviv airport, where we will finally experience Israel's rigorous customs procedures.  It's easy getting into the country but we're told it's hard getting out.  Our coordinator from Jerusalem University College says they give you a number from one to six.  A "one" means you're a corpse in your coffin, a "six" means you're Osama Bin Laden (who's also a corpse, come to think of it).  Most people get a "three" or a "four."

Assuming we get on the plane, we will fly first to Amsterdam, then to London, then--and only then--to Rome.  Don't ask me to explain why.  It has something to do with establishing London as our "hub" so that we get a lower fare (our trip back to Portland originates there).  At any rate, we're scheduled to arrive in bella Roma (beautiful Rome) at 4:15 p.m. Sunday.  That's nine hours ahead of Portland time which means 7:15 Sunday morning.  There we have a hotel reservation (thanks to Evelyn Schaefer for the recommendation!) and a day to get our bearings before meeting our friends Monty and Elaine Ledford on Monday, at a big apartment we've rented near Vatican City.

Visit to Samaria

Today was our last day "in the field" in Israel.  It turned out to be a good one.  That's because we got to go to a place where outsiders don't visit very often: Samaria, known these days as "The West Bank." 

A brief explanation of the political situation may be in order.  You probably know there is an ongoing disagreement between the Israelis and the Palestinians.  Specifically, this concerns a piece of territory known as The West Bank.  Think of it this way: the Jordan River divides Israel from Jordan.  But there's a good chunk of territory west of the Jordan that is claimed by the Palestinians.  That's where we went today.  We could tell that the area didn't see many tour buses.  People stared at us, waved at us, honked at us as we drove into the West Bank city of Nablus.  But we had good reason to be there.  Among other things, Nablus is the site of Jacob's well, where Jesus spoke to the woman in John 4.  The site (the well itself!) is preserved beneath a beautiful Greek Orthodox Church.  We went down into a low vault and there it was: a small well where you can still get a good drink of cold water.  A reminder of the continuing struggle between Muslims and Jews/Christians was found on a wall plaque.  It told of the priest at this particular church who in 1979 was axed to death, probably by Muslim extremists.  Ulp!

Also in Nablus, we visited the site of biblical Shechem (see the story of Dinah in, I think, Genesis 36).  The site is in a vacant lot behind the Nablus business district.  We walked out onto the tell and soon local residents were taking pictures of us and walking by to gawk at the American tourists.  It felt strange at first, but we quickly realized that people were curious and wanted to make contact.  One fellow in our group had his iPad with him; three young men walked up and asked "Is that an iPad 2?"  Later, when we walked back to our bus, I stopped and shook hands with four or five men sitting nearby.  One of them said to me, "Welcome!"  Part of the reason for his welcome, I'm sure, is that Nablus has a terrible unemployment problem and could really use the tourist revenue.  I don't know if it's mainly the Israeli government or the Palestininan authority that keeps things shut down, but it would help the economy if more people could come.  The West Bank has a number of very interesting archeological sites, and deserves to benefit the same as the rest of the country.  Israel herself would be significantly worse off without tourist income.   I heard someplace that there were 7 million foreign tourists who visited here last year--that's in a country with 5 million residents.  Most of the people you see walking around in Jerusalem are like Connie and me: tourists with a religious purpose.  We spend a lot of money.

Our last stop today was at biblical Shiloh.  Perhaps you remember it from my 1st Samuel series this year.  It's where the tabernacle stood, where young Samuel grew up.  It's out in the country, up on a hillside.  Today was cool and quite breezy, though the sun shone bright.  I stood looking at the place where the tabernacle might have stood and thought about all the things that have happened in Israel--the places and the stories and how they live in our imaginations.  It's great to see these places up close.  There's no substitute for climbing around on a tell, touching the old stone walls and feeling the dust beneath your feet.  To be honest, I can't say that the past three weeks have changed me spiritually.  But I can say they have confirmed my belief that the Bible stories are about real people living in real places where actual events really happened.  There's less mystery here than I expected, but more reality.

Connie takes her last exam tomorrow (she signed up to take our class for credit).  But in the morning we will take a taxi out to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Museum.  Doubtless it will be a sobering experience, but no visit to Jerusalem would be complete without a stop there. 

More Galilee

Yesterday and today was spent mostly in Galilee.  We walked down the hill where Jesus (supposedly) preached the Sermon on the Mount.  We also stopped in Chorazin ("Woe to you, Chorazin!  If the miracles done in your city had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago!"). 

