Plain Brown Envelope

It is now 64 years since I opened the first important plain brown envelope addressed to me. I sat with some 100 others about to graduate as seniors from Concordia University, Chicago. We were assembled to receive our “assignments”. In that day church leaders decided where we would sere in our roles as Christian educators. Oh, we had been asked about where we might want to serve, but the decision was for others to make. When we entered that room we had no idea as to where we might be called. I sort of assumed it would be a church school in Texas because it was a strong tradition that Texans were assigned to teach in Lutheran schools of Texas.

I walked to the front of the room where Dr. Dan Maurer handed me my brown envelope. I rushed to my seat, tore open the envelope and saw the assignment: “Teacher and Principal; St. Paul Lutheran School, Tracy, California.” And within three months I was in the classroom of St. Paul’s, Tracy.

It was actually a good assignment. The school was at the forefront of dramatic changes within the Lutheran school system. I had known only the traditional parochial school that served only children of the sponsoring congregation. There was no tuition, all costs covered by the congregation. While that was my experience, Tracy introduced me to a body of students of many or no faith. Congregational financial support was minimal; school costs were raised through tuition and major fund raising efforts. I had to learn fast. Many helped teach me. They were patient, affirming, and supportive. It is an experience I recall with pleasure and gratitude.

The second plain brown envelope arrived via second-class mail on a Saturday morning in1956. I hardly noticed the envelope and didn’t open it for a few hours. I was too busy installing the antenna for our very first television set that had been given to us the night before.

When I looked at the return address on the envelope there was no big surprise. I received lots of mass mailings from The Lutheran Church_Missouri Synod Board for World Missions. But when I read the enclosed letter I was shocked to the core of my being. I was being asked to be Co-coordinator of Education for a Lutheran School System I was to establish in Hong Kong. I had never expressed an interest in “foreign” mission work. At that time I had no idea of where Hong Kong was even located.

A few months later my wife Jane, son Dave, and I were in Hong Kong where we spent 10 marvelous years. They were years of challenge and growth; years of mistakes and forgiveness; years which played a role in establishing a Hong Kong Lutheran School System which now enrolls some 25,000 students n 10 secondary schools, 6 primary schools and 12 kindergartens; all way beyond the dreams enclosed in that plain brown envelope.

Today I realized that in a way the plain brown envelope was more than paper. It was a challenge, a call and a commitment. I, too, am just a plain brown envelope which God used to accomplish a great purpose. One final reflection: On this Easter weekend I await one more destination for the plain brown envelope: the final call, and the best which is yet to come.

Holy Land Tour Part 6

(For the next several months this blog will contain memories, reports, journals of international tours I have led or workshops I have conducted. They will include The Holy Land, China, Finland et al. Each blog will contain a portion of the original reports.)

Memory Flashes 

High Lights

There were the moments when the stimuli of particular places produced an immediate reaction. Sometimes the reaction was fleeting. It came. It was there. It went. Yet, as I sit here now they once again invade my consciousness. Some Samples:

a. Walking down those layers of civilization at Meggido, each one thriving, fighting, dieing, and now silent as an archeological dig.

b. Masada, vacation and security of Herod, then place of resistance and death each and everyday of Jewish defenders. What if I had been among them? What if I had been the leader? Would I have made the same decision? Is there any circumstance under which I could kill my family to save it from greater torture?

c. The gardens of the Bahai shrine. How beautiful nature can be, all tended and nurtured and laid out with only one goal: to be beautiful. It stirred my memory of a book written 3 decades ago by a famous Biblical scholar, Jaroslav Pelikan in which he challenged me to answer the question: What is finally the true, the good and the beautiful?

d. The Mt. of the Beatitudes with Edie’s moving reading of those beatitudes. Blessed are the meek, the peacemakers… … and the quiet prayer, Lord let me claim those blessings.

e. Quaram, the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Museum of the Books. Centuries of written fragments miraculously confirm and then testify to the amazing accuracy of the Biblical texts over all these years. Can this all just be chance? What an amazing example of the providence of God.

f. Sitting near the Garden Tomb, listening to our evangelical guide, and then seeing The Place of the Skull. Maybe this is Golgotha.

