(A quick work of explanation for the blog. I couldn't update the blog at our last hotel spot, so I had to save the posts and put them up all at once.)
We are not yet fully home, but we landed in Philadelphia last evening. Slept the night at my sister’s house and we are preparing to go to church with them this morning. Afterward, we’ll drive to Clearfield where I will drop of my mom and then catch up with my family at a nearby cabin for two nights away before returning to work on Tuesday morning. I am eager to see my family and looking forward to being with my church family again for the Easter week. Mom did a great job on the trip. She was determined to see it all and she did just that. At times she needed a little boost, but she made it to the end of the road. I really admire her courage to go and her perseverance. It was not an easy trip, but it was a wonderful one. It was an incredible privilege to see Israel -to view the ancient ruins of Biblical cities and to immerse ourselves in the modern country that is making fertile lands out of the desert. We caught a glimpse of the conflict that mires the region and have renewed concern for complexity of the issues there. We are led to pray for the ministry of the Prince of Peace. May his gracious rule bring true “Shalom” to this troubled land. Our tour concluded with visits to both the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and the Garden Tomb. Visitors to Jerusalem know that they represent two very different options for locating Golgotha and the tomb of Christ. Of course, neither site can be confirmed. The first cathedral was built by Constantine in the 4th century, apparently on the location of a former chapel which commemorated the supposed location of the crucifixion of Christ. It was destroyed and rebuilt many times over the years, but is still a magnificent structure. Archaeologists have shown that there are tombs in the area which date to the first century, but beyond that nothing is certain. It is difficult to locate anything in a city that has been destroyed and rebuilt so many times.
By contrast, the Garden Tomb is a more recent discovery. British archaeologists in the 19th century noticed a rock structure that looked suspiciously like a skull. Since the Gospel accounts speak of the location of the crucifixion as the “place of the skull” (Golgotha) it was an intriguing find. The proximity to the road and the city gate fits the Biblical description and nearby excavation revealed an ancient vineyard. Further excavation uncovered an tomb that was cut into the rock and closed by a rolling stone. Unfortunately, the tomb has been determined to be from earlier than the first century. It is too old to be the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea. To their credit, the guides at the Garden Tomb don’t over-sell their case. Our tour was led by an Arab Christian from the nearby Palestinian village of Bethlehem. He not only shared information about the location and about first century practice, but he read to us from the Scripture. “The important thing,” he said, “is not where the tomb was, exactly. The important thing is what it means. The tomb means that God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that whosoever should believe in him would not perish but have eternal life.” I think that the words of Scripture spoken by the mouth of our Arab brother meant more to me than anything I saw at that location. In a similar way, my thoughts on the tomb of Jesus were shaped by an offhand comment from our tour guide. Our guide for the week was a Messianic Jew that grew up in the Soviet Union before immigrating to Israel. He clearly loved Israel and was fiercely proud of his people. But he had come to know Messiah Jesus while in Russia and brought his faith with him to the Holy Land. His encyclopedic knowledge was paired with wit and love for the Lord. Sometimes his off-hand comments were more memorable than anything else. At one point he tried to describe what we would see when we entered the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. He was animated by the details, but he knew that this historic location touched on the heart of the Christian faith. I will end with his words. “Inside the large dome of the church is a small dome. It is like Russians dolls – one inside the other. The people wait in a long line for hours to enter the smaller chapel. And inside the chapel what they think is the tomb. And the people wait for hours to go in and when they do, they look around and see that Jesus is not there.” And in a moment, his voice rose as he progressed from the technical description to proclaim his faith. “Jesus is not in the tomb… He is Risen!” That alone was worth a trip to Israel. My former post was about diversity among Christians, but that is only part of the story. Jerusalem is a 5,000 year old city and it contains layer upon layer of religious expression. Today it is still a very important religious city for the worlds three largest monotheistic religions. Jews, Christians and Muslims consider it to be a place of great importance. The Old City of Jerusalem is divided into sections of Jews, Muslims and Christians - all of whom trace their lineage back for hundreds of years in the city. Currently, the city is under Jewish control, but that has only been the case since the 6 Days War in 1967. In the tentative balance of Middle Easter politics, the local people navigate the delicate relationships which characterize their daily life.
