... a word from Jerusalem

We played at Ceasarea Maritima, near the Roman aquaduct that carried water 9 miles from the foot of Mt. Carmel

We stood on top of Mt. Arbel, overlooking the Galilean cost where Jesus did most of his ministry.

We washed in the springs near Primacy of Peter, which is where first Century peoples would have stopped to refresh themselves, too.

We got our pictures taken at Mt. of Beatitudes, where Jesus expounded his famous Sermon on the Mount--except he was down near the sea.

We walked along the trail Jesus and his friends may have traveled many times.

And we came to Jerusalem, the center of the world, to pilgrimage toward God.

As we continue our journey in the Holy Land, I am continually struck by the fact that human beings often treat God as our plaything rather than taking seriously the words and promises God has gifted us with. We find it necessary to direct our prayers to God, that God might fix our problems, rather than tuning our hearts and minds toward the man from Galilee who would say to us, "blessed are the peacemakers," and "God does not kill."

The Church of the Holy Sepulcre is controlled by no less than 6 denominational groups of Christians, each vying for their own space in what might otherwise be a sacred space. It should be enough that Jews, Muslims and Christians can't get along with one another, we dont need a house divided among the Christians alone.

The wounds of this region of the world run deep, perhaps like the wounds my Jesus endured while he was here. Not that my story would become his story, but that my story should carry his in such a way that all the world can see it. It's not that I have walked where Jesus walked; it's can I walk like Jesus walked--not in terms of location, but in the orientation of my heart.

I come away from this experience renewed in my determination to try. No one is perfect but God. I don't aim to be perfect; I do aim to be faithful to the one who has sent me on his behalf.

Shalom,

David Stipp-Bethune

writing from Jerusalem