g. I had never heard the theory of Jesus being kept in a “dungeon” after his Maundy Thursday arrest, his trial before Caiaphas - and awaiting the morning trial before Pontius Pilate. The site makes a pretty compelling case. Could it be? Yes, yet I doubt.

h. Just wondering. The security at Tel Avis as we left was tight. The questions I was asked were “no nonsense”. e.g. Did anyone join this group who had not been a member of your church as long as the rest? Why is she not with you now? Do you know where she is at this moment? Aha, so someone gave you a gift (a small oil lamp given to me by the shop owner in Bethlehem). And after all of this, and a thorough bag inspection, yet we were not asked to remove our shoes.

i. Just wondering: Did the Golden Tulip Hotel in Tiberius change its alcohol policy after we left - namely free beer, wine and Israel produced liquor (all included in the price of the room)?

Low Lights

I’ve listed some highlights, some highly inspirational moments. Naturally there were a few matters that did not make it to the top ten list:

1. The Blue Bay Hotel in Netanya and our first night check-in. We did not get off to a good start with accommodations. It was close to 7:00 p.m. when we arrived. We were told our rooms would be ready. They weren’t. We were told to go have dinner and then our rooms would be ready. We did. The rooms still weren’t ready. Finally, everyone had their keys, but no bellmen to take luggage to the assigned rooms. I hadn’t even gotten to our room before my roommate Ken came with the news, “Mel, did you know that we are sharing the same bed?” When I protested to the manager she was surprised at my displeasure. She said, “Sir, I gave you a nice room with a nice view!” When my protests continued she said, “Well, okay. I’ll send up a roll-away cot for you.” My protests continued. Eventually she assigned Ken and me a room way beyond the swimming pool which I had great difficulty finding in the dark - and to which a bellman did not want to accompany me.

Of course, by this time I learned that virtually every two-some of unrelated persons all had rooms with one double bed - and we never did get satisfaction.

The answer was the same, “You folks arrived on the Sabbath. Jewish people can’t drive until after sunset. They don’t check out until after sunset. You are unreasonable to expect rooms to be ready and all bed arrangements right. You should know better than to arrive on the Sabbath.”

I didn’t sleep all night, even called at 1:30 a.m. to complain about a malfunctioning air conditioning system. The same person who thought she had given us good rooms answered the phone. She was consistent. “Well, we certainly can’t do anything about that at 1:30 in the morning. You must have messed with the controls!”

The breakfast was wonderful. The next hotel had rooms ready for us but we didn’t really care because free beer, wine and Israel produced gin was just waiting for us, as was the $7.00 a bottle tonic. But we didn’t complain.

The wine and beer even flowed from the spigot into water glass-sized glasses. The Calvary group (including me) could handle that!

2. The food. I eat what is set before me. When I travel to a foreign country I don’t expect American menus. The meals by and large worked great for me. Yes, I had to turn my eyes away from most of the breakfast items at the Bethlehem Hotel. I regret that Bob and Judie got some salmonella and were really sick for a few days after their return. I learned that Ken has an amazing appetite and capacity for herring. In Jerusalem Olga Nawas brought me a dish filled with sweets. I said to her, “Wow!. Thanks! I’ll have a hard time finishing all this before we leave Israel.” She responded, “I brought it for your wife!”

3. Floating in the Dead Sea. Being afraid of water from my earliest years I am a very poor swimmer and an even worse floater. I imagined it would be great to calmly lie on my back and float serenely on the Dead Sea. Wrong! It was a slimey, dirty, slippery mess. I did’t have the courage and the patience of Suzanne to get beyond the waves near the shore. She had a great float. Ken and I hung on just to make it and were happy to get showered and back on the bus. So I never floated - in the Dead Sea - or anywhere else.

4. Biggest disappointment - and yet. I was not surprised and yet was somewhat saddened by the commercialization of all the sacred sites, from the Annunciation to the Ascension. The hubbub around the Holy Sepulcher was especially disturbing, making it almost impossible to be reverently respectful.

And yet, suppose no one ever came to the sites. Suppose nobody ever visited Nazareth, Bethlehem, the Mt. of Olives! Suppose the story of the life of Christ was a forgotten one. Suppose no one cared. That would be the bigger tragedy.

