A Testimony

"Yes, I have walked where Jesus walked. I have bathed my feet on the shores of Galilee...I have prayed in Gethsemane, and I have worshipped silently at the garden tomb. Each place stirred my soul and made me feel his holy presence. But I have not seen him in this life, nor have I spoken with him face-to-face. I know, however, that he lives and that he loves me. Through the power of the Holy Spirit I can testify that I know him."
-Elder Carlos E Asay

Dead Sea

The ocean has 3% salinity; the Great Salt Lake has 10%. The Dead Sea topples them both with a whopping 30% salinity. "Doesn't that burn?" you ask. Why yes, it does. We were advised not to shave our legs the day before our dip in the Dead Sea, and yet I was still surprised at how uncomfortable the highly-salted natural broth is. It's as hot as a bathtub, and the rocks are all encrusted with a thick layer of salt crystals. But certainly worth the buoyant swim.

Finals

I have beed dreading Professor Chadwick's Ancient Near Eastern Studies final since our first class quiz (which I failed in a most uncharacteristic manner). Dates, names, archaeological periods...whew. I love history, but sometimes our Carta textbook is just too much to handle. I was not at all comforted when Professor Chadwick sent a full page of dates to memorize and a map with 50 places to be able to identify.

But would you believe that when I studied for this final, the Holy Ghost took all of the little bits of knowledge that I have been wrestling to understand and created a wonderful mosaic of history, culture, and gospel doctrine? Questions were answered, and questions formed. I can whip out those dates and locations like you wouldn't believe, and I am thrilled to view Jesus Christ in his historical/cultural context. I nearly cried before the test--not because I was scared to take it, but because I realized for the hundredth time that Heavenly Father loves me enough to give me wonderful challenges and great instructors. He understands my hunger for knowledge, and He satiates me.

Ramadan

I fasted for 2 meals today, typical monthly Mormon style. I ate dinner with relish, and it made me think about my Muslim neighbors who are celebrating Ramadan this month. They don't eat or drink until the sun goes down at night. Our poor Palestinian chefs have been cooking for us every day this week, handling our food and drink without being able to have any of their own until approximately 7:35 when the sun goes down and the Ramadan cannon fires. The shopkeepers are unusually sluggish, and they complain of the heat. It might not be the best month to bargain for souveniers (especially if they are as cranky as I am when I don't have food). The streets are full of neon lights when the sun goes down, and the falafel shops have traded their pita for palm-sized pancake/crepes. I don't fully understand what a fast means to a Muslim, but it was nice to feel like we had something in common for 18 hours today.

Last Supper

John 13-17; Matt 26

When I read about the Last Supper, I think of it as Jesus' goodbye to his disciples. He knew that his sacrifice was coming near, and he planned in advance to have a final Passover seder with his disciples. His counsels were to say goodbye, and to prepare them for the impossibly hard reality of his death. He washed their feet, and they sat down for a meal. It would have included the traditional seder foods (pita, bitter herbs, roasted lamb, etc), as well as other non-ritual foods that overwinter well (dates, nuts, apples, boiled eggs, olives, bean dips, etc). The "sop" that he dipped for Judas would be a dip like they still serve with pita today--probably hummus or various marinated salads. They reclined at a Roman-style triclineum table (a low, floor-hugging three-sided table that they would have leaned on with their left arms while they ate with their right hands), which explains why John was leaning against Jesus' chest.

During a traditional seder meal, one peice of bread is hidden and then brought out at the end of the meal to be broken into olive-sized pieces and shared with everyone present. The usual prayer on bread is uttered, with the addition of "in remembrance of the sacrificial lamb." The third glass of wine is drunken and the same prayer is said. When Jesus gave the unleaved bread and the glass of wine to his disciples, he changed the prayer to make it clear to his disciples that he was the sacrificial lamb. "This do in remembrance of me," he said.

Touchstone

I sat on the steps that led up to the temple complex, and it was one of the few times that an archaeolical excavation actually meant something to me. That "touchstone" feeling of a genuine closeness to the Savior snuck up on me quietly as we sang "Nearer, My God to Thee" on the pathway ascending to the temple that Jesus loved.

I'm not the only one who loved the place. When Neil Armstrong visited the Holy Land, he asked his Jewish guide to take him to a place where Christ surely would have been. His guide led him to these same stairs that lead to the Huldah Gates, near hundreds of mikvahs (ritual immersion baths) on the way to Herod's temple. Armstrong stopped and prayed, and when he had finished praying he commented to his guide that standing there meant more to him than it did to stand on the moon.

Christian Quarter

Did you know that the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is jointly owned by 6 different Christian churches? A Muslim family acts as the gatekeeper to prevent disagreement between the various churches. Amazingly, we got a picture with the man who opens the doors to the church everyday!

Another interesting feature about the church that your tourguides might not point out is an old wooden ladder that has been leaning on the upper facade of the church since the mid-1800's. It was placed there to make repairs, but it was never removed because no one can decide who has the responsibility to remove it.

Taebo in Jeru

Exercise is good.

Exercising with people I love? Better still.

Exercising with people I love on a balcony overlooking Jerusalem at night? Best of all.

Home

When we pulled into the drive at the Jerusalem Center, it felt like home.

How strange and wonderful. Brother Judd promised us when he picked us up from the airport in April that Jerusalem would become our home, but feeling it was much warmer and more poignant that I expected.

