A few days with my forebears in faith

Over the past few days I have been trying to become better acquainted with the different ‘quarters’ of the 'Old City' of Jerusalem. Yesterday and today it has been the turn of the Jewish Quarter. It is not a part of the Old City that I know very well, and thus it is a place that I have always felt that I needed to be more careful in – specifically with regard to my attire and behaviour. I have also been careful as to when I have visited – ensuring it is not the Sabbath, for example. I think, on reflection, it is about my seeking to be courteous and polite. It is true that there is a particular part of the Jewish Quarter that is home to more Orthodox and Conservative Jews, and the Guidebooks recommend that this is certainly not an area to drift into in a car when it is the Sabbath as you are likely to get stones thrown at your vehicle. As I have walked around over the past few days though, it is possible to see where to be or not to be – just as it was in the Muslim Quarter (ie anywhere near an entrance to the Temple Mount that was not the official entrance during the official hours available to non-Muslims for visits).

I have visited six particular sites over the past two days: the Jerusalem Archaeological Park & Davidson Centre, the Hurva Synagogue, the ‘Alone on the Wall’ Exhibition, the Burnt House, the Herodian Quarter/WohlArchaeological Museum and the Western Wall Tunnels. In visiting each of them, I have journeyed through the history of this city and the people who have lived here – with particular reference to the Jewish people.

The Jerusalem Archaeological Park & Davidson Centre abut the Temple Mount and Western Wall – quite literally. I can quite understand why the Muslim authorities are so sensitive to the excavation work that is going on as it right against the foundations of the Temple Mount. Regardless of who one thinks should have ownership of the Mount, the work that is going on will mean that one group will feel either that the other is seeking to interfere with what is rightfully theirs or impede access to what is rightfully theirs. The work that is going on at the base of the Mount (hidden underground and away from sight, it is true) presents in microcosm the very problems that are at the root of the underlying anxiety that rests in the air of the City of Jerusalem: ‘You have what is mine and I want it back’ vs ‘You want what is mine and I am not going to let you have it’. I believe these statements, although quite simplistic, are at the heart of the conflict between Jew and Muslim. It’s not just about the Temple Mount – it is about the whole of this land. Christians don’t even begin to have look in with regard to the dispute over ‘land rights’ – they are a faith group that is diminished by both authorities in the land (and in the city in particular) and many Christians have left Palestine and Israel because it is such a difficult place to be.

The Archaeological Park is a site in the open air, and one wanders around the stones realising that some of them are almost two thousand years old. Some parts have been uncovered for some time and, with their uncovering, new insights have been gleaned into the way in which the Temples of our Jewish ancestors (First and Second Temple periods) were built, decorated, used and revered.

Some of the stones are massive – seriously massive. Imagining how they were quarried, and then brought to the top of this mountain – and how long this took, with building and decorating added on is seriously mind-boggling. Just walking around this place, knowing that my forebears in faith walked in this place too, I find really moving(Jews as forebears of Christians). They came to worship in this place, just as I travel to worship in my church or in a church here in Jerusalem. Worshipping God is important to me, therefore I make an effort, I put time aside, I find others with whom to share the space and time so that we are a community and household of faith together.

In the Burnt House and Herodian Quarter, the visitor is transported back in time to the time of the destruction of the Second Temple – 70AD (or CE if one is using current time denotors). The charred remains of homes are visible, indicating the torching of the city, and in the Burnt House, the remains of a severed arm were discovered during the excavations of the area carried out in the years just after the Six Day War of 1967. Underneath the ground of the area surrounding the Hurva Synagogue (itself a building rebuilt twice), excavations during this period revealed many homes and gave up stories to connect us in our present day to the days of those in times past.

Stone vessels indicate that one of the homes belonged to a family who took ritual cleanliness seriously. Not for them clay or wooden vessels that could be tainted, rather, for their household the vessels must be of stone that could not be tainted in any way.

In another house, the remains of perfume bottles were found, with pessel and mortar for crushing the ingredients that would be used to release the scents. Glass objects, sealed underground for two thousand years, revealed following only after a period of intense bombing, a period that led the Jewish Community here to ask how its past could be honoured, whilst its future be developed (and ensured). These two places in particular give vivid insight into the past, and some small insight into why emotions related to this City of Jerusalem run so very high for all who live here. Honouring the past – and those who lived, fought for and died here – of all faiths – whilst developing the future is a complex business.

I have come away from each of these six experiences – individually and as a whole – inspired, moved, challenged, confused. However, this is what faith does, this is what thinking does, this is what being truly alive does – and I am glad for it. My, how I pray there were a way forward that enabled the people of this city to live in peace and free from harm.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem,
they shall prosper that love thee.
Psalm 122: 6

Put a couple of liberals together and the world is put to rights

What an amazingly thought-provoking forty-eight hours it’s been, with the most intriguing encounter possible taking place on the Temple Mount this afternoon.

