Sunday on the Haram Esh Sharif

This morning, we decided to head up to the Haram Esh Sharif (also known as Mount Moriah or the Temple Mount). It is only open to non-Muslims for a total of about 3 hours a day, ninety minutes in the morning and another ninety in the early afternoon (during "siesta time"). In the interest of full disclosure, I have to confess to almost missing this excursion: I, who am usually the first to be ready to go, woke 15 minutes before we were scheduled to leave St. Stephen's. Such is life. Walking through the Old City first thing in the morning, when the city is justing waking up, is always fun. Without the hoards of people and the merchants trying to get you into their shops, we have tended to notice features that we've missed (this time it was a well from the time of Sulliman), even though we've been by the spot countless times. We met up with two British undergrads (students of doctoral student who had stayed a few days at the Eçole) at the entrance. The non-Muslim entrance to the Haram (to go in any other gate is to publicly proclaim yourself a Muslim; the guards at those shoo tourists away regularly) is right next the the main entrance to Western Wall (just off the right side of the first picture. Like going into the Western Wall area, you have to pass through security and a metal detector. We were told specifically to have no religious objects of any kind on our person when we went, including rosaries in our pockets, etc. We did see, as we were getting ready to leave, a group of sisters in habit (though without crosses, etc.) touring the site.

There were two interesting features at the entrance to the Haram Esh Sharif: first, a sign saying that it was forbidden by the Torah to enter and second (which I almost missed) a mezuzah! (Mezuzahs are the small "shrines" traditionally put on Jewish doorways containing a scroll of the Law, which they kiss upon entering and leaving.) So needless to say, I was surprised when I saw a clearly Orthodox Jewish man (with tassles and kippa) a bit later on the Temple Mount. The second photo is of men praying at the Western Wall; the large arch on the right, adjacent to the Wall is a synagogue. There were very few people about; after 9 pm - midnight in the Holy Sepulcher, it was the most serene of the Holy Places.

The north end of the Haram is mostly off limits and is covered with trees (see yesterday's entry with a shot looking down on the Haram from the 1st Station). We asked an Israeli soldier who was walking by if it was permissible to go up on the wall; at first he said flat out "no," but about twenty paces beyond us, he turned around and said "For just a minute" then "before they see you and yell at you" he said conspiratorially. As we walked, we found a relatively secluded area near the Golden Gate (on the eastern side of the Mount), where we hopped up and took some pictures of the Mount of Olives and the Golden Gate; we had a good two minute run until we were spotted and duly yelled at in Arabic to get down, which we did quickly. Apparently we were dawdling a bit too long at the Golden Gate too, because the same guy yelled at us again. (Remember, the Golden Gate is the entrance through which Jesus - in the Muslim tradition, along with John the Baptist - or the Messiah - in the Jewish tradition - will triumphantly enter the Temple at the end of time. The Romans, not wanting any "competition," walled up the Gate.)

The plaza around the Dome of the Rock is beautiful in its simplicity. The mosaics that cover the outside of the Dome of the Rock are breathtaking. (The gold dome itself, I have to confess, is less impressive close up because you can see all of the scratches and other flaws.) In this picture, the Dome of the Rock is behind you, and you are looking roughly south toward the El Aqsa Mosque. Looking the Crusader/Gothic arch over the entrance, can you tell it was a church at one point in its history? The el Aqsa mosque is thought to have been the location of the Temple of Solomon (the king's residence). In the next picture, you can see the Dome of the Rock and the Dome of the Chain. The Dome of the Rock enshrines the rock from which Muhammed is said to have been taken up to heaven; it is also said to be a foundation stone of the Holy of Holies of the (2nd) Temple, hence the area's sanctity to the Jewish people. The Dome of the Chain is said to have once housed a chain made by King Solomon, used to adjudicate cases. Non-Muslims are currently not permitted in either the El Aqsa mosque or the Dome of the Rock. The last photo is of the minbar (basically a pulpit) on the southwestern edge of the plaza around the Dome of the Rock; it is just off camera to the right of the photo looking toward el Aqsa.

Our next stop was attending Mass at the Notre Dame center. It was both nearby (just outside the New Gate) where we were going and it had a 9:00 Mass in English. It was a treat because the main celebrant was celebrating his 40th anniversary of ordination. He was a missionary who had spent about seven years at the Notre Dame center. His homily, which was more or less a reflection on his 40 years of priestly ministry, was quite edifying to us, while also applying the themes in the readings to the congregation's lives as well. One of the other priests (who turned out to be the Vice Director) warmly welcomed us to come back and to concelebrate. (We were in mufti from our trip to the Haram, not to mention a bit on the sweaty side.)