Just in time to say goodbye.

(With Julie in the JC Oasis Kitchen, helping prepare the Seder Meal. Students aren't normally allowed in the kitchen!)

Oh, Galilea!

(On the Sea of Galilea - photo courtesy of Ashley Wilkinson)

How can one blog post possibly encapsulate ten days in the Galilea? Galilea was the center of Christ's earthly ministry, where the Savior delivered his parables and where thousands were blessed by miracles at his hand. Galilea won my heart with its warm sea and its impossibly hot Jordan Rift Valley climate. Organizing my thoughts about Galilea is an impossible feat. There is nothing to do for it--you will have to endure a scatter-brained bullet list:

*We sang "Master, The Tempest Is Raging" as we boated across the Sea of Galilea. Originally, lyracist Mary Ann Baker wrote the chorus in first-person, as though it were a dialogue between the disciples and Jesus. When we sang it, we followed Baker's original verse. (pg. 105 in the hymnbook)

*Our rafting trip down the Jordan River proved to be exciting, despite the fact that the water was only 3-feet deep and virtually still. We put on our scurviest attitudes, and attempted to splash, swamp, steal from, and overtake our neighboring rafts. Who knew that Sister Ohman (our stake president's wife) could be such a pirate?

*The bungalows were quaint, and my front door was less than two minutes from the shoreline. The sea is as warm and pleasant as the temperature is hot and miserable. Every free afternoon that was not spent studying or fieldtripping was a blissful day in the water.

*Walking in Christ's footsteps was a pleasure. We visited Tabgha (traditional site of Christ's meal with the disciples), Capernaum (Jesus' "own city," says the New Testament), and Nazareth (Jesus' childhood home). We also visited Sepphoris (where the Mishneh was compiled, and where mosaics litter the ancient town floors), Caesarea Maritima (built by Herod; visited by Paul when he was confronted by Festus and Felix), Akko (ancient crusader ruins), Nimrod's castle, Tel Dan (the northernmost edge of Old Testament united monarchy Israel), Megiddo (Biblical Armeggedon, with archaelogical destruction layers!), the Bahai headquarter gardens, the Haifa Cemetery (burial place of some important LDS pioneers in the Holy Land), and Mount Tabor (traditional site of the transfiguration).

*I played the role of a priest of Ba'al on Mount Carmel. ...Obviously not the role I want to play in real life, but memorable no doubt.

*I've seen more crusader ruins, more tels, more aqueducts, and more casemate walls and Solomonic gates than I care to admit.

*At Tel Dan, we walked through old bungalows from the '67 war. Syria and Israel fought for the area because when they drew the borders, the pencil line on the map was too thick, which led to some ambiguity as to who actually laid claim on the land. That was my favorite gem for the gee-whiz file.

*We held church with the branch in Tiberias, at the first dedicated branch house in the Holy Land. That was the best thing of all. Knowing that Jesus Christ lived and died, and being able to partake of weekly ordinances in His name is something that I can take with me from Galilea. I won't always be able to walk in the Savior's geographic footsteps, but when I covenant each week to remember Him, I promise to try my best to develop a heart like His and to follow His example. I am grateful to follow my Savior, in Galilea and wherever I go.

Wedding

Palestinians know how to do weddings. Step one: hors d'oeuvres (fresh pita and family-style dips). Step two: dance (hands in the air, side-to-side, with the bride and groom as the centripital focus). Step three: main course (meat, potatoes, fried potato and cheese items, vegetables). Step four: dance again. Step five: dessert. Step six: keep dancing!

When I thought about why our money changer invited us to his nephew's wedding, I came to two possible conclusions: 1. American kids like to dance. I'm not sure if they think we're crazy or if they enjoy the spectacle, but they get a kick out of it. Aladdin (our money changer) pushed us to the dance floor, and the videographer gave us way too much footage, considering that we had never met the bride or groom. 2. The bride was Dutch and the groom was Palestinian; they needed someone to sit with the bride's family to put them at ease. I'm not sure how much we helped. The parents of the bride were experiencing their very first taste of Palestinian culture. They looked a little shocked when the drummers crowded around them and when they were pulled into the center of the dance floor, but they embraced it. I hope I never forget their faces. The collision of cultures was a fascinating thing to watch.

On whole, the wedding was a people-watcher's dream. My table consisted of a Canadian tour-guide, an Israeli soldier, an Arabic money-changer, four Mormon kids, and the Dutch family of three. The food was great, the dancing was a riot, and the music was fun, but what delighted most me was the silent ethnographic inquiry that tickled my mind all evening long.

West Bank

Maybe it's just poor exposure to world affairs on my part, but somehow I imagined the West Bank as a desolate, empty land made entirely of packed dirt and barbed wire.

Why didn't I know that Bethlehem was in West Bank? Why didn't I know that it isn't an empty land? How didn't I know that there are people there, living normal lives and building beautiful futures for themselves? I was impressed by the college students that we visited with at Bethlehem University. They're just like us. In a panel discussion, they were nearly unanimous in admitting that what each one wants from life is to get an education, raise a cute family, and have a good job. Just like me.

Sure, their situation is different from mine. They've got separation walls and checkpoints. There are family members that they can't visit and places that they can't go, but they have big plans and bright visions for the future.