At the Western Wall, the Muslim call to prayer, the Christian church bells and the groaning prayers of the Jewish people rise together into the air of this contested city. First a quick review. On Wednesday we saw Masada and En Gedi as we made our way to Jerusalem. Upon entry we went to the City of David and sloshed through Hezekiah’s Tunnel. Yesterday we started at the Western Wall, viewed the excavations under the city, then crossed the border into Palestinian controlled Bethlehem. We returned to see the traditional locations of Caiaphas’s house and the upper room. Today we did a walking tour of Jerusalem, starting with the Mount of Olives, into Jerusalem and the pool of Bethsaida and then along several stops of the historic Via Dolorosa, all the way to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. We then concluded with a tour of the Garden Tomb and walked back to the hotel. A couple of stories from this time demonstrates the tense nature of inter-religious balance. On Thursday we closed our day today with a visit to an old site that commemorates the last supper. It is highly doubtful that this marks the actual location of the last supper, but the building has been venerated for that purpose since at least the time of the crusaders and maybe before. Almost unbelievably, it is located on top of what the Jewish people recognize as the tomb of King David. The small building which contains the purported sarcophagus of David is filled with praying rabbis and is considered to be the second holiest Jewish site in the city. During the time of Turkish rule, the hostilities surrounding the use of this location created enough tension that the local Muslim ruler attempted to solve the problem by turning the building into a Mosque. That was not a great plan. After the city returned to Jewish control in 1967, you can imagine the problems that ensued. One location is considered a significantly important holy site by three religions. As we entered, our tour guide warned us: "The rules are very strict here. You cannot pray out loud, you cannot sing. You must be careful. We do not want to start a fight." On Friday I was struck by a vivid picture of these converging and conflicting religious streams. The Via Dolorosa is the supposed route that Jesus took as he endured suffering and rejection on the way to the cross. Some of the sites reflect Biblical stories and some are extra-biblical. Given that the city was so often destroyed and rebuilt, it is hard to know with any certainty where particular things were located. It is also interesting that the route progresses through the Muslim quarter of the city. The street vendors and narrow corridors make the route feel both foreign and ancient. We ate lunch on a corner where the Via Dolorosa turned onto a larger thoroughfare. The corner had one of many outposts of soldiers with the Israeli Defense Force. Military service is mandatory for all citizens (male and female) and many of the soldiers are in the late teens and early twenties. The larger street (by Old City Jerusalem standards) in front of our café was a major passageway for Muslim worshippers to access the Mosque on the Temple Mount. At the beginning of our lunch the call to prayer echoed through the streets as Muslims streamed down to the mosque. Throughout the meal, Christian pilgrims continued to pour down the Via Dolorosa. Eastern European women with their heads covered in scarves, and priests in long flowing black robes trekked in the ancient pathway of Jesus. During the meal, several young Palestinian men were pulled from the street, questioned and searched. A reminder of the continued police presence in this conflicted land. At the end of the meal, the flow of Muslim worshippers reversed course and moved backward, away from the Mosque. Now the two streams were moving in opposition. In front of our tables, the throngs of Christian pilgrims jostled with Muslim worshippers, under the watchful eye of the Israeli police. Distinct clothing marked the contrast in these great monotheistic religions. M-16’s and police baracades were a reminder of the ongoing hostilities. It was a picture of the conflict and the struggle to coexist in this ancient land. One of the most surprising aspects of this trip is the incredible diversity of life here in Jerusalem. That is happening on so many levels.
