Forward

For as long as I have a recollection of memories, I have a recollection of scripture. For at the very earliest of ages, my grandmother would read it to me at bedtime, my grandfather would preach it to me in the car, and my parents assured that there was always available a good supply of Bible storybooks. I was blessed to have a family that took me to church in my early years, where I was able to hear the Gospel preached consistently, and come to further understand the significance of the words inspired by God Himself. It is because of the nature and source of these words that the scriptures have always held a mystical and reverential place in my heart. Because I love God and have irreversibly dedicated my life to the pursuit of His truths, I am infatuated with His words revealed through the scriptures.

This special obsession has since early childhood created in me a wonder and curiosity not only about the Bible, but also the land in which the Biblical events took place. I have spent countless hours in my life wondering what it must have been like to live in Biblical times; trying to visualize the scenes, trying to capture the emotions, and trying to understand more of the essences of scripture. I have always had a curiosity concerning the land of Israel and the entire region that incorporates, “The Holy Land.” Even in grade school, I dreamed of visiting the Holy Land and I wondered what it would be like to literally walk in the footsteps of Christ. It was a dream that has never quite escaped me and has never diminished. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it was always there.

And so, in the summer of 2001, I decided to go . . . to take a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. To me, it was more than a vacation. It was the fulfillment of a lifelong desire. And now having returned, I realize that it was more than I ever envisioned it would be. It was a time of spiritual renewal, a time of spiritual evaluation, and an opportunity to breathe special life into the scriptures that I always suspected existed, but never knew for sure was there. The things I learned, the times I shared, will never be forgotten and can never be undervalued. For in the Holy Land, God met me in new ways and taught me things that I couldn’t learn if I had stayed home. I know that many years in the future, I will still look back at my time in Israel as one of the highlights of my life. It was truly a remarkable time.

I hope that in the following pages, I can communicate in some small way what the Holy Land means to me. Unfortunately, simple words cannot explain its significance, and pictures fall far short of portraying its majesty. Only my thoughts and feelings remain, and I will do my best to display them here for posterity and edification. I feel it’s a great privilege to share my experiences with you, and I hope that you are touched by God through what I have lived.

Note: To maximize the potential impact of this pilgrimage on my life, I undertook several activities that I knew would help me to make the most of my time in the Holy Land and assist me in remembering what God showed me while I was there.

Preparation:

1. I regularly read the scriptures and tried to focus on the passages and books that occurred near areas where I knew I would be visiting.

2. I prayed regularly for my trip and that God would keep me safe and show me the things that He wanted me to see. I would also pray that my heart would be ready to receive the things of the Lord.

3. I purchased and thoroughly read the book, Israel: A Biblical Tour of the Holy Land by Neal W. May. I used this book as my primary source (other than scripture) for information on Israel and I believed it served me very well. I highly recommend this book. It includes maps, photos, and tons of scripture and commentary on the different holy sites.

4. I daily read the Jerusalem Post website for several months before my trip, so that I could stay abreast of the situation in Israel, and be knowledgeable about the hearts of the people who live there.

Documentation:

1. I took both a 35mm camera a digital camcorder along with me on the trip to document many of the places where I had gone. The camcorder also allowed me to share my feelings for posterity and latter meditation.

2. I kept a consistent journal throughout my trip in which I wrote many of my thoughts, feelings, and emotions, as I underwent the process of encountering God and His scriptures.

3. I consistently wrote e-mails home to my friends, many of which capture my emotional state at different points along the trip.

Each of these activities has helped to embellish my journey, and I hope that I can weave them all together in the following pages to tell my story effectively.

5/30/01 – 5/31/01

It was actually the movie, “The Egyptian” and not the Holy Land, which brought me to my first destination in Egypt; the city of Luxor. It is generally upper Egypt which I had more readily (and falsely) associated with Biblical times. The truth is, it was Ramses II who eventually set the Israelite slaves free around 1250BC, and he did it while ruling from the long-time capital of Egypt, the ancient city of Thebes. The city of Thebes is today called Luxor and contains the greatest collection of standing tombs, monuments, and temples from ancient Egypt’s past.

If one would ask me what my favorite movie is, I would say without hesitation, “The Egyptian.” Made in 1954, the story focuses on a physician named, Sinuhe who lived in the pharaonic times of Akhenaten. The life and story of Akhenaten has so fascinated me that I just had to see the area where the real Akhenaten lived. Akhenaten ruled Egypt for just 20 years before many believe he was assassinated. Ancient Thebes was calling me and since I was going to be in Egypt already, I decided to plan a three-day excursion into the heart of the ancient “New Kingdom.”

I left Washington DC at around 5PM as I had arrived early to Reagan National airport and was able to catch a flight on standby to JFK in New York. While leaving the city, we flew over RFK stadium and the monuments, the new Redskins stadium and old capital center, and directly over the Bay Bridge. It all looked so beautiful and I hoped that I would see it all again someday if I survived my journey.

Upon my arrival in New York, I was able to relax and eat some dinner, enjoying my last bastion of Americana before the lengthy stay abroad. I was supposed to catch a ten-hour flight from JFK to Cairo, Egypt, but this was put in doubt when the stewardess proclaimed to us at 9:30PM that our flight “has been postponed until further notice for mechanical difficulties.” My heart sank as I envisioned every portion of my well-planned trip suddenly falling apart. Upon landing in Cairo, I had a 5-hour layover until I was supposed to catch another plain to Luxor. Therefore, I knew that I had a little bit of time to play with, but not much. After about an hour and a half of squirming, the stewardess announced that we would be boarding and we actually got to Cairo without a hitch.

The flight was pretty bumpy, but I slept a good deal and was actually amazed that it seemed so short. In what could only be explained as a gift from God, the pilot told us that if we were seated on the left side of the airplane (which I was), we would be able to see a nice view of the Pyramids. I scavenged for my video camera and managed to get the most priceless shots of the Pyramids. I was pretty psyched to be seeing them. Few people are so privileged to see the Pyramids from that vantage point. Although I knew I would tour them in detail later in the week, I couldn’t help but be amazed. I mean there they were, “THE Pyramids.” There isn’t another set!

Journal excerpt: Arriving in Cairo was an interesting ordeal. The airport is less than helpful as everything is written primarily in Arabic, which is impossible to decipher. Through my guidebook I realized that I had to pay $15 for a visa, which I needed to get at a bank before entering the customs area. There is a row of banks just before customs, so I was able to take care of that and exchange some money. It took me about an hour to get through customs, get my luggage and get over to the domestic terminal to catch my

connecting flight to Luxor. In the meantime, a taxi driver scammed me for about 8 dollars to take me over to the terminal ( I ended up falling for it.) When we arrived, I discovered that he actually took me to the wrong terminal and I ended up walking about 300 yards to the correct terminal in the oppressive, near-triple digit heat wearing a full sweat suit, lugging a video bad, and rolling a suitcase.

During my time in Cairo, waiting for the plane trip to Luxor, I ran into a nice American lady and some of her relatives who now live in Cairo. I talked with her for a couple hours. Her relatives told me about the recent threat by terrorist Assadin Bin Ladin, who had pledged to murder United States citizens touring through Egypt. Now that’s EXACTLY what I want to hear as I begin a 9-day tour of Egypt. I just pray that God will keep me safe. It wasn’t an accident that I was brought over here. There is a reason. I can’t wait to find out what it is.

Note: My flight to Luxor was non-eventful as was my trip to the hotel. One funny incident did happen on the plane though, as a “just married” couple was on board still dressed in their wedding dress and tuxedo (it’s customary in Egypt to do this.) They bought “coach” tickets, but the stewardesses ushered them up to 1st class when she noticed that there would be room. As soon as they entered the 1st class compartment, the stewardess “pulled the curtain,” and everyone began to smirk and laugh joyfully. It was a funny moment, one that did not need any translation.

6/1/01

I was awoken rather violently this morning by the sound of people screaming over loud speakers. My first thought was, “God in heaven, what in the world is that! And why is it screaming at me at this ungodly hour???!!!” It was the minarets issuing their “call to prayer” of course, and it was my first encounter with Islamic Egypt. I’m not sure what they were screaming but I wanted with every portion of my being to scream back, “shut up!!!! It’s 4:30 in the morning!!!!!!”

After eating breakfast, I was met by my private guide who took me on a two-hour tour of Karnak Temple. Karnak Temple is more of a “complex” than it is a single temple and is comprised of several different temples including the Temples of Amun, Mut, and Montha. For Amun was the chiefest of Gods to the ancient Egyptians. If you were hip in ancient Thebes, chances are you were an Amun worshipper. The first thing that grabs you about the temple is its majestic size and age. The oldest portions of Karnak Temple date back to the reign of Sesostris I in 1971BC and many of the structures are huge and still well intact.

As part of the building philosophy, each pharaoh added on to the existing temples as a way of legitimizing his/her reign (there was one female pharaoh who built structures.) I enjoyed the Kiosk of Taharqo and the Hypostyle Hall the most, but also marveled at the Obelisks erected by Thutmose I and Hatshepsut.

Journal excerpt – Karnak Temple: Walking alone in Karnak Temple is quite an experience. I keep repeating in my mind that this temple is 5,000 years old. It looks old, but I have nothing to compare it to. . . I’ve never seen something built by human hands that is so old. I am amazed how well it has withstood time. I would never expect such an ancient temple to still look as good as it does. It’s amazing.

One of the first structures that I found significant was the Kiosk of Taharqo. This consisted of a major passageway flanked by sphinx-like rams. For being several millennia old, they are incredible well preserved and powerfully majestic. It is here for the first time that I truly feel overpowered. These statues are not in textbooks and they are not made of paper-machete. These are the real mccoy, ancient structures that pre-date Christ and are undoubtedly of tremendous craftsmanship. I feel a riveting energy standing here and know that a photo or two will not display their greatness. It is so exciting to stand here beneath these structures. I will never be able to explain this feeling.

The Hypostyle Hall, the forest of manmade columns, how ever could you still be standing? Countless tribes have traversed your hallways. Egypt has risen and fallen, Ancient Greece has come and gone; the

Roman Empire, The Mongols, Napoleonic France, The British Crown have all been birthed, lived their lives, and sunk into desolation, and you have seen them all. Still you stand. 134 mighty monuments to time and stability that seem too stubborn to die. Ever persevering, you continue to stand watch over Lower Egypt. Oh, to uncover the mysteries of your voice, for you have seen much.

After leaving Karnak, I headed to “The Papyrus Institute,” which was one of two “pressure sales” places that would be on my agenda. Basically, the shtick is this – I was taken by my tour guide to a small store. Upon entry, they offer you a drink, which is customary for you to accept. Then, they teach you how the ancients used to make papyrus. After the 10-minute tour, they attempt to sell you legitimate papyrus artwork that they have made. They are pretty high-pressure and I did not enjoy the process. However, it’s all part of the program and it’s a pretty standard feature of most tours.

Next, I was taken to Luxor temple. After touring the temple, it was around 1PM and I was taken back to my hotel room, where I grabbed some lunch and took a three-hour nap. Around 5PM, I was taken on an hour tour of the Luxor Museum. After seeing these things, the day was essentially over. The hot, sun requires and early start and an afternoon siesta. At around 6PM, I returned to my hotel, where I hung out by the pool and relaxed for a couple hours. I would return in the evening to take some photos of Luxor Temple at sunset, but I tried to rest a lot. Time-wise, I didn’t get as much for my money as one might expect. However, any more activity after my extensive travel from the states and I think I would have gotten ill. I am definitely fatigued, and need plenty of rest. For me, the tour times were just about perfect for what I wanted to see and experience. Anyway, since I had a private guide and car, I was setting the times anyway, so it doesn’t much matter.

Journal excerpt – Luxor temple: Luxor Temple was one of the first items of antiquity that I saw last evening when I arrived from the States. Illuminated by night, it is quite a sight and standing now in its presence is a special privilege. The Avenue of Sphinxes is a delightful site and many of the statues are still well put together. It’s neat to gaze down the avenue and imagine what it must have looked like when they were all intact. Archaeologists believe that the line of statues once continued much farther than what is presently there.

Turning my attention to the Temple, one is easily overwhelmed by the quality and size of the entrance. There is such an overwhelming feeling of surreality. The obelisk, the statues guarding the doorway, and the awesome size of the outer temple walls leave a tremendous impression. It looks so much like a dream or a virtual-reality; computer-generated image that I scarcely believe it’s there at all. As I gaze at the scene, I am also reminded here of the movie, “Stargate”, which contained graphical representations of Ancient Egypt. That same spooky, “What’s going to Happen” feeling is in the air right now, and I am even experiencing some fear at the moment. There is quite a bazaar spirit in this place.

Journal excerpt – Luxor Museum: Among the most interesting objects here is the large bust of Akhenaten and the wall mural of Akhenaten, Nefertiti, and his children offering sacrifices to the Aten. There was also a large, gold bull with black features that I believe was taken from the tomb of Tut. I got evil vibes of that thing, man . . . gives me the shivers just thinking about it.

Journal excerpt – Thought of the day for 6/1/01: I was overwhelmed with what I saw at Karnak and Luxor. My most profound thought today was that if I were to build a temple to honor God (and I lived many millennia ago and had unlimited power and resources), I would probably build a temple like the ones that I saw today. I was very impressed with the apparent purity of their acts of worship. Unfortunately, they were misguided, because they honored pagan gods, rather than the one, true God. However, their devotion was impressive.

Symbolism was a very important part of Egyptian culture and is dispersed throughout the temples and ruins of ancient Thebes. The Nile River symbolized life and it bifurcated not only the land of the pharaohs, but also the very nature of life itself. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Therefore, the City of the living is found on the east banks of the Nile and it contains all of temples to honor the living gods. The West Bank of Thebes contains the cities of the dead and the tombs and mortuary temples where the pharaohs would rule upon their death. It is the West Bank of Thebes, which I would explore on my second day in Luxor.

I woke up early, grabbed some breakfast, and had a wonderful quiet time down by the Nile River. I spent a lot of time down there, as I will explain in more detail later. I told my guide that I would like to start at 7:30AM and he was reasonably prompt at 7:45 (that’s on-time in Egypt). We quickly departed Luxor and headed immediately to the cities of the dead. One of the first things one sees upon crossing the Nile River and nearing the Valley of the Kings is the Colossea of Memnon. These were once incredible works of art, but time, vandalism, and earthquakes have rendered them ruins. From the Colossea, I traveled into the barren, Libyan desert and arrived at the Valley of Kings. We started that portion of the tour around 8:45AM.

Journal excerpt – The Colossea of Memonon: The only thing that can be appreciated from these statues is the mere size of what once was. There is little beauty left in them, as man has so perverted their appearance. Still, they serve as another exercise in imagery as one tries to imagine what they used to look like many years ago. The title, “Colossea” is not a misnomer in this instance. These statues are massive.

Journal excerpt – The Valley of the Kings: This odd graveyard has me puzzled beyond mere inquisition. Why would anyone think they could attain eternal life out here. There is nothing but death here. No plants, no water, no organization, just a huge collection of rock heaps and desert sands. What a strange exercise! The tombs are richly adorned with beautiful, colored hieroglyphs, paintings, drawings, representations, and an incredible array of spells and puzzles. And all hidden from the public, to be enjoyed by the King in the afterlife. . . huh? This makes no sense. I know what the ancient Egyptians of the day believed, but it’s just so silly. Are people really that gullible? I guess you would just have to be here and tour the tombs to understand what I’m experiencing. I saw Tut’s tomb and that of Horemheb (one of my favorites from my favorite movie, “the Egyptian.”)

I was also amazed here by the beauty and detailed designing of the artful expressions contained inside the tombs. Still very colorful and bold, these paintings, drawings, etchings, etc. tell a unique story that has lasted for millennia. I am greatly intrigued by the hieroglyphs and storylines. As my guide explains some of the features, I see a deeply complex and intelligent society materializing. Unfortunately, the misguided nature of their effort is troublesome.

The Egyptians believed there were many traps in the afterlife. Enemies in the present life may follow one into the afterlife as well. Therefore, the pharaoh had at his disposal spells, incantations, and powers to help hem. The inscriptions on the side of his burial chambers would protect him. Enemies were painted on his walls bound in chains, headless, sometimes upside down, and often without shadows (symbolizing no power in the afterlife). A series of gods would teach the pharaoh spells to get through the different stages of death when the time was appropriate.

The Ramasseum is most notable for the huge statue of Ramses II that has fallen in the inner courtyard. Ramses II, who was the probable pharaoh at the time of the exodus and was portrayed by actor Yul Brenner in the Ten Commandments, erected a statue to himself in this arena. It is the largest known statue cut from a single block of stone. The statue weighs over 100 tons and fell victim to an earthquake many years ago. The famous poet Shelley

Journal excerpt – The Ramasseum: This temple, home to the heaviest statue in the world, is touted as the masterpiece of Ramses II. Unfortunately, it has been badly damaged. The statue, baking in the unrelenting Egyptian sun, is impressive. However, my overall impression of this temple is one of being overrated. However, I did find a number of columns in the back hallway that were truly awesome. Even after almost 5,000 years, they retain their original colors and give a delectable taste of what these palaces used to look like in their day.

Journal excerpt – Medinat Habu: A definite highlight of my West Bank excursion, this temple lies nearly forgotten amongst the masses of popular spots in the City of the Dead. I can never remember feeling so stupid in all my life. What do you say? The shear size and preservation of this temple is incredible!!! Why are there great lines at Karnak and Luxor, while this temple lies abandoned? Standing in the doorway is an awe-inspiring endeavor. The huge, perfectly preserved temple is so grand and so pristine and so lonely. A few birds chirping, a few tourist footsteps, and a lonely sand whistle echo through the acoustics; through inner hallways and corridors, while surrounded by strong walls that look as if they could still withstand a mighty and forceful assault. The colors in the inner courts are simply awe-inspiring. Shaded from the hot, Egyptian sun, it looks as if some of the ancient painters put down their brushes yesterday. Bright gold, reds, and blues litter the ceilings and shadows. This place is truly special to me.

I spent the evening at the Karnak Laser Light Show. Unfortunately, few of my photos from this event turned out well. Overall, it was a neat program and I felt it was well worth it to attend. Karnak Temple takes on an entirely new dimension when it is lit up at night. However, the overall paganism of the gods of the temple and the narration of the program was quite unnerving. The tour required us to do a “walk through” of the temple and the narration occurred at different areas. The script continually praised Amun, the King of the Gods and proclaimed that there was none greater; there was none more powerful, etc. I honestly found myself singing, “I will glory in my redeemer, my Savior lives, my debt He paid” and other words mainly from that PDI song. I was so into worshipping, that I was even raising my hands as I walked through the dark to the next area of the tour. I began at one point to sing softly out loud. It just seemed that the nature of the moment REQUIRED that the name and attributes of the one, true God be proclaimed by someone. I was grateful to be that someone on this occasion.

Journal excerpt – Thought of the day for 6/2/01: I have been struck today by the power of fear. Pharaonic Egypt was built on fear, especially fear of the afterlife. In Christ, we do not fear death. Ancient Pharaohs controlled people largely through building massive, intimidating temples, powerful and terrifying legends, and creating an order of society that oppressed heretical beliefs and dissention. God tells us of the power of fear frequently in the Scriptures. Moses told his people in Exodus 20:20, “ . . . the fear of God will be with you to keep you from sinning" and in Psalms 111:10 it says, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom.” Fear is a powerful emotion that I’m not certain I have much understanding of.

6/3/01

My final day in Luxor was mainly a day of reflection and relaxation before traveling on an overnight train to Cairo. I had to check out of my hotel room at noon, so I decided to spend the rest of my final day in Luxor at the pool. Really, I needed the rest. I was so thoroughly exhausted by the 21-hour trip from the States and the two very full days of touring, that I needed a break. A day at the pool was the perfect tonic.