Are they prejudiced against Israelis? Do they spout bitter diatribes against checkpoint soldiers? Maybe some of them do, but not the ones that I met. They were a hopeful, open-minded group. If they were at all representative of the rising generation, then I have renewed hope in Palestinian-Israeli relations.

Obedience

Soteriology: the theological doctrine of salvation

The question pertained to Jewish eschatology. His answer surprised and delighted me.

"The reward for obeying the commandments is obeying the commandments. There's nothing transcendental about it," said my Judaism professor. He said that soteriology doesn't really exist in Judaism. There's not much focus on the eventuality of salvation. They obey for the pleasure of obeying. There's no waiting for your pie in the sky.

"Thank you, God, for giving me the opportunity to obey today."

Amen, dear professor. It is a gift to obey the commandments of a loving Heavenly Father.

Merry Christmas and Happy Independence Day!

While you watched fireworks and ate a bratwurst, I sang Christmas hymns in Shepherd's field in Jerusalem. It sounds like an enviable experience, doesn't it? But please don't feel left out. I am astounded over and over that the sites themselves aren't what make the gospel significant. I feel just as large a portion of the Holy Ghost in my bedroom while I read scriptures as I do when I sit in the very place that angels heralded Christ's birth.

Besides, you had barbeque while I had none.

It seemed appropriate to celebrate independence and Christ's birth on the same day. It is Jesus Christ, after all, who sets us free from death and hell. "Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage" (Gal 5:1).

Honestly, the best part of the day was being made my professor's four-year old daughter's official bus buddy. I won her affection by playing 30 minutes of eye-spy on the bus, and she claimed me as her fieldtrip friend. She granted me wishes from her magical butterfly, drew pictures in my journal, and held my hand at all the sites.

The Red Sea

Moses parted it.

I snorkel in it.

Maybe not so dramatic as Moses' feat, but certainly a small-scale miracle.

I might have rented a life-jacket (I don't swim), and I may or may not have held hands with a male classmate to alleviate some juvenile fears of drowning (or maybe just for the sake of holding hands), but there you have it.

The Kshh-pfshh Darth Vader breathing filled my ears, and I felt a keen sense of aloneness. Just me and the ocean. Strange how reverent a crowded sea can be.

Opiate of the Masses

Marx might be right. I hesitate to say this in a public venue, since the man is so heavily villianized, but he made a valid point. Religion might just be the opiate of the masses.

Mind you, Marx said this in a demeaning way while I say it with utmost admiration, but it is true. Religion is an anti-depressant and a purveyor of high moral values. It creates a sense of community and effectively destroys the tyranny of loneliness and despair. It’s my drug of choice.

On Sunday, my group of three stumbled across a chapel in West Jerusalem. We were invited to stay for mass, and were happy to do so. The Pilipino congregation welcomed us, and we sat at the back and pretended to know the tunes to their acoustic guitar and tambourine-accompanied hymns. We passed a pen back and forth urgently to take notes when the priest gave a thoughtful discourse on the eucharist, and when I left after 80 minutes, I felt uplifted and happy. First dose of religious opiate for the week.

To avoid studying for midterms on Thursday, we trouped to the Western Wall to watch Bar Mitzvahs. I focused on a timid, dimpled teenage boy who was gently prodded on by the men of his family while the women watched attentively from the other side of the screen. I was reminded of my own family and our own religious coming-of-age rituals, and I tasted a second dose of Marx’s opiate for the week.

During Friday night synagogue service, my mind wandered while the Hebrew verse rolled along. I read the prayer book and mumbled along to the music. I watched the kids running around the chairs and the women greeting each other and heard a male voice belting slightly out of tune from the other side of the room. “How very alike we are,” I thought, “and how glad I am that we have religion to bring us together.” Bless that little nonsubstance stimulant.

My last dose of religious opiate this week was my favorite. Fast and testimony meeting with the Jerusalem Center branch is a treat. The hymns never fail to hit home, and the line for the podium is always too long for the time allotted for bearing testimony. The Savior was the predominant focus of our meeting, and I knew that the Spirit and the gospel of Jesus Christ are opiates to us because they are true. Religion is good inasmuch as it unites men and women. That is the Savior’s message, and my legal opiate.

Yad Vashem

Remembering the Holocaust is good; it makes me cringe at the thought of harming another human being. My experience at Jerusalem’s Holocaust memorial was solemn, but I left with my favorite Anne Frank quote running through my head:

“In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart."

Jordan

My first impression of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan was stifled by heat. Once I got past the summer temperatures, I was impressed by the ruins and the local customs. The service was fascinating. One hotel greeted us with orange juice and horses at the door--orange juice for drinking, and horses just in case we wanted to take a little jaunt before we checked in, I suppose. After dinner, the waiters helped us form a circle around the dinner bar where we did a simple Jordanian folkdance before bed. I was also intrigued by the gender ideologies in Jordan. Women can choose whether or not to wear a head covering, and it seems that the majority of them do. As tourists, we are taught to be especially wary of the local men. If you happen to visit, don't wink, don't stroke your mustache, and don't go out with wet hair...these things have highly promiscuous connotations. My favorite activity was a walk down local Amman, where the morning wares were being set out for the day. I blame my parents for the ridiculous delight that I take in stands of fresh local produce, live poultry, and barrels of spices.

Petra

They say that the ruins at Petra are sufficient to occupy archaeologists for the next 100 years. Indiana Jones doesn't do it justice.