Yesterday we also spent time in a restored Jewish village of the 4th to 6th century A.D.  The style of the buildings was similar to those in the 1st century.  One thing I found interesting was the building material. Everything in ancient Israel (at least, everything that has survived) was built of stone.  Near Jerusalem they used white limestone, but in Galilee they used good old basalt, just like we find in Oregon.  The area around Galilee has lots of volcanic stone, so this village was built out of the same rock you see in the wall behind the pulpit at Parklane Church.  The only difference is that it had been chiseled it into rectangular blocks.  We saw similar stonework in Capernaum.  There's a 4th century synagogue there that dates to the 4th century A.D.  It's made of white limestone.  But the foundation, which dates to the first century (in other words, the time of Jesus) is made of basalt.  Thus we can be pretty sure that Jesus worshiped in a synagogue that was made out of lava rock.

By the way, the same complex of Capernaum ruins contains what may be a room in Peter's house (mentioned in Mark 1, where Jesus healed his mother-in-law).  It may seem ridiculous that a specific synagogue and a specific house can be identified after two thousand years.  However, Capernaum was not that big and there are only so many places where things can be.

We are back in Jerusalem this evening.  The weather contrast between Galilee and Jerusalem is remarkable.  Jerusalem is cool and dry; Galilee was hot and humid.  It's only 80 miles from the one to the other, but you go from one world to the next.  Of course, if we were to go straight east out of Jerusalem, 15 miles down to Jericho, it would hot and dry--and probably 105 degrees.  This country is remarkably small (8 thousand squares miles compared to 97 thousand square miles for Oregon), but there is a great deal of contrast. 

However, if you're looking for consistency in the midst of contrast, all you have to do is look for the presence of the military.  There are soldiers in many of the places we go.  For example, the Jaffa Gate (a main entrance to the Old City of Jerusalem) is just down the street from our hotel.  There are always soldiers at that gate, and they carry guns, casually slung over their shoulders.  Up in Galilee, we were awakened one morning by the sound of Israeli jet fighters zooming by overhead--13 of them, we were told later.  Later that day we were up along the Israel-Syria border.  There, the soldiers were from the U.N.--peacekeepers I guess you'd call them.  They sat in white SUVs--Africans who happened to be playing Guns 'N Roses music on their sound system.  The continuing conflict between the Israelis and the Palestinians plays a huge role here.  I will try to blog about that another time.

We've been in Israel for 2 1/2 weeks now.   In just a few days we will leave for Rome and the next stage in our travels.  Israel has been great and there's still more to see, but we are starting to set our sights on newer horizons.

North to Galilee

Yesterday and today we've been at the Sea of Galilee.  It's quite an occasion for us.  The lake is big--12 miles long, 7 miles wide.  And a bit of a surprise.  For one thing, its elevation is so low (600 feet below sea level) that it's quite warm.  For another thing, it's humid!  Jerusalem is dry like central Oregon but even though the hills around Galilee are dry like central Oregon, humidity makes the area feels tropical.  The land around the lake is quite fertile, but they grow things like bananas and mangoes.  The flower are tropical, too: Connie has identified hibiscus and bird of paradise, flowers she used to see when she lived in the jungles of Peru.  It's a beautiful area.  We sat on the beach last night and watched the sun go down.  The water was warm and we could see the lights of the town of Tiberias on the other side of the lake. 

But of course what makes Galilee most noteworthy is that this is where Jesus carried out a good deal of his ministry.  We are at a resort/kibbutz called Ein Gev, on the east side of the lake.  This is approximately where I figure Jesus went ashore when he healed the Gadarene demoniac and the demons went into a herd of pigs and rushed off a cliff and fell into the lake (see Mark 5).  We have yet to visit Capernaum (it's on the other side) but we plan to go there tomorrow.

Yesterday we spent time at Nazareth, where Christ spent his boyhood.  It has grown into a rather large city, but we had a good visit nonetheless.  We stood on the cliff where in Luke 4, people attempted to throw Jesus to his death following his controversial sermon in the synagogue.  Believe me, if they had succeeded, he would have had a long fall!  Nazareth is located in the highlands overlooking a fertile valley and that cliff plunges straight down for hundreds of feet.

We spent a good part of today in the region north of the Sea of Galilee, exploring the headwaters of the Jordan River.  The Jordan is a small, meandering stream for much of its length, but near its source, it is vigorous, beautful and has a waterfall that would do the Columbia Gorge proud.  We saw Caesarea Philippi, where Peter made his confession that Jesus is the Messiah (see Matthew 16).  Some of the stuff I picked up there will probably show up in a sermon come September.