I discovered that the Temple Mount is open at present (although only for selected periods of the day) whereas whenever I have visited Jerusalem before, it has always been closed. I joined the queue and made my way up on to an amazing vista. Such space as that can’t be encountered anywhere else in the city. If you look at a map of the city from above, you can see how much ground the Temple Mount covers, but to be up there – in person, as it were, was quite something.

My encounters with some of the Muslims on the Mount varied, from the man who shouted at me, “Not you!” as I vaguely approached the entrance of the Al-Aqsa Mosque (having been able to freely visit Mosques in Istanbul, I knew here would be sensitive, but I wasn’t anticipating being yelled at!) to the women who were more than happy for me to photograph them in their wonderfully colourful clothing as they chatted and passed the time of day and onto the Managers of the Temple Mount who were happy for me to enquire about the provenance of the headscarf the older man was wearing.

At the time I visited, the Mount was open for just an hour, and so there was a sense that time was limited. With my trusty Guidebook, I walked around the Mount – away from the crowds to see what was going on elsewhere. There were boys playing football, people sitting chatting, children crying, young boy is chanting, “Allahu Akbar” – only to be outdone by a group of men who started to call out louder. In addition to one woman I saw praying near the Dome of the Prophet, there were men near the Golden Gate area who seemed to be studying and talking about the Qu’ran. This area is closed off to anyone –including Jesus! According to Jewish tradition, this is the gate through which the Messiah will make his entry into Jerusalem when he comes and so it was blocked up completely by the Muslims in the 16^th Century. (We won’t mention that Christians believe he’s already come once and won’t actually need a gateway when he comes again, shall we…)

Smoking is prohibited on the Temple Mount, as is kissing in addition to showing signs of affection. Visitors are to dress modestly and behave appropriately. I wonder then what would have been made by the encounter I had with a Liberal Jew and the conversation that ensued…

This chap, whose name I never did ask (very rude of me), had drifted into my sightline a few times: I’d noticed him because he was wearing a T-shirt with a small-ish Star of David motif on it. As I was taking a photograph of the Dome of the Ascension, he came over to me and asked if I knew what any of the things were that we were looking at. I explained what the particular feature in front of us was – and that I didn’t know who had ascended from there, but went on to say that Christians believed that Jesus had ascended from the top of the Mount of Olives – and that there is a footprint on the ground (I kid you not!) At this point, the chap asked if I was Christian, to which I said yes, I  asked if he was Jewish – which he was. We walked away from the Dome of the Ascension as there was a woman was obviously getting quite cross at our (non-believer) eyes inspecting this place and who began gesticulated quite clearly that we should get lost!

The conversation that followed ranged through various topics to do with faith, belief, practices, Inter-faith dialogue, clothing, expectation and disappointment of faith communities, how many places in which St Mary is meant to have died (or not, if you believe she was assumed into heaven). The chap was from Toronto, where his father is a Rabbi – also quite Liberal. Apparently the local Cardinal (I think it was a Cardinal!) is a friend and so was recently invited over for a Friday night Shabbat meal. How cool is that?!

At one point I remarked how amazing it was that a Jew and Christian should be standing on the Muslim site of the Temple Mount and having such a conversation. This chap (to whom I really ought to give a name – let’s call his David), so… David said that at his Synagogue, in May, there is to be an evening at which three Doctors of Theology – one Muslim, one Christian and one Jewish (and all women) – are to speak on ‘The things that bring us together and the things that divide’. I commented that I wished I could be there… Toronto in May – that could be possible, maybe?!

What a wonderful encounter… it really made my day! Oh, and the Dome of the Rock is a wonderful place too…

All this has led me further in thinking about whether there needs to be a physical place where God resides, and why it is that I love to visit this land. If Jesus promised to be with us always, and also gave us the Holy Spirit as our Comforter, then is there any need for a ‘place’ at all?

When I attended my Selection Conference for Ordained Ministry, I was asked how I knew there was a God. The chap who asked me seemed to an ‘okay’ person who was genuinely interested in me and my ‘story’ (rather than there being any sense of him being someone who was seeking to trick me) so it felt alright to look him in the eye and say, “I can’t tell you how I know there is a God, but what I can tell you is that I feel it, here in my heart.” It seemed to be enough… but, it is so hard to put into words, isn’t it?! There is a place within me where I know that God resides because I feel it. There is a place within each one of us where God resides. It’s not a place that is in any sense limited or limiting – to us or to God – but it is a place where God lives and God ‘is’.