I was able to start the day off with an awesome quiet time, as I had started each of my days in Egypt. On this particular day, I quietly snuck out of my hotel room with my Bible, my journal, and my camera, and went for a pre-dawn walk down by the Nile. The Nile River before sunrise is a beautiful sight. The mountains of the Libyan desert catch the first rays of light and the haze of the morning air covers the river basin. It is a quiet and holy time. Down by the river, I read extensively from the Books of the Law. I meditated on the story of Moses, cast adrift in a reed boat on the same Nile that I gazed at with my own eyes. I read how he returned and cursed this same Nile, turning it to blood from one side to the other. If archeological accounts are true, the pharaoh who Moses would have confronted would be Ramses II, who lived here in Thebes. That would mean that not only did he curse this same river, but he would have done it somewhere here in what is now Luxor.

The richness of these times simply cannot be measured. My quiet times in Egypt were intense and deep and I felt a depth that I had not experienced in a long time. Egypt is real. It is no longer a place in the Bible that I read about on occasion. It lives.

Journal excerpt – “sitting by the pool” : Even though I am sitting here in the shade, the noon heat is oppressive. The beautiful, yet ominous far bank of the Nile, that houses the necropolises (the cities of the dead), is barely visible through the hazy, heat-induced fog. Although I have loved it here, I must admit that I am completely ready to leave. I have seen the best of Luxor and I am ready to move on to Cairo and then Israel. I must disclose that I am fairly concerned over the situation in Israel. There was a major death of a top Palestinian official on Friday, followed by a tragic, suicide bombing on Saturday that killed 19 and wounded 120. A bomber in Tel Aviv apparently walked into a crowd of young people outside a disco and blew himself to pieces. Experts are speculating whether this will lead to a major war in the Middle East. This is the atmosphere I am about to enter.

Journal excerpt – “A note on music”: Sitting here by the pool, the hotel guests are “treated” to various musical selections over the loud speaker. Almost all of the music is American. I encountered a similar situation three years ago in Greece. I think it is only fair to have American music everywhere in the world. I mean, why should American citizens be the only ones who have to suffer through Kenny G? Anyway, a funny thing happened a moment ago when they were playing a compilation of songs by Whitney Houston who is not one of my more favorite performers. On her compilation was a recording of, “Jesus Loves Me” which is outlawed and cannot be sung in public in this intense and rigid Islamic country. They never caught their mistake and the song played all the way through. Who knows, perhaps God allowed the song to be sung just for me. It was very beautiful and has given me a spirit of worship. Then again, the fact that Whitney was singing it brings me to the following tomb-related question, “Does Whitney Houston exist in the afterlife, and is there a priestly spell to get rid of her?” If I were a pharaonic king, my tomb would be littered with images of Whitney Houston upside down, without a head, bound, and trapped in her own personal cave without a shadow . . . and that goes for Elton John to boot!

Unfortunately, I got very sick in the evening after eating at McDonalds and had some real “health issues” before starting my overnight train ride to Cairo. It was all very alarming. I was very apprehensive concerning the trip and the last thing I needed on my adventure was a “sick sensation” accompanying me on my journey. By the time the train was to leave, I was feeling much better. I was tired and fatigued, but otherwise, felt pretty decent.

6/4/01 - Traveling from Luxor to Cairo, Egypt

I woke up at 6:30AM for a morning quiet time that I had planned for several weeks. I had planned to read from the book of Genesis, as I caught an overnight train from Luxor to Cairo, which was scheduled to arrive in the early morning on 6/4/0 (Monday). The train ride was a rough one, despite the fact that I had a personal sleeping compartment all to myself. Rising from my bed and tired beyond words, I began reading the account of Joseph at the end of Genesis. The sun had not yet risen over the Arabian Desert, and the pre-dawn fog still flooded the plush farmlands that lined the Nile. The countryside was remarkably “blue” before its pending illumination, and the distant palms and crops peaking out through the hazy curtain stirred in me a surreal and haunting emotion. As we proceeded past towns and villages and homesteads that have not changed for centuries, I continued to read the story of Joseph and gaze out into the very land that Joseph administered for Pharaoh. To think that Joseph controlled all of the land I was viewing! It was a powerful feeling and I was overcome with emotion.

At 7:30, I was served breakfast and began to get apprehensive about my arrival in Cairo. Unbeknownst to me, and not told to me by my travel agent in the States or in Egypt, there are two train stations in Cairo. There is one station in Giza and another station in the heart of the city. A relative of mine was scheduled to meet me at “the train station” and now that I have been told there are two stations, I was beginning to get nervous that I might pick the wrong station.

Entering the city was an disconcerting affair. The poverty and depressive look of the city outskirts were only surpassed by the innards of this urbania. I wondered how people could live in such filth. When we reached the Giza station, I peaked out and did not see my cousin Donald, so I decided to ride through to the other station. Upon my arrival at this locale, I was upset to see that he was not there to meet me either. After leaving the track and entering the main station, I did not find my friend and started to get concerned. I was the ONLY white person amongst literally THOUSANDS of Islamic people scurrying about the cramped confines of the station. After making my way to the outer areas and seeing that my cousin was not there, I realized that I was not in a good place. Luckily, I had Don’s phone number and address, so I could try to contact him. It wasn’t long before the security police approached me.

Obviously lost and wreaking of a tourist about to be jumped, the security police asked me in broken English what was going on and I tried to explain to them that someone was meeting me. They told me to wait near them so I would be safe. I sat in the station for about 30 minutes, but no one arrived. I then tried to talk to the security police and managed to explain to them that I wanted to make a phone call. They helped me exchange some small currency and I tried for about 10 minutes to call. They insisted that I leave my stuff with them, which made me very apprehensive. Finally, I did leave my main suitcase, but took my valuables with me to prepare for the worst-case-scenario that my main bag “walked off.” After trying repeatedly to call, I finally got through, however, the number was wrong and I accidentally woke up some lady. I tried again, but this time I got a man, who screamed at me in an Islamic tongue. Realizing that I had the wrong number, I wondered if I should try to go to the address I had written down. I remember that my cousin said that he would be moving around the time that I was arriving. I figured that this had probably happened, since the phone number was wrong. Therefore, If I went to the address that I had for Don and he was nowhere to be found, I would REALLY be in trouble. I decided it was best to stay put.

Fear began to set in at this point as I realized that I was truly alone and in a bad place. I sat on my bag, alone in the Cairo train station, for the next hour. I have never felt so scared in my life. I wasn’t panicking, but I was very scared. I was alone and it seemed the only option available to me was to wait for my cousin, who may be at the Giza train station or Lord knows where else. I knew intellectually that God was with me and I did say a prayer or two and remind myself that he was near. Still, my prayers did little to calm my nerves. Muslims began praying right in front of me at one point as the minarets called the masses to prayer while I was waiting. In light of the situation between Muslims and Christians, I was worried that they might get enraged in their prayers and walk over and confront me . . . or worse. I can’t say that I have experienced much fear in my life. I’m sheltered from much of that in America. However, I experienced genuine fear in the Cairo train station.

After an hour of waiting, I again spoke to the security police. I asked them if they could help me purchase an “international” phone card. They helped me. With the phone card, I was able to call the United States and luckily, I was able to get in contact with my mother who had not yet left for work. I explained the situation to her and she told me that Don had e-mailed her with his new contact info (I did not have access to e-mail at this stage of my trip. I told her that she needed to contact him and tell him where I was. She said she would. At this point, I felt much better, because at least someone knew where I was. I called back after 15 minutes and my mother was able to get in contact with Don. She said that he would be there in 30 minutes. Thus ended my ordeal. The half hour went by in no time and after a 30 minute cab ride, I finally arrived at the home of my relatives, Sylvia and Don Barlow.

The Barlow’s are awesome people, as I had never before met them personally. I think the last time they had seen me I was just a little boy. When I started planning my trip to Egypt, I remembered that they lived there and contacted them. They were both enthusiastic about the prospects of me coming to stay with them for a short time. I was able to spend a little time talking with them before heading off to a short nap. It was still morning when I laid down for to take a nap, and when I awoke, it was 7PM. Oddly enough, I was still tired. When I awoke, Sylvia and Don had gone out and purchased Kentucky Fried Chicken and Coca-Cola. Oh, the beauty and divinity of American fast food!!!! REAL food, after the junk I had been subsisting on for the past four days, was a godsend! (take note, for this may be the only time you ever hear KFC described as “real food”).

I really enjoyed talking and getting to know Sylvia and Don. They are so incredibly cool. Don is very funny and always eager to laugh. Sylvia drips with sweetness and her smile lights up every room she enters. Together, they were such a blessing to me and got me through my first day in Cairo and eventually the rest of the week as well. I only stayed up for an hour or two and then I returned to bed. Sunday by the pool had really taken its toll on me and I was a little burned, definitely dehydrated, and the sickness I had experienced at the hotel and on the train did not help matters.

6/5/01

Tuesday was scheduled as another day of rest (remember, this was also a vacation!) I was still recovering from my long list of discomforts, so I decided to stay around the house. I woke up very early at 4:30AM as I have been doing regularly, which coincides non-coincidently with the Muslim call to worship. To me, it was like doing combat. The Muslims were praying to their God, it was time to lift up the true One. I also sent my first e-mails on this morning, which worked out to be a good time to check my account. I basically spent the day sleeping a lot and watching the BBC, which was the only English channel we were receiving. That evening, Don took me out to a local restaurant that was owned and operated by an American couple. I gained a new appreciation for America as I was constantly craving US food. Everything else in Egypt seemed to make me sick.

Excerpts from an e-mail sent to friends on 6/5/01 – I have had a rather tumultuous trip thus far, however my Father has been faithful. They almost cancelled my flight from NYC to Cairo, which would have ruined the first part of my trip . . . Then I was stranded at the train station for 3 hours in Cairo, because of a mis-coordination with my relatives who live here. I have never been so scared and helpless in all of my memories. I knew that I was not alone, and I tried not to panic, but I was very scared. Since that event, I have been gripped by fear for the last 2 days and have not desired to leave the apartment here. I am not used to living in fear, and I haven't adjusted to it well. I have been comforted through Psalm 46:1-2 and verse 10 and I believe that I will feel better in short time.

I managed to speak with Gil in Bethlehem, and he has assured me that he will meet me at the airport this Friday at 5:45PM and will take me back to Bethlehem with him. Gil had previously said he couldn't make it, and I would have to find my own way into Palestinian Occupied Territory, which had me very nervous, especially since they shut down the border to all Palestinian travelers a short time ago. However, Gil has an American passport, and will be able to go and meet me. That will be a MAJOR help to me. Terrible things have happened in the region recently, so I am also concerned. I may have to limit my travels while in Israel so that I maximize my safety.

Thank you for your prayers. I implore you to continue to pray for me to make all of my connections well, and I thank you in advance for doing so. My health has not been good. I have sunburn, a fair amount of fatigue (including jet-lag), and have had some stomach and intestinal problems (I think you know what I’m talking about). However, I am surviving and have been enjoying my time here. Oddly enough, I haven't thought very much about home in the States. I am very focused on my time here. My Father is accomplishing many purposes in my life and teaching me new things each moment. I am trying to loose myself totally in His will. I don't know that I have felt much closer to Him than I do now.

I have been keeping odd hours on my trip thus far. I have been waking up routinely at 4:30AM and have had significantly lengthy quiet times (usually 1.5 to 2 hours.) My ferverency has been heightened by my need, and I have been brought closer to Him as a result. Two of my quiet times this week were especially emotional (I am still recovering from them) . . .I have already been in tears several times, as I have read the scriptures and experienced things I have never felt before. I cannot continue now, but at a later time, I will. Until then, please be in constant prayer for me.

Danger still abounds here in Egypt. On my way here to Egypt, a group of English-speaking Egyptian residents told me about the recent and highly publicized threat by terrorist Osama Bin Laddin.

Apparently, he has threatened to target and murder American tourists in Egypt. What a wonderful news item to hear as you are waiting in the Cairo airport with a 9 day "tour" of Egypt before you. Anyway,

security here has been EXTREMELY TIGHT as they anticipate Bin Laddin's next move. Tourism is their #2 source of income here and they were TERRIBLY affected after the terrorist bombing at the Pyramids several years ago. Without the tourists, Cairo suffers BADLY. Therefore, there are police officers EVERYWHERE! - Almost on every street corner throughout the city. In fact, in most parts of Cairo, there are more police officers than traffic lights. Every government building is swamped with guards . . . The government is taking EVERY precaution to keep things safe.

Journal excerpt – Tomorrow, I would like to go on my first grand tour and spend the day seeing the pyramids. Don has told me about a friend of his who sometimes helps him learn the Egyptian language and who is an excellent tour guide. His name is Ibrahim Morgan and Don has arranged for Ibrahim to meet me at the subway station in the morning. I am hoping to see at least the Pyramids, the Sphinx, and the Egyptian Museum. Anything else would be a bonus.

6/6/01-I woke up early again on Wednesday and had an excellent quiet time. I had trouble sleeping during the week, and this particular night was the worst. I’m sure that anticipation over the pyramids had much to do with it as well as the anxiety, fear, and apprehension I had been experiencing. I took special time to meditate on Psalm 45:

Listen to my prayer, O God, do not ignore my plea; hear me and answer me. My thoughts trouble me and I am distraught at the voice of the enemy, at the stares of the wicked; for they bring down suffering upon me and revile me in their anger. My heart is in anguish within me; the terrors of death assail me. Fear and trembling have beset me; horror has overwhelmed me . . .for I see violence and strife in the city. Day and night they prowl about on its walls; malice and abuse are within it. Destructive forces are at work in the city; threats and lies never leave its streets . . .But I call to God, and the LORD saves me. Evening, morning and noon I cry out in distress, and he hears my voice. . .Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall. But you, O God, will bring down the wicked into the pit of corruption; bloodthirsty and deceitful men will not live out half their days. But as for me, I trust in you.

I met Ibrahim at an Egyptian subway station nearby and he was exactly how my cousin had described him. Ibrahim was very friendly and seemed to have an excellent personality. He had arranged for us to have a car for the day so we wouldn’t need to worry about getting around. One of the first things Ibrahim did was to ask me in what order I wanted to see the sites. He suggested going to the Egyptian Museum first, which was the normal progression of tours. However, I felt the Pyramids was the BIG ENCHILLADA and I wanted badly to see the good stuff first. I was also concerned about the heat. My reasoning was simple, why fry? So, we headed off to the Pyramids and spent several hours there touring the Pyramids, the Solar Boat, and the Sphinx. They were incredible.

Journal Excerpt – “The Pyramids”Approaching these Titans is quite a humbling experience. Towering high and far above, when the Pyramids get big, everything else gets very small. Rooted in sand not one hundred yards from here, I see now why some have said, “the Pyramids were constructed by aliens.” It all seems very logical now. Reasonable is the question, “What on earth could possibly create something this grand?”; The answer, “nothing” sensible as well. All of the quotes, all of the history, everything I have written and heard about the Pyramids in my 29 years have become rational in the span of 45 seconds. My propensity to question is only outpaced by my desire to stand here like a moron with my jaw open. I can see now the wonder that these objects provoke. Standing here, something about the Pyramids just doesn’t make sense. The indicative word is, “why?” My responsive word is, “huh?” In other words, I ask myself the question, “what about this picture doesn’t fit” The answer is clearly, “The Pyramids.” There is nothing here. There is sand and there is desolation and then there are 2.3 million blocks of perfectly stacked, giant stones weighing a combined 12,000,000,000 pounds, perfectly aligned to the compass after 5,000 years. What am I missing?

http://www.skeptics.com.au/journal/paramyth.htm

Ibrahim asked me if I wanted to go inside and said he would wait for me if I wanted to go in. I almost didn’t go inside, because I had read that there wasn’t much to see inside and it cost nearly 10 dollars to enter. However, I figured that I might as well pay the money if for no other reason than to be able to say that I had done it. So, I went in. It turned out to be the highlight of the day. At first, I was concerned since the passages were small and I am a bit claustrophobic. However, after the initial squeeze or two, I was infused with this incredible thought, “THIS IS AWESOME, I’M INDIANA JONES!!!!!!” Of course, what is written about the Great Pyramid is essentially true. There is almost nothing of value to see inside. Still, it’s an incredibly neat experience. If you ever go to Cairo, make sure you don’t miss the opportunity to go inside the Great Pyramid.

“We also mention the Pyramids. . . that idle and foolish exhibition of royal wealth. For the cause of most assigned for their construction is an intention on the part of those kings to exhaust their treasures, rather than leave them to successors or plotting rivals, or to keep the people from their idleness.” Pliny the Elder, circa 50 AD

“Soldiers, 40 centuries of history look down upon you from these Pyramids” – Napoleon, readying his troops for battle at Giza, July 21, 1798

“The Pyramids were a quarter of a mile away, impressive by sheer bulk and reputation; it felt odd to be living at such close quarters with anything quite so famous – it was like having the Prince of Wales at the next table in a restaurant; one kept pretending not to notice, while all the time glancing furtively to see if they were still there.” – Evelyn Waugh, 1929

“The Pyramids look as if they would wear out the air, boring holes in it all day long.” - Florence Nightingale, 1840s

“Back to the tent, skirting the base of the Pyramid at Khephren, which seems to me inordinately huge and completely sheer; it’s like a cliff, like a thing of nature, a mountain – as though it had been created just as it is, and with something terrible about it as if it were going to crush you.” - Gustave Flaubert, 1849

and my personal favorite,

“Very big, very old.” – camel owner, 1999

After my experience inside the Great Pyramid, I was driven around its massive base and visited the incredible Solar Boat. The Solar Boat was the mythological vehicle, which would transport the Pharaoh/God to the heavens after his death. A complete ship was built and then dismantled and stored carefully outside the pyramid. The ancients believed that the Gods would resurrect the fallen king and help him rebuild the ship, which would transport him up to the sun where he would join with the other Gods on their daily races across the skies. The remarkable wooden boat was preserved in the hot, Egyptian sand and evokes a power and majesty suitable for such a function.

The Pyramid of Khafre was closed when I was there, as the rotating schedule stipulates. The Pyramids are constantly being restored and are shut down continually such that only two pyramids at a time are ever open to the public. I was very impressed by this pyramid and its limestone cap evoked an incredible power that is lost in the Great Pyramid. Although the Pyramid of Khafre often appears larger than the “Great”

Pyramid, it is important to note that it is not. The Great Pyramid is much larger. However, Khafre is built strategically on higher ground, which makes it appear larger to the eye from many perspectives.

There is a panorama at the end of the Giza complex that attracts a lot of attention. It’s an overlook of the entire area. From this vantage point, one can take excellent photos (when it’s clear) and there are plenty of vendors willing to see trinkets and an occasional camel ride. Not wanting to miss out on such an experience, I sprung for a walk-around; a shaky decision at best. Not only did I nearly fall off and break my neck when the beast stood up, but I wondered if I would ever again feel clean and further worried that I had discovered the source of several Mid-eastern plague bacteria. With all of the said, it was a neat experience. Seldom does one get the opportunity to do such a thing as grand as ride a camel by the pyramids.

I had earlier gone in the smallest of the three pyramids and enjoyed once again, the “Indiana Jones” effect of hands-on archaeology. However, as art often imitates life, the sequel was no match for the original and it had little effect on me beyond reinforcement. The Sphinx was another matter. Not far from the base of Khafre and close to each of the pyramid complexes peacefully lies perhaps the most recognizable and certainly one of the largest faces on the planet. It took me by surprise when I first saw it. Cascading down a parallel access road, we were driving along, and suddenly . . .it was just there. Perhaps it was the contrast with the pyramids, which drew my amazement. Yet, it wouldn’t seem something as large as the Sphinx could “hide” anywhere. I didn’t see it and then it was there.