First, there is an remarkable diversity of Christian pilgrims in the city. Tour buses full of African Christians and Europeans from the former soviet block countries jockey for position in the park lots of the ancient churches. Tonight, as I write in the lobby of our hotel I watched a group of Italian priests receive an introduction to the hotel. After their departure the room fills with Korean women in the 50's and 60's. This morning I was asked to give a short devotional during our bus ride and I read from Isaiah 2:2-3. City Reformed people will know that we did a 6 week blog series based around those verses last year. Today I saw the most vivid depiction of God's people as we toured the Holy sites of the city. It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the LORD shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be lifted up above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, and many peoples shall come, and say: "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths." (Isa. 2:2-3) Today I saw people from every continent flowing to the mountain of the house of the Lord. Literally. But diversity among Christians is only part of the story. Jerusalem is a 5000 year old city and it contains layer upon layer of religious expression. It is a very important religious city for the worlds three largest monotheistic religions. Jews, Christians and Muslims consider it to be a place of great importance. And that is not an easy arrangement. The Old City of Jerusalem is divided into sections of Jews, Muslims and Christians - all of whom trace their lineage back for hundreds of years in the city. Currently, the city is under Jewish control, but that has only been the case since the 6 days war in 1967. In the tentative balance of Middle Easter politics, the local people navigate the delicate relationships which characterize their daily life. At the Western Wall, the Muslim call to prayer, the Christian church bells and the groaning prayers of the Jewish people rise together into the air above this contested city. One particular story demonstrates the tense nature of this balance. We closed our day today with a visit to an old site that commemorates the last supper. It is highly doubtful that this marks the actual site of the last supper, but the building has been venerated for that purpose since at least the time of the crusaders and maybe before. Almost unbelievably, it is located on top of what the Jewish people recognize as the tomb of King David. The small building which contains the purported sarcophagus of David is filled with praying rabbis and is considered to be the second holiest Jewish site in the city. During the time of Turkish rule, the hostilities surrounding the use of this location created enough tension that the local Muslim ruler attempted to solve the problem by turning the building into a Mosque. That only made it worse. After the city returned to Jewish control in 1967, you can imagine the challenge of balancing these three different expectations. This one location is considered a significantly important holy site by three religions - with a long history of conflict. As we entered our tour guide warned us: "The rules are very strict here. You cannot pray out loud, you cannot sing. You must be careful. We do not want to start a fight." This sign was on the wall: Today we visited the most important place for modern Jewish people. The Western Wall, known as the “Wailing Wall” is an exposed portion of the ancient temple mount from the time of Christ. When the temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD the walls around the base of the temple mount were all that remained. The Western Wall is particular important because it is close to where the Holy of Holies would have been inside the temple.
Until 1967, when Jerusalem was controlled by Muslims, the Jewish people had very little access to visit any of their holy sites. This fairly small section of the original temple mount was open to Jewish people one day each year. It seems to symbolize both their access to God and their vulnerable national identity. But because they believe that the temple was meant to be a “house of prayer for all people”, the Western Wall is open to be of all religious faiths. As moved closer to the wall, we became more than tourists – we became participants. Like other holy sites, appropriate dress was required. For the Catholic sites that means that men take off their hats. At the Jewish sites men have to cover their heads. Free yarmulkes are available for all who wish to approach in prayer. It took a moment to figure out how to make it sit properly on my head. It was early in the morning, so it seems that the crowd was smaller. I threaded my way through the rabbis praying with their disciples and approached the ancient stones. This is all that remains from the temple. Huge stones that are worn by sun and rain and countless people. As I placed my hands, then my forehead on the wall, I felt that the rock was cool to the touch. The wall was enormous. Hebrew prayers filled the air. A general murmur rose above the crowd. I felt small. And somewhat insecure. Had I covered my head properly? Was it ok for me to come close to the wall? I suppose that some of the insecurity rose from the experience of being on the “turf” of another religion. But I think some of it was bigger than that. The purpose of the temple is to show God’s holiness. His “otherness”. His bigness. And our consequent smallness. Modern western culture does not emphasize this aspect of the divine. Our secular culture seeks to eliminate God altogether, or at least minimize his presence. Even Christianity in the west tends to focus on making God accessible. But this is not the God of the Bible. The New Testament is rooted firmly in the old. We are told that we can approach God’s throne in prayer with confidence – not because God is small, inconsequential and cuddly. But we are invited to approach God’s throne in prayer with confidence because we have been cleansed by the sacrifice of Christ. Our confidence does not lie in God’s smallness, or in our own preparations. But our confidence lies in the mediation of Christ. I don’t want to diminish our confidence in prayer in even the smallest degree. But I do hope to retain this fresh reminder of God’s grandeur. I think of the words of the book of Hebrews: Therefore, let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire. (Heb. 12:28-29) We started the day in the Dead Sea - which was 1411 meters below sea level and ended the day in Jerusalem - which is 2470 feet above seal level. That is an elevation change of almost 4000 feet. Needless to say we spent the day going "up." Along the way we stopped at fantastic sites in Masada and En Gedi. Both have historic significant and are truly marvelous natural landmarks.