By now, we are getting to know our classmates pretty well.  Good relationships have been formed, especially with people from Columbia International University in South Carolina.  I never knew about the school, but based on the people I've met, it must be a first-class place.

There are times when I try to evaluate "what's the most impressive thing I've seen."  But to tell you the truth, it's like I've been drinking for two weeks from a spigot flowing full blast.  Everything is impressive!  One thing I really enjoyed seeing today was the ruins of an old city called Dan, which is north of Galilee.  The gate of city, which has been excavated, and which we saw and photographed, was there in 19th century B.C.  Our professor informed us that it's very likely that Abraham walked through that very gate on his way south from Haran into Canaan.  That's pretty special!

Aside from having too much to absorb, we are happy and healthy, and having a very good time.  Today we hiked over 5 miles.  The food is good.  Our hotel rooms are basic but comfortable.  The air conditioning works.  And yes, out my window I can see the lights of Tiberias as the day fades toward darkness.

The Garden Tomb

No one knows for sure where the crucifixion and the resurrection took place.  There are two competing candidates: the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which is inside the old city but was outside at the time of Christ; and Gordon's Tomb, which is outside the old city, near the Damascus Gate.  Most people think the Church of the Holy Sepulchre has the better claim.  However, Gordon's Tomb is the lovelier spot, with gardens and benches and flowing water and lots of trees.

But I'm not all that interested in which site is genuine.  What makes Gordon't Tomb unique is that it provides worship space for lots of groups.  There must be at least 10 alcoves where people can gather, and the variety of Christians one sees is truly staggering.  In the 45 minutes that we spent there, we met people from Indonesia, the U.S., Holland, Argentina, Russia and Israel.  Most were part of church groups that had come to worship.  A babble of voices, lots of singing, communion being served, strangers hugging each other--a fantastic witness to the continuing vitality of the Christian church.

Even though the site is beautiful, there are jarring realities.  Gordon's Calvary has a rock wall with cave openings that resemble a skull (Golgotha means "place of the skull"), but it opens out onto a space that is now a parking lot for buses.  Thus the past mingles with the present.  In fact, Connie and I have wondered if living here, on top of so much history, might grow tiresome.  The old days feel like they drag on you, holding you back instead of moving you forward.  I can't say that I've ever felt that in Portland.

Back From the Dead (Sea)

Well, as I suspected, there was no internet access in the Judean Desert.  We stayed in the city of Arad, in the Negev, in the south of the country.  There is much to say about our three-day trip.  So much in fact that I will limit myself to Thursday, which was spent at or around the Dead Sea.

At Arad we stayed at a youth hostel, the Blau-Weiss House (German for Blue-White House).  Before World War II, there was a movement among Jewish youth in Germany to go back to Palestine and explore the land.  The hostels were built to serve that cause.  Of course the tragedy is that many of those young people were killed by Hitler.  Apparently we will stay at another hostel of the same variety when we go north to Galilee starting this Sunday.

Let me say to begin with that Arad and the surrounding area are desert.  By desert I mean no discernible vegetation.  However, the rule of thumb here seems to be that if there's any vegetation at all, they farm; if there's not, they tend sheep.  Somehow the sheep find something to feed on.  One sees lots of little boys out on the hills tending their flocks.  Picture an absolutely barren hillside and a boy wearing a baseball cap in the hot sun: not the funnest job I can think of.  The other animal one sees in these environs is camels.  They are all over the place, pretty much go where they please and occasionally stop your car or bus just like the bears used to in Yellowstone.

Anyway, about Thursday: the bus left the hostel at 7 a.m.  Our first stop was a place called Masada.  Imagine the deck of huge ocean liner.  Imagine it's a mile long and a quarter mile wide.  Then put that deck on top of a thousand-foot high chunk of limestone, with sheer cliffs, overlooking the Dead Sea.  That's Masada, which is Hebrew for "fortress," or "stronghold."  This location may be linked to David, who in First Samuel 22:4 went to "the stronghold" after leaving his family with the King of Moab.