Anticipated temperature: 102 degrees farenheight

Number of steps up to the monestary: 900

Pictures taken: approximately one kajillion

Items crossed of the bucket list: one

Machaerus

Machaerus is Herod's hilltop palace where John the Baptist was imprisoned and beheaded (Matthew 14). We sang "We Thank Thee, Oh God for a Prophet" in rememberance of the man.

Like John, I need to remember that "He [Christ] must increase, and I must decrease..." (John 3:30)

On second thought, maybe our pictures of dancing Herodian daughters and beheading weren't appropriate...

Shoback Castle

Climbed the antiquities and discovered a long creepy tunnel. Check.

Mt. Nebo

This is where Moses looked out over the land of Israel though he did not enter in. Tradition holds that Moses was also buried on Mt. Nebo, though the exact location is unknown because angels performed the ritual...an interesting correspondance with our own restored knowledge that Moses was actually translated! Knowing that Moses and Elijah were both translated in this general location, we rejoiced in the reappearances of the men in the latter days. In celebration of the restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ, we sang "The Spirit of God."

Jerash

Roman ruins from a Decapolis city (the New Testament tells us that Jesus taught in several Decapolis cities). I've seen a whole lot of Roman ruins, but these definitely took the cake. We spent a couple of hours hiking, performing in the theater, dancing to bagpipers (and you thought they were all Scottish), and buying cheap ice-cream and jewelry.

Citadel at Ammon

Modern Ammon is Old Testament Rabbat Ammon (where Uriah died in battle at David's behest) and New Testament Philedelphia, another Decapolis city. ...mostly we loved posing as Hercules in the Hercules temple.

Jabbock River

Possibly the most sacred site that we visited, the Jabbock River is where Jacob wrestled with an angel. He crossed over the river on his way to Bethel (where he covenanted with God in his ladder dream) and again when he was facing the difficult commandment of returning to his homeland where Esau threatened. The location fostered a marvelous devotional about covenants, and made me stop to reflect about my own covenants. How thankful I am to know that I Jacob's descendant, able to recieve all of the blessings and covenants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob!

Madaba

Mosaic town, with a 5th century church full of splendid mosaics (notably the archaeological classic map of Old Jerusalem).

Baptismal Site.

It's funny that being at the Jordan River (at the precise spot that scholars predict Jesus' baptism took place) doesn't guarantee a spiritual experience. I feel guilty for even suggesting that the experience could be anything less than revelatory. In fact, my feelings were simple. I was thankful for the simple doctrines of the restored gospel, and most especially for the gift of the Holy Ghost. What would my life be like without the guidance of the Spirit? Isn't it wonderful that we know that ordinances such as baptism are extended to all of God's children, even through vicarious temple work?

Old Testament: A Book of Epic Proportions

Imagine. You are king of a large city, whose population recently exploded due to an influx of refugees from a neighboring state that was breached by the Assyrian army. Lachish and Azekah, the two fortress cities that stand between you and the Assyrian army, have fallen. The Assyrians are expanding their mighty empire by utilizing terror, displaying the slain and sending survivors to tell the sad tale. You build up walls around your city and send tributes from the temple treasury to appease the Assyrian king, but the threat is imminent nonetheless.

One day, a man named Rab-Shakeh appears at the city gate with a message to your people—“Let not thy God in whom thou trustest deceive thee, saying Jerusalem shall not be delivered into the hand of the king of Assyria. Behold, thou hast heard what the kings of Assyria have done to all lands, by destroying them utterly…” (2 Kings 19:10).

When Hezekiah received the news from his counselors, he didn’t mourn. He didn’t hide. “Hezekiah went up into the house of the Lord, and spread it before the Lord” (2 Kings 19:14). He uttered a powerful prayer, explaining to God about their daunting enemies and beseeching him with absolute faith to save them from the impossible odds. That night, 185,000 of the Assyrian army died by the Lord’s hand, and Hezekiah and Jerusalem were saved by the hand of the Lord (2 Kings 19:35).

I love this story, not just because it is larger-than-life-reminds-me-of-Lord-of-the-Rings sort of cool. I love it because Hezekiah took his impossible problems and spread them out before the Lord. He didn’t run from them or cry about them. He trusted in God to deliver, and God did so.

Epic? Yes, sir. Feels like it was written just for me? Mm-hm.

Oh, how I love the Old Testament.

Missed You, Dear Blog

Dear blog, I missed you last week. My little fingers didn’t want to type a word, so I skipped the promised weekly update. Here are a few highlights:

*CITY OF DAVID. Watched a heart-warming propogandic historical overview of Jerusalem’s history in 3-D. Visited the ruins of David’s palace, where Isaiah counseled the kings of Judah. Walked through chilly thigh-high water in a tight little tunnel …scary but oh so fun. Read about Christ healing a blind man at the pool of Siloam where healed a blind man 2000 years ago.

*TEMPLE INSTITUTE. They’re earning up to build the third temple of Jerusalem, and they have a cute little museum to tell you about it. Who knew what the instruments of the second temple looked like? My favorite part is definitely the table of shewbread. I always imagined a little sacrament tray, but it’s much bigger. Think of a huge brass display for 12 gigantic loaves of bread. I wish I could procure one for our Thanksgiving pies.

*SEDER MEAL (Passover). A three-hour ordeal that consists of reading Jewish scripture, tasting bitter herbs and symbolic foods, singing Hebrew songs, hide-and-seeking unleavened bread, and partaking of a scrumptious meal. A beautiful family ritual of remembrance, enjoyment, and fun.