Much of this route ran parallel to the ancient pathway between Jericho and Jerusalem. Pilgrims from Galilee would have bypassed the most direct route to Jerusalem in order to avoid their long term enemies - the Samaritans. Most people associate the term "Samaritan" with a story that Jesus told in which the Samaritan did something unexpectedly "good." But if we are not familiar with the historic context we can easily miss the main assumption of the story. That is - no one expected a Samaritan to be "good", especially to a Jewish person. This historic enemies had a long history of mistreating each other. The ancient road from Jericho to Jerusalem runs along a valley known as a "wadi." Water would be available in this valley more frequently and would provided necessary nourishment for both the travelers and their pack animals. We pulled of the main highway to catch a glimpse of the landscape. At the ruins of an old monastery we bartered with Bedouin merchants for trinkets and fruit. This nomadic people still live in the desert and like to trace their lineage all the way back to the patriarchs. Seeing the remoteness of this passageway emphasizes why it made sense for the traveler in Jesus' story to get attacked on the road between Jericho and Jerusalem. It also gives a vivid picture of why the many psalms that were written about the approach to Jerusalem are called the "Psalms of Ascent." This final leg of the pilgrimage to Jerusalem was literally one long "ascent." One of them was particularly relevant for travelers in a dangerous country: I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. (Psalm 121, a psalm of ascent) This route is also the path that Jesus and his disciples took during his fateful trip to Jerusalem. It was in Jericho that Jesus met a "wee little man" called Zacheus and brought salvation to the house of this rich outcast. From there, Luke tells us simple that Jesus continued his journey: And when he had said these things, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. (Lk. 19:28) It was there that his earthly ministry would take a deadly turn and Jesus would complete his greatest work. It is a reminder that danger is not limited to the road to Jerusalem. For Jesus the greatest danger awaited him after his arrival to this fortified city. We will see more of that the next two days. I woke up at 5:30 without an alarm clock, jogged and hiked to the top of a nearby mountain peak and finished with a refreshing swim in the sea of Galilee. Now, there are several parts of that sentence that are highly abnormal. But that is the nature of such an unusual trip in an extraordinary place. Today we headed South from Galilee, visited Nazareth, the ruins of a 1st century Roman city, Qumran (the location of the Dead Sea Scrolls), and concluded with a swim (bob) in the Dead Sea. In the morning we visited Nazareth, the hometown of Jesus. This was one of the highlights of the trip for me as we toured a recreated 1st century village staffed mostly by a group of local Arab Christians. It is like "Old Bedford Village" for the Ancient Near East. They had recreated aspects of village life from the 1st century on a plot of land in modern day Nazareth. The location is about a 5 minute walk from where it is believed Jesus lived. I enjoyed watching the recreations of ancient work and living spaces. Here are some pictures: (top left) Shepherd in front of a sheep pen.
