Some of you will recognize this post's title from the 1942 Bette Davis tear-jerker. Bette is a timid, neurotic, mother-dominated, frumpy spinster who decides to break away and go on a cruise by herself. She sees the world, learns to live on her own, makes wonderful new friends, and finds love. But the love she finds is not completely available; he is married. So Bette decides to accept the situation. In the movie's signature line she says she won't ask for the moon because the stars are enough.
The title comes from a short Walt Whitman poem: "The untold want by life and land ne'er granted, Now voyager sail thou forth to seek and find."
The untold want. It can take us to hard places sometimes. It can get us in trouble. It can make us realize what we left behind when we sailed forth. It puts me in mind of Dorothy's search for the Emerald City that was right in her own backyard. (I don't get to see movies here, can you tell?)
It isn't always easy being here. In fact, most of the time it's not easy. Sometimes it's almost unbearably hard. Unbearable loneliness, unbearable frustration, unbearable uncertainty. On good days I love where I am and who I'm with and write interesting blogs and take neat photos. On bad days I don't. On those days I wonder why I'm here and whether I should stay. I'm learning how to get through the bad days better: I walk somewhere near where I know someone will have a friendly smile, I read emails from dear ones, I check on how the Spurs are doing. Sometimes I pray; not as much as might help. Finally I go to sleep, trusting and knowing, after all, that there is a safe harbor for me if I need it.
Have you ever been playing in the surf and you see a nice big wave coming that you decide you'll jump or ride in? Then the wave proves much more powerful than you thought and you're thrown down to the bottom and spun around so you don't know where the surface is? You panic for a moment, but then spring up to air. It's like that alot for me here. Fortunately I've kept managing to find the surface.
But why is this all about me? Isn't doing mission supposed to be about God's work? Shouldn't that be all that matters? I don't know, maybe so. But Jesus was pretty good at doing God's work and look how much time he spent on those poor confused bumbling disciples. I bet they missed their friends and families, and wished they were back on their fishing boats sometimes, too!
The voyage is hard; and darn it, I still want the stars and the moon.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Around the 'Hood
I live in East Jerusalem. The designation is important here. One of the three major issues that peace needs to deal with is the status of Jerusalem. Who does it "belong to"? East Jerusalem is predominantly Arab and is more or less considered part of Palestine, although it is not necessary to pass a check point to get here. West Jerusalem is clearly Israel. The two sides are very different.
I live in a mostly commercial area. The other day I went strolling and found an area with all kinds of useful shops - a hardware store even! The streets are usually busy and full of life and all kinds of interesting shops and people. I love walking around here. I've bonded with my favorites, of course: the ice cream shop, the money changer I use (the owner used to live in Ft Worth!), my favorite little restaurant, a laundry, a really great book and office supply store. Not too far away is the place where I'll be studying Arabic in January.
I love the people whose community I share. Quite handsome, and I have found them always polite, amazingly hospitable, friendly, and so easy to laugh. They love jokes and laughing. Sadly, there is high unemployment, so there are always alot of young people about. Music is heard everywhere on the streets. It's a very energetic place.
There are sort of 3 days of weekend here and it took me awhile to plan accordingly. Friday is the Muslim day of prayer, so in my area most shops and businesses are closed. Saturday is the Jewish Shabbat which is not so noticeable here but most of West Jerusalem is closed on that day. Sunday is Christian sabbath, but there are very few Christians left here - less than 2% of the population now - so it is only noticeable to a few probably.
The Old City is just a few blocks away. It's become one of my favorite places in the world. As we see it now, it dates from about the 15th century or so. It's not as it was in Jesus' time. The Jerusalem he knew was to the south of the current Old City. In fact, inside today's Old City is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, aka Church of the Resurrection, which commemorates the traditional site of Jesus' crucifixion and burial - events which by their nature had to be outside the city in his day. There are four quarters of the Old City: Muslim, Christian, Jewish, and Armenian. Each has a distinctive feel.
A wall, mostly built by Suleiman the Magnificent, completely surrounds today's Old City. There are about 8 gates into the city. It's easy to think of the Old City as just commercial but in fact about 30,000 people live there.
Some photos of the area I live in are on the slideshow. Click on the slideshow and you will go to the web album where they're posted for captions and easier viewing.