Masada is best-known as the place where a group of Jewish freedom fighters were besieged by the Roman army following the 70 A.D. rebellion that led to the destruction of the Jewish temple in Jerusalem.  The top of the fortress was a palace/storehouse designed by King Herod (the one who met the Wise Men).  It has incredible cisterns (water) and storehouses (food).  The freedom fighters held out for a year while the Romans built a siege ramp from the bottom of the nearly vertical hillside to the top.  The ramp, which still exists, is basically a pile of dirt high enough to reach the top.  No wonder it took a year to build! 

So we hiked up the side of the siege ramp and eventually reached the top.  King Herod, who was the greatest builder in Israel's history (the temple was his chief, but by no means only, accomplishment), had put there a palace, a synagogue, basically a whole city on the top of this great hunk of rock out in the middle of nowhere.

But as I said, the Romans eventually built their siege ramp all the way to the top.  And the freedom fighters faced a choice: be defeated and watch as their family members were raped and killed. That, or commit mass suicide.  They chose the latter.  The men killed their familes.  Then they drew lots to see who would kill whom.  When they were down to ten fighters, they drew straws and the man with the short straw killed the other nine, then himself.  Over 900 people died this way.  A woman and her children crawled into a secret place and survived the ordeal, which is recorded by the Jewish historian, Josephus, in his book The Antiquities of the Jews. 

So we explored the top of Masada for a couple hours, then hiked down the other side.  A thousand feet up, a thousand feet down.  Up was in the shade; down was in the sun.  It was pretty hot.  Then on to our sweet relief for the day, at En-Gedi.  See First Samuel 24 and 27, which indicate that the region of En-Gedi was a hiding spot for David and his men when they were on the run from King Saul.  There is a wadi--stream bed--at En-Gedi that blessedly has water running through it almost all the time.  It runs down the steep cliffs and there are actually pools and waterfalls up as you climb up.  Just a beautiful spot.  I jumped in the water and sat with my head under a waterfall until I felt a concussion coming on, then clambered up to the next pool and swam for 20-minutes or so.  All of our group (forty or so people, mostly college kids) jumped in.  The water was perfect!  We had lunch at En-Gedi (It's the same thing every day, more or less: pita bread with egg salad or tuna for filling; carrots, fruit, pastry for dessert, all washed down by as much water as we can drink.  I go through 4 bottles a day and still feel dehydrated).

Then we went to the Dead Sea.   Its surface is 1900 feet below sea level--the lowest place on earth.  The water has no outlet, so like the Great Salt Lake it is incredibly salty.  I refused to get in (the water feels oily and the only interesting thing about the experience is that it's impossible to sink), but Connie was game.  I suppose it was an okay experience given that the thermometer at the lifeguard station read 41 degrees Celsius (that's 106 degrees Fahrenheit).  But honestly, I don't think I missed a thing. 

By now the heat was taking a toll on us (we hiked about 5 miles that day, mostly under a blistering sun), but the nature of this program doesn't allow for much attention to nature's obstacles.  We were off for our last stop, at an archeological site called Qumran.  A Jewish sect lived at Qumran in the days of Jesus.  It was scattered by the Romans in the years following the destruction of the temple.  But before they dispersed, the community hid its religious scrolls in a cave, inside clay jars.  Then, in 1947, a Bedouin boy threw a rock in a cave and heard a jar break.  He investigated.  Eventually archeologists learned he had made one of the most important discoveries of the century.  Among other things, the scrolls include parts of every book of the Old Testament.  These have given scholars access to the Old Testament as Jesus read it--which turns out to be very similar to manuscripts from a thousand years later.  It's quite a place, but it was hotter than the 4th of July out in the sun where we sat listening to our (very gifted) professor expound on Qumran's significance.  It was with considerable relief that we boarded our bus and headed back to Jerusalem--20 miles away but with a 5,000 feet increase in elevation.  We went from 106 F. at Qumran to 85 F. at Jerusalem--arriving at 6 p.m. following an 11-hour day. 

Today is a day off.  Tomorrow we begin preparations for our journey to Galilee.  We leave for that part of the country on Sunday and we'll stay 'til next Thursday.  It's "Jesus Country" (Nazareth, the Sea of Galilee, Capernaum, etc.) so Connie and I are excited to go.  In the meantime, we're glad to have time off, although we spent the morning exploring the Old City.  We have been fortunate to make friendships with several people from Columbia International University in South Carolina and thay are good company as we climb steps, stop in churches and explore shops. 

You won't believe this, but there's one shop in the Old City that sells Oregon Duck t-shirts in Hebrew!  Donald Duck sticking his head through the "O," and then "Oregon Ducks" in Hebrew script.  I think I will buy one and be the envy of my friends.