In our continuing celebration of the 4th, we finished our morning by returning to Café Zuni for an "American" breakfast (eggs, bacon, sausage, "filter" coffee [which usually means drip coffee, but this time was a French Press] and all the trappings. My dish even came with guacamole, which was delicious. This place keeps on surprising. Tomorrow, we head down to explore Jericho. On the way home on Tuesday, we will "do" Masada and Qumran, possibly En Geddi as well. Wednesday will be another experience: we have to Ramallah, in the Palestinian territory, to the Jordanian consulate to get our visas for Petra. Now, I have to do my reading for tomorrow before Vespers.

Shabbat on the 4th of July

After class yesterday afternoon, we did the Friday Stations of the Cross procession led by the Franciscan friars. This picture of the Haram is from the school yard that is the First Station. (A note on historicity: the Via Dolorosa as it is currently laid out in the Holy City is probably not the actual route Our Lord took. It begins at the Antonia fortress, which in the Middle Ages was identified as Pontius Pilate's residence; archeology suggests it much more likely that Pilate lived in the Citadel fortress across town. Never mind: centuries worth of pilgrims have sanctified this route by their prayers and focus on Jesus' Passion.) The Stations were conducted in Italian and English, with the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be's in Latin. It was a moving experience to pray the Stations with other pilgrims, amid all the distractions of going through the suqs (pronounced "sooks," streets lined with shops of every kind) as we prayed. The last stations are, of course, in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Some people seem surprised when this large procession entered! The Stations end with a blessing from the Custos, the Franciscan in charge of all of the Catholic Holy Sites in the Holy Land. He is arguably the most powerful and influential Catholic in the Holy Land. (No disrespect intended toward His Beatitude, the Latin Patriarch!)

After returning to St. Stephen's and changing out of our habits (you'll see why in moment), we had dinner at what is becoming almost a hangout for us (this was our 3rd visit). You know you're more than a tourist when proprietors of the restaurant recognize you and seat you at your "usual" table without even asking! Such is Arab hospitality. After a great meal, we entered in the plaza of the Western Wall. We had been told it was quite an experience at sundown beginning Shabbat. It did not disappoint! When we arrived, the men's and women's sections immediately before the wall were filled with Ultra-orthodox praying; most of the men and a few of the women were davening (the rapidly repeated shallow bows) while reciting Psalms or other prayers. Toward the main entrance to the plaza (from the Dung Gate, the picture is above the entrance looking toward the Western Wall), there was already a large gathering of Israeli soldiers, both men and women. Some of the men were already gathered and dancing. It was a carnival atmosphere. It was an eclectic gather of people: the pious, recollected Ultra-orthodox, the tourists (like us!), Jewish spectators (men in kippas, or yamulkas), settlers with M-1 rifles (we spotted one with an M-16), and the inordinate number of soldiers in uniform, all of whom were of course armed with automatic rifles. We were approached by a group of soldiers (who were happy to talk to us and no more than 23 or 24) and found out they were a class of officer candidates preparing for their commissioning in a few days. At signal, all of the male soldiers went en masse (maybe 150 - 200 guys) to the wall, where they immediately began dancing! The scripture that immediately came to mind was David dancing with abandon before the Ark of the Covenant (2 Samuel 6:14). It was like having a 7:00 (or other early Sunday morning) Mass, a Baptist Revival and a carnival all going on at the same time! We were slightly worried about going (being non-Jews), but there was absolutely no problem (until Fr. Bart tried to take a picture, which violates the Sabbath prohibition on work). I am very glad we went.

Today we celebrated the 4th of July by sleeping in! We gathered for Mass in English at 9:00, just the four of us. After a slight breakfast, we headed out for our chores for the day: haircuts all around, visiting the Rockefeller Museum and buying a fan. A couple of interesting tidbits at the museum: an inscription from a 1st century Jerusalem synagogue (until the destruction of the Temple, synagogues functioned as Jewish "community centers," neighborhood gathering and social places, rather than strictly places of study and worship they are today), the lintels from the Holy Sepulcher (they needed to be removed in order to be preserved) and artifacts from Hishram's Palace, which we are going to visit on Monday. The barber Fr. Gregory wanted to take us to was closed, so we ended up at one near St. Stephen's. The owner's older son was the other barber; his younger son served us coffee, swept the floor and brushed off the clients when his dad or brother finished with them. One of the other clients was a Greek Orthodox Palestinian who used to run the optical department at Herrod's in London! (This was fortuitous, as Fr. Bart had broken his glasses yesterday, so he sent him to a friend of his who fixed his glasses on the spot.) After our shrivings, we met a friend of Fr. Gregory's, an Albright Fellow, and went to lunch at Zuni's, a 24 hour restaurant and bar, in the Jewish quarter whose advertisement is simple: "We Serve Bacon." Needless to say, we all got bacon cheeseburgers and fries to celebrate the Fourth of July! (It is funny, but has a serious side too: there is an Israeli policeman outside the door with a metal detecting wand you have to pass before entering the place. There was also a private security guard outside the Irish pub we went to last week that also serves cheeseburgers.)