(top middle) Builder (carpenter) working with wood. (top right) Weaver spinning wool into yarn. (bottom left) Inside a recreated synagogue. (bottom middle) Wheel for crushing olives, followed by a three state process of presses. (bottom right) Inside a recreated home. Where yesterday was marked by the sharp reality of being in Israel and visiting known sites, today was full of uncertainty. The views were beautiful, but a common theme for the day was… “maybe.” We started the day with a short hike to the overlook of Mt. Arbel. (left) The view was stunning. We gazed downward at the town of Migdal (1st century home of Mary Magdalene) and the Sea of Galilee. It is a spectacular spot and invites speculation about whether this could have been one of the lonely places that Jesus withdrew to for his regular prayer retreats. The answer is… “maybe.”
Next, we visited the church of the Beatitudes. The Catholic tradition holds that this is the spot where Jesus preached his famous sermon from Matthew 5-7, called the sermon on the Mount. Like most itinerant preachers Jesus probably preached a similar message in many places. (That is the easiest explanation for the differences between the gospel accounts in Matthew and Luke.) But is this the location that Matthew refers to in his Gospel? There are no historic markers to link this spot to the text, but it is a very nice location and it is certainly representative of the types of places that Jesus preached in regularly during his 3 year ministry in this immediate vicinity. So, again we have a solid "maybe" about this being the exact location. We had the same experience in the afternoon as we visited a church that commemorates the reinstatement of Peter in John 21. Neither John or Matthew seemed interested in giving those particular stories exact locations, so I don’t think it is profitable to press that too far. "Maybe" seems "OK" for this venture. In between we saw visited an extraordinary excavation in ancient Dan, in the far North of Israel. Unfortunately, this is one of the historic locations of one of the two golden calves used in the Northern Kingdom of Israel after the Kingdom was divided. When it came to following the commands of God, the people of this region wavered for a while with “maybe” then clearly choose the path of disobedience. On the positive side, it is pretty certain that an ancient Gate was uncovered from around 1900 BC, placing it in the time of Abraham. (below) That makes it most likely one of the oldest gates ever recovered in the history of the world. We also traveled into the Golan Heights. The region did not contain prominent biblical locations but it served to draw us back into the uncertainties of our modern moment. We toured the barracks of a border region where saw the former habitation of the Syrian Army. Recaptured in the 6 days war, the Golan Heights provide a protective barrier for modern Israel, but the region remains disputed. We were so close to Syria that at one point we could hear gunfire in the distance. Unlike central Israel the area is sparsely inhabited in spite of its bountiful farmland. Fewer people are willing to settle down in a region that remains in striking distance from Syria. Will Israel and her neighbors find a way to establish a lasting peace? The answer is a solid… “maybe.” We slept like logs after a fitful night on the plane. I woke early enough for a jog. After a quick breakfast our bus pulled out at 7:30 am for a long day of sight seeing.
(Photo) "Touristicus Americanus" - this species is not native to the region, but is spotted frequently throughout the landscape. The advantage of a group tour like this is that you get to see a lot of stuff in a short period of time. The disadvantage... you see a lot of stuff in a short period of time. We visited Cesaerea first in the morning. When Herod the Great built a deep water port here, the city thrived. But gradually the city faded and only recently was it replaced. This is highlighted by the smokestack of a modern natural gas power-plant rising above the ruins of the Roman ampi-theater. We were reminded that it was here that Peter first preached to the Gentiles and here that Paul appealed to Cesaer and began his journey to Rome in chains. On the darker side, we saw a stone commemorating a building project by the infamous Pontius Pilate and stood in the Hippodrome where later Jews and Christian's were fed to the lions. Our tour guide reminded us: "This sand has absorbed the blood of the martyrs." We flew from site to site throughout the day. We visited Mt. Carmel (below) and saw a commemorative statue of the prophet Elijah's deadly context with the prophets of Baal. Then we visited the ruins of the ancient city of Megido. Here 25 layers of habitation stretch back through seven millennia. The valley next to this region is known as the valley of Armageddon, site of John's apocalyptic conflict between good and evil. Then we visited the sea of Galilee. It is much smaller than I had imagined. We took a ride out onto the water on a modern boat and viewed a recently excavated fishing vessel from the first century. We closed the day with a visit to Capernaum. Since Jesus based much of his ministry out of this village, it was a very special stop. The ruins of a 3rd or 4th century synagogue are built on the ruins of a synagogue from the first century. (below) There is really no doubt that this is the ancient village of Caperaum, no doubt that this is the spot of the synagogue, and not doubt that Jesus preached in the synagogue of Capernaum. Therefore, we can be quite certain that we are standing on a place where Jesus did ministry. I have never before had the ability to say that. I'm still soaking that in. It was quite moving when our tour guide read, "I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die..." (Jn 6:48-50) "...Jesus said these things in the synagogue, as he taught at Capernaum." (Jn. 6:59) We arrived in Israel after a fairly long trip. Pittsburgh to Clearfield to Philadelphia to Frankfurt Germany to Tel Aviv. We have already heard the common Hebrew greeting, many times: “Shalom, Shalom.” The word means "peace", but so much of our arrival was a reminder that this land has long been anything but peaceful. It was interesting to travel to Israel with a connecting flight in Germany, as the attempted German genocide had such a role in leading to the restoration of Israel after the second World War.