*TOUR OF THE SEPARATION WALL. A little sensationalized, but pretty serious. Walls are never going to create peace in my opinion. Especially walls that divide families and keep Palestinians from important resources. Pictures pending.

*VISIT WITH A NEIGHBOR. My stay in Jerusalem is officially complete. I’ve had a cold drink with our neighbor down the street. The elderly gentleman gave us orange juice (“You Mormon, I know. No tea, no coffee.” For no proselyting in the region, they still manage to know an awful lot about us) and showed us pictures of his grandkids. He also talked politics, which was pretty thrilling to hear from someone who has lived through ’48 and ’67.

*FLIP-of-the-COIN DECISIONS. This week’s method of exploring the Old City was to flip a shekel at every fork in the road—left is heads, right is tails. We found some nice Muslim neighborhoods, a Pilgrim’s Home (what is that?), an ancient chapel, a pita factory, a women’s co-op, a ceramic shop, and a grocery store that I’ve never seen before. I tasted a Happy Hippo for the first time, and it is undoubtedly the best sweet I’ve discovered here.

*ISRAELI FOLK DANCING. Oh my goodness, please make this a regular part of BYU-Provo life! The steps are simple, the music is jiving, and the energy is high. I’ve got to get my hands on some dancing music.

*SHEPHELAH(pronounced “Sh-f-aylah,” means “low hills”). Fortress city ruins, the birthplace of Sampson, the valley where David slew Goliath, and giant Byzantine bell caves.

Making Peace

The kindergarten is the crowning jewel of Jerusalem's YMCA. It is comprised of Jewish, Arabic, and Christian kids. The children communicate in a mixture of their various languages, and they play as peacefull (or as naughtily) as all children do. When heads of state and diplomats visit the YMCA, this is the first thing that they are shown.

...

At the end of an hour-long lecture, a student asked forum speaker Bernard Sabella (member of Palistinian Parliament and Christian professor at Al Kudz University) what we could do to support Arab-Israeli peace. His response? "Be impartial, and recognize that the futures of both people are dependent on the other. Call for peace. Try to understand the pain of both sides. Maybe get Palestinians and Israelis to know each other better. Support peace and justice. Don't take sides."

...

"You've been here for four weeks now, and have you noticed how we're not in a war zone?," journalist Matthew Kalman pointed out. He's right. People here are just living. There are tussles I'm sure, and I realize that the situation in the region is of serious consequence, but there is a whole lot of peace, too. Kalman kept us in stitches telling stories about freckled terrorists singing Punjabi love songs and a man who went from checkpoint to checkpoint doing impersonations of political leaders. I love knowing that humor and comraderie are commonplace even when the papers paint ugly pictures.

...

Peace is possible.

Holy Envy

During my first few years of college, I started to worry about myself. Should a person feel so inspired and uplifted by Buddhist literature? Was I wrong to be enamored with other religions? Was it bad to wish that we had Sabbath day worship rituals like the Jews do? Could I entertain this sort of admiration for other religions while sticking to my own?

Oh yes. Oh, yes.

My Modern Near Eastern Culture professor took a most profound tangential turn from his lecture on Tuesday. In tactful response to an intent but egocentric (religiocentric?) question, "What disqualifies Jesus from being a Jewish Messiah?", he gave this list from Bishop Kristal Standoff. Here is the list, as taken from my class notes:

1. Compare equals. Don't compare the finer parts of yours to the weird of theirs.

2. Make room for "holy envy." You don't have a monopoly on everything that is good and holy and true.

3. Let the other speak for himself...recognize that the conceptual map that you frame of religion (based on your religion) is not the same as someone elses. (He said this because the Jewish concept of Messianism is not nearly as central to their framework as it is to ours.)

I believe that this "holy envy" is good. For me, it is a tool of the spirit. Don't think that I am being apologetic about my own religion. I am grateful to be a member of the restored Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints. I am thankful for a living prophet and the Book of Mormon and incredible doctrines about the family. But I value truth and goodness wherever it is found. I am happy to learn from believing people of many types. I realize that we all entertain inconsistencies, even in our finest and most favored frameworks. I have questions about my own religion, but I savor the things that I don't know because I trust in an eternity of learning. As Elder Christofferson says, "[I] do not know everything, but [I] know enough."

It's Not the Rocks

We joined a group of non-denominational pastors from Ohio for our Shabbat-morning visit to the Garden Tomb. Upon learning that we were Mormon, one of the pastors inquired, "So what do these sites mean to you?" It was a good question, and I wish that we could have told him more about what we believe.

Maybe the most appropriate response to his query is an echo of what our tour guide told us. In a lovely British accent, the elderly gentleman led us through the garden and explained the rational for selecting the quiet garden site outside Damascus gate as the likely Garden Tomb where the Savior was buried. At the end of his speech, he stressed that it's not the rocks that matter. "If these things bolster your faith and give you biblical context, then they are worthwhile," he said. "But what matters isn't the place. What matters is that He is risen."

That's how I feel about Jerusalem. Archaelogy is nice. The rocks are old. The ruins and maps and history lessons are intriguing. But what really matters is that He is risen.