My friend Ibrahim claimed kinship with this wily edifice. An ancient coat of arms of his family displays a representation of the Sphinx. Because of this fact, Ibrahim believes that either one of his early relatives helped build the Sphinx, or one of them was a model for the face of the Sphinx. Of course, we will never know. Personally, I find the traditional mystery to be more engaging. Riddle me this, what came from a far away land, experienced gastro-intestinal nausea from Egyptian drinking water, was sunburned in the Libyan desert, and fought off camel spate while avoiding Bin Laden groupies? The answer is clear if you think about it.

So, why is the Sphinx the ultimate of creatures? That is no riddle. The Sphinx has the body of a lion and the head of a man. On the continent of Africa, there is no creature as strong as a lion. On the planet of earth, there is no being wiser than a man. Therefore, this combination of man and beast is more perfect than peanut butter and chocolate, cookies and cream, or raw fish and cooked rice.

The real mystery is what the Sphinx is doing there. Many have speculated that it is guarding something, while others have come up with their own ideas. Regardless of what the answer is, I felt privileged to see what was left of it. Standing in its presence, I certainly felt a special emotion. Not one of apprehension, and certainly not one of fear, but more so one of animation. The amazing Sphinx stood beside me gazing outward as it has for centuries and I returned the favor and marveled at its ongoing beauty and subsistence.

From Giza, Ibrahim and I traveled to a nearby restaurant where I bought him lunch (that was part of the deal.) I enjoyed a traditional Islamic meal, which always starts with a variety of small appetizers, which consist mainly of small vegetables, meatballs, and sauces, which are usually dips for fresh, baked bread from a stone-hearth, open-air oven. The main course was a shish kabob barbeque chicken cooked over an open fire. However, the highlight of the meal was not the food, but the conversation. I really bonded with Ibrahim during the meal and we became great friends. I found that we were really not that different in many respects. We both had similar goals and desires.

Ibrahim was a Christian, in an overwhelmingly Muslim nation. His parents both died of cancer when he was young, and he has been persecuted severely for his faith in God. Even today, he cannot get a job, because of his Christian faith. I also found that Ibrahim’s life was miraculously spared by God. On November 17, 1997, he was scheduled to be one of the tour guides for a group touring in Luxor. The normal tour agenda includes trips to Luxor, Karnak, the Valley of the Kings, Hatshepsut’s temple, etc. Fortunately for Ibrahim, he ended up being diverted and did not take the tour that day. It was on that day, at the temple of Hatshepsut that a band of six Islamic extremists, possibly funded by Osama Bin Laden broke through the simplistic and insufficient security and gunned down everyone in sight. In a matter of

minutes, sixty-eight people had been murdered and lay cut to pieces in pools of blood. The “Luxor Massacre” as it has come to be known claimed mostly Swiss tourists. The slayings included four couples on their honeymoon, a young mother and her baby, and a little Japanese girl who was so terrified that she stood wide-eyed in clear view with her arms stretched out to the side as the terrorists went on their rampage. When the terrorists got to her they shot her in the head at point blank range. The killings were perpetrated in the name of Islam and were part of a series of terrorist attacks to ravage Egypt in recent years. Luckily, Ibrahim was not among these victims as God spared his life on that day.

Ibrahim was one of the warmest, funniest, and most sincerely joyful people that I met while in Egypt. We became great friends in a very short period of time. At one point, I asked Ibrahim what he wanted for his life. He listed many simple things. Oddly enough, they were all things that I already enjoyed and took for granted on a regular basis. Talking to Ibrahim, I determined that there was only one major goal that he said he wanted; that I too wanted. Ibrahim said, that he wanted to meet a wonderful woman and get married . . . and I too. The conversation was both humbling and well as enlightening. At 29 years of age (I being nearly 29) we had almost everything in common. In fact, in a way, I saw myself in another land.

Our final stop of the day was the famous Egyptian Museum in Cairo. Here lies the greatest wealth of Egypt in a single locale. Scores and scores of figures, statues, mummies, utensils, masks, etc. from all over Egypt have been preserved and displayed in the museum. Ibrahim’s tour was thorough and informative. Of all the rooms, I saw in the temple, by far the room that was to me most inspiring was the Amarna Room (Room #3). The Amarna Room contained the great treasures of the Amarna period, which was defined by the heretical king Akhenaten. Puzzled by the riddle of Akhenaten, I was fascinated by the riches contained throughout his area. The colossi of Akhenaten was by far the most obvious and dazzling art form, but I was more amazed and taken by the bust of Nefertiti. The craftsmanship of the image was exceptional, as I had read it would be. There was more pieces and history dedicated to Akhenaten in that one room than anywhere else I had ever been. My interest in him was spurred onward by this encounter.

The other notable elements in the Cairo museum were that of the riches of King Tut. The son and successor to Akhenaten, Tutankhamun’s treasures evoke both the power and majesty of ancient Egypt. I had not had much of an emotional attraction to Tut before, but it was hard not to become entranced when gazing into the eyes of the boy pharaoh (or as the more rustic dragomen bitterly tagged him; “the Lucky-Boy Pharaoh”). Tut’s death mask had traveled the world with great fanfare and I found myself nearly alone with the mask in its dark chamber with all lights focused on its gold exterior. Standing before it, gazing intently through a thin glass barrier, one was a mere few inches from its face. The throbbing power emanating from its glare was pretty intense and inspired a certain awe that I will remember. The Egyptian Museum definitely has a flair for the dramatic.

In the evening hours, I proved that there is some mainstay of capitalism left in the world as I was able to go out to dinner with Don and some of his friends to an Applebee’s on the Nile. Although I craved a steak fajita, I stuck to chicken. . . it seemed to be the only safe food for me during my stay.

Pyramid basics:

The Great Pyramid is built very coincidently right on top of a solid granite mountain. The Giza Plateau has a fairly level granite bedrock base, in essence, a flat topped mountain. Other regions near the Great Pyramid could not have supported the immense weight of the structure.

The Great Pyramid is the most accurately aligned structure in existence and faces true north with only 3/60th of a degree of error. The position of the North Pole moves over time and the pyramid was probably exactly aligned at one time.

The Great Pyramid is located at the exact center of the landmass of the earth. The east/west parallel that crosses the most land and the north/south meridian that crosses the most land intersect in two places on the earth, one in the ocean and the other at the Great Pyramid. With the mantle in place, the Great Pyramid

could be seen from the mountains in Israel and probably the moon as well. Its polished surfaces would have reflected light like a beacon.

The length of a base side is 9131 pyramid inches measured at the mean socket level, or 365.24 pyramid cubits, which is the number of days in a year. The perimeter of the base divided by 100 = 365.24, the number of days in a year. The length of the Antechamber used as the diameter of a circle produces a circumference of 365.242. The length of the granite portion of the floor of the antechamber to the King's Chamber times 2*sqrt(Pi) = 365.242. The ratio of the lengths of the Grand Gallery to the solid diagonal of the King's Chamber times 100 equals the number of days in a tropical year, 365.242.

The outer mantle was composed of 144,000 casing stones, all highly polished and flat to an accuracy of 1/100th of an inch, about 100 inches thick and weighing about 15 tons each with nearly perfect right angles for all six sides. The casing stones weighing as much as 20 tons were placed with an accuracy of 5/1000ths of an inch, and an intentional gap of about 2/100ths of an inch for mortar. The mortar used is of an unknown origin. It has been analyzed and its chemical composition is known but it can't be reproduced. It is stronger than the stone and still holding up today. The cornerstone foundations of the pyramid have ball and socket construction capable of dealing with heat expansion and earthquakes.

The pyramid inch times 100,000,000 equals the speed of the earth around the sun, circa 2600 B.C. The weight of the pyramid is estimated at 5,955,000 tons. Multiplied by 100,000,000 gives a reasonable estimate of the earth's mass. The product of the pyramid's volume and density times 1,000,000,000,000,000 equals the ratio of volume to density of the earth. The average height of land above sea level for the earth is 5449 inches. This is also the height of the pyramid.

If you take the perimeter of the pyramid, and divide it by two times the height, you get a number that is exactly equivalent to the number pi (3.14159...) up to the fifteenth digit.

The first four digits of DF (286.1022) add up to 17, the number of steps up to the entrance of the pyramid. The sum of the digits from 1 to 17 = 153, a number which appears multiple times in the pyramid. Jesus's public ministry lasted 918 days. (153 * 6) The number of fish caught by Jesus's disciples was 153. {John 21} The Grand Gallery is 153 feet long. If the 17 steps up to the entrance were continued to the peak there would be 153 steps. The center seam of the floor in the King's Chamber corresponds to March 4-5, 1945. The bombing of Hiroshima occurred 153 days later.

FIVES

There are 5 sides to a pyramid and 5 corners. There are 5x5 pyramid inches in a Sacred Cubit. The floor of the Queen's Chamber is on the 25th (5x5) course of blocks. The floor of the King's Chamber is 5x5 courses higher than the Queen's Chamber. The niche in the wall of the Queen's Chamber is 5x3 ft. high, it is corbelled with 5 stories, the top is 5x5 inches across, and the inner edge is 5x5 inches from the perpendicular center of the wall containing the niche. The King's Chamber has 5 courses of stone in each of it's 4 walls, and a total of 5x5x4 total stones in it's walls. The King's Chamber has 5 chambers above it. The coffer in the King's Chamber has 5 solid sides. The King's Chamber is 5x10 times the volume of the coffer. 5 cubic pyramid inches of earth of average density has the same mass as 1/(50x50) of the coffer's volume of water at a temperature that is 1/5th the difference between freezing and boiling. The coffer's interior volume is 50*50*50 cubic pyramid inches times 5.7, divided by 10. (5.7 is mean earth density)

SEVENS

The number 7 figures prominently in the Book of Revelation. The height of the Grand Gallery is 7 times the average height of the other passages. The Grand Gallery has 7 overlapping courses forming its sides. The Jubilee passage is 1/7th the length of the horizontal passage to the Queen's Chamber. The Queen's Chamber is a 7-sided room (gable roof is 2 sides). The volume of the peaked area of the Queen's Chamber above the walls is 1/7th the volume of the rest of the chamber from the floor to a level equal to the ceiling of the passageway which enters the chamber.

The 344 ft. length of the Descending Passage provides an angle of view of only +/- 1/3 of a degree. Alpha Draconis has not been in alignment for thousands of years. The next alignment will be with the North Star, Polaris, in about 2004 A.D. Polaris in Greek means "Satan".

References: http://www.hunkler.com/pyramids/pyramid_symbolism.html#prophe

http://aqaffaf.hypermart.net/Pyramids.htm

On the evening of the summer solstice, the sun sets in the exact center of the two largest Giza pyramids. During the winter solstace, the sun precisely traces the head of the Sphinx when viewed from the entrance to the Great Pyramid. Due to the angle of the sides of the pyramid vs. it's latitude, it casts no shadow at noon during the spring equinox.

6/7/01 – Islamic and Coptic Cairo, Nile Cruise

I began my final day in Cairo as I had begun the day before, with a long quiet time with God and a bowl of Raisin Oat Brand cereal. I slept well the night before, which wasn’t routine during my stay in Egypt. The intense activity of the day before probably took a lot out of me. Honestly, I think I was still recovering from viewing the Pyramids. It’s hard to digest something that incredible; something that has been mystifying and awing people for thousands of years.

I decided to hire Ibrahim for a second day as there was still much to see in Cairo. I met him at the subway station and we proceeded to the famous Mohammed Ali Citadel. On the way to the citadel, we passed through the vast Islamic mausoleums of Cairo. Many Muslims prefer to be “buried” above ground in mausoleums and most cemeteries are of this type. Now, there is at present a population crisis in Cairo. There are currently over 12 million residents of the city of Cairo (depending on which census you trust and whether or not you include the region of Giza) and several more million commute everyday into the city. However, the population density is what makes the situation grave. Mexico City, which is the city with the second highest population in the world, has around 13 million people living on 21,000 sq. Km. However, Cairo has over 7 million people living on 214 sq. Km. (as of 1996 - source: http://www.xist.org/cd/ixcd.htm). Therefore, the density of people is stifling. So horrible is the problem that there is no place to put all of the people. In an effort for the needs of basic shelter, tens of thousands of poor families have taken over the mausoleums and now sleep in the tombs. They eat their meals and raise their children in amongst the caskets and stone monuments of the deceased. The road to the citadel slowly winded through scores of these “neighborhoods” and on that road I witnessed poverty that broke my heart; crowds and crowds of people, mountains of refuge and garbage, pool after pool of standing water and animal feces, and diseases and pestilences I couldn’t think of having to bare.

I was in a somber and “eager-to-be-animated” mood when Ibrahim and I arrived at the Citadel. I was hopeful that the Citadel would be a mood-altering tonic for my woeful heart. It did not disappoint. The Mohammed Ali Citadel (as it is sometimes called) was certainly the mosque that floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee. Originally built in 1179 by the legendary Salah el-Din (better known as Saladin) it was added to and reconstructed over the centuries. Under the forceful and assertive Mohammed Ali (not the boxer), the citadel and the city underwent a renaissance in the mid-13th century and became greatly populated. Ali constructed a giant and magnificent Turkish-style mosque on the edifice that today dominates the hillside. The entire citadel is often attributed to him today, although technically only the mosque bears his name.

The exterior of the mosque is alluring and magnificent with two daring spires, which soar heavenward with grace and majesty. The interior is equally impressive. A main dome of distinctly European origin is flanked by four smaller ones, each richly adorned with flowery art, patterned painting, and gold. Initially, the ceiling reminded me of the Basilica de Sam Marco in Venice (although there was little gold in the mosque compared to the basilica). However, the feeling of amazement and awe that I felt there was much like San Marco.

The chandelier was of particular interest and of particularly Islamic design. It hung very low to the ground, yet was connected high above to the very tops of the temple’s ceiling. Seemingly hundreds of wires and chains filled the air holding the structure in place. This proved an annoyance for me as a photographer, but intellectually stimulating for me as a curious student. To further complicate issues, the basketball player in me wanted to jump up and swing on the lighting structures, but I refrained from the temptation.

To enter the main chamber, one had to remove their shoes. This left me barefoot since I was wearing sandals. The thought of what disease fungi were penetrating my feet was troublesome, but I had no choice. Once inside the great dome area, Ibrahim and I sat on the floor in a corner of the mosque and talked. Ibrahim lectured me for well over an hour. Ibrahim explained about the history of the Muslim religion, the history of Cairo, who was Mohammed, where the religion stands today, customs of Islamic societies, the differences between Islam and Christianity, what Muslims believe . . . etc. It was like “Islam 101”. I loved every minute of it. I felt as if I had learned so much in that short time.

After marveling at the mosque’s interior, Ibrahim lead me outside to the beautiful terrace that overlooked the city. The view of Cairo was astounding. Cairo is so vast and so dense; buildings and neighborhoods stretch out as far as the eye can see, only disappearing into the hazy horizon or the edge of the desert. On that day, God once again provided a wonderful treat for me. As it was the day before at the Pyramids, it was remarkably clear in the city. In fact, from the Citadel, we could see the Pyramids. Ibrahim commented that in his many years of being a tour guide, that was only the second time that he has ever been able to see the Pyramids from the Citadel.

After a wonderful, traditional Egyptian lunch at a very clean restaurant that caters to American tourists, Ibrahim took me on a tour of Coptic Cairo. Mohammed only recognized two legitimate religions when he formed Islam: Christianity and Judaism. Islamic culture over the centuries has usually permitted the presence of other religions, provided that they do not try to convert Muslims and that they pay tribute (tributary payments ended some time ago). In Cairo, Christianity has remained despite intense persecution. In fact, Ibrahim told me that his grandfather used to tell him that if there was an 8th Wonder of the World, it would be that there is still Christianity in Egypt.

We toured the “Hanging Church” (el-Moallaqah), which takes its name from the fact that it is built several stories above a street and appears to “hang” there when looked at from the facility. Ibrahim explained the intense symbolism present in many facets of the church. It was fascinating. Since he knows much more than I, I will use his words to describe the significance of the church’s interior.

“If you look up, you will notice that the church looks exactly like an Ark; the Ark of Noah, because the Ark of Noah was the Salvation place. Every Coptic Orthodox church is designed in this way. . .for symbolism. The church is for salvation. . . to save you from the evils of the world outside”

“At the front of the alter, you will see Jesus Christ flanked on each side by His disciples; six on one side and six on the other. Any Coptic Orthodox church must be lifted up on 12 pillars. . . to represent symbolically the 12 disciples.”

“Another element in any Coptic Orthodox church is the curtain that covers the door to the Holy of Holies. . . and this curtain must be made out of pink cloth, because it is through the blood of Jesus Christ that you gain Salvation.

“Another thing is the very famous and pretty Coptic cross. It has the writing Alpha and Omega. . . because Jesus said, “I am the beginning and the end” and then abbreviations for a long sentence which means, “Jesus Christ Son of God is our Savior”. . . embroidered with Gold threads on the curtain.”

We have always been here : Egyptian Christians. We know who are our forefathers. We have always been here. If I were to visit you and go to your house. . . you keep pictures of your family, you might even kiss the picture. We feel related. Somehow along the line, this man or this woman could be my great grandmother or grandfather. . . who had to give up his or her life for my sake to keep the faith. So as a pure Egyptian Christian, I feel related and I keep in my house pictures of these Saints and in the church we keep the relics. . . and sometimes we have even built tombs to remember them. . . and also for the younger generation to come with their parents and to tell them to learn their faith and learn from their forefathers, sometime you may have to be killed to keep your faith.

I was grateful to learn so much about the Copts and hear and learn about the church from someone as passionate about Ibrahim. Perhaps the most significant piece in the church is the beautifully carved pulpit. The pulpit contains one supporting beam in the front (Christ) and then 6 pairs of supporting beams down the side (the disciples). Each of these beams are carved and chiseled from choice alabaster. Incidentally one of the beams is unlike the others and has been made of dark wood (Judas).

Ibrahim also took me through other Coptic areas. We strolled down streets and alleyways and entered churches and marketplaces. I thoroughly enjoyed the history he told me and felt much more at home among these Christians than among the masses of Muslims nearby. Before leaving the area, I purchased a gold necklace pendent and two statues of my favorite pharaoh, Akhenaten from the Old Cairo Bazaar (which is by far the best place to ship in the area – their selection is awesome!)

Ibrahim and I traveled back to my cousin’s house via subway and taxi. The Cairo subway is cheap and efficient and is a wonderful way to travel, especially for someone on a budget. When we returned to my cousin’s, I reluctantly bid Ibrahim farewell. It is such a shame that I will not be able to spend any more time with him. He was an excellent tour guide, a skilled lecturer, and he also became my good friend.

My relatives and I would spend the evening at Lucille’s, where I ate several times during my stay with them. However, we decided to hire a felucca and watch the sunset on a cruise down the Nile River. The weather was perfect and the cruise was very enjoyable. It wasn’t long before my head was bobbing as I tried to stay awake. The waves and the wind were so relaxing that I had to consciously try to stay awake. It only cost around $10 for an hour cruise on the Nile, which is absurdly cheap. My felucca adventure turned out being the perfect end to a wonderful stay in Cairo.

6/8/01 –

I woke up on Friday and carefully packed my things. It wasn’t easy to fit all of what I had in the suitcase so, I managed to leave some of my things with Don. He had some friends who were returning to the states in a couple days who could hand-deliver the package to the mainland (mostly film and souvenirs). Then, I said a thankful goodbye to my cousins Don and Sylvia and headed off to the airport.

But, before I get to that part, let me talk a little about my morning shower (it’s OK, you can read on). I must at least mention in passing that each morning I had the privilege of taking a shower in an “Egyptian” shower. The significance of this is that Egyptian showers do not have special compartments, they simply have a drain somewhere in the bathroom. When you wanted to take a shower, you simply took the top off the drain, stood upright (usually directly in front of the toilet), turned on the water, and let the water flow down the drain – very hard to get used to.