I'll be doing alot more exploring and will do my best to write about it, with photos.
I live in a mostly commercial area. The other day I went strolling and found an area with all kinds of useful shops - a hardware store even! The streets are usually busy and full of life and all kinds of interesting shops and people. I love walking around here. I've bonded with my favorites, of course: the ice cream shop, the money changer I use (the owner used to live in Ft Worth!), my favorite little restaurant, a laundry, a really great book and office supply store. Not too far away is the place where I'll be studying Arabic in January.
I love the people whose community I share. Quite handsome, and I have found them always polite, amazingly hospitable, friendly, and so easy to laugh. They love jokes and laughing. Sadly, there is high unemployment, so there are always alot of young people about. Music is heard everywhere on the streets. It's a very energetic place.
There are sort of 3 days of weekend here and it took me awhile to plan accordingly. Friday is the Muslim day of prayer, so in my area most shops and businesses are closed. Saturday is the Jewish Shabbat which is not so noticeable here but most of West Jerusalem is closed on that day. Sunday is Christian sabbath, but there are very few Christians left here - less than 2% of the population now - so it is only noticeable to a few probably.
The Old City is just a few blocks away. It's become one of my favorite places in the world. As we see it now, it dates from about the 15th century or so. It's not as it was in Jesus' time. The Jerusalem he knew was to the south of the current Old City. In fact, inside today's Old City is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, aka Church of the Resurrection, which commemorates the traditional site of Jesus' crucifixion and burial - events which by their nature had to be outside the city in his day. There are four quarters of the Old City: Muslim, Christian, Jewish, and Armenian. Each has a distinctive feel.
A wall, mostly built by Suleiman the Magnificent, completely surrounds today's Old City. There are about 8 gates into the city. It's easy to think of the Old City as just commercial but in fact about 30,000 people live there.
Some photos of the area I live in are on the slideshow. Click on the slideshow and you will go to the web album where they're posted for captions and easier viewing.
I'll be doing alot more exploring and will do my best to write about it, with photos.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Pray for the Peace of Jerusalem
I went to the English-speaking service at the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer in the Old City yesterday. There is a marvelous interdenominational spirit here and because the Christian community is so small, both native and expat, everyone sort of knows everyone else.
One of the readings for yesterday was from Jeremiah chapter 23: "Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! says the Lord. Therefore, thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, concerning the shepherds who shepherd my people: It is you who have scattered my flock, and have driven them away, and you have not attended to them...Then I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply. I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing..."
You don't have to be here very long to hear this as having nothing to do with sheep! Nor does it take much listening to people's stories to know that all sides here can legitimately feel scattered and unattended.
Folks here don't think much of the Annapolis meeting. They believe it is a show. But cynicism and sarcasm will get us nowhere. So I invite you to consider the prayer for this meeting being offered by the Council for Middle East Peace. You can find the entire prayer at http://cmep.org/documents/2007_Congregational_prayer_for_peace.pdf
Part of it says, "Oh God of mercy and compassion, Embrace our Israeli and Palestinian brothers and sisters. They have endured profound loss and sorrow. They are fatigued by fear and anger. Mend their broken hearts and failing spirits. Ignite in them sparks of hope. Comfort them and guide them onto the road of peace."
Pray for the Peace of Jerusalem.
One of the readings for yesterday was from Jeremiah chapter 23: "Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! says the Lord. Therefore, thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, concerning the shepherds who shepherd my people: It is you who have scattered my flock, and have driven them away, and you have not attended to them...Then I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply. I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing..."
You don't have to be here very long to hear this as having nothing to do with sheep! Nor does it take much listening to people's stories to know that all sides here can legitimately feel scattered and unattended.
Folks here don't think much of the Annapolis meeting. They believe it is a show. But cynicism and sarcasm will get us nowhere. So I invite you to consider the prayer for this meeting being offered by the Council for Middle East Peace. You can find the entire prayer at http://cmep.org/documents/2007_Congregational_prayer_for_peace.pdf
Part of it says, "Oh God of mercy and compassion, Embrace our Israeli and Palestinian brothers and sisters. They have endured profound loss and sorrow. They are fatigued by fear and anger. Mend their broken hearts and failing spirits. Ignite in them sparks of hope. Comfort them and guide them onto the road of peace."