Go'el

The most helpful tool that I have encountered for understanding the Old Testament is a basic overview of kinship structures and the Levirate law. I don't pretend to be an expert, but I would like to say a word about go'el because it helps me to understand the Atonement in a new light. (If you like what you hear, I recommend further research. Wikipedia and the Bible Dictionary are decent starting places).

From what I understand, the firstborn recieves a double portion of the family inheritance and also recieves a responsibility to care for the family in instances of widowhood or slavery. This near kinsman is referred to as "go'el" or "redeemer" because he has the right and responsibility to redeem his kin from situations in which they cannot free themselves. The Old Testament is replete with examples of go'el which foreshadow the coming of Jesus Christ, the Firstborn who inherits an equal portion with the Father, and who is our Redeemer.

If I am not incorrect, the principle of go'el should also prove to be enlightening when we read Isaiah's metaphors about Israel as a forsaken bride. In ancient Israel, widowhood was a socially devastating position. The place of women in society was such that widowhood rendered them helpless. Christ, our go'el, is help for the helpless. I am thankful.

Friday To-Do

Modern Near Eastern Studies ends at 2:50, and by 3:15 the fourth floor foyer is full of students bedecked with backpacks and waterbottles. Maps are strewn, lists of sites referred to, and groups are negotiated.

"Have you been to the Temple Mount yet?"

"I was thinking about the Church of the Holy Sepulchre."

"Anyone want crepes in West Jerusalem?"

This is how Friday evening in Jerusalem goes down.

Weekends in Provo will never be the same again.

Turkish Delight

Hagia Sophia

Although the squishy sugarry squares are admittedly tastey,Turkish Delights are not half so enchanting as the country whose name they bear.

For anyone who craves world travel, might I persuade you to move Turkey to the top of your list of wished-for destinations? Maybe it was a trick of the season--perhaps Turkey is not so charming in weeks other than the end of May. Maybe my tour guide cunningly led us through only the greenest fields, the tallest mountains, and the quaintest villages. Maybe there are fewer than hundreds of impressive ruins, or perhaps the mosques don't look so grand in the snow. Maybe the locals aren't all as kind and helpful as the ones I met. But from everything that I saw, heard, and tasted, Turkey is a delight!

We followed in the footsteps of the apostle Paul and John the Revelator, opening up the New Testament and sitting where Paul sat, singing where he was persecuted, and trying to make our hearts a little more like his. We could not preach of Christ boldly as he did (being contrained by Jerusalem Center agreements about proselyting), but we rejoiced in Christ, read of Christ, and enjoyed the creations that bear witness of Christ.

Topkapi (Sultan's Palace)

Turkey in a Week:

Monday - Istanbul: Blue Mosque, Sultan's Palace (Topkapi), open Bazaar, Bosporous Cruise, Underground Cistern, Dinner overlooking the Marmara Sea

Tuesday - Troas: Ruins of Troy (reading Iliad at the place where Heinrich Schleiman supposes it would have taken place), evening on the sea

Wednesday - Pergamam: Temple of Athena at Assos (darling village!), Trajan Temple Acropolis, Rug Factory (ridiculously expensive, but impressive), Asclepion, beachside hotel

Thursday - Ephesus and Miletus (refer to Ephesians and the books of Paul in the NT): Devotional at the Ephesus ruins (incredible!), Miletus ruins, evening at a hotsprings hotel, an unexpected 5.9 earthquake

Friday - Bursa and Pamukale: natural springs at Pamukale, early sacrament meeting in Bursa, open bazaar for Turkish delight

Saturday - Istanbul: Grand Mosque (the largest in Turkey), Nicea (!), Haggia Sophia, fish dinner

Temple of Athena Ruins

Old City Jerusalem

(Sorry this is a couple of days late! Blogger has been having some issues so I couldn't post Jen's last letter; but here it is now):

Dear blog,

Here's a little taste of Old City, Jerusalem. This is by no means representative of the varied experiences that exist for the intrepid traveler, but it brought a little smile to my lips this afternoon.

Given vague instructions to visit "the Tomb of the Kings" and not knowing what it was, our group of five students searched out a green door in East Jerusalem where we were supposed to knock loudly for entry. Speaking through an intercom, we indicated that we would like to come inside, and a female voice said that they were open. We knew that a fee was required, so we offered 5 shekels per person for entry. The woman quickly revoked the "open" status and announced that they were closed for the day. We upped the bid to ten shekels per person, and she retorted that now they were closed--forever. Not knowing what to do (but now thoroughly intrigued as to what lay behind this green door), we debated about putting on our best foreign accents and approaching the woman with a new strategem.

As we were preparing to bargain again with the mysterious voice behind the intercom, a bus pulled onto the sidewalk and scattered us from our places at the door. A man hopped out and unlocked the door, took our ten shekels, and left us without explanation.

Bemused but satisfied, we wandered around a stone courtyard with a few watery tombs. It was an anti-climatic find after our exciting entry process, so, feeling like we were missing something, we called our professor for further instructions. He told us to find a hole under some messy looking scaffolding, which we did. A crate was covering an opening in the ground, and he said that we were to remove the crate and climb inside. It all seemed a little shifty, but we did as we were told, and by the dim lights of our camera flashes and cell phones, we explored a few rooms in an incredibly creepy old underground tomb. I still have no idea what it was and we will have to go back again with flashlights and more shekels to discover the place further, but it cheered my day considerably.

Happy Wednesday. This is life in Jerusalem.