Holy Land Tour Part 5

(For the next several months this blog will contain memories, reports, journals of international tours I have led or workshops I have conducted. They will include The Holy Land, China, Finland et al. Each blog will contain a portion of the original reports.)

The Stole

In Jerusalem we moved slowly out of the place where Jesus faced his trial before Caiaphas, the high priest. Then we walked down into the dungeon where Jesus may have been held before being taken for his trial before Pontius Pilate.

I wandered into the nice adjoining gift shop run under the auspices of a group of catholic nuns.

Nancy Rinehart had a question, “Mel, we are thinking of buying a stole for Pr. Lubs. It could come from the group - about $3.00 from each of us. I immediately focused on the red festival stole with the beautiful Jerusalem cross embroidered in it. Nancy stood holding that and I went on my way.

During the following days I wondered when Nancy was going to ask each tour member for his or her 3 bucks. I thought about bringing it up, decided that maybe Nancy decided not to buy the stole after all. Besides, I’ve learned long ago that if Nancy has a need she’ll take care of it without any assistance from me.

Then came the meal at the Bethlehem Hotel when Al, on behalf of the group, presented me with that beautiful red stole with a gorgeous embroidered Jerusalem Cross.

I was/am deeply moved. This group had been great. The trip had been amazing. In the midst of it, my mind occasionally thought about my future. I have resigned from Wheat Ridge Ministries. I have terminated my service with the Center for Urban Education Ministries. My role at Calvary has steadily diminished. I’m ready to move to a Retirement Community. What does all this say abut my ministry?

I saw the stole as an affirmation of the past - and as a symbol of continued opportunity and call to be a minister to whomever God calls me.

Slight ecclesiastical hitch. My official ministry category in the ELCA has been a challenge for some. Without going into all the details - it has to do with what’s the appropriate ministerial status for me. Since I was originally commissioned in The Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod as a minister of the Gospel for the educational ministries of the church - and the ELCA does not have this category, what is the appropriate stole for me? Most would say it’s the red diaconal stole, worn over one shoulder, connected by a gold chain at the waist. But that was not the stole presented to me.

And so Step II happened. The bus driver, guide and group all readily agreed to return to the shop in Old Jerusalem. Gary went with me to the shop. The manager could not have been more helpful. She traded stoles and I now have the appropriate stole, from a very special place, given to me by a very special group of people. I cherish it deeply.

Holy Land Tour Part 4

(For the next several months this blog will contain memories,  reports, journals of international tours I have led or workshops I have conducted. They will include The Holy Land,  China, Finland et al. Each blog will contain a portion of the original reports.)

Holy Land Tour Part 4 

The Sea of Galilee

Now this was a surprise. We are all together in the boat. The Sea of Galilee is calm. We are about to leave the seashore at Tiberius. The boat crew hoists a flag: Old Glory. The recorded music blares out “The Star Spangled banner”. What can you say? I stood at attention, full of pride - and hopeful of peace

But the highlight came when we stopped in the middle of the Sea of Galilee. Ruth (as always - decked out in just the right attire) opened the Bible and with deep reverence and just the right intonation read the account of Jesus walking on the water and of Peter’s not completely successful effort to do the same.

My mind was flooded with reflections. Suppose it was I whom Jesus invited to take that walk. I decided Peter was a better man than I.

Outside Bethlehem

Angels We Have Heard On High

It was hard, very hard to really feel the presence of Christ or to recreate his walk along the Via de la Rosa - midst the shops, the noise and the solemn cross-bearing pilgrims. It got really tough to feel reverent at the Tomb of the Holy Sepulcher as warring denominations argue over who controls what portion of the floor, or door, or even tomb - while ornate brass lanterns give the whole scene and almost bazaar atmosphere.

But when we walked out of that cave on the hills of Bethlehem, when we sang, “Gloria in Excelsis”, I got it. I could see that angel and then the heavenly host. I could feel the rustle of angel wings. I could hear the announcement, I could get the impulse and say the words, “Come, let us go to Bethlehem to see this thing which the Lord has made known to us.” I was ready to go with haste - to the manger.

