SO, I will blog! It's been a while since I've done this. I just moved out of the dorms yesterday (woooohoooo! They were not nice.) and am staying at a friend's apartment in a different neighborhood close to campus (she's away in Turkey. Cool, huh?!) For the FIRST time since I've been in Israel, I woke up this morning with the very real sensation that I am living in another country. I look out of the bedroom window and I see uniform concrete buildings in the background; smaller, flat roofed concrete houses are in the foreground along with some blue construction tarps, a few small cars, garbage dumps in the parking lot, a few palm trees and one giant tree, whose variety escapes me. There's also a few electrical towers, TONS of sand, and a big, big, blue sky enveloping everything. This, my friends, is Be'er Sheva in a nutshell. And it's been my home for almost half a year now.
There's no way I can write a blog post about "my time in Israel"; it's way too dense for that. Instead, I want to share my Christmas experience, which I believe was the best Christmas I've had. And it's strange, because this is the first Christmas I spent away from my family. You would think it would be extremely difficult. But being in the Holy Land helped, as did sharing my Christmas with my friends. I'll recap:
I decided to go to Jerusalem. This wasn't as hyped up as it sounds. I think Jerusalem gets really crowded on Easter (obviously) but it was pretty empty on Monday afternoon, December 24, when I arrived via bus. First thing I did was go to the Old City with my friend Kurt, to see if we could get tickets to a Christmas service that night at the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer. Did I mention that the service was in German?
This was the first interesting thing I did. I had originally planned to attend a "unitarian" service of sorts at some big church somewhere near the Old City, because it had the subtitle "multilingual," which to me equaled English! No Orthodox services were held on the 25th, because every Orthodox church in Israel is Old Calendar, so there would be no "Thy Nativity, Oh Christ our God..." for me. BUT wait until I tell you the rest.
Kurt and I weren't sure if we would be let into Church of the Redeemer. They had stopped giving tickets and we were told that if we came back in a few hours we might be able to find some standing room in the back. Okay, no harm done. We both wanted to be at service. Kurt told me that in Germany he sometimes goes to four services on Christmas day, just to hear the carols. Cool, huh?
So, we had a few hours to spare in Jerusalem. What does one do in the Old City for a few hours? Pray and shop and go up on the roofs of old buildings. Seriously. We went to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (erected by Sts. Constantine and Helen in the 300s) and--it was so quiet! The last time I had been to the Church, it was Saturday, in the middle of the day, and it was miserably crowded. But because it was the evening, and on a Monday, there was scarcely anyone inside. So what did I do? I walked quickly toward the tomb to go inside and venerate the stone. I made it, but not before an angry monk started shouting at me to keep moving. Needless to say it was not the spiritual experience one expects when venerating such sacred objects, but I knew that, because last time at the Church I felt similarly...like a stuffed sardine waiting to be healed! But then when I feel like this I always think of Zachaeus and how he climbed a tree just to see Jesus above the crowds. Where's a good, sturdy tree when you need one?
Anyway, after a bit of shopping (that's another perk of not being home for Christmas--you have so much more time to buy presents!) we ended up at a bar with some friends, toasting on Christmas Eve. This was also strange for me. I'm used to fasting and (trying to) nap on Christmas Eve...but we gathered at a table around an outdoor heater, I drank hot mulled wine (!!!) and somehow, it felt good.
After this, Kurt and I went back to the Church to see about getting into the service. Did I mention that Kurt is German? He totally played the "we're both from the same country" card and got us inside, but there were plenty of open pews even after the service started.
About the service: the program was in German, English, Hebrew, and Arabic. This was singularly incredible. From the entrance to the building, we descended a set of stairs, passed an open courtyard, and crossed through a doorway into a massive white chapel with high vaulted ceilings, dimly lit and incredibly beautiful. Candles lined the rows of pews, a Christmas tree was set up on stage, and a beautiful creche scene was off to the side, pictured at left (it's blurry, I apologize..)
Then the service began with an angelic choir singing very familiar Christmas carols! The choir and congregation sang in German, but I happily joined in in English. At one point during one carol, we ALL sang the same thing: Glooooooooooooria! In Excelcius Deo.
See, not only did I learn Hebrew, but I speak German now too :)
It was a beautiful service; the shortest Christmas service I had ever been to, and there was a lot of sitting, but it was lovely and restful. In retrospect, I'm glad we sat for so long, because here's what we did next:
Ever wondered how long it takes one to walk from Jerusalem to Bethlehem? No? That's okay, I'll tell you anyway: two and a half hours, plus stops for singing.
Yep! Me, Kurt, Krystoff, and Paul joined a group of about 100 from the service on a midnight walk to the place of His birth...I really can't believe this. I will try to describe the experience without sounding like a Hallmark card or the 700 club, but please forgive me if I cheese out a bit....
It was cold and the walk was long. I felt neither of these sensations. I was warm and giddy. Really giddy. It was CHRISTMAS! I had never felt so excited in my whole life. Everything about this day felt special, unlike all the rest of the days, which it is.
The walk itself is not a beautiful one, and we were honked at several times by onlookers thinking all sorts of crazy things (I was surprised how used to this I felt...I remembered the Boston days of traipsing through the street at 2 am with giant candles...thanks Mama and Papa for raising me crazy, it came in handy.) And then this happened (picture at left). See that giant concrete wall in the center of the picture? Enlarge the photo. It's a giant concrete wall, with a security tower in the middle, and it passes through the middle of the street.
It's "THE WALL!" About five years ago, the Israeli government decided to build this wall dividing Israeli Jerusalem from Palestinian Bethlehem. So what do pilgrims do? This: (picture at right) Sing Christmas carols in the Checkpoint.
Never thought I'd say that sentence.
Once we passed through the checkpoint, we were in Bethlehem, and then we did this:
Watching this video again makes me inexplicably sad--sadder, I think, then I felt when I was there. I was too overwhelmed to understand what I was feeling then, because our walk continued away from the tumultuous wall and into Manger Square, where everything was warm and fuzzy again.
|Decorations in Manger Square|
|The GIANT Christmas tree in Manger Square.|
When I climbed down into the grotto, I was astonished (though thinking back on it, it makes sense) to see SO many people down there, even at 3 am! There was a Catholic service being conducted, and people were gathered around this humble little star, kneeling and praying. I was in awe. I couldn't really move and just stared at this star, picturing a tiny little baby curled up and sleeping inside. What Kings and Shepherds felt that day, here I was standing in their footprints.
It was surreal. Remembering it now, I feel very funny inside...that's all I can say. I probably shouldn't try and describe it because I can't.
But needless to say, this was the best Christmas of my life. No family, no presents, no warm Christmas morning, but WHAT a day I had!
Wishing you all a peaceful and blessed 2013.