Despite the rigors of our trip (the college kids are worn out every night and so are we), we continue to enjoy good health.  We thank God for that.  Something as simple as a sprained ankle could put a real crimp in our style.

Seeing Things On Our Own

We had a free morning today.  So for the first time, we set out to explore the Old City on our own.  It's not as big as you might expect.  We walked from our hotel near the Jaffa Gate (on the west wall) to the Wailing Wall (located near the eastern wall) in about 20 minutes.  I'm pretty sure you could walk around the perimeter of the Old City wall (which contained the entirety of Jersualem until 1800 or so) in about an hour-and-a-half.  But there were 30-50 thousand people living there in Jesus' day and probably more now.  So it's small but crowded. 

The Wailing Wall (a foundation wall of the temple that Herod built during in the 1st century) is the spiritual heart of Judaism.  Hundreds of people were on the large plaza.  Some were close to the wall, praying.  Others were milling around.  There were many Bar Mitzvahs taking place.  A Bar Mitzvah is something like confirmation in certain Christian churches.  At age 13, boys read Torah in Hebrew, as part of a ceremony that basically declares them to be spiritual adults.  All of the Bar Mitzvahs took place near the fence that divides the women's and men's sections of the plaza.  The men administered the ceremony; the women made celebratory noises that sounded very Middle Eastern and threw candy.  Then the boys would be hoisted on the shoulders of their friends.  Dancing and singing would ensue.  It was a lively, chaotic scene, one that I found exhilirating.  I put on a yarmulke before entering the plaza (one of those little round caps you see Jews wearing sometimes) and stood around and watched for awhile.

Afterwards we strolled through the city's Jewish quarter (the other three quarters are: the Muslim, the Armenian and the Christian).  This part of town was mostly destroyed during Israel's 1948 war for independence, so there are many newer buildings.  It feels more like America than the rest of the city.  There are more grass and trees; a very pleasant place.

This afternoon we were back at Jerusalem University College, starting the next leg of our studies.  Tomorrow we leave for a three-day trip that will take us to the Mediterranean, the Negev Desert and the Dead Sea.  I am told that internet connections may not be available, so if you don't hear from us until later in the week, don't worry!

P.S.  Thanks for your prayers about my foot.  It still hurts but it limbers up quite nicely when I walk and I'm not anticipating any problems.  God is good!

Sunday in the Holy City

We were gassed after yesterday's unrelenting schedule.  Connie went to bed at 9:30, I passed out at 10.  We got up this morning and went to an Anglican Church very close by in the Old City.  Most of the 100 or so people in attendance were travelers like us.  Nice service--two hours long.  We spent the afternoon doing laundry over at the college and napping in our hotel room.  It wasn't so different from our usual Sundays, except that I didn't lead services. 

Tomorrow we have no activities until late afternoon so we hope to explore the Old City on our own.  But Connie is thinking of taking the course for credit (we signed up to audit), which would mean she has to take an exam tomorrow.  I told her she should go for it because the 4 semester hours of credit would be helpful in maintaining her teacher's accreditation.  So she's at a study session this evening at the college while I read and blog.

One item for prayer: my right foot is giving me some trouble.  I can walk on it and it loosens up after awhile, but there's a place on the inside of the ankle that's slightly swollen and it's pretty painful.  Our program requires lots of walking and I would like for the pain to go away.  I have no idea what caused this.

Outside my hotel the Muslim Imams are calling people to prayer.  There's a church up the street that rang its bells about an hour ago.  There isn't another city like this anywhere in the world. 

On the Road in God's Country

We spent the day outside of Jerusalem, seeing an incredible range of country. One of my kids sent an email suggesting that I indicate that we're having fun, instead of sharing so much information. So: YES WE ARE HAVING FUN!!! But we're working pretty hard, too.

We got on our tour bus at 7 a.m. After driving about 12 miles to the east we got off. But that doesn't mean anything unless I explain a bit of geography to you.

Israel can be divided into three narrow strips running north and south. On the west is the coastal plain, a relatively flat, fertile area where many crops are grown. The Mediterranean Sea marks the western terminus of that region. Moving east, the next region is the Hill Country. The hills are pretty high. You go from sea level at Tel Aviv to 2,900 feet at Jerusalem in the space of about 20 miles. The third strip is the low-lying valley east of the hills. This is where the Sea of Galilee, the Jordan River and the Dead Sea are located. This region marks the lowest place on earth. The Dead Sea is 1900 feet below sea level. Jericho, which is near the Dead Sea, is 1000 feet below sea level.