The Wailing Wall, The Holocaust, The Holocaust Children’s Museum

I combine these three for they all speak to me of a profound spiritual mystery: The Silence of God.

The Wailing Wall is a magnet. It draws to it Jewish people of all subgroups from the ultra-orthodox to the secular. It speaks of past glory, of great mourning for the temple which was destroyed, deep anger because of the Islamic Dome of the Rock now sitting above, of great hope for the restoration of hope for the ancient chosen people of God.

Access to the Wailing Wall, especially also for non-Jews, is not guaranteed. Some recent travelers had told me they had not been allowed to approach it. Issues regarding where non-Jews or inappropriately dressed people, or women kept surfacing.

So I was grateful when I knew we were going, men and women, just as long as men’s heads were covered and we stepped away from the wall before turning our backs to it.

 For obvious reasons security and access were carefully controlled. I fully understood why we went through the metal detectors, etc. The men and the women went to different sections, although we were in sight of each other.

I had expected more people, even though the entire area was crowded by an eclectic mass of people: Hassidic Jews, pilgrims from all over the world, Sri Lanka, Poland, Rwanda, Canada, Thailand, Russia and USA. About 20 feet from the wall scholars sat with their texts. Nearer the wall many bar mitzvahs were being celebrated by ecstatic young men with their fathers and male friends while mother and females “cheered them on” from beyond the barrier which separated men from women.

I wrote my simple prayer, approached the wall, placed my hands and head in reverent attention and placed my prayer between the cracks. I added a few more petitions, just reflected a few moments and then stepped back.

On one level it was only a ritual. On another level it was much more. (See below.)

I am glad we had time on our last day (and paid the extra $15.00 fee) to go to the Holocaust Museum. Nothing really new there. We all know the tragic history so well. But the presentation was so exquisitely well done, just the right tone, the architecture moving us along from the early stirrings of German patriotism to extreme nationalism, super-race belief, blind followers of clever politicians. Then came the prejudices, the faultfinding, the exclusion of “the other” and on to  (as we all know - and so movingly narrated by survivors) the pogroms, the Star of David, the trip to the concentration camps, to the ovens.

Who can possibly have this experience without deep moments of reflection, repentance, and resolution! And the realization that instead of “Never Again” we humans repeat the tragedy again and again: Mao Tze Tung, Cambodia, Rwanda, Darfur, Myanmar.

The Holocaust Children’s Museum overwhelms with its stark simplicity. Almost total darkness. Just illuminated with candles, one for each child victim. And a reading of the names and ages of the killed children, solemnly and slowly read - one, by one, by one...

In it all I experience the Silence of God. Where is God when the temple is destroyed and mad men throw children into ovens? My heart screams, “My God, my God, why has Thou forsaken us?” It is in these often deep periods of reflection that I find God; and God is not absent, but just beside me, and then I notice that God too is weeping. God’s tears mingle with mine and the many. God made the decision way before time began to give to human beings freedom of the will. They were not to be automats programmed to do only good. God gave us choice. So often we have chosen very, very poorly - and God weeps.

And sends a Redeemer to forgive, to point to better possibilities, to kindle more pious plans, to relight the candle of hope in the darkness - and finally, the darkness does not overcome it.

Holy LandTour, Part 3: Christmas Lutheran Church

     

(For the next several months this blog will contain memories,  reports, journals of international tours I have led or workshops I have conducted. They will include The Holy Land,  China, Finland et al. Each blog will contain a portion of the original reports.)

It had been very difficult to convince our tour company, NAWAS to include Bethlehem on our tour. There were issues: security, no four star hotel in Bethlehem, the Nawas family is Lebanese and

Lebanon/Israel relations are strained. Yet, I insisted we go to Bethlehem or we don’t do this tour.

Bethlehem was included.

My work with Wheat Ridge Ministries called upon me to assist in supporting Lutheran work in

Bethlehem. Wheat Ridge funded the Wellness center there. Wheat Ridge friends helped build the

school. Wheat Ridge helped establish a Parish Nurse program and sponsored short mission trips

for doctors, audiologists, nurses who donate their time for brief periods of time there.

So we visited. We listened to Pastor Mitre who tries to keep hope alive in a place where hope

is a rare commodity. And we worshipped on Sunday at Christmas Lutheran Church.