Love, Jenny :)

Interloping in Their Sacred Spaces

I lay my right palm on the stone wall for a quick moment before pulling it back. There are other women pushing to the wall on Friday evening to usher in Shabbat, and I don't want to be the insensitive tourist woman who keeps them from their sacred wall. The cracks are filled with folded slips of paper, prayers of centuries. Sections of the wall are worn and stained from human touch. It's obvious that the Western Wall is made sacred from human prayers and wishes.

But it is not quite my own sacred space, and that feels strange.

I wish, more than anything, that I wasn't wearing a purple shirt among the black-clad women. I wish that I spoke Hebrew and had a Psalm book in my hands. I wish that I had the sense not to turn my back to the wall, an oversight that I rectified when I noticed other women shuffling away from the wall backwards. I wish that I could interrupt the chanting to ask what they are saying and how they are feeling, and what exactly it means to them to sing and chant and rock back and forth, and to touch the wall.

Our instructors told us that it would be insensitive to refer to the wall as "the Wailing Wall," and I agree. It was, on whole, a place of celebration. Wailing is too woeful a word for what I heard at the Western Wall. The teenagers touched the wall and then moved toward the back of the crowd where they danced in circles and sang, holding hands and jumping up and down. Throngs of Israeli soldiers loudly chanted and laughed. Men and women gravitated to the wall, muttering prayers or hiding thoughtful secrets behind their silence. As tourists, we watched the people and touched the wall and wished that we could sing along. They didn't seem to mind, but it made me thoughtful. What is this thing called religion, that makes us willfully enter into rituals and celebrations that have no reward except communion with God and man?

Interloper I may be, but I am glad of it. I have my own sacred spaces, and I love them. I am glad that others have sacred spaces and rituals and beliefs. I am thankful to usher in Shabbat at the Western Wall in Jerusalem.

P.S. For anyone that is enamored by sociology, I kept thinking about Emile Durkheim and his "collective conscience," and I think it is no coincidence that he was of Jewish upbringing. The Western Wall was the best example of solidarity that I have ever witnessed.

Coursework

New Testament/Old Testament:

We start with Old Testament and work through New Testament, augmenting our studies with fieldtrips to relevant geographic sites (see Field Trip course below). I'm amazed that, as exotic and sacred as the Holy Land is, it is still the Spirit that endows my experience with meaning. I love being in the city and looking out on the scenery, but my best insights this week came when I was alone with the Book of Genesis, with the Holy Ghost as a guide. I'm thankful that when this experience is all over, I will still have the Spirit as my companion and teacher to help me feel close to God.

Ancient Near Eastern Studies:

With the illustrious archaeological scholar Professor Jeffrey Chadwick as our guide, we are pummelling through a rather intensive course about the region's archaeology, geography, and history. Our flamboyant professor is teeming over with facts about the Holy Land, and it is a treat to have him along on fieldtrips to spout wisdom about the places and practices that we see. As a sidenote, I noticed this evening that Professor Chadwick is friend to the scruffy local felines. He greeted one at dinner by "Nicole," which endeared me to him. Our largest assignment in his class is to visit dozens of sites within the city, ranging from the Temple Mount to the Holocaust museum to the open market for fresh falafel. It's definitely my favorite assignment, and it will take all semester to complete.

Modern Near Eastern Studies:

This course is designed to provide us with various viewpoints about the current issues of the Middle East, so we have a Jewish professor and a Palestinian professor, each presenting the modern regional history from their own perspective. Bashir Bashir, my Palestinian professor, was described to us as "a fiery young leftist," and I am not at all disappointed by his lectures. He is a political theorist, so our discussions have great theoretical undercurrents. Today we discussed how Palestine and nationalism are relatively new constructions, and what sort of ramifications this has for the identity of Palestinians and the region as a whole. Ophir Yarden, my Jewish professor, compliments the Arabic viewpoint with Hebrew history and current affairs.

Hebrew:

Shalom! Introductory Hebrew is very introductory, but that is precisely the level I need. Our instructor told us that Hebrew is an incredibly sensible language, (thanks to Ben Yehuda for renewing it) and I am delighted to find that she is correct! We learn several letters, a vowel, and a handful of phrases every day. We also sing Hebrew songs, talk about an item (like "show and tell"), and discuss the culture. We will be visiting Mt. Herzl and the Holocaust museum as part of the course.

Field Trip:

Our first fieldtrip was to five or six observatory sights throughout the area. The land is full of tels (hills) and wadis (valleys), so you can see a vast distance from any height. We learned to recognize the tribal lands of Ephraim (our homeland, as our professors tell us) and Benjamin, as well as the site of King Saul's palace, Gibeah (a number of battles occurred there), Bethlehem (we sang "Silent night" as we looked out over Bethlehem), Mount Moriah, etc, etc. Next week we are visiting Jericho and the surrounding areas. We also enjoy impressive weekly forums. This week we heard from Yigal Palmor, the spokesman for Israili foreign affairs. He was surprisingly personable and humorous (for a diplomat), and it was neat to hear the state of affairs from one who knows them well. It was, of course, a very one-sided take on the current Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and I look forward to hearing the opposing viewpoint in future forums.