I arrived at the airport early and braced myself for another trip into never-never land. One thing I have learned about Middle East travel: expect the unexpected! Anyway, to arrive to Tel Aviv, I had to catch a flight to Amman, Jordan, sit through an arduous 3-hour layover, and then fly to Tel Aviv. The flight into

Amman landed in the South Terminal and the flight out of Amman left from the south terminal. As I said, I had three hours to make the connection. How difficult could it be? Stay tuned.

Calmness turned into restlessness, and restlessness into concern, and concern into all-out panic, as my flight from Cairo to Amman left 2 ½ hours late. Still, I would have 30 minutes to make the transfer and that was plenty of time, especially since I didn’t have to change terminals. Yet, I was concerned.

When I landed, it took a while to deplane, leaving me with only 15 minutes to catch my connecting flight. Scurrying through the airport, I could not find the Tel Aviv gate on the departure screens. I raced to an information booth and asked where the gate for Tel Aviv was. The gentleman paused and then asked for my ticket. I gave him the ticket. Then he said, “This flight leaves from Amman’s other airport.” My eyes widened in anger. He continued, “Your flight leaves from the south terminal Amman’s other airport. It’s about an hour away from here, you’ll never make it.” Honest to God, the first thought that came into my mind was, “If I could get my hands around the neck of my travel agent . . .”

It gets worse

It was about 4:30PM at the time and my friend Gil Medina was traveling to the Tel Aviv airport to meet me. Therefore, it was essential that I arrive sometime shortly thereafter. Since I was desperate, I asked the gentleman if he could place me on the very next available flight to Tel Aviv. He said, “ no problem . . . the next flight leaves at 12:30 tomorrow.” Again, the first thought that came into my mind was, “If I could get my hands around the neck of my travel agent . . .”

So, here is the long and short of it.

I immigrated to the Kingdom of Jordan.

To do so, I was required to obtain a Visa, go through customs, convert money, find transportation, and find a hotel (and all without the necessity of speaking the language). Of course, in most situations the more important language involves the other kind of Visa (the plastic kind) and I was pleased to see this was no different. I found a hotel for around $60 and it was both comfortable and very clean. Phone service was another matter. They charged $4 a minute to call the United States and $2 a minute to call Israel. I had to tell someone where I was, so I called home for 1 minute to tell my dad that I was alive, and called Gil later to arrange our next day’s meeting. Gil was so gracious; he made me feel at ease with his calm demeanor. He also told me he had been praying for me, which also helped me.

I stayed the night and left the next morning.

Journal Excerpt:

I don’t know what to say, or think, or do, or feel, I am so helpless and alone. I have never felt so alone. Where am I? I am nowhere. I’m so weak, and tired, and hungry, but I can’t eat, I just can’t, I’m too tired and weak. My mind is too convoluted; this must be a dream. It can’t be real. Does anyone know where I am? I’m afraid right now, to the point of tears. I want to cry, I would give anything to cry, but I can’t seem to do that either. I’m so afraid, but not for my health or my life, but for this loneliness. I didn’t know such a brand or extreme of loneliness existed . . . I didn’t know a person could feel so alone. It frightens me beyond words to now know these things . . .This room is oppressive, filled with Demonic Spirits. . .I know God is with me and protecting me, but that is all.

I managed to read through Psalm 55 (again) and Psalm 23:4 definitely became more real that night. I wasn’t feeling very well at all and I hadn’t been eating much. I remember being so very weak. I would later meditate that I had experienced several consecutive incidents of intense loneliness just before entering Israel. Perhaps, God had been preparing me for something.

Oddly enough, for all the calamity of confusion contained within the worst Friday night of my life, the next day would render a comprehensive photonegative. I arrived at the airport without incident, I checked my

bags with ease, I was handed a replacement ticket easily and found my gate with tons of time to spare. While waiting for the flight, a middle-aged Jordanian woman and her daughter started a lengthy conversation with me. They were on their way to New York City, where her daughter was graduating from fashion designer’s school (they had some major $$$$). They spoke perfect English and it was a joy to hear someone who understood my native tongue. Apart from this conversation, I also toured around the airport a bit and made several other observations:

A note on Amman airport:It is difficult not to feel at home here. This airport is cleaner and better organized than many airports in the States. The duty free shops are especially impressive and the service is unbelievable; upscale and trendy, this place reminds me of Nordstrom’s.

A note on Jordanian people:Everyone is helpful and extremely friendly. People here go out of their way to show hospitality and to be helpful. Everyone seems top speak very good English, with only a slight Mid-Eastern accent.

A note on Jordanian woman:Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. . .I have never seen such consistency in appearance. Now that I think about it, it hasn’t just been here at the airport, it seems to be everywhere. They have a very “Middle Eastern” look. . . Dark hair with sophisticated highlights, gorgeous eyes, cute smiles, every one well dressed, and absolutely perfect skin. I’ve never seen anything like their skin. There is either something genetically superior to their skin chromosomes, or they’re cakin’ foundation with a spatula!

I arrived in Tel Aviv on time and Gil was there to meet me. I was very happy to see him. I was surprised at the way he looked, although I knew he would look different. Dressed in his priestly garb, he seemed almost “official.” However, his smile and warm demeanor was still present and that informed me that he was still, “the same ole highman.” The entire day was flawless except for a run-in I had with the Israeli Security Police. I wrote about it in my journal.

Journal Excerpt:When I landed in Israel, I was be-raided and systematically demoralized by the security police, which consisted of a punky and uninformed teenage kid and his supervisor, who incidentally was remarkably close to perfecting the formula for rudeness . . .I was asked scores and scores of questions and I found it very disturbing to feel the suspicion.Where are you coming from?Where are you going to?Why are you going there?Who will you meet there?What do they do?How long has it been since you have seen them?Since they have been in the country, have they ever left?Why should I believe you?What were you doing in Egypt?Why did you not fly directly from Cairo to Tel Aviv?Why did you stop for a night in Jordan?

The two most disturbing comments were :

Q: “Are you aware there is a conflict in Israel? My answer: “Yes, I am aware of the conflict and plan to take special precautions to stay away from the violence.”The answer I wanted to give: “Naw, really? A conflict here? I don’t understand. Israel has been such a place of peace. For centuries, there has been such harmony; I can’t believe you are saying such things. Then again, I’m not perfect, perhaps my cable was out one night and I missed the little incident that interrupted the countless years of overwhelming stability.

Relating to my ill-fated transfer in Jordan – “Why didn’t you tell your travel agency to book you a direct flight - You are an adult (said with sarcasm)

I was not happy with the security police and was held up for almost an hour as they thoroughly examined and interrogated me. It reminded me rather heavily of the gestapos in Nazi Germany. They had no reason to suspect me of anything, but the suspicion was intense. It really disturbed me. In fact, I was quiet the rest of that evening (I also felt pretty sick.)

Gil and I returned to his monastery in Bethlehem and I laid down to take a nap. I got up briefly for dinner, but tried to keep a low profile. I was tired, dehydrated, a little sunburned, and mentally shaken from being stranded in Jordan and be-raided in Israel. What I needed was rest and lots of it. Gil was very kind to let me go to bed early and sleep late the next morning. I slept like a rock! It was wonderful to be safe in the West Bank! (I know that doesn’t right, but it is the truth.)

Sunday 6/10/01 –

My first evening in the Bethlehem Monastery was a curious one. Having arrived from such an ordeal in Jordan, I was in little need of fellowship and much need of rest. Meanwhile, I found that I was a much-anticipated celebrity in the monastery as Gil had been hyping my arrival for some time. Everyone who I encountered was extremely friendly and desirous to get to know me and spend time with me. I wish I could have communicated my desire back to them, but the language of choice in the monastery is Italian and despite my lineage, I am ignorant of this tongue. I tried my best to communicate through smiles and handshakes, and hope that the Friars would understand my desire for friendship. They did.

That first night Gil gave me some of his clothes to wear at dinner so that I would look presentable (Tommy Hillfinger jeans and shirt – leftover from his trip abroad). Shortly after dinner, he took me on the terrace, so I could briefly check out Bethlehem at night. It was overwhelming to be in the city of Christ’s birth and I was so excited to start my journeys. Unfortunately, my body was still troubling me, so Gil graciously let me retire after only ten minutes or so. I snuck back to my room and called it a night.

I slept like a rock.

I woke up the next morning around 7AM and grabbed a snack from the kitchen. The friars have two meals a day (one is at 10AM and the other is at 8PM). There are snacks, fruit, and ingredients for sandwiches, etc. available during the day for anyone who wants them. Believe me – they manage just fine.

Since it was Sunday morning at the monastery, most of the friars were in-and-out of different masses throughout the morning. There are several services held by the Franciscans every Sunday morning to benefit the Christian community in Bethlehem. They also have daily processions to and from the birthplace of Christ, which is believed to be in a grotto in the attached Greek Orthodox Church of the Nativity (the true location of Christ’s birth cannot be confirmed).

I spent the morning in my room, still trying to recover from my ordeal. I didn’t feel very good at lunch and at around 1PM, I took another long nap and ended up sleeping the entire day away until 6PM. When I got up this time, I was feeling more like myself. Cheery and energetic, I had Gil take me back up on the rooftop of the monastery, where I watched my first sunset over Bethlehem. It was incredible. The bustling town of Bethlehem bears little resemblance to the “little” town made famous in Nativity lore. There are buildings, and houses, and traffic, and crowds, and a good deal of noise throughout the day. However, when the sun began its slow decent, and the bright whites turned to passive golds and oranges, and the desert sands sparkled with darker shades of yellow and brown, and the stars of the night sky began to shine onto an indigo horizon, the beauty of modern Bethlehem won me over forever. I soaked up every ounce of the beautiful scenery and marveled at the grace of the landscape encountered by my biblical heroes.

At around 8PM, the local minaret tower warms up and starts screaming Muslim chant. This directly coincides with the Friars dinnertime. Officially called the “Evening Call to Prayer,” I dubbed it the

“Evening Call to Dinner” and would listen for it as a guide to remind me where I was supposed to be. Dinner on this night was a real treat. For the first time in three days I was feeling awake, energetic, not sick to my stomach, and I had a healthy appetite. This evening was the first time that I was able to truly “connect” with the Friars. Several of them spoke decent English and they were the easiest to communicate with for obvious reasons. Gil was gracious to translate for me with some of them. All in all, it was a rewarding experience to eat with them and spend time getting to know them.

After dinner, the Friars have a time that they call “recreation.” During this time, they all go into a large room and spend time together in various pursuits. The seminary students generally gather in small groups and play cards, backgammon, or other small games. The older friars congregate in another circle and talk and laugh. And then there are a few Mavericks. Father Severino usually turns on the television and watches some kind of sports. Auto Racing was a favorite of his while I was there. Father Georgio, Gil, and myself would generally read the newspaper or talk in small groups. It’s a nice little time together and a refreshing way to tone down the day.

After recreation, the older friars return to their room and the younger friars go to a smaller room in the students area and have “extended recreation” which for the most part consists of more television. However, on this night there was a special treat. A large group of the Friars decided to go on a walk through Bethlehem and they wanted me to go with them. So, I decided to go.

As we marched out of the complex, I was extremely fearful for several reasons. First, I was walking through bustling, Arab streets at night and I am white and look suspiciously like a Jew. Second, unlike my Friar friends, I was not wearing a tunic, which identified me as a Friar and this made me extremely uneasy. Third, I am white and look suspiciously like a Jew. Fourth, we were unarmed and we were constantly passing by people who were heavily armed. Fifth, I am white and look suspiciously like a Jew (did I say that one already?) Anyway, my fears were running very high and although I trusted th ejudgement of the Friars, I feared for my life with every step.

What I found surprised me.

It turned out that the Friars in Bethlehem were extremely well loved by the people (both Muslim and Christian). People would see us walking and honk their horns, shout out loud, and one car even stopped and everybody in the car got out to kiss the hand of Father amjad- (Father Amjad is an extremely nice Palestinian Christian who is in charge of the Seminary school). While I was with the Friars I felt extremely safe. Walking around with them was like hanging out with rock stars. It was clear to me that what Gil had been telling me all along was in fact true; “the Franciscan Friars of the Holy Land have been in Bethlehem for seven centuries proclaiming the message of peace through the gospel of Jesus Christ.” The people seemed to respect them for their faith despite whether or not they agreed with the message. It was a neat thing to experience.

While on the walk, I was able to spend some significant time talking to Raffy and Ibrahim who both spoke pretty good English. Raffy was a Palestinian Christian while Ibrahim was Syrian. I found them both to be friendly and funny and I especially appreciated getting to know Ibrahim. We seemed to connect immediately and become good friends.

Walking through the city of Christ’s birth was quite an experience, one that I will never forget. However, the city is not much different structurally from most Middle Eastern cities, and lacks the antiquity one would expect from such a legendary Biblical edifice. Still, there is no denying that this is the city of Christ’s birth and the very knowledge of that fact seems to be carried on the wind. The aura surrounding one’s every step is somehow enhanced by this unavoidable conclusion.

Upon returning to the monastery, I quickly went off to bed. I had hoped that the following day would be a huge day for me, one that I had been planning for a very long time. I knew I would need my rest and wanted to be certain to turn in early.

Monday, June 11th – My 29th Birthday and the height of my pilgrimage journey

June 11, 2001 has been a day I have been waiting for and planning for a long time. When the opportunity to spend time in the Holy Land presented itself, I made certain to plan my trip specifically around this one day. I wanted my 29th birthday to be the first day that I visited Jerusalem. I wrote about it in my journal.

Journal excerpt:It seems so long I’ve been thinking about today and having hoped I would make it this far. Today has been calling me my entire life . . . today has been waiting. The fact that it happens to be my birthday, while planned, is still nearly mere happenstance. The City of David has been sitting for centuries and I eagerly long to enter its gates.

Before this special day was over, I would experience all of the following:1. I woke up in the city of Christ’s birth (Bethlehem) and traveled to the city of Christ’s death

(Jerusalem)2. I visited the Western Wall of the Temple (Wailing Wall) and placed a special prayer request in the

wall that I had written and been praying over for several months.3. I visited Gethsemane4. I slowly walked up the Mount of Olives, touching the mountain where Christ will one day

triumphantly return to earth.5. I fasted throughout the day.

The only portion of the day that I was not able to complete was my desire to walk from Bethlehem to Jerusalem (a distance of about 6 kilometers.) Christian pilgrims have been walking this route for centuries and I too wanted to follow in this tradition. It takes about 2 to 2 1/2 hours to complete the walk. Gil encouraged me not to do the pilgrim’s walk due to the intense heat, my recent fatigue and illnesses, and above all, the unsafe political conditions of the Palestinian Intifada. After all, there is a war going on. I decided to heed this advice.

Instead of walking, I was given a lift from Bethlehem into Jerusalem by some of the Friars, who were running an errand in the city. Gil and Yosef accompanied me on my tour, acting as tour guides, protectors, and friends. I was pleased to have the company. We were left off in the early morning at the Damascus Gate and preceded into the Old City. It was just after 8AM when we arrived and the city had an interesting posture. The crowds that were imminent had not yet arrived and the bustling markets were still rubbing their eyes from the healthy night slumber.

Journal Excerpt:Walking through the Old City at this hour is quite surreal. On cobblestone streets and slated walkways my friends and I silently creep deeper into the city. Silence pervades my mood. There is such an eerie feeling here. The giant flagstones of Biblical times mix with the countless and confusing mazed corridors and passageways to create a feeling that one is inside a living organism. Spooky, almost threatening is my every step, despite the knowledge that my friends are nearby. My anxiety is pretty intense right now. I feel like at any moment a band of Roman soldiers, dressed in full military gear and armaments, could walk around the next corner on patrols. And if that happened, I don’t think I would bat an eyelash . . . it would just seem to fit.

Along our path, we casually pass Station V on the Via Delarosa, where tradition states that Simon was forced to carry Christ’s cross (Matt 27:32.) Then I was reminded that it was through this very city that Christ was marched to His death . . . in order to save my life.

After passing through an intense police checkpoint, my friends and I walked into the Jewish Quarter and arrived shortly thereafter at the Wailing Wall (also known as the Western Wall.) The Western Wall of the Temple is the only remaining portion of the Second Jewish Temple built by Herod over a near-ninety year period from 19BC-66AD. Herod’s temple is actually the third temple if you count the short-lived “second”

temple constructed by Zerubbabel. However, Jewish tradition counts only the temples of Solomon and Herod.

Since the city of Jerusalem was destroyed completely in 70AD and was rebuilt later on top of the old city ruins, the current city is now some 20 feet higher than the ancient city. Therefore, much of the ancient city ruins are found by digging down beneath “modern” Jerusalem. This can be demonstrated with respect to the Western Wall. The portions of the Western Wall that can be approached today are only the top portions. Recent controversial excavations have revealed that the Western Wall actually extends many feet below the ground level and even incorporate portions of territory claimed by the Muslims. These excavations further fan the flames of discord.

To approach the wall, one must wear a head covering out of respect. There are a small number of head coverings provided by the entrance. The Western Wall is such a neat place for many reasons. Christ must have gazed upon this very wall many times. And yet the mournful spirit of Lamentations is here as well, “Lam 1:7-9 - In the days of her affliction and wandering Jerusalem remembers all the treasures that were hers in days of old. When her people fell into enemy hands, there was no one to help her. Her enemies looked at her and laughed at her destruction . . . Her fall was astounding; there was none to comfort her. "Look, O LORD, on my affliction, for the enemy has triumphed."”

For some reason, I was not nearly as emotional when I was there as I had anticipated. It is, afterall, just a wall. However, I was greatly affected by the rigorous and fervent prayers of the Jews who were there. Even at 8:30 in the morning, they were crying out to God in their traditional rocking fashion. The Wall is primarily a place of prayer and I myself added to those prayers. It is customary for visitors to the wall to place prayer requests in the cracks of the wall. I had prepared a very, very special prayer request that I had been praying over and editing for some time. I walked up to the wall, paused for a moment in deep prayer and reflection, and then carefully placed the request within the wall (note: I did this with faith in God, not faith in the Wall.) My prayer is still that God will grant me my request as He desires and has secured for me many good things. Here I feel more than any other place the tension of the Arab-Israeli conflict; tension and turmoil about to come to a head.

After leaving the Temple Mount area, I walked slowly around the outer portion of the Old City Temple through the Dung Gate. The lower portion of the Temple Mount slopes down to the Kidron Valley. It is also during this stretch of my pilgrimage that I can see the Mount of Olives for the first time. Both the Kidron Valley and the Mount of Olives hold extremely great Biblical and Escetological significance.

The Kidron Valley is mentioned eleven times in scripture, but is most noted for several specific events.

King David fled from his son through the Kidron Valley carrying the Ark of the Covenant - 2 Sam 15:14-23 “Then David said to all his officials who were with him in Jerusalem, "Come! We must flee, or none of us will escape from Absalom. We must leave immediately, or he will move quickly to overtake us and bring ruin upon us and put the city to the sword. . . The whole countryside wept aloud as all the people passed by. The king also crossed the Kidron Valley, and all the people moved on toward the desert.”

Christ crossed the Kidron Valley after the last supper and after he was betrayed by Judas - John 18:1 “When he had finished praying, Jesus left with his disciples and crossed the Kidron Valley. On the other side there was an olive grove (Gethsemane), and he and his disciples went into it.”

The Kidron Valley is a continuation of the Valley of Jehoshaphat, which is where God’s Final Judgement will occur - Joel 3:1 'In those days and at that time, when I restore the fortunes of Judah and Jerusalem, I will gather all nations and bring them down to the Valley of Jehoshaphat. There I will enter into judgment against them concerning my inheritance, my people Israel, for they scattered my people among the nations and divided up my land.”