I was warned that Israeli security is extremely careful, and it certainly is. After being screened at the airport in America, we went through another screening when we transferred flights in Germany. The process was more detailed than any I had ever seen. Every person was given a full body search. And after arriving in Israel certain people were pulled aside for further examination before being given approval for entry into the country. After flipping through my passport, the immigration agent called special security and I was relocated to the side room – presumably for suspicious people. Of all the travelers in our group, I was the only one who fit a profile alarming enough to warrant further investigation. So, there I sat – on the naughty bench with other suspected terrorists. There was no word, about what to expect. Would it take 5 minutes or 5 hours? Fortunately, it was 5-10 mins later that a border control agent came back with my passport and told me that I could go through. There was no explanation. The other suspects had not moved in that time. I am guessing that an American passport carries a fair amount of weight here. My fellow suspects were not so lucky. Mom thinks I was profiled because of my beard, but I think that it was because my passport showed a prior trip to Iraq (7 years ago.) So as I see it, my passport got me into trouble and it also got me out of trouble. We had flown into Ben Gurion airport and drove through Tel Aviv on the way to our hotel on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea. Our tour guide told us that the center of Israel is by far the most populated – in part because the regions further to the north are within range of missiles from the Golan Heights. Another reminder of the conflict in this region. Construction cranes spot the skyline as the sprawling urban center stretches across the land. Jewish immigrants, like our tour guide, come from across the world to the relative safety of their ancestral homeland. We had a short wait until dinner and used the time to catch the sun setting over the sea. On the way home we sighted a statue commemorating one of our favorite musicals. The fiddler on the roof is apparently as popular in Israel as it is the States. Just last summer, Mom and I watched a community Theater production of the play in Ocean City. In the closing scene, the Jewish inhabitants of the small Russian village of Anatevka are fleeing to America to escape the persecution of the Tsar. In the musical, the fiddler accompanies them on their pilgrimage, symbolizing the continuation of their traditions. Now, he is here to great us and welcome us to this contested land. “Shalom.” I will be flying to Israel tomorrow for a seven day educational trip. The journey will begin tonight when I pick up my mom and head out to Philadelphia where we will met other team members for this tour of the Holy Lands. I am really looking forward to time with my mom. And I am really looking forward to a break. But I have to admit that I am a little ambivalent about traveling to the "Holy Land." Is it a pilgrimage? Should we think of a particular land as being more holy?