We had agreed (or more accurately, I had decided) to have our group sing a special

number during the service. I decided it should be Stan’s version of The Lord’s Prayer. We

rehearsed it (especially on the bus). I loved it and so did others. However, others with better

musical ears than mine came to me and said, “Mel, this is not working. Listening to our botched

up harmony does not make it easy to feel like a prayer. We must go to Plan B.” Plan B was to

sing “Alleluia”. Great song. I didn’t think it fit. I felt it kind of went on without an ending. I

made an executive decision. We will sing that old Lutheran favorite “Beautiful Savior.”

Problem: We didn’t have the music for that with us. Through Barbara I e-mailed Jane to fax it to

both our hotels in Jerusalem and in Bethlehem. She tried. Both hotels had their faxes turned off.

But we got just the right arrangement when we visited Bethlehem ministries on Saturday, 33

copies clearly copied.

Sunday morning found us at church 30 minutes ahead of time (a minor miracle for folks

from Calvary) but in time with that specific request from Pr. Mitre. As we entered the beautiful

chapel with its exquisite stained glass windows we were met by a large group of white people,

certainly not the Arab members of the congregation. It turned out to be a big brass band from

Germany. They had come to support the Lutheran ministry in Bethlehem, had a benefit concert,

taught children in the Lutheran school there how to play some band instruments and donated instruments. They were led by a gentle, tall Lutheran pastor. Now we needed to negotiate how their playing and our singing would work together to enrich the worship. Surprisingly, my German was better than the director’s English. Beautiful Savior is well known in Germany by its German name, “Schoenster Herr Jesu”. The band director thought we wanted her to accompany our group. Not a good idea. When I mentioned our hymn choice to Pr. Mitre he said, “Wonderful. This is a favorite hymn of

my congregation. Why don’t you folks sing the first 3 verses and the congregation and the organ

will join in on verse 4.” We did that. It was stirring: “Beautiful Savior, Lord of the Nations.”

I was also glad that we had dropped singing “The Lord’s Prayer “ when Pr. Mitre said,

“We do the same thing every Sunday. When we pray “The Lord’s Prayer” during the service I

ask each person to pray it in the language of their choice. It was powerful, Arabic, German,

Swedish, Norwegian, English. (I chose Cantonese.) God sorted it all out.

Another decision had to be made. Pr. Mitre had asked for someone from our group to

read the Epistle lesson for the day. Of course, many wanted to do that. Several volunteered. I

chose to offend them all and made the decision that I would read the lesson. And what a lesson it

was to hear God’s call for justice, peace and consideration for the poor. Once again, the right

word of God for exactly that time and place.

Two disappointments: The sermon was, of course, in Arabic. Pr. Mitre chose to not give

a brief summary in English. I learned later that Pr. Mitre struggles on Sunday in finding a

balance between being the pastor for the members of his flock, and also paying adequate

attention to the needs of guests.

The second disappointment: The church was built by German Lutherans more than 100

years ago. The stained glass windows all depict the life and ministry of Jesus in and near

Bethlehem. Stunningly beautiful! My disappointment: The Bible verse accompanying each

window was there in German. I wish it had been in an Arab language. To compensate, upon the

100th anniversary of the church, the congregation had the words of the Gloria in Excelsis done in

beautiful Arabic script around the dome.

The conversations after the service were an important part of the experience. Once again

the tour members were wonderful as all of us met the Arab members, some ELCA youth

volunteers from America and guests from Norway and Germany. My conversation with one of

the members was sobering. He explained the great difficulty he has getting around the “security

walls” to land which has been in his family for generations. He said to me, “I must get there. I

must continue to plant olive trees there. If I fail to go, if I fail to plant, my family’s ancestral

lands will immediately be ‘appropriated’. So I go. I plant with my bare hands. I have planted 400

olive trees.”

“Mitre, how do you feel about the future?” “Not hopeful”, he said. “I see almost no signs

of us moving toward a peaceful solution.” “Yet”, he said, “we must keep hope alive.” As Martin

Luther said, “Even if I knew I would die tomorrow, today I must still plant an olive tree.”

