Horse Races, Gladitorial Fights, and More

During our trip to Jordan, we took a day trip up to Jerash, one of the largest, best preserved Roman ruins outside of Italy. After paying the park fee and weaving your way through the many merchants taking advantage of constant flow of tourists (once again, look but don't look like you're looking!), you step out into the bright sunlight and back in time 2000 years to the huge stone arches and colonnades of one of the cities of the Decapolis. The first structure you walk into is the Hippodrome, a massive, partially restored arena that was once able to seat 15,000 spectators. The horse and chariot races, gladiator fights, and sporting events that Middle Easterners watched in the 1st-3rd centuries AD are reenacted for tourists today. Unfortunately, we visited on a day when the show was closed. Instead of a show we got a tour by a ten year old boy named Mohammad who was selling postcards. He rattled off memorized information in English about the Hippodrome, what it use to look like, where the officials seats were located, the important people who had built and visited it, etc. Not only did he do a great job with the information, but he also added to the tour by taking us down to the stables to see the horses. They were beautiful Arabian horses, some light and some dark, and even a couple that were pregnant. It would have been spectacular to see them race in the reenactment, but I have no doubt that they were enjoying their day off. After showing us around the Hippodrome and the stables, Mohammad returned to selling postcards to the other tourists, and we continued our tour alone.

Trinity Family in the Middle East

I never thought that the Middle East would be where I would have a chance to meet up with Jerry and Jane Bridges, but that is exactly what happened. Upon realizing that we would both be travelling to the same country at the same time, we began emailing in order to figure out a time and a place to meet. Even though the Bridges don't live in Oregon, we would all agree that they are a part of our Trinity/Hillcrest family, so seeing them would be like seeing someone from home. Praise the Lord, we were able to meet for dinner the Monday night of our trip and had a wonderful time of fellowship. As they were leaving, I overheard Jerry Bridges telling Darren, "JoAnna's church family is very special to us. They are very dear people." I have to say, I agree with him 100%.

The Church of the Holy Sepluchre

"One expects the central shrine of Christendom to stand out in majestic isolation, but anonymous buildings cling to it like barnacles. One looks for luminous light, but it is dark and cramped. One hopes for peace, but the ear is assailed by a cacophony of warring chants. One desires holiness, only to encounter a jealous possessiveness: the six groups of occupants - Latin Catholics, Greek Orthodox, Armenians, Syrians, Copts, Ethiopians - watch one another suspiciously for any infringement of rights. The frailty of humanity is nowhere more apparent than here; it epitomizes the human condition. The empty who come to be filled will leave desolate; those who permit the church to question them may begin to understand why hundreds of thousands thought it worthwhile to risk death or slavery in order to pray here." (The Holy Land, Jerome Murphy-O'Conner, OP, p45)

The Church of the Holy sepulcher is built over the place where, very likely, Christ was crucified and buried. Emperor Constantine was the first to build a church on the location to commemorate Christ's death, burial, and resurrection. Since Constantine's building and dedication, the church has been in a fluctuating state of disrepair. Today the church is better funded and so can be kept in good condition. The interior is cool and dark with many candles and lanterns of smoking incense. Beautiful chapels and domed, painted ceilings share the interior, each one belonging to a different church group.

The rock tomb of Christ is ornately built like a small church or chapel with hanging candles lighting the interior. You first enter the dim anteroom before ducking through a low stone opening into the room containing the stone slab on which Christ was believed to have been lain. The rock slab is all that remains of the tomb because in 1009, Fatimid caliph Hakim's wrecking crews attacked the rock tomb with picks and hammers until only debris covered what remained.

The stone walls on the staircases and lower chapels bear the marks of those who fought to possess them. Crosses, etched by the swords that battled to free the city from the 'infidels', crowd in to decorate the walls. "This was the church to which the Crusaders came with tears of piety to sing their Te Deum after capturing the city on 15 July 1099."(p50) I'm sure there were may pious and sincere believers who fought to free the earthyly Jerusalem, but there were also many others who used God's name and the sign of His greatest act of love to gain power for themselves and to weild that power cruelly and unjustly. When I stop and consider my motives, I can see many actions that were done in the name or appearance of righteousness while the hidden motives were purely self-serving. How amazing that God would entrust His name and His message of love to such weak creatures! "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." (II Cor 4:7) To Him belongs all the glory. Amen!

One aspect that I love about being in a Hebrew speaking country is studying the Bible in Hebrew, for it is then that you can notice many nuances in the OT texts that are lost in our English translations. At the Thursday night Bible study, Pastor Baruch has been teaching through the book of Judges. Chapters 17-18 tell the story of Micah, his idols, his priest, and his holy place. By way of introduction, Baruch explained how the stories of the judges are not all arranged chronologically but in some cases overlap or happen earlier that we realize. There is a phrase in Judges 18:30 that dates this story, he said, and shows that it took place soon after the death of Joshua and his ruling elders.

Verse 30 of chapter 18 gives a chronology of this traveling Levite who willingly accepts Micah's offer to become his paid priest. In English, it reads, "Jonathan, the son of Gershom, the son of Manasseh." Clear enough, right? However, in the Hebrew text, an unusual format in the word Manasseh catches your eye. The Hebrew letter nun, which makes the "n" sound in Manasseh, is perched above the other letters in the word, like an exponent perched above its number base in a mathematical equation. Why doesn't this letter have the same orientation as the other letters in the word? It is because it was added later and is not a part of the original word. If the nun is removed, the name returns to its original form: Moshe, Hebrew for Moses. Moses' son was named Gershom (Ex 2:22), and Gershom was this man's father. Jonathan, the Levite for hire, was Moses' grandson.