The idea of a pilgrimage to a holy land is woven into the fabric of many world religions. It reminds me of the Middle English classic, the Canterbury Tales. Geoffrey Chaucer's imaginative tale about religious pilgrims in 14th century England is required reading for many students. It begins: Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote, The droghte of March hath perced to the roote... And specially from every shires ende, Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende, (When April with its showers sweet, The drought of March has pierced to the root... And, especially, from every shire's end, Of England, to Canterbury they wend,) Chaucer's pilgrims were journeying to see the shrine of the martyr Thomas Becket. They believed that his bones would make the place holy and give them special access to God's power. As Chaucer wrote, "the blessed martyr helped them when they were sick." But Protestants have always been cautious about the idea of calling a certain location "holy." In the Old Testament God's Spirit was present in the temple in a particular way, especially in the Holy of Holies. However, at death of Jesus the veil of this inner sanctum was torn in two and 50 days later the Holy Spirit was poured out on the church at Pentecost. Instead of emphasizing the presence of God in a physical building, the New Testament speaks of the people of God as being a new "living temple." (I Peter 2:5, Eph 2:22) God's Spirit is tied not to a geographic location, but to people who call on him through faith in Christ. Jesus promised that his Spirit would be present when two of more of his followers gather in his name. (Matt 18:20) I can remember, years ago, a former pastor saying about his trip to Israel, "I would rather be where Jesus is than be where Jesus was." Since Jesus dwells in his church, it is appropriate to remember that we are best able to draw near to God ... not by traveling to a historic location, but by drawing near to Christian fellowship. But. That is not all. While it certainly more important to be where Jesus is, there is significance to the geographic locations where Jesus was. Once I get over my initial cynicism about pilgrimages, there is a great deal that is exciting and helpful about a trip to Israel. I am reminded that Christian faith is centered around the idea of Incarnation. God came near and revealed himself through the person of Jesus Christ. And Jesus was a particular person who lived in a particular place. This is what some theologians have called the "scandal of the incarnation." That is, Jesus did not live everywhere. He lived in a specific place -mostly Galilee, and died in a specific place - outside of Jerusalem. He spoke a particular language - Aramaic. He was Jewish. He traveled (and walked) on particular waters - the sea of Galilee. He told stories to people embedded in the first century middle eastern world of fishermen, farmers and scoundrels. I am growing increasingly excited about seeing those places. I am thankful for the incredible privilege I have to make this trip. I plan to share pictures and reflections during my time there. If you are interested in following along, keep an eye on this blog over the next week or so. By Rev. Matt Koerber
As we continue to develop this discussion, we are turning to a different topic. Admittedly, there are many aspects of immigration policy that we have not directly addressed. Topics such as “amnesty”, “deportation”, “sanctuary cities”, “services for undocumented immigrants” and “assimilation” have only been given cursory attention – if they have been referenced at all. As we said from the outset, there is more in this subject than we could possibly hope to cover in six weeks. It is not our intent to be exhaustive and it is not our goal to resolve every issue. Instead we want to explore a breadth of topics related to immigration and try to forge a dialogue that is balanced and biblical. There is room for Christians to draw different conclusions on these matters. This week we will discuss “Refugees.” It is important to note from the very beginning that refugees are different from other types of immigrants. While immigrants choose to relocate – usually for educational or economic reasons; refugees are forced from their homeland – usually from fear of violence or famine. This important distinction should have an impact on our policy considerations. Refugees are people who are in need and have little choice in the matter. Many readers of this blog may know that last summer, I spent two months with my family working with refugees in Athens Greece. Some of the people that we spent time with were from Afghanistan, but most were from the Middle East – especifically Syria, where a long civil war has driven millions out of their own country. Through our experience, we had a window into a huge worldwide problem. The United Nations Refugee Agency (UNHCR) estimates that there are 21.3 million refugees worldwide, over half of whom are under the age of 18. The largest numbers come from Somalia (1.1m), Afghanistan (2.7m), and Syria (4.9m). While Greece receives a great deal of visibility for their refugee care, they only host about 60,000, while Turkey has more than 2.5 million refugees (see statistics here). It has been challenging for many countries to know how to respond. Germany and France has wrestled with these issues publicly, and this past winter, the presidential travel ban put the US refugee resettlement program on hold. (The halt to the refugee program has since been delayed in the courts.) How should Christians think about this difficult issue?
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AuthorMatt Koerber is the senior pastor at City Reformed Presbyterian church. This is his personal blog that he also asks guest writers to participate on. Archives
August 2018
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