(Luther, of course, had said, “plant my apple tree” but in Bethlehem the apple tree became an

olive tree.) I heard that and tried to keep my teardrops from becoming too obvious.

Holy Land Tour Part 2

(For the next several months this blog will contain memories,  reports, journals of international tours I have led or workshops I have conducted. They will include The Holy Land,  China, Finland et al. Each blog will contain a portion of the original reports.)

Holy Land Tour– Sea of Galilee (2008)

We had come down from the mountain where Jesus preached, “The Sermon”. We had visited the home of Peter’s mother-in-law and the synagogue next to it. Now we were on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. It was the place where Jesus appeared to the disciples after his resurrection. It was the place where Jesus restored his apostolic call to a Peter who had thrice denied him. I liked the metal sculpture depicting Jesus restoring Peter. It felt right to look at the large stone formation running from the church to the shore of Galilee.

I made a decision. I would walk to the seashore. I would take off my shoes and socks and stand in the shallows. Then I would hear the voice of Jesus,

“Melvin, do you love me?”

“Yes, Lord, you know I love you.”

“Then feed my sheep.

Melvin, do you love me?”

“Yes, Lord, you know I love you.”

“Then feed my lambs.”

“Melvin, do you love me?”

“Yes, Lord, I love you.”

“Then feed my sheep.”

My mind went back 58 years and 10 days. That was the date the bishop’s representative ad St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, Tracy, California, commissioned me to serve as an officially rostered teaching minister in the Lutheran church. The text was the one above, the call to Peter.

And what a ministry it has been! (But that’s a topic for a different set of reflections.)

Holy Land Tour –Cana (2008)

It was startling! As we got off the bus to walk to the place remembered as the site of the first miracle of Jesus, I nearly walked into a huge banner hanging next to the street. I don’t remember the exact words, but the impact was there. It was something like, “Remember there is only one God, Allah, and his prophet is Mohammed.”

I refocused as we all entered a room reportedly the site of Jesus’ first miracle. We saw an excellent sample of a clay water pot capable, according to the King James version of the Bible, of holding 30 firkins of water. The first miracle!

Then we went to the chapel which Anes, our Guide, had reserved for our Sunday worship service. (A major accomplishment, as couples reserve this chapel for their wedding at all hours of the day with reservations required months in advance.) We had just come from Nazareth so we began our service with Julie doing her usual amazing and stirring introduction to the Annunciation as sung in Holden evening Vespers. “An angel sent by God, to a town called Nazareth, to a woman whose name was Mary…” And we responded with Mary’s Magnificat.

I very intentionally asked 92 year old Gerry Hendrickson to read the lesson for the day, the account of the first miracle. I wanted Gerry to read this because he was the first president of Calvary Lutheran Church. Just like Jesus began his ministry of miracles, Gerry has led and been faithful at Calvary, a congregation alive and active because of God’s continuing miracles.

We prayed very purposely at this wedding site where Jesus was present. First, I asked each of us to recall one marriage for which we especially thanked God (our own, our parents, some friends…) Each in their own way thanked God. I thanked God for Jane and our marriage of more than 57 years.

Then I asked each of us to pray for a marriage that is facing special challenges and threats. I had promised one particular Calvary couple that I would do this and I was pleased to keep this promise.

Our third prayer was for God to find a partner for someone currently unmarried but having a desire for marriage. I imagine some prayed for themselves or for a friend. I prayed for the one member of my family who is not married but would like to be. I continue to ask God to hear that prayer.

I closed with the thought, “God still changes water into wine.” There are times in our life when we run out of wine. All we have left is simple H²O. We turn that over to God and the first miracle is repeated: God once again changes the water into wine!

Tour of Israel, Palestine (Holy Land) 2008 Part 1

It has been some months since I last posted. For the next several months this Blog will contain memories, reports, journals of international tours I have led or workshops I have conducted. They will include the Holy Land, China Finland etc. Each blog will contain a portion of the entire reports.

HOLY LAND TOUR

Sept. 1-30, 2008

Introduction: Why Lead a Tour to The Holy Land

“No more tours!” I said it and I meant it. My participation in leading four trips to China,

one to the Footsteps of St. Paul, one to Lutherland and the Danube and one to Brazil had all been

memorable, educational and inspirational. But now I was 80 years old and it was time to quit.