Firsts

Hey friends, I finally heard from Jenny! Here's her first post--appropriately about firsts:

First time on a plane:
I was delighted to discover that my stomach is quite at ease at high elevations, and I was shocked at how comfortable the hard slab floor of JFK airport is. Of the eighty students in our group, the 16 of us who took Delta (now dubbed the "Sweet Sixteen") ended up getting delayed for over 24 hours in New York. We spent the night in a quiet(ish) gateway, and would you believe it, we are best friends now! The sixteen of us were very tired, very smelly, and very grateful to arrive after our 50-hour trip to Jerusalem.

First Old Jerusalem excursion:

The first time I went through the Old City, I was horrified. We were warned over and over about savvy pick-pockets, crazy drivers, and men who like to harass tourist women. I was too worried to appreciate the bustling streets, the exotic food vendors, the incredible architecture, and the varied locals. I visited the city again for the second time today, and I am entirely enamored. I exchanged my American money for shekels at Aladdin's Money Change (Aladdin is pronounced "Allah-Deen"), and then I set out with a couple of friends to buy shampoo and postcards. Getting lost in the gated portion of the Old City is a worthy way to spend the afternoon, if you ever get the chance. The vendors recognize students from BYU Jerusalem, and they call out to us, telling us that they like Mormons and that they will give us good prices. My favorite salesman today kept pulling me aside to show me wall hangings. He'd pull out his calculator and ask me which one I liked best, and how much I would pay for it, "because you are a nice lady, and I want you to have something." My spending sensibilities probably drove him crazy, because although he struck a good bargain, I insisted that I never buy on my first trip. I think we will probably go back and give him real business later.

First sacrament meeting in Jerusalem:
The back wall of the Jerusalem Center chapel is three floor-to-ceiling arched windows that overlook Old Jerusalem, and it is the most breathtaking view that I have ever beheld. I was overwhelmed on Shabbat to look out on the city and sing "The Spirit of God." How grateful I was, singing "God Loved Us, So He Sent His Son," to have the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. I am also grateful for a new call to serve as a primary teacher in the Jerusalem Center branch!

First stay at the Jerusalem Center:

Three favorite things: 1.The apartments in the Jerusalem Center are pods that branch out of an open-air enclosure, so outside of our bedroom/bathroom, we are always exposed to the sounds and smells of Jerusalem. 2. Virtually the entire north-western side of the Jerusalem Center is made of huge arched windows. The view of Old Jerusalem assaults you from any floor and almost any classroom. 3. The Oasis cafeteria is without a doubt the best food I have ever encountered. Our cooks are all local Palestinians, and we have hummus, pita, lamb, tuna, melons, grapefruit, figs, fresh vegetable dishes, soft mozzerellas, curries, and dozens of other new and delicious foods at every meal. It's a party in the mouth, three times daily.

Last Supper

Jessica here--U.S. correspondent and Jen's oldest sister. Most of these posts will be written by Jenny, e-mailed to me, and posted onto the blog, but she asked me to post some pictures from her "last supper." And since she can't e-mail pictures at the center, these could be the last Jenny pictures for a while, so soak up some of that Jenny sunshine while you can!

The day before she flew out to Tel Aviv, she and Mom attended a five hour meeting on campus with the group. They covered...well, everything! It was five hours, after all. Afterwards, they came over to our house and I had the privilege of cooking Jenny's "last meal" before she left on her adventure.

(Besides Ellie's adorable, cheesy pose, don't you totally love the "halo" above Jenny's head from the plant light? Appropriate, no?) I decided to go with a French dish, Lemon Roasted Chicken with Croutons. Seemed worthy of a last meal. Isn't it beautiful?

We had it with a green salad with a honey lemon dressing and garlic mashed potatoes:

We were going to make Elephant Ears (a French cookie made out of puff pastry) for dessert, but ran out of time because she still had a little bit of last minute shopping to squeeze in before her early morning. So Jenny, remind me when you get home that we have to make Elephant Ears!

Goodbye is always hard, but knowing where she's going and how excited she is makes it hard to be anything but excited for her! She should have made it to her destination yesterday, so hopefully we'll get to hear from her soon!

The Jerusalem Center

Brigham Young University's Jerusalem Center for Near Eastern Studies is located in East Jerusalem between Mount Scopus and the Mount of Olives. My group consists of 80 intrepid undergraduates students. We'll be taking a full load of coursework--Modern Near Eastern studies, Ancient Near Eastern studies, Old Testament, New Testament, beginning Hebrew/Arabic (I chose Hebrew because I heard rumors of a friendly instructor who loves to sing Hebrew hymns), and Fieldtrips (yes, that is the title of the course. I'm pretty sure I haven't been on a real fieldtrip since gradeschool, and I'm hopping with excitement!).
Just a few fun things about the Jerusalem Center:
*We celebrate Sabbath on Shabbat--that's Saturday. Sunday is our day off.
*We have weekend movie nights at the center. The premiering shows include Moses, Aladdin, and other American films set in the Middle East. Strange that we should watch American movies when we could walk outside and see the real deal, but I think I'm already a fan of this cheesy tradition.
*Tuesday-Friday are class days. Mondays are all-day fieldtrips to visit the sites that we've been learning about. Talk about integrative learning! :)
*Aside from our time at the Center, we will spend a week in Jordan, a week in Turkey, and a couple of weeks along the shore of the Sea of Galilea.
*The plane ride to Tel Aviv will be approximately 24 hours including layovers...a fine way to celebrate my first time on an airplane.
*Absolutely no proselyting at the center...but we'll try to keep the light in our eyes, as Elder Faust suggested.