Tonight (in a few minutes actually), we are heading up to the American Colony Hotel for some good ol' 'Merican drinks: Manhattans made with Jack Daniel's. We hoping that once the sun sets there might be some fireworks. On that subject, fireworks are common here: both Jews and Arabs love them. There was a big wedding last night, we found out, when we asked about the fireworks we seen and heard last night. Watermelon (which we've had and it's delicious) and milkshakes were also on our minds, but we don't want to be gluttonous!

Have a happy fourth of July. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem and for the people and government of the United States. The prayer is by the first bishop of the United States.

The Ascesis of Study

Study is a central ascesis of Dominican life. It is one that I have frankly let slip since leaving St. Albert's, our house of studies, over a decade ago. I have by no stretch of the imagination stopped reading good solid books on a wide variety topics; I have read what I hoped to be useful to me, to my ministry, to those around me, etc. or in areas where I find God "outside" of theology (like mathematics). However, this time in Jerusalem has pointed out to me that my approach has not been ascetic, at least in the Dominican sense. I have reduced my study to an utilitarian activity.

Ascesis and ascetic are not bad words. Modern culture may think so, but it's because it has a distorted view of asceticism. Being ascetic, or even an ascetic, is NOT about inflicting punishments on oneself (or having them imposed by another) in hoping of pleasing or satiating a masochistic God (or institution, superior, etc.) in order to be temporarily or permanently miserable and thereby somehow to gain merit. It comes from the Greek word askein, which means "to exercise"; when used as a nominal form, it is the word for monk or nun. St. Paul tells the Corinthians, "Every athlete exercises discipline in every way. They do it to win a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one. Thus I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight as if I were shadowboxing. No, I drive my body and train it..." (1Cor. 9:26-27a) Religious asceticism, then, trains the whole person for the encounter with God; "From my flesh I shall see God; my inmost being is consumed with longing." (Job 19:26)

The genius of St. Dominic in answering the needs of his time was to replace physical asceticism of traditional monasticism with intellectual asceticism, specifically study and preaching. Both forms are practiced by the individual in the context of community life and its fruits benefit the community. Their tangible "fruits" (e.g., raising wholesome food for the monastery or a particularly learned homily on the feeding miracles) are of secondary importance. Their primary aim is the sanctification (bringing to closer to God) of the individual and his/her community in and through a particular discipline.

For a Dominican friar, study is a discipline that is meant to keep him in shape for encountering the Living God and hopefully, to actually encounter the Father of Mercies in that exercise. If you have heard me preach or sought my counsel recently, you have heard me quote Bl. Teresa of Calcutta, "God does not ask us to be successful; God asks us to be faithful." I have replaced success (i.e., utility) for fidelity to my discipline to study.

It's probably no accident that I am also not in great physical shape at the moment either. Funny how that works! I need to bring this to prayer: since God has seen fit to show this to me, it also means God is wanting some action on my part...

Not MIA, just busy

These last few days have been packed. Saturday was a free day (no tours or class). I must admit that I did something I rarely do: I took a nap after breakfast. It lasted 2.5 hours! I guess I needed the sleep. That's what I did instead of sorting and captioning pictures. Honestly, I don't know where Fr. Bart gets the energy! Saturday afternoon we got a surprise treat: a tour of the tombs and archeology "department" of the Ecole. Fr. Jean-Baptiste is the resident expert Dominican archaeologist. This is the second time he has invited over to his office; every visit begins with coffee! He showed us the tombs on the property (of which the Garden Tomb next door is actually a part). His research indicates they are Byzantine age; others (including the Israeli government) believe they are Iron Age (Solomonic). The real treat of the afternoon was when Fr. Jean-Baptiste had Fr. Steven "model" a suit of Crusader chain armor! He marveled how well it fit and how easily he could move despite it's 35 kg weight. (Steven's left hand is covering the exit hole made by an arrow that pierced a previous wearer's thigh.)