So what I'm saying is that by driving 12 miles east of Jerusalem, we were dropping about 3000 feet in elevation--and moving to a completely different climate. Jerusalem is at the top of the hills and, like Mount Hood, receives quite a bit of rain--about 24 inches a year, mostly during the winter. But the low-lying valley to the east is like Oregon east of the Cascades. As soon as you go over to the other side of the mountain, the amount of rainfall decreases. The desert east of Jerusalem gets about 5 inches a year. So when we got out of the bus, we were in country where there was basically no vegetation except for a few thistles. From there we hiked the last 2 1/2 miles to Jericho. It was hot, barren, and starkly beautiful. Along the way we passed a monastery that has been on the same site since the 300s. One of the weird things about this country is that you can be driving or walking in country that looks completely ordinary, then see something that's 2 or 3 or even 4 thousand years old. It's hard for an American to get used to.

So we spent the morning and the lunch hour near Jericho and hiked around the "tell" (ruin) of the old city. After that, we drove up to the hill country and surveyed land once owned by the Israelite tribe of Benjamin. We got an excellent view of some of the towns featured in the Samuel sermons I preached last fall and winter: Gibeah, Gibeon, Ramah, etc.

Finally, late in the afternoon,, we drove out to the coastal plain. There we visited another "tell," this one at Gezer, a site which is briefly mentioned in First Kings and the book of Joshua. Again, there are strange juxtapositions. You drive by a nice housing area that looks like it belongs in San Diego, turn a corner and there's this 3000 year-old tell.

Today we hiked a total of 5 miles in the hot sun, listened to lectures in the hot sun and rode around in an air-conditioned bus. We were dropped off at our hotel at 6 p.m., rounding off an eleven hour day. That's been our typical schedule since we got here. What's also typical is that we are tired. We'd like to go out and see the Old City of Jerusalem (literally at our doorstep) but it's 9 p.m. and we're ready to call it a day. We are grateful that tomorrow is Sunday,and that we have a whole day off. Our plan is to attend an Anglican Church that is about 5 minutes from our hotel.

Through Hezekiah's Tunnel

We spent much of this beautiful day (breezy, 82 F.) in the oldest part of Jerusalem, the so-called "City of David." It's south of the rest of the Old City, down in a low valley. David lived there throughout his reign. Of course, old Jerusalem can never be separated from current realities. The City of David is right across the street from the jammed, cliffside Palestinian village of Silwan, a flash point in the ongoing Israeli-Palestinian dispute. Our teacher told a story of a recent Jerusalem University College student who, on his first day of class, decided to go running through Silwan's twisty streets. But people started throwing rocks at him as he ran by. The rocks got bigger. He soon figured out that he had better get out of there if he didn't want to be--literally--stoned.

The outstanding archeological feature in this part of town is a water supply tunnel built by King Hezekiah in the 8th century B.C. It's an engineering marvel and no one is quite sure how they pulled it off. The problem was simple: the city's water supply was vulnerable to attack and needed to be protected. A two-stage solution was arrived at. Stage one: build a small fort extending from the city wall, surrounding the spring. Stage two: redirect the water flow by carving an underground tunnel out of bedrock so water could be collected inside the city.

The tunnel, a twisty, turny, narrow-walled affair, still exists today and we waded through it late this morning. It takes about 20 minutes to go from one end to the other. The fast-flowing water is chilly and deep enough in one place to cover the bottom of your shorts. You take a flash light and follow the person behind you. There are places where you have to duck because the tunnel, in addition to being just 2 1/2 feet wide, is only about 5 feet high in many places. Great fun and you think to yourself, "How did they carve this with nothing more than chisels and candles? And how much work was it to haul out all the debris, probably in a sack on your back?" It eventually leads to the Pool of Siloam, where Jesus healed a blind man (you can read about it in John 9).

Just a word about the other people in our class: there are about 40 of us, mostly from the U.S. Two Christian colleges--Simpson College in Redding, CA and Columbia International University in South Carolina--brought good-sized groups. There are also parents with college-aged kids and several college faculty. I must confess that we are among the oldest people in attendance, but it's not a detriment at all. We keep up fine and everyone has a good time.

Tomorrow promises to be interesting. It's our first foray outside of Jerusalem into the surrounding countryside. Unlike the first few days when we literally walked for hours through the Old City, tomorrow we'll be on a tour bus.