Why then was the nun added? The rabbinical Jews and their scribes so revered Moses that they were ashamed that such a close relative would serve so unfaithfully in such a holy exclusive office. However, God clearly warns against anyone adding to or taking away from His word. So, they compromised, hanging the nun above, not in, the word in order to obscure the direct relationship to Moses. It's easy to so revere and honor a man or woman of God that we place them on so high a pedestal that so sin can reach them - whether it be their own or that of someone close to them. God never does that in the Bible, but He shows man exactly as he is. Apart from God, we can do nothing, but in Christ, we have the power of the Holy Spirit and all spiritual blessings in heavenly places. I'm so thankful that we don't have to be perfect to be men and women after God's own heart!

Locked Out

This weekend, I stayed at Annmarie's house, the wife of the Airforce attache. Matt was in the states for his grandpa's funeral so we kept each other company and hung out all weekend. We decided to be productive Sunday afternoon and put together the big gas grill they had bought. Excited to do it and surprise Matt, we gathered our tools and headed outside, closing the sliding glass door shut behind us. Careful not to lose any parts or pieces, we unpacked the box and spread the contents out on the patio. Annmarie realized partway through construction that we needed a hammer and so she headed to the door to get it.
"There's no door handle on the outside of this door," she remarked, pushing at the glass and trying to slide it back. The door wouldn't budge and it wasn't because of the lack of a handle. To ensure extra security, the door locks as soon as it clicks shut. That extra security had just locked us out.
"Is the front door locked?" I asked, already knowing the answer. A crime wave of robberies through the area had made everyone more cautious about locking their doors, even when they were home.
"This house is like a fortress," she said, laughing at our predicament. "Only Tina has a key, and it would take her a good hour to get here."
"Well, if it comes to that, at least we have something to keep us busy."
Tina's number was in Annmarie's cell phone which was, of course, inside, so we decided to walk to a friend's house just down the road and see if we could get the number through her. So we headed out the gate and down the road, Annmarie in her slippers and me in my bare feet. As it turned out, we were welcomed warmly and sympathetically, finding not only the right numbers but also the trick to unlock to door by pushing right by the lock and then sliding it back. Determined to try it, we padded back home, careful to avoid the dirty or sticky piles in the road. Sure enough, it worked! With an triumphant high five, we slid the door back, happy to avoid having to call someone to come rescue us.
The constructed grill looks nice, too!

The Western Wall



In AD70, Roman soldiers destroyed Jerusalem and the temple, ending the sacrificial system that had been practiced since the Passover and the Law. Unable to offer that 'sweet savor' that rises from the altar to heaven, orthodox Jews have replaced the animal sacrifices with prayers that they offer throughout the day. The Western Wall is the quintessence of their substitute system of prayerful offerings. Scraps of paper with scribbled prayers and requests are crammed in the stone cracks, crowding in to be answered. This wall is sacred to the Jews because it is what remains of the retaining wall built by Herod the Great in 20 BC to support the esplanade of the Temple. “For centuries, this section was called the wailing Wall; Jews from the adjoining Jewish Quarter came there to pray and to lament the destruction of the Temple. Houses came to within 4m of the wall, but after 1967, they, and a number of mosques, were razed to create the present plaza and the name was changed to something less evocative of a sad past.” (The Holy Land, Jerome Murphy-O’Conner, p97).

You have to go through security inorder to get up to the Western Wall. They not only check that you don't have any weapons but also that your arms and legs are modestly covered. The courtyard right in front of the wall is divided into a men and a women's side, with all visitors separating to go to one side or the other. When they are finished praying, the Jews walk backward so as not to turn their back on the wall as a sign of irreverance or disrespect. Once they are far enough away, they then turn and leave.

A World of Alleyways

The old city is a world of stone alleyways. We followed the outer wall until a flight of stairs broke through, leading us through it’s passageway into the inner city maze. While open and spacious in some areas, many of the market place and side streets are narrow and enclosed. High walls of shops and houses rise up on either side of cobblestone passages and stairs, seeming to almost push them into the ground. It is a beautiful, isolated area fostering a unique way of life. The houses, shops, and mosques crowd the streets while you try to avoid pedestrians and the shopkeepers who encourage you to come into their stores. While fascinating, I’m glad that my visit to this part of the city was only temporary because it made me claustrophobic. Maybe it’s because I grew up in the West and am use to wide open spaces, but I don’t think I could live in such a walled in environment.
In some places, a narrow window of blue sky and sun-filled valley opens up before you, but in other places, you felt encapsulated in stone with shop awnings even closing out the sky. Besides, it’s hard for a girl to function in a shopping environment where you can’t admire the items laid out before you. If you want to look, you have to look like you're not looking. We were placed under strict orders (by a guy who had no idea how hard it was to obey!) not to openly admire anything because the shop owner would jump on any sign of admiration and barter with you until you left with some item from his shop. It’s a rough life!

Our trip into the old city of Jerusalem began at the outer wall just south of the Jaffa Gate. The grassy field in front of the wall is full of picnickers on the Sabbath, but this Sunday, it was empty of anyone but us. The lowest layers of stone have a smooth margin on all sides, marking them as Herod’s wall built before the turn of the century. Twenty feet at most remain of this wall and those remains serve as the foundation for the Turkish wall and towers that were built 16 centuries later. Businesses and neighborhoods now cover the hills that swarmed with Roman legions in 70AD. The crumbled wall through which the Romans entered still juts up through the grass. The tranquil field and trees that now surround the rubble belie the terror and violence that broke through with the soldiers. What horrible stories of destruction and judgment those inanimate stones could tell if they were able.