Journal Excerpt – “I have heard much of the Kidron Valley and feel a great privilege to see it for myself. At the base of the Kidron valley lays the Tombs of Absalom and Zechariah. At one time, religious Jews used to throw stones at Absalom’s Tomb in disgust for his rebellion against his father. This section of Jerusalem is one of the few that still exists unchanged from the times of Christ. It is amazing to consider that Christ walked through these same hills and even through this same valley, as the passion was about to commence. Truly amazing! And David, who fled in tears from his own son through this valley, covering his head and walking barefoot. I pause here to consider the depth of sadness that the eyes of this valley have witnessed. Yet, take heart, for those same eyes will one day gaze upon the most triumphant site in history; the return of the risen Savior, Christ Jesus unto the Mount of Olives.”

I continued along the Kidron Valley and made my way to Gethsemane. Perhaps no location on earth more clearly displays the love of Christ than that of the Garden of Gethsemane. For it was at Gethsemane that Christ displayed his complete humanity and in final resolution accepted the will of the Father.

Matt 26:39-43 - Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane . . . and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me." Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will."

The Franciscan Church of All Nations, named because the money needed to build the church was donated from all parts of the world, marks the present-day location of Gethsemane. The church is built over the area where it is believed Christ fell on his face and wept. Of course, this is completely unconfirmed and there is no way to know for sure where the exact location of Gethsemane would have been. This lack of historical certainty did not diminish my emotional reaction to this place.

I arrived in the mid-morning. As I crept through the massive doors, I found only two nuns praying and a Franciscan guarding watch. The large chapel was quiet, peaceful, and reverent. The church was focused around a large rock in the middle of the alter that is said to be the exact spot where Christ fell and wept. Arriving with Gil and Yosef, the Franciscan guardian was very eager to greet me. He spoke perfect English and encouraged me to go up and touch the rock (Access is apparently restricted and not just anyone is allowed to do so.) I wasn’t really interested in doing that, which seemed to amaze my friends who responded, “You don’t want to touch the rock where Christ fell and wept?” I know, I know, what is the matter with me right?

Gil and Yosef had an errand to run within the chapel and I was eager to pray and reflect. They went off into the church and I stayed behind in the chapel. The nuns departed and left me sitting in an immense, yet mostly empty edifice. My thoughts turned totally to Christ.

Journal Excerpt-“I feel so close to Christ here, it’s unbelievable. This is where it all took place. Maybe not here on this rock, maybe not here in this church, but it can’t be very far from here. This is the base of the Mount of Olives and the Bible says Gethsemane was here, somewhere and I know I’m not far from it. Here, the Savior cried out to God in anguish to the point where God sent an angel to strengthen him. His tears were as blood and his intensity was great. Even now, I will never comprehend his love for me on this side of paradise. “

Hungry and mournful, I cried out to God, who has given me life and tried to no avail to understand a small piece of the Savior’s grief. It wasn’t difficult to be emotional. He felt so near there at Gethsemane. It is an amazing place.

After a couple hours at Gethsemane, I started my accent of the Mount of Olives. It was a fairly steep walk and one that was both tiring and emotional.

Journal Excerpt – “I can’t stop thinking that Christ was also here. The fabled Mount of Olives that has seen so much, how can I comprehend it all? Jesus not only came here on occasion, he frequented this hillside. The scriptures talk of the Mount of Olives in a way that leads us to believe that Christ liked this place. It was a place he went to hang out. With Bethany just on the other side of the Mount, Christ certainly walked these very paths. As I have read, the palms for Jesus’ triumphant entrance into Jerusalem probably came form here as well as the location of the Fig tree, which Jesus cursed. What can I say here? I feel so inadequate, God seems so large, I feel so small. As I look towards the summit, I realize that one day Christ himself will return to earth on this very mountain. I imagine now what will one day be. How I wish it were this moment. It’s gunna be awesome!!”

Zec 14:4-7 – “On that day his feet will stand on the Mount of Olives, east of Jerusalem, and the Mount of Olives will be split in two from east to west, forming a great valley, with half of the mountain moving north and half moving south. . .Then the LORD my God will come, and all the holy ones with him. On that day there will be no light, no cold or frost. It will be a unique day, without daytime or nighttime--a day known to the LORD. When evening comes, there will be light.”

Halfway up the slope, one comes upon the world’s largest Jewish cemetery. Stretching as far as one can see around the mountain, countless graves adorn the hillside. It is worth noting that every grave on the mountain lies with its feet facing the Old City of Jerusalem. This is because it is believed that the Messiah will return on the Mount of Olives, and the dead shall rise, and walk with the Christ into the New Jerusalem. Jews are buried feet-first in faith so that the next thing they see will be their Savior leading them into Jerusalem.

Further up the Mount of Olives, lies Dominus Flevit, which means, “Jesus Wept.” This small chapel run by the Franciscans marks the spot where it is believed that Jesus wept for Jerusalem (Luke 19:41.) Luke 19:41 As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it.

The location is sketchy at best, but to me it made a lot of sense. Grabbing a private moment for myself, I myself wept; just as Jesus did. I think that to a certain degree, I felt what he must have felt. There in front of me was all of Jerusalem and one could sense Christ’s love and passion for his own people. And what Christ said in the Temple, just before departing for the Mount of Olives seemed all too true, “Mat 23:37 "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing.”

That is what I felt. It was the love of Christ for this one city of Jerusalem . . . and I too wept as I felt Christ’s love for these people.

Christ’s apocalyptic prophesy of the “Last Days” most likely was inspired by a view similar to this one.

Mat 24:3 As Jesus was sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately. "Tell us," they said, "when will this happen, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?”. . .For many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am the Christ, ' and will deceive many. You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed . . .Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places . . . Then you will be handed over to be persecuted and put to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of me . . .At that time many will turn away from the faith and will betray and hate each other, and many false prophets will appear and deceive many people. Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved. And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come . . . For then there will be great distress, unequaled from the beginning of the world until now--and never to be equaled again . . .If those days had not been cut short, no one would survive, but for the sake of the elect those days will be shortened . . .Immediately after the distress of those days "'the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from the sky, and the heavenly bodies will be shaken. . .At that time the sign of the

Son of Man will appear in the sky, and all the nations of the earth will mourn. They will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of the sky, with power and great glory . . .And he will send his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other . . .Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away. No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”

It was late in the day by the time I had finished my tour and I was very hungry, as I had not been eating. Having seen and experienced several significant sites, I was ready to return to Bethlehem. Gil, Yosef, and I caught a sharut back to Bethlehem and then caught a taxi from the checkpoint to the monastery. It was about 5PM when we got back and I spent the next three hours before dinner praying, weeping, reading scripture, and writing in my journal. God has been so gracious to me.

Tuesday, June 12th

Ein Kerem and the Bethlehem Shepherd’s Fields

After a truly tremendous and special birthday, I did not have too much planned for the 12th. However, opportunities sometimes come along and I decided to take a hold of one. One of the priests (Father Giorgio) happened to be going to Ein Kerem for a good portion of the day and asked if I might like to go along with him. I was grateful for the opportunity.

Ein Kerem is a familiar place to most friars as it is usually where the seminarians spend their first year before being re-assigned to other areas. I had been invited by the friars to go earlier in the week, but was not feeling up to it. I was pleased to get a second chance.

Nestled in the hills north of Jerusalem, Ein Kerem was officially annexed as a northern suburb of Jerusalem some years ago, and today is most noted for the massive Hebrew University and Hadassah-Ein Kerem Medical Center. The largest medical facility in the Middle East, Hadassah touts 12 famous stained glass windows by Chagall depicting the blessings bestowed by Jacob on his sons. The Hebrew University has over 18,000 students and is considered by most to have one of the clearest and most majestic views of the Old City. Unfortunately, I would not have the time or energy to see either.

Father Giorgio and I departed around 8AM. Father Giorgio had been in the Holy Land for about 15 years and was originally from the Washington DC area. It was nice to spend some time talking with him and I appreciated both his well-spoken English as well as his knowledge of my hometown area.

After a brief stop in Jerusalem, we arrived in Ein Kerem at the Church of St. John around 9:30. Ein Kerem is traditionally considered the birthplace of John the Baptist. The church of St. John is in a small valley built over a grotto that contains his birthplace (according to legend.) Halfway up the hillside is a beautiful church, which I was encouraged to visit, which Father Giorgio called, “the Visitation” (more on this spot momentarily). At the top of the hill was the aforementioned Hebrew University and Medical Center. Both the church and the University lie above the beautiful valley of Sorek, which is said to be the exact location where Sampson went down to meet Delilah.

Judg 16:4 And it came to pass afterward, that he (Samson) loved a woman in the valley of Sorek, whose name was Delilah.

The Church of the Visitation marks the spot where Elizabeth and Mary met.

Luke 1:39-42 And Mary arose in those days, and went into the hill country with haste, into a city of Juda. And entered into the house of Zacharias, and saluted Elisabeth. And it came to pass, that, when Elisabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb; and Elisabeth was filled with the Holy Ghost: And she spake out with a loud voice, and said, Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.

The church was like a white gem shimmering on the hillside. Surrounded by lush green trees and an attractive walkway, there was a very beautiful and enticing feeling that drew me to climb up. Father Giorgio was there to teach a music lesson and set me free to wander through the town and hillside. Sparsely populated and fairly far from the West Bank, I felt a pervading peace being alone. I started my trek from the valley up the walkway that eventually lead to the church. Climbing the impressive and ancient stones, one had a beautiful view of the Sorek Valley.

As I approached the top, I marveled at the beautiful church. Somebody in the Catholic faith must have been skilled in the arts of real estate. “Location, location, location” is a popular realty concept and the Catholic church seems to have the best properties no matter where one seems to venture in the Middle East. Although beautiful, something disturbed me about the Church of the Visitation. It was a recurring theme that would echo for the rest of my journey and the rest of my life. I would write about it in my journal.

Journal Excerpt – Since my arrival in the Holy Land, I have been very disturbed to find many shrines and icons dedicated to Saints, Historical figures, and Biblical and extra-Biblical events. I believe in God Almighty, existing eternally in three persons. I believe that the entire focus of our entire life must be on Him. I believe that ANYTHING that distracts our attention from Christ must be destroyed and abandoned. Therefore, what place can shrines and icons have in our Christ-centered lives? I understand the points of debate. I understand them pro and con. Yet, I have seen two churches today in Ein Kerem that both contain giant and beautiful altars, which do not contain images or reference to Christ (beyond crosses). Where then is our faith if Christ is not at the forefront? Who are we worshipping? Do we even have a faith, or a perverted form of polytheism?

I can swear before God with a clear conscience that my devotions are to Him alone. Albeit I am prone to sin and fall from grace, I at least know whose graces I am running back to. My prayers do not rise to the Virgin Mary, or saints, or to any other created entity. My thoughts and meditations are not focused on the Virgin Mary, or saints, or any other created entity. I do not share my heart, make my requests, focus my energies, or hope for Salvation on the Virgin Mary, or saints, or any other created entity. My heart is grieved beyond words and greatly disturbed at the wealth of sacrileges that I have seen today. I believe they undermine much of what the Gospel of Christ seeks to establish. In the Spirit of Jefferson, I swear upon the altar of God eternal hostility upon anything, which distracts man from the uninterrupted and indivisible worship of the one, true God.

Dismayed and discouraged, I departed Ein Kerem after lunch, which the friars at the Church of St. John were gracious enough to serve to Father Giorgio and myself. We returned around 2PM and I took a brief nap and then did some studying and praying.

Dinner is normally served at 8PM in the monastery, yet on this day it would be served earlier at the Shepherd’s Fields to celebrate the end of the seminary term. About 15 minutes away from the Franciscan Monastery lay another Franciscan property on the outskirts of town. Excavations at that spot have revealed the remains of an ancient, Christian church built by the Crusaders and destroyed by the Muslims. Due to its position in the area, it is believed that the Crusaders built the church near the place where the Shepherds were tending their flocks by night and encountered the host of Angels. Due to the lay of the land, this would appear to make sense, but as for most places in the holy Land, we cannot be certain of the exact location.

Gil encouraged me to walk with him to the dinner and many of the other friars decided to do the same. Gil and I had occasion to walk past several heavily armed Palestinian guards. As long as I was with Gil, I felt pretty safe. However, that would change about 5 minutes into our walk. All of a sudden, there was a tremendous thunderstorm. Yet, it was sunny and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I was rather taken back and flinched momentarily. Gil nonchalantly strolled onward. I asked Gil if that was a bomb. He said that they were probably shelling on the other side of the hill, but not to worry because the bombs weren’t landing near us. Very interesting theory, but I am unaccustomed to the real-life repercussions of living in a war zone. I live in a suburb of an American city, I’m 29 years old and have never heard a live shell drop. Gil has seen worse, of course, with the Intifada now 9 months old. By the time we had arrived at the

Shepherd’s Fields, we had heard another couple explosions and there were probably another dozen during the 2-hour dinner.

We decided to drive home from the dinner and it was a very non-eventful trip. Father Severino let me use the computer that evening and I e-mailed home to my friends.

E-mail sent on 6/12/01I spent today at Ein Karin, about 30 minutes north of Jerusalem. I returned in the evening and my friend Gil and I walked down to the traditional Shepherds fields where the friars were planning a nice dinner. While we were walking, the bombs began falling. I have never felt live ammunition fall before, and it is a terrible and hideous feeling to be near the action. It feels like a very angry and profound thunder that shakes and rattles the landscape. However, the reality is that each thunder spells probable death for whoever is unlikely enough to be near the concussion. I am overcome with emotion as I hear and feel the ground shake. My friend Gil doesn’t even flinch, as it is relatively “old hat” to him. Besides, the bombs are not landing near to where we are, and there is a fairly regular routine to the targeting. Still, it is quite the terror for me, and I have been apprehensive for much of the evening (it is 9PM now in Bethlehem.)

Please be in continued prayer for my safety as hostilities occur and tensions run extremely high. You all are in my thoughts and prayers and I miss you very much.”

GenerosityServanthoodLove/camaraderieSharingJoy

Wednesday, June 13th, 2001Relaxing in Bethlehem

I was planning to take an organized tour on this day, but was unable to hook-up with the tour company. Father Amjad had agreed to let one of the friars (Gabi) drive me into the Old City area in one of the friar’s cars. It was a very generous offer that I did not pass up. The tour company was on Jaffa St. and I had to be there at 7:00 AM. We got up very early and left for the tour company. After going through the checkpoint where there were explosions the previous evening, we made our way to Jaffa St. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find the tour company and I missed the tour. However, it was not a total loss. I got the opportunity to get to know Gabi and I am very happy I did. He was extremely nice and funny, and I consider him a good friend.

After returning to Bethlehem, I took a long nap until noon. After lunch, I spent several hours helping Father Severino with his computer and sending e-mails to friends.

Excerpts from one of these e-mails:I never know when I will get the opportunity to check email, so when I do, I want to send as many messages as I can (I know I just sent one). Everything has been quiet today for the most part. I have only heard one bomb today and about 20 or so last evening, but it usually is more intense in the evenings from what the guys say. I feel very safe where I am.

Tomorrow will be an intense day of traveling for me, as I will visit many of the Holy sites. I will be going to Nazareth, the Sea of Galilee, Tiberius, and Capernaum, and hopefully Cana as well. One of the Friars

here (Father Severino) has taken me under his wing and has offered to take me touring all day tomorrow. I am EXTREMELY excited. Father Severino has a PhD and has more knowledge in his little finger than I do in my body. He is originally from Poland and a good friend of Gil.

Father Severino offered to take me to some of the better spots personally and that will end up helping me out a lot. So, I have nothing planned for today, which I hope to spend resting and intensely studying for my trip on Thursday. I will read through every area that I would be visiting, both in my guidebook as well as in my Bible. I want to be spiritually prepared for God to teach me things at every location I will find myself in.

After finishing with the computer, I went back to my room and studied the scriptures for several hours and then took another brief nap before dinner. I was exhausted! After dinner, I went up on the rooftop of the Bethlehem monastery and spent some time looking out over the beautiful countryside. I spent a significant part of the evening on the rooftop overlooking Bethlehem. Bethlehem by night is amazing. There is such a wonderful peace out by the Shepherd’s Fields. Gil joined me for a while and we had a wonderfully long talk.

Thursday, June 14th, 2001

It was some ungodly hour of the morning when Father Severino and I left the monastery and began our trek through the Holy Land. I was tired, yet extremely excited to be going on the tour. We left Bethlehem through the checkpoint, and headed to Jerusalem. We traversed past the Old City and went over the Mount of Olives into the largely Palestinian-populated East Jerusalem section. It is hear that the Palestinians hope to establish their capital if they ever get a homeland. As we traveled down the other end of the Mount of Olives, we travel through the region known as Bethany, where Jesus and His disciples would often go to spend his evenings. Of course, this is a very dangerous area and one that the tour bus advised independent travelers (like us) to avoid due to safety concerns. Father Severino was undeterred.

After departing the area, we made a b-line for the Judean Desert via the Jericho Road, which travels deep into the West Bank. It was on this leg of the trip that I saw one of the most beautiful sites of my journey. I had the opportunity to see the sun rise over the desert. If you have never seen it in person, there is little I can do to help you understand it. I snapped a photo or two, but I sensed it would be fruitless . . . you’ll just have to take my word for it.

Excerpts from an e-mail sent on 6/15/01 -

We started by driving deep into the West bank to the Dead Sea and past Jerico. Father S. wanted to take me in to the city, but the Israelis have closed off the city and no one can enter or leave. The gates are shut and only the streets around the city are passable. We drove on the very streets where rock attacks had killed tourists several months ago, but it was early in the morning and usually pretty safe [these Friars are FEARLESS!] Father S. wanted to eat breakfast with me there, despite that a monk was viscously murdered there yesterday [he was mistook for an Israeli.] The sunrise over the Judean desert was PRICELESS!

Anyway, we continued deeper into the West Bank, arriving at Beth Shean around 7:30 or so and in Nazareth around 8:00.

Journal Excerpt - The desert has been a new experience for me as I have been enjoying it now since Egypt. However, the morning desert remains a site unparalleled; the blazing colors, the brightest shades of orange and gold, the hauntingly beautiful shapes and shadows, carved over the centuries by the hands of God. And coming down out of the final set of mountain dunes, a panoramic view of the Judean valley that I have dreamed about in fantasies. On my right, the vast Dead Sea, still shrouded in a morning mist while a calming blue aura subtly glows from beneath her covers. On my left, the sprawling city of Jericho, perhaps the oldest continually inhabited city on the planet. Before me, a gorgeous valley containing lush tropical fruit trees

and beautiful green plants supported by the nearby Jordan River. It is as if the Bible is alive before my eyes.

Father Severino and I would blaze a path through the heart of the deepest sections of the West Bank. While a very dangerous portion of Palestine, we would essentially stay away from the comparatively more dangerous population centers where we would encounter certain resistance. Father Severino would follow the Jordan River up to Beth Shean, bypassing the troublesome cities of Ramallah and Nablus.

During Biblical times, Beth Shean, which means “house of rest” or “quiet,” was a city of great military strength. The Philistines controlled the city and in 10006 B.C. Saul and the Israelites attempted to take the city. Saul and his son Jonathan were killed in the process and the Philistines decapitated their bodies and hung them on the walls of the city (I Sam 31:9-12). David eventually conquered the city and it was inherited by Solomon after David’s death. The Romans would conquer it as well and add a prominent hippodrome around the 2nd century.

From Beth Shean, we traveled to Mount Tabor, which is believed by the Catholic faith to be the location of the Transfiguration. Traveling up the mountain is a long and arduous journey along a very whiny road that literally hugs the mountainside. At the top is a wonderfully cute Franciscan chapel and monastery. Pilgrims are offered a free room, which would be a reasonable reward given the arduous journey one would have to take to arrive there.