Sunday was in many ways a watershed day. We visited Hebron and the Tombs of the Patriarchs (Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, etc.). Arab roads (as opposed to Israeli) are poorly marked, so we had some difficulty finding our way. Fortunately for us, a car of young Arab men (one of the only other cars we had seen) graciously led us to Hebron. Fr. Gregory told us on the way that this is actually common in Arab culture, for people to not just lead you, but drop whatever they're doing and take you where you are going. (Kind of like the folks in Safeway, but only natural.) They deposited us in the center of city and promptly disappeared! It took us another 45 minutes to make our way through the modern city toward the Tombs, which were, as it turned out, on the opposite side of town from where we arrived. We learned a bit of Arabic that day (this is a tranliteration, not an attempt at spelling): doogree, doogree, which seems to mean, keeping going straight!

The old city of Hebron (actually all of Hebron, but especially the old city, which is near the Tombs) is the shame of the state of Israel. Here, Israeli settlers literally live on top of the Palestinians and try with all of their might to make life hell, so they will leave. The Palestinians were happy, if surprised, to see us. (This actually surprised me, given how much money the US gives to Israel and how much of that money actually goes to settlements. They seem to make the distinction between a nation's government and its people.) I got the sense that the Jewish people just wished we would go away. To date, this was the most visceral, intense and obvious example of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict we have yet experienced. In this photo, taken from a Palestinian roof, you can see a settler's house wall to the right, empty water canisters and some of the netting the Palestinians use to protect themselves from the trash and other refuse the settlers throw on them.

That night, we stayed in Arad. It is a beautifully planned and executed Israeli city in the middle of the Negev desert. You could have been in any middle/upper middle class neighborhood in the US. We encountered a group of students on a Birthright Israel trip at our hotel; one student in particular talked with us for quite a while. (Birthright is a group that believes every Jewish child should visit Israel and takes high school and college students there whose families cannot afford the trip.) We were reflecting that Birthright would not, even if its Israeli guides were permitted in Hebron, take its students there.

We also went to Tel Arad that afternoon, instead of Mamre as originally planned. It is the best example of a Bronze age city (9th - 8th century BC). It is right on the "border" between the Judean foothills and the Negev desert. There is also a Canaanite temple, complete with an altar and a Holy of Holies in a similar arrangement to the later Jerusalem Temple. (The altar of sacrifice is just out of the viewer's sight, to the viewer's right in the foreground.)

On Monday, we did Mamshit, Tel Beer Shiva and Bet Guvrim. Mamshit (yes, we made all of the off-color jokes you'd expect, even though it's a long "i") is along a major trade route and is magnificently built; many ruins survive today, including two churches. The mosaics in the churches are amazing (even though they look drab because of the dirt on them), as are two frescos. These are a pair of surving arches of Mamshit.

Tel Beer Sheva is important for two reasons: 1) it marks the scriptural southern boarder of the Promised Land (e.g., Judges 20:1, "from Dan to Beer Sheva") and 2) it association with the Patriarchs (Abraham's & Isaac's treaties with the Phillistines in Gen. 21:25-33 & 26: 15-33 and Jacob's vision to go Egypt in Gen 46:1-7). Bet Guvrim is amazing for it's so-called bell caves (caves left behind after mining limestone) and two Sidinion tombs. It was "bonus" Fr. Gregory decided on it since we missed Mamre and were able to get to Tel Arad the day before. From the picture you can see how they get their names.

Because of our extra stop on Monday, we did not get home until late in the afternoon. The Ecole was hosting a special event that night: Solemn Vespers of Ss. Peter and Paul to formally close the Pauline Year. The celebrant was His Eminence Walter Kaspar, Pope Benedict's personal representative in the Holy Land for these events. Although I was beat, I decided to go just to say I was there. I even made it into a couple of the photos. (I will try and get the link: they are great photos of the Basilica.) It also meant that we got Tuesday "off" to study, since we had no time to do so since our last time in the classroom!

Today was our class on the Epiphanies. Like the rest, each day is filled with "Ah ha!" moments, both through our individual preparations for class and in the discussion we have together. I have not been this excited about (formal) study in very long time. There is always more we want to do, but cannot! Tomorrow we will do the Feeding Miracles and Table Fellowship (in case you're following the outline, which in case you haven't noticed has been altered since we arrived) and the Controversies on Friday.