Pray for the Peace of Jerusalem.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Promise in Gaza
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the US and marks my first week on this mission. In just that one week, it has already been a rich rollercoaster. I wonder what else is in store?
On my first Sunday here I attended church at St George's, the cathedral of the Diocese, pictured to the right. Sunday services are offered in English, Arabic, and both. Sunday I attended the bilingual service. It was a full house and the combined voices and languages in corporate prayer and song is a pretty amazing thing.
The Gospel reading was from Luke chapter 21 where Jesus speaks the dire prediction that the Temple and Jerusalem will be destroyed and brothers and sisters will betray each other. It is a story of uncertainty and suffering. Then he provides the promise: for those who live the life he embodies, not a hair will be harmed and souls will be gained.
Then yesterday, I visited Gaza. Only one day there and it's hard to know how to say it all. This blog will unpack the experiences in coming posts. But what should I say to you now? Should I tell you about the pervasive destruction and damage to virtually every structure? About the visible despair in people? About the children with observable evidence of malnutrition? About the current restrictions that allow no fruit but bananas to enter the area? About the previous restriction that allowed no milk in for several weeks? About the proscription of 80 medicines that are not allowed to enter the area? About the rubbish everywhere, some of it burning, some of it partially burned? About the resulting smell? About the family we visited who live in a cemetery? Live there. About the patients who lie in hospital and die because the necessary medication or surgery is not available and there is no possibility of leaving to go where they can get it? None. About the "security" measures on entering and leaving that may or may not provide security but that cannot fail to dehumanize, anger, and frustrate? About the man who said, "Dreams are forbidden in Gaza"? About the many people who told me that living in Gaza is living in prison?
What is there to say about a place of such suffering and uncertainty? Where is the promise in Gaza?
In a situation so complicated and so overlaid with conflict upon conflict, it's hard to know where to look for promise. But as I spent the day listening and learning, it seemed to me that the promise begins in the people there who still - somehow, incomprehensibly - laugh easily and share their tea, their stories, and their hospitality. Who ask for little except fairness and some compassion. Who want to be allowed to work, take care of themselves and their families, and have food to eat.
But the promise has to include you and me, the brothers and sisters of the people in Gaza. The powers of the world will continue to wrangle and fight, so it might be up to us. How can we help? What can we do? Should we help, should we do?
As people in the US celebrate and give thanks in the next few days, I invite you to ask whether the world you want to live in - whether the "Kingdom of Heaven" or Paradise or ideal world you imagine includes this Gaza. If it does not, what will you do??
On my first Sunday here I attended church at St George's, the cathedral of the Diocese, pictured to the right. Sunday services are offered in English, Arabic, and both. Sunday I attended the bilingual service. It was a full house and the combined voices and languages in corporate prayer and song is a pretty amazing thing.
The Gospel reading was from Luke chapter 21 where Jesus speaks the dire prediction that the Temple and Jerusalem will be destroyed and brothers and sisters will betray each other. It is a story of uncertainty and suffering. Then he provides the promise: for those who live the life he embodies, not a hair will be harmed and souls will be gained.
Then yesterday, I visited Gaza. Only one day there and it's hard to know how to say it all. This blog will unpack the experiences in coming posts. But what should I say to you now? Should I tell you about the pervasive destruction and damage to virtually every structure? About the visible despair in people? About the children with observable evidence of malnutrition? About the current restrictions that allow no fruit but bananas to enter the area? About the previous restriction that allowed no milk in for several weeks? About the proscription of 80 medicines that are not allowed to enter the area? About the rubbish everywhere, some of it burning, some of it partially burned? About the resulting smell? About the family we visited who live in a cemetery? Live there. About the patients who lie in hospital and die because the necessary medication or surgery is not available and there is no possibility of leaving to go where they can get it? None. About the "security" measures on entering and leaving that may or may not provide security but that cannot fail to dehumanize, anger, and frustrate? About the man who said, "Dreams are forbidden in Gaza"? About the many people who told me that living in Gaza is living in prison?
What is there to say about a place of such suffering and uncertainty? Where is the promise in Gaza?
In a situation so complicated and so overlaid with conflict upon conflict, it's hard to know where to look for promise. But as I spent the day listening and learning, it seemed to me that the promise begins in the people there who still - somehow, incomprehensibly - laugh easily and share their tea, their stories, and their hospitality. Who ask for little except fairness and some compassion. Who want to be allowed to work, take care of themselves and their families, and have food to eat.