So, no, I don’t think God does need a ‘place’ in which to reside, although we may need a place to be to become aware of God more fully and deeply and God may choose to reveal God’s self to us in particular ways, times and places. You may have a place already, you may wish to discover one. Look for it, seek it out – what you find may surprise you. Know this too though, the grace of God is within you – a grace that allows for continued exploration and expression, continued questioning and doubt, continued hope and faith, continued growth and transformation.

May your coming day, like mine was today, be filled with surprising encounters – encounters that make you think, that make you wonder, that make you hope, and also that make you glad to be alive.

Going back to go forward

A few weeks ago this period Extended Study Leave (ESL) began with a few days in Cardiff. It’s a city I’d previously visited for just a one night stay many moons ago, ahead of the ordination of a friend at Llandaff Cathedral. I knew I needed to get away at the start of this ESL or I’d just carry on carrying-on with the many ‘little’ tasks which needed to be completed before I could down tools and step away from the every-day task of ministry and ‘being a vicar’. I can’t begin to tell you the sense of privilege I feel at being given this time away; time to think, pray, rest, recover, reflect, read, explore… and so much more…

And so to Cardiff.

I had a really interesting few days – visiting places such as St Fagans, the building that houses the National Assembly for Wales, and Pierhead. St Fagan’s was such an interesting place, and really worth a visit if you are over that way – not least because you could spend the whole day there and it’s free! (When I said this to one of the staff he replied, “Ah yes, we’re frittering away your English taxes.” I made no reply!)

One of the highlights of the week was attending the mid-week Eucharist Service at Dewi Sant. It’s the only completely Welsh speaking church in the city. Everything is in Welsh, and I mean everything! Hymns, readings, prayers, notices (I got a mention in dispatches and the only reason I know this is that I recognised my name being said as you can’t say Deborah in any other way – even in Welsh!) I was quite happy to go with the flow of a Service in a foreign language knowing that I‘d have some clue as to what was going on by the shape of the Service (readings, hymns etc.) or the priest waving his hands around – for example, during the Eucharistic Prayer or at the Blessing. Imagine my relief then when the Service Book was opened for me at the relevant page and it was ‘simultaneous translation’ on the facing pages! (I can tell you it takes less space to write out (and to say) the Lord’s Prayer in English – just in case you ever feel you need to know.) They were a lovely congregation and made me feel very welcome at coffee afterwards. The Priest wasn’t too bad at being welcoming either… I guess I have to say that as he’s a friend!

I was thinking about that experience as I attended the Service this morning at St George’s Cathedral here in Jerusalem as well as the Service to close the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity – held at the Greek MelkiteCatholic Patriarch Church. I chose to attend both Services today, just as I chose to attend the Service in Cardiff and the experiences of each of them – apart and together has given me a lot of food for thought as I have been drifting around the streets of Jerusalem. This evening’s Service – at which well over a hundred people were gathered – was conducted predominantly in Arabic. A fulsome Order of Service has been provided – in various languages – and we were even given a translation of the Homily. I have mine here – in English, of course! (How I wish I could speak Arabic, it’s so beautiful to look at and intriguing to listen to.) As I came away from the Service this evening I found myself thinking not only about the language we use to speak in when worshipping, but also the ‘language’ we use to worship God – not the words themselves, but the actions, the expressions of faith, the way we do what we do and how so many say (either aloud or internally) what they do is ‘right’ and what others do is ‘wrong’. I found myself asking if we will ever speak the same ‘language’. Will Christians ever come together as a household of faith and agree on what words to use – agree in heart as well as in words of intent during a Week of Prayer for Christianity? Will the children of Abraham – Muslim and Jew and Christian alike – ever agree in heart that we are children of the same God, that we worship the same God, and that God wills for the good of each person God has created? This ‘good’, which is God’s love, reaches beyond faith alone, it reaches to gender, race, sexuality.

It’s not about what I think or believe is right – and therefore what I (wittingly or unwittingly) imply is ‘wrong’, it’s about what God has asked me to do, asked each person in creation, in fact, to do – and that is to love. As Jesus said, “The first commandment is this, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’” He went on to say, “Love your neighbour as yourself.

If we were to get the first of these two injunctions right – in whatever language, creed or practice we choose – and then work on the second with as much determination then maybe, just maybe, Christians will come together as a household of faith and agree in heart as well as spoken intent, and all the children of Abraham – Muslim and Jew and Christian alike – will agree in heart that we are children of the same God, that we worship the same God, and that God wills for the good of each person God has created. Wouldn’t it be just grand if this came to pass.