“One more tour- to the Holy Land!” I announced. Why? The ageing process affords the

opportunity to reflect upon missed (or yet available) new experiences. As Jane and I together,

once again read through the four Gospels, I thought, “I’d like to walk where Jesus walked. I’d

like to sit in places where Jesus taught. Maybe I should go there - with a group.”

There was a second motive. I wanted to go to Bethlehem. In my work for Wheat Ridge

Ministries I learned more and more about the situation in Bethlehem. I listened to and was

inspired by Pastor Mitre Raheb who heads up Lutheran work in Bethlehem. I looked at pictures

of Arab kids (Christians and Muslims) studying together in our Lutheran School there. These

kids drew me to Bethlehem.

Of course there were concerns. Do I still have the physical and mental stamina to be a

group leader? Is it safe? I felt a very heavy responsibility for the security, especially also because

all in my tour group are key members of Calvary. I dare not irresponsibly lead them into harm’s

way… Support from Jane is always essential. Of course, I had no way of knowing that two

weeks before our departure she would have full hip replacement. Typically, Jane kept her

reservations about my trip to herself and supported my dream. Our kids, as is also typical of

them, were supportive with Peg coming from New Hampshire and Lyzse from Connecticut,

Dave, newly arrived in San Diego, Tim from the Bay area and John providing almost daily

contact via computer Skype conversations from Taiwan.

Then there were marvelous co-hosts: Bill and Marian Duncan. Bill handled the finances

and paper work and Marian the interpersonal stuff.

Once again absolute unconditional support came from the tour members. As anticipated,

they were responsive and wonderful. In spite of significant difference of opinions re the Middle

East political issues and the US role in them, the members remained more than civil. They could

not have been more cooperative, loving and understanding.

And so we went. We traveled safely. We ate (or just looked at) the food provided. We

found a land that instead of floating with milk and honey, flowed with wine (and cola for Al!).

I’ve said that in a way the trip was more informational than inspirational - as

commercialism and conflicting church claims at many of the Holy sites tended to remove the

aura of holiness. Yet I gained not only new information, but also moments of deep inspiration. In

the following sections I share special moments of inspiration and moments for which that

adjective does not apply.

1. Gethsemane

The Garden of Gethsemane was a highlight, a place of deep reflection and spiritual

awakening. As we drove across the Brook Kidron my anticipation heightened. The chapel in the

Garden was quietly affecting my mood. Then we entered the Garden. I looked for and found the

oldest of the olive trees, gnarled, ancient, sturdy, still bearing fruit. Some, I believe have been

there since the days our Lord went to pray among them.

We found a quiet spot where all who chose could sit.

We sang,

“Go to dark Gethsemane,

Ye who feel the tempter's power.

Your Redeemer's conflict see.

Watch with Him one bitter hour.

Turn not from His griefs away.

Learn of Jesus Christ to pray.”

Judy read reverently and movingly the account of the agony and prayer of our

Lord under those old olive trees, and of the sleepy eyes of the disciples which just kept being

closed in sleep.

For us gathered there the climax came in the Holy Communion. We had previously been

in Cana where Jesus turned water into wine. I had secured wine from Cana. The previous day we

had been in Bethlehem. There I had secured individual communion cups, chalice shaped, made

of olive wood. The bread was a full loaf baked in Jerusalem. As Christ invited, we did this to

remember Him and in that moment, He too, remembered this little band of 33 from a church

named Calvary!

Addendum: We lingered in the Garden. We had our group picture taken there. We went

to the edge of the Garden. We looked over the burial tombs of centuries of Jewish brothers and

sisters. We looked across the Brook Kidron to the upper room, to the home of Caiaphas the high

priest, to the city of Jerusalem.

And I recalled Jesus sitting there. Sitting there and weeping over Jerusalem. He wept, He

said, because Jerusalem had not been able to secure the peace God intended for that place.

Now 2000 years later I felt Jesus sitting next to me. Again He weeps. Not yet has peace

come to Jerusalem, nor to so many other major cities of the world. I felt the tears of Jesus mingle

with mine.