But the promise has to include you and me, the brothers and sisters of the people in Gaza. The powers of the world will continue to wrangle and fight, so it might be up to us. How can we help? What can we do? Should we help, should we do?
As people in the US celebrate and give thanks in the next few days, I invite you to ask whether the world you want to live in - whether the "Kingdom of Heaven" or Paradise or ideal world you imagine includes this Gaza. If it does not, what will you do??
Friday, November 2, 2007
Al AWWAL
Al awwal. "The first" or "the beginning" in Arabic. But while this may be the first post in this new blog, it is certainly not the beginning in a journey that now turns toward the Holy Land.
My name is Harry. I'm a retired pediatrician and a newly commissioned Volunteer for Mission of the Episcopal Church, USA. In two weeks I'll begin a mission in the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem, which includes Israel, the Occupied Territories of Palestine, Lebanon, Jordan, and Syria.
This blog will chronicle the experiences of that mission: the work and play, the places and people, the secular and the holy, and the gifts and graces. It will also, inevitably, chronicle the personal reflections and impressions of this missioner. I hope that will sometimes be informative, but will try to be aware when it gets in the way. Reader comments, heartily welcomed, will help with that.
What does it mean to be a missionary in the year 2007, anyway? Especially in a church that is right now engaged in a mighty struggle to define its own community. Well, I don't know yet what it means. I invite you to follow along and see if we can all figure this out together. But I think it has something to do with the story in Luke 18:35ff. Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem for the events that will bring untold suffering to him and change the course of humankind. As he passes through Jericho he encounters a blind beggar. Jesus stops and asks the man, "What do you want me to do for you?" Imagine what Jesus is experiencing in those days, yet he takes the time to stop and encounter another. Jesus doesn't immediately heal what appears to need to be healed, he doesn't tell the man his sins made him blind, he doesn't tell him to do anything at all. He just sits with the man, lets the man speak for himself, and asks how he can help.
What I love about this story is what I think it can teach us about mission if we imagine ourselves both as Jesus and as the beggar. Jesus just being present and issuing love without setting terms, asking back, demanding, squeezing, or possessing. The beggar recognizing what is happening and letting that graciousness heal his blind, hungry neediness.
Can I do that? Can you do that? Can we help teach each other to do that? I think maybe this mission is about that.
So please visit this site frequently and send your comments.
Tfaddalu, fuutu. "Please, come in."
My name is Harry. I'm a retired pediatrician and a newly commissioned Volunteer for Mission of the Episcopal Church, USA. In two weeks I'll begin a mission in the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem, which includes Israel, the Occupied Territories of Palestine, Lebanon, Jordan, and Syria.
This blog will chronicle the experiences of that mission: the work and play, the places and people, the secular and the holy, and the gifts and graces. It will also, inevitably, chronicle the personal reflections and impressions of this missioner. I hope that will sometimes be informative, but will try to be aware when it gets in the way. Reader comments, heartily welcomed, will help with that.
What does it mean to be a missionary in the year 2007, anyway? Especially in a church that is right now engaged in a mighty struggle to define its own community. Well, I don't know yet what it means. I invite you to follow along and see if we can all figure this out together. But I think it has something to do with the story in Luke 18:35ff. Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem for the events that will bring untold suffering to him and change the course of humankind. As he passes through Jericho he encounters a blind beggar. Jesus stops and asks the man, "What do you want me to do for you?" Imagine what Jesus is experiencing in those days, yet he takes the time to stop and encounter another. Jesus doesn't immediately heal what appears to need to be healed, he doesn't tell the man his sins made him blind, he doesn't tell him to do anything at all. He just sits with the man, lets the man speak for himself, and asks how he can help.
What I love about this story is what I think it can teach us about mission if we imagine ourselves both as Jesus and as the beggar. Jesus just being present and issuing love without setting terms, asking back, demanding, squeezing, or possessing. The beggar recognizing what is happening and letting that graciousness heal his blind, hungry neediness.
Can I do that? Can you do that? Can we help teach each other to do that? I think maybe this mission is about that.
So please visit this site frequently and send your comments.
Tfaddalu, fuutu. "Please, come in."
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