Father Severino and I walked into the small chapel during a tourist mass and it was a beautiful sight. The chapel has a Roman appearance, which Father Severino explained was a result of the architecture of the times. It was built by the Crusaders. Neil May regards the church as “one of the most beautiful in the Holy Land.” The songs of the small choir had such an angelic sound as they echoed softly throughout the edifice. We lingered for a while before departing.

Coming down the mountain was quite an experience. The views from the mountainside are among the most beautiful I have ever witnessed. It was from Mount Tabor that the only female judge that ruled Israel (Deborah) and Barak, launched their assault on the Canaanite kings in the valley below (Judges 4:1-22, 5:19-31). My photos from the slopes were beautiful and peaceful. From the slopes, one can see the “hills on the northern boundary of Samaria. . ;. Megiddo, Carmel, the higher houses of Nazareth. . . the Jordan Valley. . . and the Sea of Galilee.” It was a truly breathtaking experience. From Tabor, we went to Nazareth. I was surprised to see that Nazareth was such a large city and one with a large and thriving Muslim populace. When we arrived in Nazareth, it was amidst bustling, “rush-hour” style traffic. Nazareth was emotional for me as I considered that this is where Christ literally spent much of His life. It used to be a very small and remote village, boasting nothing special and certainly nothing divine! (John 1:46).

The Franciscans have erected a church (the Church of the Annunciation) over the site where they believe Mary lived. The inner church is a beautiful and modern creation with a gorgeous and impressive dome. How I would love to attend a worship service in such a church. The outer courts have a museum to the excavations that were done there and more remnants of what is known to be the actual village of Nazareth.

From the church we traveled to Mary’s Well, which is about a ten-minute walk from the church. To get there we had to walk through Nazareth. This was very emotional as well.

Journal ExcerptHere I am in the city of Christ. As I take a step and then another, perhaps I walk in the very footprints of God. There is no refuting the possibility for Christ was indeed here. He was born in Bethlehem and lived for a time in Capernaum, but He was certainly Jesus OF NAZARETH and He was most definitely here. This is why I came to the Holy Land. . . to walk where my Savior walked.”

In fact, I probably stood EXACTLY where Christ spent much of His time. You see, Nazareth never became a large city like Tiberias or Capernaum, due to its remote location and its sole source of water.

Nazareth only had one spring and everyone in the city who needed water (and everyone needed water – even Jesus) had to at some point come to the one well in town. That means that Jesus at some point probably came to this one well. . . and I was standing at it! Again, this is why I came.

After Nazareth, we continued down to Cana of Galilee and checked out the city there. Cana was the city where Christ performed His first miracle, turning the water into wine. However, the modern city of Cana may or may not be in the same location as the ancient city of Kana. Archeologists disagree and Father Severino seemed to believe that it might not be the same. Perhaps the disagreements spoiled some of mystique, I don’t know, but Cana for some reason didn’t grip me like other places we visited. Cana was also the home of Nathaniel, who was one of Jesus’ twelve disciples.

From there we traveled several hours to Caesarea Philippi. I had been reading for some time about Caesarea Philippi, but thought it was too far north to visit [especially since none of the major tour groups go that far north.] However, Father Severino said, “NO PROBLEM, WE WILL DO IT!!” Philippi ended up being a real highlight of my day and my entire trip.

The trip was long and Father Severino encouraged me to take a nap while he drived. I slept for about two hours on the way up there and he woke me up when we arrived. The ruins at Philippi consist mainly of an ancient pagan cave and alter that was once a place of worship to the Canaanite deity Baal, the Greek god pan and later to the Nymph Echo and Diopan. In Hellenistic times, it was believed that the cave passageway led directly to Hades.

This site would have been the perfect backdrop for Christ’s questioning of His disciples, which occurred in the region.

Matthew 16:13 –18 When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, "Who do people say the Son of Man is?" They replied, "Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets." "But what about you?" he asked. "Who do you say I am?"Simon Peter answered, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God."Jesus replied, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven.And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.

Whether Christ questioned His disciples on this site or not, it is matter of conjecture, but it would certainly make sense from the narrative. Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised.

It was in the early afternoon when we arrived in Philippi and it was extremely hot. However, Father Severino was content to wear his full habit and garments in the hot sun. This is something I will never understand. While up in the region, we also visited the Banias springs and waterfalls. The Banias Waterfall comes out of a spring in the rocks and is one of the three sources of the River Jordan. The Philippi region is one of the lushes in Israel and the Banias portion is its crown jewel. Father Severino and I encountered a small snake on the way down the valley, which started to book up the hill as we approached.

When we approached the waterfall, such an invigorating and relaxing feeling came over me. What an incredible and pleasant area in the midst of the miles of desert-like wasteland.

During the long trip back, we visited the possible site of the Mt. of Beatitudes, where Christ preached the Sermon on the Mount. There are two locations that are thought to be the place where Christ preached. At this prospective location, the Franciscan sisters have built a cute little chapel and convent. The chapel serves as a beautiful place for a photo or two with the powerful Sea of Galilee dominating the valley below.

From the Mount of Beatitudes, we next traveled to Capernaum. Capernaum was a neat place. Considered the “headquarters” of Jesus’ greater public ministry, it was also the only place where Jesus was said to be, “at home.”

Mark 2:1-2 A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home. So many gathered that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them.

Capernaum was the home of three of Jesus’ disciples – Peter, Andrew, and Matthew, and Christ performed many of His miracles in Capernaum:

Mat 12:9-13 Going on from that place, he went into their synagogue, and a man with a shriveled hand was there. Looking for a reason to accuse Jesus, they asked him, "Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?" He said to them, "If any of you has a sheep and it falls into a pit on the Sabbath, will you not take hold of it and lift it out? How much more valuable is a man than a sheep! Therefore it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath." Then he said to the man, "Stretch out your hand." So he stretched it out and it was completely restored, just as sound as the other.

Luke 4:31-36 Then he went down to Capernaum, a town in Galilee, and on the Sabbath began to teach the people. They were amazed at his teaching, because his message had authority. In the synagogue there was a man possessed by a demon, an evil spirit. He cried out at the top of his voice, "Ha! What do you want with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are--the Holy One of God!" "Be quiet!" Jesus said sternly. "Come out of him!" Then the demon threw the man down before them all and came out without injuring him. All the people were amazed and said to each other, "What is this teaching? With authority and power he gives orders to evil spirits and they come out!"

Mat 9:20-22 Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. She said to herself, "If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed." Jesus turned and saw her. "Take heart, daughter," he said, "your faith has healed you." And the woman was healed from that moment.

Mat 9:23-26 When Jesus entered the ruler's house and saw the flute players and the noisy crowd, he said, "Go away. The girl is not dead but asleep." But they laughed at him. After the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took the girl by the hand, and she got up. News of this spread through all that region.

Luke 4:38-39 Jesus left the synagogue and went to the home of Simon. Now Simon's mother-in-law was suffering from a high fever, and they asked Jesus to help her. So he bent over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her. She got up at once and began to wait on them.

Luke 5:19-20, 25-26 When they could not find a way to do this because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on his mat through the tiles into the middle of the crowd, right in front of Jesus. When Jesus saw their faith, he said, "Friend, your sins are forgiven." Immediately he stood up in front of them, took what he had been lying on and went home praising God. Everyone was amazed and gave praise to God. They were filled with awe and said, "We have seen remarkable things today."

Two sites here were of particular interest to me. The first was the home of Peter. There is no way of knowing for certain which home was actually Peter’s, but one home in the village was coincidently converted into a church in the early 1st century. This house is presumed to be Peter’s and it is also ironically less than 50 yards from the synagogue and near the shoreline, both of which would make sense.

If what is believed to be Peter’s house was indeed his house, than it was the site of one of my favorite Biblical stories: Mat 17:24-27 After Jesus and his disciples arrived in Capernaum, the collectors of the two-drachma tax came to Peter and asked, "Doesn't your teacher pay the temple tax?" Yes, he does," he replied. When Peter came into the house, Jesus was the first to speak. "What do you think, Simon?" he asked. "From whom do

the kings of the earth collect duty and taxes--from their own sons or from others?" "From others," Peter answered. "Then the sons are exempt," Jesus said to him. "But so that we may not offend them, go to the lake and throw out your line. Take the first fish you catch; open its mouth and you will find a four-drachma coin. Take it and give it to them for my tax and yours."

The second place of interest to me was the nearby synagogue, which would have been the site that Jesus frequently taught in and a location of several of his miracles. The original synagogue was built over several times and what stands today are the “improvements” that have been added over the centuries.

We visited Chorazin and Bethsaida next, which were cities that were listed by Jesus along with Capernaum as cities that would be judged.

Luke 10:13-15 Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty works had been done in Tyre and Sidon, which have been done in you, they had a great while ago repented, sitting in sackcloth and ashes. But it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the judgment, than for you. And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted to heaven, shalt be thrust down to hell.

As Christ had predicted, Chorazin and Bethsaida (like Capernaum) had indeed been judged and destroyed. In fact, the actual location of Bethsaida is still a matter of debate among archaeologists and all that’s left of Chorazin is a group of toppled columns and arches. Unfortunately, we had a great deal of difficulty finding Chorazin and by the time we reached the excavations, they had been closed down (they close at 4PM). There was little to see though, and one could get a very good glimpse without going inside. Father Severino and I were content to stay outside.

Our final stop of the day would be in nearby Tiberias. Tiberias is a very important city in Northern Israel. A “gentile city” in Biblical times, this may explain in part why it is not recorded that Christ ever visited the city. The city became a great center of Jewish learning and it was in Tiberias that the Talmud was pieced together. Today, Tiberias is a resort community that attracts visitors year-round. Tiberias lies on the shores of the Sea of Galilee (also called the Sea of Tiberias in the Bible by John, who was writing to the gentiles) and it is by far the best city to visit if you would like a close-up view of the Sea.

Driving into Tiberias, I felt as if I was driving into Ocean City, Maryland. Beach shops, and a “boardwalk strip” dominate the seashore and people walk about with a crowded frequency that mirrors the US. The ruins to the city lie off of the sea a bit and bare witness to the aggressive, energetic, and ambitious nature of Herod’s building projects.

Father Severino and I made our way down to the Franciscan church and monastery, Terra Sancta. Originally built by the Crusaders, it was overrun by the Moslems and years later retaken and rebuilt. What is seen today has been there since 1948. The beautiful little church is hidden between a slew of shoreside restaurants. Father Severino and I ate at one of these restaurants, which overlooked the Sea of Galilee.

It was here that father Severino introduced me to Saint Peter fish. He highly recommended them, and since I had never had them before, I agreed to try one. Well, I discovered that they give you what you ask for in the Holy Land. If you order a fish, they bring you a fish – bones, fins, scales, and even a head and huge eyeballs looking up at you from the plate. It was an interesting meal to say the least – and quite an enjoyable one!

Journal ExcerptAs I sit here eating Saint Peter fish by the shores of the Sea of Galilee, I am overwhelmed a feeling of awe and undeniable peace. The calm waters of the Sea lightly lap against the rocks just several feet from my table and the ancient replica ships of Biblical times sail frozen in time from the docks to the far shore. The far shore is aglow now as the sun is making its final push towards the earth and the heat of the day has long since been vanquished. Calmness and peace has come over me now, and the raw beauty and spiritual significance starts to sink in. Looking out over the Sea, I realize that it was on these waters that Jesus Christ walked. I can almost see him doing it – right there, out to that boat from the shore. What it must have looked like! I marvel over this place, it is so magical.

After dinner, I found a nice spot and went for a little swim in the Sea of Galilee. The entire Galilee region is EXTREMELY beautiful, as the dark blue waters cascade off the bright gold sandy mountains that surround the shore. Rich, dark green palms and shrubbery enhance the coloric explosion, which makes for some beautiful photos of which I have taken many. I think I will never forget this place.

After Tiberias in the southern Galilee, we began the 2.5 hour trek back to Bethlehem. We didn’t travel the same way home as we did there. The Palestinians are usually asleep in the morning, but we would be in much more danger in the evening. We went home via Haifa on the coast and down to Tel Aviv. Going this route from Tiberias, we drove past the Megiddo plain, which according to Scripture will be the site of Armageddon. I felt an eerie feeling during this leg of the journey considering the carnage that will one day be experienced here. I hope I’m not around to see it happen.

On a lighter note, Tel Aviv is a neat city by night. It kind of reminds me of Atlanta. Tel Aviv is very exciting, clean, and modern. There are a few large advertisements plastered on the sides of office buildings (like the kind I have frequently seen on my trips to Los Angeles) and very modern offices are not uncommon. Tel Aviv has a neat energy and a nightlife that is unparalleled for the region.

And then, the day was over.

We left Bethlehem at 5:15AM and finally got back home to Bethlehem shortly after 10:00PM at night. We put over 650Km on the car [probably over 300 miles] and had a truly incredible time. I know for a fact that I will never forget this day; it will be with me for the rest of my life.

Friday, June 15th, 2001Fatigued from the excursion on Thursday, I decided to lay low on Friday and try to get some much needed rest; however, not Father Severino. He got up around 6AM and drove to Haifa to pick up another friar at the airport. He is an amazing servant and freely blesses with complete joy and without grumbling. I woke up late on Friday and spent much of the day in prayer, petition, study, and research. I read through all of the scriptures that related to the places I visited the day before, and meditated on them. Then, I read through all of the scriptures that related to the places I would probably visit tomorrow and the rest of the week. It was quite the relaxing day.

A few significant things did happen during the day. One of these things was a rather lengthy dissertation that was blaring over the loudspeakers from the nearby mosque. It wasn’t the usual “call to prayer.” I explained in an e-mail to my friends.

E-mail excerpt“Today, there was a real ruckus from the nearby mosque. They were shouting for about an hour over the loud speakers, calling for acts of terror against Israel and westerners. The friars tell me that it is an almost a weekly occurrence [Friday is their holy day] and I shouldn’t worry too much about it. In the past, they have shouted Death to America, and such things, but this one was mild by comparison. Often, there is some violence after these demonstrations. I don’t have any touring planned for today; perhaps I will try to keep a low profile in the near term.

As for the bombing, it has stopped relatively. I have heard an explosion here and there, but nothing sustained like several nights ago. Last evening as we entered Bethlehem, all of the power in the city went out and the city was completely dark for about 30 seconds. However, it came back on and everyone proceeded normally after that.”

I also heard significant machinegun fire for a lengthy period around duck. I paused for a moment and managed to get some of the audible melee on videotape. However, there was no way to know where it was coming from (probably somewhere near the checkpoint) and I had no desire to investigate further than my window.

Saturday, June 16th, 2001On Saturday, Father Severino told me that he had to go up to the hospital in Haifa to pick up one of the other friars up there. He offered to take me along and he would show me some of the coastal areas along the way and on the way back. Eager to see the “golden coast,” I jumped at the chance.

The first place we visited was Caesarea Maritima, which used to be a very significant city in ancient times. It was built by Herod Antipas (who I call by my pet name, Herod Antipasta) for his patron Caesar Augustus. Caesarea was a significant religious and cultural center in the book of Acts and is referenced several times. It was the home of Cornelius, from which the Apostle Paul first preached to the Gentiles concerning God not showing partiality, as well as the home of Phillip the Evangelist. It was also the place from which Herod presented himself as a god and was smitten dead by an angel of the true God.

Acts 10:1-2 At Caesarea there was a man named Cornelius, a centurion in what was known as the Italian Regiment. He and all his family were devout and God-fearing; he gave generously to those in need and prayed to God regularly.

Acts 12:18-19 In the morning, there was no small commotion among the soldiers as to what had become of Peter. After Herod had a thorough search made for him and did not find him, he cross-examined the guards and ordered that they be executed. Then Herod went from Judea to Caesarea and stayed there a while. He had been quarreling with the people of Tyre and Sidon; they now joined together and sought an audience with him. Having secured the support of Blastus, a trusted personal servant of the king, they asked for peace, because they depended on the king's country for their food supply. On the appointed day Herod, wearing his royal robes, sat on his throne and delivered a public address to the people. They shouted, "This is the voice of a god, not of a man." Immediately, because Herod did not give praise to God, an angel of the Lord struck him down, and he was eaten by worms and died.

Caesarea was also the scene of one of my favorite quotes of Paul. I have marked this quote in the passage below:

Acts 21:8 Leaving the next day, we reached Caesarea and stayed at the house of Philip the evangelist, one of the Seven. He had four unmarried daughters who prophesied. After we had been there a number of days, a prophet named Agabus came down from Judea. Coming over to us, he took Paul's belt, tied his own hands and feet with it and said, "The Holy Spirit says, 'In this way the Jews of Jerusalem will bind the owner of this belt and will hand him over to the Gentiles.'" When we heard this, we and the people there pleaded with Paul not to go up to Jerusalem. Then Paul answered, "Why are you weeping and breaking my heart? I am ready not only to be bound, but also to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus." When he would not be dissuaded, we gave up and said, "The Lord's will be done." After this, we got ready and went up to Jerusalem.

E-mail Excerpt:Todays trip to Caesarea, was INCREDIBLE!! Caesarea was a HUGE fortress area on the Mediterranean sea that was a major Roman stronghold around the time of Jesus. It was considered an architectural marvel of its time, with a harbor port that still partially stands today, 2000 years after it was built. The city is right on the salty sea, plush with sandy beaches, light blue and turquoise waters, a host of white, tranquil sailboats nearby, green palms, and this once mighty fortress. I was snapping photos every couple of seconds, and the video I have of the site is probably incredible.

I thoroughly enjoyed Caesarea not only for its history, but also for its unbelievable beauty. The pictures I took speak for themselves.

After walking around Caesarea for a while, we headed off to Haifa where we picked up one of the friars at the infirmary that they have there. Haifa is a pretty interesting city. It is Israel’s third largest city and, located on the Mediterranean coast, it is its largest sea port. Haifa encompasses the beach and several miles

of land up the side of a nearby mountain range. One of the nearby ranges contains a mountain named “Carmel”, where Elijah challenged and defeated the Prophets of Baal. Father Severino, the other friar (who’s name has escaped me), and I stopped off at a small Islamic restaurant for lunch, where we once again had various types of fish. I enjoyed it thoroughly, despite the adjustment to the bones which I found throughout.

The most impressive thing to see in Haifa is the Baha’i Shrine and Gardens. Haifa is the International home of the Baha’I faith, which believes in the synergy of all faiths. The shrine contains the remains of Bab, who was the spokesperson of the most recent Baha’i prophet, “Bahaullah.” The entire structure faces Acre (formerly known as Acco in ancient times) where Bahaullah wrote the Bab and lived out his days in peace. Bab, on the other hand, was martyred before a firing squad.

Acre was the final stop on our tour and I liked it very much. Acre is a true “ancient” city. It was first mentioned 3,500 years ago by Pharaoh Thutmose III, and was one of the “substandard” towns given to King Hiram by Solomon as repayment for his help building the Temple in Jerusalem. Alexander the Great conquered it in 332 B.C. It was renamed “Ptolemais” in biblical times. The Apostle Paul stopped over for a time during his missionary journeys as did Julius Caesar in 48B.C.

Acts 21:7-8 We continued our voyage from Tyre and landed at Ptolemais, where we greeted the brothers and stayed with them for a day. Leaving the next day, we reached Caesarea and stayed at the house of Philip the evangelist, one of the Seven.

Acre was a very neat city, because it has been relatively untouched since the time of the Crusaders. There are rather intricate city sections located near the water with maze-like structures throughout the city. The water’s edge features the remnants of a crusader fort with walls and obstacles designed to ward off a naval attack. I think I was tired when I visited the city, because I was less than intrigued by its obvious and interesting character. A few places did spark my interest, but I didn’t engage many of the areas I should have. I took photos of some of the more interesting areas.

After seeing Acre, we all returned to Bethlehem and relaxed for the rest of the evening. I found time to write an e-mail before I went to sleep.

E-mail excerptThere has been limited gunfire today, but yesterday there was a barage of machine gunners near the Bethlehem Checkpoint where we pass through every day. It usually happens around 6PM until 8PM. Tonight, we had to pass through the checkpoint around 7PM, but there were no troubles at all. The border guards were acting like it has been quiet for days and we went through without a hitch.

As for my emotions, every moment I feel like I am about to explode with emotion. This place is amazing. Let there be no mistake, I wake up every morning in the city where Christ was born. On an evening around 2,000 years ago, there was an extra star in the sky over this city. Just about every night, I go up on the extensive roofing that covers the monastery and overlook the entire city of Bethlehem (The Franciscan monastery has the best view of any building here.) I have taken many hours pondering and considering where I thought the start might have been. Afterall, the city is very small, so it must have been almost directly overhead and low in the sky. I have wondered what shape it must have been, and what color, and what Mary and Joseph must have thought when they first laid eyes on it DIRECTLY over the spot of their newborn son. Deep thoughts to ponder.

Sunday, June 17th, 2001I spent the morning of June 17th doing something I have come to enjoy on this trip more than anything else . . . I was praying about, meditating on, and reading through the scriptures. After lunch, my friend Abraham and I traveled into Jerusalem to St. Savior’s monastery to meet up with one of the other friars. Abraham had arranged for an Irish priest named “Frederico” to guide us through the Old City. Frederico was a warm and highly intelligent priest who spoke excellent English (with a slight Irish accent of course), possessed a very witty tongue, and was greatly unselfish with his time. He only had a few hours to spend with us,

because he had to officiate a mass. However, he was able to be an excellent tour guide and told me many things about the history of Jerusalem that I would not normally have heard (including many tidbits from the Christian perspective).

One of the first places we visited was the “Upper Room.” This is the place where the Catholic Church “celebrates” the day of Pentecost, where the Holy Spirit was first given to the early church. It was an interesting building, but did not grab my attention. Both my guidebook as well as father Frederico stated that there was great controversy concerning the Upper Room and that it was probably not the legitimate site of the Upper Room. However, it makes for a good tourist activity, which is unfortunately what a good deal of the city has become about.

From the Upper Room, we visited the Church of the Dormition (which disturbed me – yet another “Mary Monument”) and we saw David’s Tower (which historians believe is one of two possible locations where Christ may have been condemned to death by Herod. To get to many of the spots in Jerusalem, Father Frederico, Abraham, and I found ourselves walking down different portions of the Via Dolorosa. The Via Dolorosa commemorates the traditional route that Christ took from his condemnation to his death at Golgotha. Of course, all of these points are in contention as historians disagree as to where Christ was condemned and no one knows for certain where he was crucified or buried. Even so, the various Stations of the Cross evoke a certain spiritual reflection that is powerful and moving (I commented on the Via Dolorosa on the June 11 entry).

After spending an interesting time in the Church of the Flagellation, we began a lengthy stay at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. This immense church was a project of Helena, the mother of Constantine, who was a Christian and established many of the “official” Holy sites in Jerusalem. As legend has it, she was shown in a dream where the true Golgotha was located and she ordered her servants to excavate there. Upon discovering the location, they also uncovered a cross. To test the authenticity of the cross, she instructed a recently deceased person to be placed on the cross and he reportedly came back to life! This confirmed for all people present that they had found the one, true cross of Christ and the location of his death.

In a related story, I own some swampland in Florida . . .

The Church of the Holy Sepulcher was built around the location of Golgotha and incorporates not only his place of crucifixion, but also the garden tomb where he was raised from the dead (the tomb of Joseph of Armithea). It was a very solemn location and one of incredible beauty, size, and spiritual energy.

However, the most interesting thing about the church had nothing to do with the church itself, but with something called the “Status Quo.” The Status Quo is a term that we are very familiar with and use quite frequently. However, I learned in Jerusalem what it really means. Webster’s dictionary defines it as, “The existing condition or state of affairs” and it usually denotes “settling” for something mediocre and/or politically neutral.

The original Status Quo of the Holy Places was a document issued by the Ottoman Turks in 1852 and later reaffirmed in Article LXII of the Treaty of Berlin (1878). The Status Quo established and froze all rights to Holy sites including those of the Holy Sepulcher. Whatever rights existed prior to the agreement, were guaranteed after. Rights that were not maintained would be forfeited. Thus, a constant presence at these sites is required.

And it also seems that the Status Quo has guaranteed that an extreme and humorous form of overprotective anality will also be present for years to come. Three main groups control the church (Greek Orthodox, Roman Catholic and Armenian Orthodox) yet; three other groups have control of at least one section (Ethiopian, Egyptian Copt, and Syrian churches). Each of these churches vigilantly defends their “rights” to different portions of the church. The Status Quo causes huge disputes; as the various groups must pass through each other group’s sections to gain access to their own, lean up against other group’s walls to make repairs, or time the start and completion of their services to accommodate and correspond to the services of the other groups.

The original Status Quo document of 1852 denied all guardianship rights to the Russian Orthodox Church. This act so angered czar Nicholas I that he started the Crimean War, which lasted over three years from 1853-1856. The war ended up costing all sides over half a million deaths and the equivalent of half a trillion dollars. Wars over the Status Quo are still being fought. If you have the time and interest, read this article on “The Church and the Ladder Frozen in Time” by Dr. James E. Lancaster, and the newest conflict over the proposed “new exit” (a clear violation of the Status Quo).

http://wire.ap.org/APpackages/20thcentury/centstories/031699door.html

http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Oracle/1631/ladder1.html

I found the Status Quo to be even more fascinating than the church. However, the church was incredible as well. I was especially taken with the heaviness and holiness of the various sites. Each of them was reflective and solemn. However, I remained a skeptic as to their authenticity. As I saw people touch “Calvary,” and bow down to worship and kiss the stone where Jesus’ body was supposedly prepared for burial (actually, it is not even the same stone, but one that the Catholic church has openly admitted to have replaced several times throughout the centuries due to wear), I was very taken back. When encouraged to “touch” Calvary, I vehemently refused. It just rubbed me the wrong way and I didn’t want to touch it. My refusal was met with a certain degree of disbelief, “you don’t want to touch the place where Jesus was crucified?!!!” It was an odd moment.

The “Garden Tomb” was another of these places. It evoked tears in many and there was a great deal of emotion throughout the area. I too was emotional, despite my beliefs concerning the authenticity of the site. The bottom line was that there were people shedding tears for the crucifixion and treatment of my Savior, and that was something that translated well to me despite the cultural and language barriers.

While waiting to depart, a UN soldier approached us and asked us in broken English if we had any paper and a writing instrument. He was a Ukrainian soldier, part of a group that had been touring the church with us. However, the group had departed some time ago and he was apparently lost. He took the piece of paper and the only writing utensil that I had (a yellow highlighter) and began writing something. Abraham noted that he was writing names. It turns out that he was writing the names of his ancestors to give to the Ukrainian priests, so that they could pray his relatives out of purgatory (or something like that).

After visiting the Holy Sepulcher, we bid farewell to the noble Father Frederico and got on a sharut back to Bethlehem. On the way back, we were riding with a woman and her two daughters. They were Palestinians from the community back in Bethlehem. The two girls were probably in their late teens or early twenties. Throughout the trip, they kept looking back at Abraham and I and giggling. They must have thought we were cute or something; who knows?

When we finally got to Bethlehem, they insisted on paying for our fare, despite our insurgence. We finally let them do it and thanked them kindly for the gesture. As we left, the girls giggled and waved to us as we went through the checkpoint. I assumed they were flirting with me since my buddy had a certain knot in his belt that would seem to make him unappealing, and I was clearly a rich American, which would seem to make me very appealing (all Americans are viewed as rich in third-world countries . . . and by comparison and through God’s grace they are).

After returning to Bethlehem, I went with Abraham to a small restaurant across Manger Square to enjoy a falafel and talk for a while. It was a very nice time. I learned a lot more about Abraham and we enjoyed hanging out together. I have become very fond of the falafel and will sorely miss them upon my return to the states. For about $2.50, you can get a huge sandwich that makes a pretty good little meal.

Manger Square is a very intriguing place, filled with a great deal of activity both day and night. Manger Square is usually the site of all significant political and religious activities. Last year there was a huge rally here in the Square to celebrate the Jubilee 2000 and the turn of the millennium. Both Pope John Paul II and Yassar Arafat were in attendance. In the evenings, the children play soccer in the square center. In fact, I

have never seen the square at a time when there have not been children playing. (Note: shortly after leaving the holy land, a 15 year old boy would be shot through the head and killed by soldiers in that same square).

Monday, June 18th, 2001Father Severino and I once again left the monastery early, this time departing around 8AM. Severino had purchased a thing or two for the trip, including a new steering wheel casing, a new seat cushion, and a “Cowboy” hat to protect him from the hot sun (I could have used one as well where we ended up going). We drove off through the Bethlehem checkpoint and passed through East Jerusalem on our way off to the Dead Sea. We used the same route that we used several days ago, when we drove past Jericho. However, we turned south rather than north when we approached the Dead Sea.

Our first stop on the day’s journey was the ancient outpost of Masada. While getting there was quite a battle, it was also a lot of fun; especially traveling with Father Severino. With the pumping tunes of Gina T. to keep us company, we were having a super time. All week long we had been rockin’ the Kasbah, now we were rocking’ the wasteland . . . and the Clash were nowhere to be found.

Journal ExcerptThe roads leading up to Masada were dramatic and extraordinary. The roadway to Masada heads south through a barren wasteland, with the Dead Sea on our left and the massive cliffs of the Judean Desert on our right. At times flat for many miles, the road also becomes elevated and sometimes seems literally “carved” out of the hillside providing views of the Dead Sea and valley that are difficult to believe much less describe. I stopped several times to take video and to catch my breath if nothing else.

The flatlands around Masada and its surrounding mountains have an incredibly beautiful and “patterned” effect that I have never seen before. It almost looked like a giant “Ant Farm.” The dunes stretched several stories high for miles, yet carved into the dunes were a randomized, yet seemingly deliberate and precise set of pathways. Similar to the “valley of the Crescent Moon” from Indiana Jones lore the topography seemed more indicative of Petra than Masada. Then again, Petra is less than 75 miles away.

We arrived at Masada around 10:30AM or so and took the cablecars to the top. The cablecars are definitely the way to go unless you are traveling on a very tight budget. One can save several bucks if they choose to walk up the winding “snake path” to the top, but I was never more eager to slap down some shekels and avoid the 30-45 minute climb in the oppressive, hazy, and sauna-like noonday heat. It was a scorcher by the time we reached the top.

Beginning the tour of Masada, one is immediately aware of several things. First, the views from the city are some of the finest one could hope to see. Second, the inhabitants of Masada were well prepared and had enough necessities to stay up there a very, very long time. Third, if somebody wanted to stay up in the fortress, there wasn’t a heck of a lot anyone could do about it. And finally, many people committed suicide on this small patch of ground.

The latter fact gave the entire area a very solemn feel that pervaded every inch of the tour. All of the preparation, all of the buildings, all of the storerooms, and all of the structures supported a people who eventually took their own lives rather than be slaves for the Romans. It was for this morbid reason that I tried to focus on the more interesting aspects of Masada like the impressive views of the Dead Sea and dessert and the ingenious design of the mountain fortress.

After staying at Masada for a little while, we traveled back to relax at Ein Gedi. Ein Gedi is located on a fertile area of land next to the Dead Sea. Ein Gedi was once an extremely beautiful and precious location, known worldwide for its herbs and spices which were used to make lotions, balms, perfumes, and incense.

Ein Gedi is mentioned in the Bible on six occasions. It was at Ein Gedi that David hid from Saul and spared Saul’s life.

1 Sam 23:29-24:4 And David went up from there and lived in the strongholds of En Gedi. After Saul returned from pursuing the Philistines, he was told, "David is in the Desert of En Gedi." So Saul took three thousand chosen men from all Israel and set out to look for David and his men near the Crags of the Wild Goats. He came to the sheep pens along the way; a cave was there, and Saul went in to relieve himself. David and his men were far back in the cave. The men said, "This is the day the LORD spoke of when he said to you, 'I will give your enemy into your hands for you to deal with as you wish.'" Then David crept up unnoticed and cut off a corner of Saul's robe.

King Solomon also refers to Ein Gedi in the Song of Solomon,

Song 1:14 My beloved is unto me as a cluster of camphire in the vineyards of Engedi.

Ein Gedi was a beautiful and prosperous place for many centuries until it was destroyed by the Muslims and its inhabitants were murdered and scattered. Ein Gedi was resettled in 1949 and is presently notable for the famous, wordclass spa that flourishes there.

It was in the early afternoon that we arrived at Ein Gedi after stopping at a nearby haunt for some lunch and ice cream refreshment. Adjacent to the diner, was Ein Gedi beach, which afforded one restrooms and showers for a few shekels and beach chairs for a few more. Father Severino and I went down to the abandoned beach and went for a swim.

The Dead Sea is the lowest point on the planet, 1290 feet below sea level. The Dead Sea is mentioned in the Bible many times and is truly one of the most remarkable and “freaky” places I have ever been. Nothing appreciable lives in the Dead Sea, except maybe some algae or microbes, and upon entering its waters, one discovers very rapidly why that is so. The Dead Sea (also called the Salt Sea in the book of Genesis) is very. . . ah. . . salty. There is much salt in the Dead Sea. There is so much salt in fact that the dense salt content of the water makes just about everything float. This is due to the salt. The water also tastes salty and not just salty, but VERY salty. By the way, did I mention how salty the water was? Because if I didn’t, I just wanted to mention that the water is salty, VERY salty. This again is due to the salt. Now that we are clear on this point, I will move on.

Since everything floats in the Dead Sea, one actually does not get the normal sensation of being at a beach at all. People seem to haphazardly waddle through the water on their backs, paddling backwards with miniscule productivity. However, swim with your frontside down and your butt sticks out of the water, forcing your head down and this causes lower-back discomfort. So, one is trapped either way.

After swimming, woops, I mean floating for a while, I noticed the lifeguard on duty watching the small group of a dozen or so people who were in the water. Suddenly I realized the absurdity of this person’s presence. If nothing sinks in the Dead Sea and there are no living creatures like sharks and such, why would a beach like this need a lifeguard? No one can drown in this water, because everything floats! Now that’s gotta be the easiest and stupidest job in all of Israel!

Oh, and one final thought. If you should ever be in the Dead Sea and have to use the bathroom, it is very important that you get out of the water and use it. This is a valuable tip. It would not be wise to “relieve yourself” in the water, unless you would like to experience a burning sensation that is ‘Biblical’ in its intensity.

Upon leaving the water, I returned to Father Severino who was relaxing near the lifeguard stand. I asked the lifeguard if his job was difficult and quipped with him concerning the absurdity of his job description. The gentleman actually explained to me that due to the lack of balance that one experiences in the water, some people end up on their front side and are unable to turn over. Some people have panicked and even drowned when this has happened. These occurrences are especially common in the elderly and obese.

Journal ExcerptLying here on the shores of the Dead Sea is one of the more surreal experiences of my life. This place is so thoroughly odd. Light-years away from a bustling city or even a populated roadway, I am many miles away from any form of developed civilization. It is so quiet here that one can hear the slightest sound . . . but there are none. An occasional lapping wave and a very infrequent person’s voice break the silence. In between, the air is devoid of sound. More truly than I have ever experienced before, the silence is indeed ‘deafening.’

The oddity begins with the eerie Dead Sea and its bazaar ability to make one float. Yet, exiting its waters, one encounters a climate and geography that is certainly its match. I feel as if I am on the moon right now. . . or in some alien dimension. . . or a character in a story the author hasn’t finished. The desert heat stifles the heavy, humid air and the strange and thick, milky-blue waters sizzle in the sun. Massive sand mountains and huge, rocky cliffs thrust their way out of the sea and watch intently my ever movement. Massive, and foreboding, they speak to me in a language I’m unfamiliar with, and I continue to look at them in hopes I will begin to understand what they are saying.

After a lengthy sunbathe, I returned to the comfortable waters of the sea. Due to the rich mineral content of the water, the surrounding soil is highly sought after. Dead Sea mud is used in many upscale salons and spas around the world and carries with it quite a premium. However, it’s inexpensive by the shore and a small bag can be purchased for around two dollars. You can also obtain it for free by the shore side, yet the prepackaged aliquots have been strained to remove rocks and pre-dried and concentrated. Father Severino treated. I couldn’t resist.

We left Ein Gedi in the mid-afternoon and stopped off at Qumran, where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found. The actual site didn’t interest me much and we didn’t pay to see the excavations. Severino gave me the summary description, “a couple of empty caves” and that didn’t peak my interest enough to go in.

However, I was interested in checking out one more place before concluding the day and that would be a brief stopoff on the way back through Jerusalem at Bethany. The Bethany road through East Jerusalem is highly contested and is not always safe for tourists and those traveling in small numbers. Severino took me a different way to avoid any possible confrontations.

Bethany was a very significant site in Christ’s time and a favorite lodging place for Jesus and His disciples. Bethany was the home of Mary and Martha and the location where Jesus performed one of His most astonishing miracles; raising Lazarus from the Dead.

John 11:19 Now Bethany was nigh unto Jerusalem, about fifteen furlongs off. And many of the Jews came to Martha and Mary, to comfort them concerning their brother . . . John 11:38-46 Jesus therefore again groaning in himself cometh to the grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it. Jesus said, Take ye away the stone. Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, Lord, by this time he stinketh: for he hath been dead four days. Jesus saith unto her, Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God? Then they took away the stone from the place where the dead was laid. And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I knew that thou hearest me always: but because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me. And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with graveclothes: and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go. Then many of the Jews which came to Mary, and had seen the things which Jesus did, believed on him. But some of them went their ways to the Pharisees, and told them what things Jesus had done.

Bethany was also the home of Simon the Lepper where a woman anointed Jesus with a valuable vial of ointment.

Mark 14:3 While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head.

And Bethany was the last place anyone has ever seen the visible Christ, as it was from Bethany that Christ ascended into heaven.

Luke 24:50-53 And he led them out as far as to Bethany, and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven. And they worshipped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy: And were continually in the temple, praising and blessing God. Amen.

For 4 shekels (about a dollar or so), you could take a tour of the “Tomb of Lazarus.” It’s highly improbable that the tomb is the ACTUAL tomb of Lazarus, but it was probably somebody’s tomb and it appears to be from Biblical times, far beneath the city streets. I found it worth the dollar to view what such an ancient tomb would have looked like and see its surroundings. Anyway, the Muslims control the site now, which added to my lack of enthusiasm to cough up the money.

We returned to Bethlehem shortly after.

Tuesday, June 19th, 2001Tuesday would be my final full day in the Holy Land and was one of tying up loose ends. To my regret, I had not spent very much time with Gil in recent days, nor many of the brothers in the monastery. In their own way, each of them had done something to show me hospitality and spend time with me and I enjoyed many brief and frequent interactions, smiles, and gestures. Each of them have been studying very hard for their final exams, and I just happened into their life during this stressful season. I had spent much more time with Father Severino (who incidentally was giving the Final Exam that had filled all of the students with the most fear) than with most of the others.

I asked Gil if we could hang out together on my final day and having finished his last test of the term, he agreed. Gil had several errands to run in Jerusalem, so it seemed as if it would work out well for both of us. Gil and I began by first stopping briefly at St. Saviors in the Old City before walking down to Gethsemane. I spent another lengthy season in the chapel and grotto at Gethsemane, which is such an emotional spot. After Gethsemane, we went through the Lion’s Gate and up to the Pool of Bethsaida. Perhaps it was fatigue, I don’t know, but I didn’t want to stay there very long. That aside, I found the site very interesting, and much more grand than I had imagined. It was more like a “bathhouse” or Roman fountain area than the simple pool that I had conjured in my head. I recall with similar feel the English city of Bath and the facilities that the Romans had built around its hot springs. The scale was even more impressive here from what I could see and imagine. There were not five porches, but one could imagine the area that used to be there and could see what probably amounted to one such “porch.”

John 5:2-9 Now there is at Jerusalem by the sheep market a pool, which is called in the Hebrew tongue Bethesda, having five porches. In these lay a great multitude of impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered, waiting for the moving of the water. For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had. And a certain man was there, which had an infirmity thirty and eight years. When Jesus saw him lie, and knew that he had been now a long time in that case, he saith unto him, Wilt thou be made whole? The impotent man answered him, Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me. Jesus saith unto him, Rise, take up thy bed, and walk. And immediately the man was made whole, and took up his bed, and walked: and on the same day was the sabbath.

After seeing this area, I wanted to do some shopping; however, not in the Muslim area. At this point in my journey, I don’t care to buy anything from the Muslims, due to their outrageous system of squabbling, haggling, and price setting. The only other major purchase I had to make was in the Coptic marketplace in Cairo and if I didn’t have Ibrahim with me, I wouldn’t have even made that one! So, I had Gil take me to the Jewish Quarter. There, I knew I wouldn’t have to squabble and go through turmoil to get cheated, I could just have a price quoted to me and get ripped off without all of the haggling. I definitely preferred that. I picked out a very nice gold necklace, which went well with my amulet from Egypt. I paid around $200, which seemed to be about right. Gil also bought a small gold necklace as a gift for a friend.

We exited the Old City through the Muslim Quarter and Herod’s Gate. Across Hatzanchanim Street, which borders the Old City is a little collection of sharut vans. A small collection of men ask you where you are going as you approach and they direct you in which van to go. Gil and I got in a van headed for Bethlehem(the long way around). Let me explain. There are two ways into Bethlehem. One can enter the city the front way (through the checkpoint), or through the desert. Only the front way has Israeli guards. The back way pf Bethlehem is “controlled” by the Palestinians, which in almost every case means its not regulated or controlled at all. Gil told me it would be OK, so I didn’t say a word.

The ride was completely different. The van took a route far out into the countryside, along roads that had been washed out and through fields rutted by streams and large vehicles. We went through several remote areas, dropping people off as we went. Some of the areas were more developed, and some of them were not. The remote country areas were the most beautiful and utterly quaint. Many of the people we happened by were shepherds tending their flocks. Just as in the same way shepherds in this very same area were arrested by heavenly hosts two millennia ago. I thought about taking out my camera and filming, but fear kept me from doing so. An expensive video camera in a remote area such as that one may lead to violence.

As we came into the city of Bethlehem from the back end, much of the town had been torn up by warfare. There were HUGE craters in the pavement roads and many of the buildings had gunfire and holes. These were sober reminders of the conflict that is being fought in the Holy Land every day.

In the evening, I joined the Friars for a special party celebrating the conclusion of their second seminary year. The party involved a wonderful dinner and a pool party at the nearby Catholic Action, which I would describe as a “religious YMCA.” The outdoor pool was situated on a hill and the wind was fierce and chilly. The water was cold to match. Most of the friars enjoyed a brief swim. I was amused that Ibrahim and his brother couldn’t swim and needed help from the others just to stay above water. I teased my friend a bit, bit he explained to me that he and his brother are from Syria and there weren’t many places to swim there. I guess if you grew up in a desert village, you wouldn’t be a very good swimmer. I’m sure some might laugh at me if they saw me goat herding

e-mail excerpt . . . A motorist was murdered today in Nablus around the area where we were at, just 40 miles north of where we were driving at around the same time that we were driving. I also just read on the following website : http://www.jpost.com/Editions/2001/06/18/LatestNews/LatestNews.28504.html that a terror bombing was narrowly averted today in Haifa, and we were in Haifa yesterday. . .There was VERY significant bombing between 4AM and 5AM this morning, so severe that it woke me up, and I couldn’t get back to sleep until it was over. Please pray for the situation.

Wednesday, June 20th, 2001I was invited by Father Georgio to play tennis with him in the morning at a nearby school run by the Catholic Church. I wasn’t going to take him up on the offer, but decided to do so the night before. I was a little worried about the timing of the day, but in the end, I didn’t want to miss out on a neat opportunity, so I went along. Father Georgio insisted that we walk to the tennis courts through the heart of Bethlehem.

Both of began around 8AM to walk through the marketplaces, which were just beginning to bustle in the early morning haze.

It wasn’t long before we began approaching one of the busier intersections of the city and I noticed a few disturbing things. First, Father Georgio was not wearing his Franciscan tunic (which identified him as a friar), and both of us were walking in street clothes (tennis shoes and shorts). Second, each of us was carrying a tennis racquet, which could be mistaken for a weapon. Third, we both were white Americans who looked as if we could be Jewish. Fourth, we were walking through the marketplace around dozens of suspicious looking characters and houses. And Finally, I had left the monastery without my passport.

And yet, Father Georgio strutted onward with the zeal and fearlessness of a man on a holy mission. He always acted intrepidly, as did the other friars. It wasn’t long before we arrived at the courts and enjoyed a nice game. George is a decent player and we had a good game.

We walked back by a different way and avoided the crowds. I wish I had known about that way the first time. There wasn’t much time for me to tarry after tennis. I had most of my things packed and managed to grab a quick shower before heading out. I left before the morning meal and I didn’t get to say my farewells to many of the friars. I did say “thank you” to the guardian and many of the friars that I spent time with. I also wrote a letter (that Gil translated into Italian) to thank all of the Friars. It was posted on the bulletin board.

Father Severino drove me to the airport, made me a wonderful “going-away card,” and gave me a really nice coffee table book. The drive seemed lengthy, and felt like a funeral. I knew I would greatly miss Severino and wished I would be seeing him more. I hated to have to say goodbye.

When we got to the airport, I was again accosted by the Israeli Security Police. It was much more severe than when I entered the country. They interrogated and insulted me for nearly two hours, unpacked all of my suitcases, groped me, made me pass through the metal detector, and then non-sealantly moved me onward. They were however kind enough to take me through customs and straight to my gait, which did save me a good deal of hassling. Then again, if they didn’t do that, I would have missed my flight.

All in all, it was a horrible experience and left a bad taste in my mouth on my last day.

Anyway, I learned that after my flight to Rome tomorrow, I have to take a train ride to get to the city (or pay 45 dollars for a taxi into the city) please pray for my safety. Tomorrow, I leave the Den of death, and enter the den of thieves. While in Rome, I will certainly see all of the sites. I was touring in Rome once before, but look forward to a refresher. I will DEFINATELY go to St. Peters, because I have never been there. I wasnt able to go in last time, and I am certainly going to spend mAJOR time there on this occassion.

I am leaving in 2 hours for a trip to the airport and and then, Im off to Rome. My plane leaves at 4PM Israel time (9AM East coast time) and arrives around 7PM Rome time (12PM or 1PM East Coast Time depending on the time difference.)

Then, it appears that I have to make a tricky menuever and catch a train at the airport to the middle of the city. That could end up being a big ordeal (every detail of International travel is a big ordeal) and I am a bit apprehensive about it. Please say a special prayer for me during the morning and ESPECIALLY the lunch to early afternoon timeframe. They say that train stations especially are FULL of PROFESSIONAL PICKPOCKETS and I noticed many bad things happen to people the last time I was in Rome.

Lastly, I will probably not email much or at all during the next 2 weeks as I will be on the move alot and probably wont have access to email connections. If you do here from me, it will probably be a brief message.

I arrived last evening in Rome and caught a train into the city. Lots of people must have been praying for me, because everything went flawless. However, once I got in the city, I had a good deal of trouble locating my hotel. It took me about 30 minutes of walking around, however, I found it finally, and it was a very nice place and very comfortable.

Rome is nothing like Egypt or Israel. I feel totally safe here, whereas in Israel and Egypt, I always felt my life was in imminent danger.

As soon as I got in and got settled, I walked down to the subway and took a night train to the Vatican and spent about an hour outside of the beautifully lit St. Peters Basilica. It was AWESOME!!! After meditating there for a time, I took the metro back to Spagna station and checked out the Spanish Steps and the Awe-Inspiring Trevi Fountain. That place evokes such an incredible feeling in me. I cant quite explain it. It was getting late, so I took the metro back to my Hotel site and called it a night (It was about 1230) or so when I got back to the apartment.

I got up today and had breakfast and headed off to the Vatican to take the Vatican museum tour. It takes a couple of hours. I was not supposed to film everything, but I managed to get some video of the Sistine Chapel (you were politely asked not to take video, but everyone else around me was doing it, so I said, what the heck.) Anyway, a tour guide caught me doing it and spoke to the other people and me angrily, so I left.

From there, I spent about an hour in St. Paul’s Basilica and that was INDESCRIBABLE. Since I cant describe it, you will have to wait until I get back to see the video.

Anyway, I visited the Spanish Steps again on the way back, and then went to this Internet Cafe on the way back. My plan is to take a long afternoon nap and then film the other side of Rome (at night) during the evening.

Rome was wonderful. The Rome Soccer team won the National championship the night I got to the city, and there were huge parties all over the place. It was the first time they had won in over 20 years and only the 3rd time this half-century. I had a great time touring the city. The Trevi Fountain was rumored to be the “fountain in Rome” (from the popular song, “three coins in a Fountain” made popular by Frank Sinatra), although this has been discovered as a fraud. Many people do throw money in though. The truth is, the fountain is a non-specific location in Rome.

The highlights of my trip in Rome were the following :

1. The opportunity to visit the new Keats-Shelley Museum at the Spanish Steps. As many of you know, John Keats has long been my favorite poet, upon which I have based many of my own poems. He died in room 23, overlooking the Spanish Steps, and not far from the Trevi Fountain. There is a newly-opened museum there now and I got to stand in the place that he died, read letters in his original penmanship, and even check out some of his rough drafts of his famous poems. There were paintings of him, locks of his hair. . everything Keats! That guy was awesome!! That was a very emotional time for me.

2. During my trip through the Vatican art galleries, there was one particular painting on the ceiling of one of the minor chapels that really blew me away. I remember staying there for about 30 minutes or so just staring at it and slowly crying. Scores of people just pass the room by and giv it no notice, but God really met me there. God is pretty awesome, he crushes me.

3. The first night I got to Rome, I took the metro to the Vatican, and watched the well-lit St. Peters from outside, and spent some time just thinking about my life, and what God is taking me through. The next night, I watched the sun set over the Coliseum and had a similar time. I love sitting alone and talking out loud to God. He ministers to me as the song goes, “. . . and he walks with me, and he talks with me.”

I arrived safely in Florence this morning and got situated easily at the hotel. My room is near the Duomo on the first floor, with a wonderful view of a brick wall. There is also a construction zone, with the fumes of paint coming in my room and lingering about. I don’t have a television or a refrigerator, and there doesn’t seem to be any air condition either. However, its not hot, and it will probably be even chilly this evening. Its actually not as bad as I make it, and it will do fine for a short stay.

After I briefly situated myself, I sat outside in a nearby shaded cafe and watched the hordes of people heading towards the world-famous Duomo, as I sipped on some American wine (Coca-Cola) and small pizza. Afterwards, I followed the crowds and checked out the church and the incredible Duomo. The interior of the dome displays the world’s largest painting of the “Last Judgment” (the dome was created by Brunelleschi and the Last Judgment was painted by Vasari and Zuccari) that is similar in its awesomeness to the one done by Michelangelo at the Sistine Chapel. After I was through there, I decided to wait around for a while and wait in line to climb the dome. Its a staggering 463 steps up to the top and every one is accounted for – believe me! The view from the dome was well worth the mere 10,000 Lire it costs to climb the steps ($5). I lingered at the top for nearly an hour, as the alternating sun and clouds cascaded off the Italian countryside, and the dramatic remnants of the afternoon swelled over the mountains and melting slowly off the distant hills.

A castle and several distant churches dotted the green acreage, including one reached solely by Bus#72, which my friend Gil recommended I take. It’s the Franciscan monastery that overlooks the city, and one can get there for less than 2 dollars. However, I have experience with taking buses to unknown destinations that has me antsy and unwilling to wager several hours. Besides, the view from the Duomo is more than enough panorama for me.

My time here in Rome and Florence has been a special one. It has been a relaxing change from the hectic and life-threatening feeling that I felt in Israel and Egypt (I’ll explain about Egypt later – actually, I felt safer in Israel than I did in Egypt.) Here, it almost feels like America. . . at least you can make out a street sign or two and it is not difficult to find American tourists, so you can at least feel lost together. In Israel and Egypt, you can’t find your way. You ask yourself, “does that look like the Arabic design I’m looking for?”

However, back to America; for example, I hung out with 2 girls for a while, when I was up in the Duomo (yes, I’m sure you were wondering why I spent such a long time up in the Duomo) who just graduated from George Washington University. So, I feel much more at home here, and its alot easier to get around and understand things, and run into people who speak English. However, nothing, and I repeat nothing, is easy about International travel. Every good connection I make (by good connection, I mean one that does not leave me stranded in Bangkok) I thank God for, and feel more confident about the possibilities that I might make it back to the US afterall!

I will be here in Florence for 2 more days, and then I’m off to Venice, which is a transportation nightmare. In Venice, you can’t walk or call a taxi if you get desperate. There are no taxis!! There are no streets!! Anyway, lease pray that I get there OK. I don’t know if I will be able to find an Internet connection in Venice, but, we will see. Then, I have a very critical overnight train to Geneva that I simply MUST make, or I will be in big trouble. So, please pray for that.

After I wrote my last email to you all yesterday, I left the email center behind the Duomo and started walking back to the town center. The sun was beginning to set and the clors of the dome were coming out, so I decided to make a trip out to the Ponte Santa Trinita, the bridge directly across from the Ponte Vecchio. So, i stopped behind the Duomo at a nearby gelati house, and picked up an Italian ice, and headed on over to the Arno River. There I caught the last hour of one of the most awesome sunsets over the Ponte Vecchio. I just sat there on the bridge and watched the sun set as I lapped up a very flavorful ice, which is an Italian specialty as you all know. I don’t make many good decisions, but that was certainly one.

I actually made another one today. Knowing that I had seen many of the “signature” sites of Venice, and desiring a little adventure, (and knowing that I had an extra day of usage on my Eurorail pass that I wasn’t going to use), I decided to hop on a train and head out of Florence and explore a little of Tuscany. What I found on my trip was some of the most incredibly relaxing sites that I have seen on my trip thus far. Tuscany is comprised of some of Italy’s richest agricultural areas renouned worldwide for its deep green virgin olive oil and other produce. The remote hills and valleys provide heavily wooded areas, and land which is fertile, and productive for all manner of crops. There my train moved through endless plateous and valleys, past countless villages and towns locked in an asymmetrical time warp, as if time had run off to Rome and Florence, and merely waved its hand in salutation as it passed by. Quaint villages abounded as the train slowly trolled along; Rigoli, Bruonelli, Garafagnna, Ripafratta, Pescia, and eventually Pisa.

Perhaps no one symbol is more renowned in Italy than the little tower that they have here, that slightly leans to one side. . . OK, it leans ALOT to one side. The Leaning Tower of Pisa is a special site in what is otherwise an overlooked city. I spent the first half of the day in Pisa, walking down its wonderfully tight streets and along the endless corridors and pathways that Italian villages like Pisa are known for. It was a wonderful experience. of course, the Tower itself is ubsurd. That thing is a leanin' and it don't seem like it would take much to bring it all down. Of course Galileo proved his great gravitation/Mass theory by droping two different sized objects from the tower. Of course, the tower wasn't leanin' much when he did it

several senturies ago. If he leaned over the edge today, he might have proved his theory by falling to the ground himself (at the same time as his objects, of course.)

Eventually, I found my way back to the train and went to the small village of Lucca. This town is literally trapped in time. A prosperous Roman colony 2 centuries before Christ was born, it boasted a significant Amphitheater and some of the finest silk manufacturers in the Empire. However, over the centuries, the city has been sacked and rebuilt several times. The present construction dates to the 8th century and the walls from that period are still sturdy and standing. In fact, the entire city is within these huge walls, and inside. . . I found great peace. Without the crouds of nearby tourist areas, I was amazed with the peace and tranquility of this little town that seemed to be all alone and unable to find its mother. The overwhelming calmness of Lucca was amazing. It was so quiet. I just found myself sitting under a shade tree, and looking out over the grassy plains in front of the Lucca Duomo and Cathedral and trying not to fall asleep. You could here the birds chirping nearby, and anyone who was walking in the piazza could not prevent each of their steps from sounding off an echo, which bounced off the surrounding walls. What a dream! I spent the afternoon there, and then hopped back on the train and headed back here to Florence.

There is still much to see in Florence, but I am not rushing things. You could be here a couple of weeks and not see everything. Tomorrow is Sunday, but it will be my museum day, as I hope to see several of the better ones. I will probably miss several of the good ones, but I needed today bad! It was my ultimate day of relaxation.

I am here now in Geneva and things are looking up. Here was the problem, the night train that I qualified for with my pass looked like it went to Munich, Germany first, and then Zurich, and then to another part of Switzerland, and then to Geneva. The times on the chart definitely pointed in that direction. However, the guy at the ticket booth swore that the train went straight to Geneva. Now Geneva is 8 hours away from Venice, however, the chart said it would take 13 hours to get there. This did not make sense and I did not believe him. I know that the 1st time on the chart (to Munich) takes 8 hours just as the chart said it did, because that is the exact same train Shola and I took 3 years ago. So, anyway, I didn’t believe him (he didn’t speak very good English either.)

The problem is this. To get to Munich, you must pass through Austria, which is not on my Europass. To pass through safely, you must purchase a “point to point” ticket for around 25 dollars, and hope that it satisfies the guards. A friend of a friend of mine was strapped for cash when he travelled this route and decided to “chance it” and not buy the ticket. The guards in Austria (who don’t like Americans-Ill explain later) fined him at the border, and since he didn’t have money to pay, they arrested him and made his parents wire money to the train station in the middle of the night to pay the ticket.

So, at the last minute, I decided to take the 5PM train that arrived in Geneva at midnight. I figured, at least then, I would be IN GENEVA and in a better place to negotiate a healthy outcome. Unfortunately, navigating through the mountains was a terrible experience at night, and I was feeling very nauseous by the time I got to Geneva at midnight. To make matters worse, there was a vicious thunderstorm and driving rain when I arrived in Geneva. Then, it took an entire hour to find the hotel, which is in an “interesting” neighbourhood. Anyway, I was hoping that they would have an extra room, but the entire hotel was “shut down” for the night. So, again, I did not have a place to stay. I walked around the city for about an hour trying to find a place to eat, but never found one (I had not eaten since noon.)

So, I returned to the Hotel hungry, exhausted, wet, a little cold. The Hotel is a nice one, on the 2nd story of a 4-story apartment complex. The reception area is through a hallway and up a spiral staircase. It was pretty abandoned on the first floor, so I decided to lay down my stuff and sleep and the hard floor, which didn’t do very much for my back, but I managed. No one disturbed me during the night, and all things considered, I slept quite well . Of course, I was massively uncomfortable, damp, and sweaty, but “se la vie.” I left around 8AM and managed to find a McDonalds that was open early. I desperately wanted an extra value meal. The selections were slim and they were only serving breakfast. Unfortunately, I ordered a “McWhat the heck was that” sandwich and didn’t suffered through eating it, because I was starving.

I returned to the hotel around 9:30 and they are cleaning my room now as we speak. I figure I will be in the room by 11AM, Ill shower and shave, and then take a nap for several hours. Then I’ll get up and eat a good meal, and then I’m thinking of taking a nice cruise at 5PM around Lake Geneva. I can take a later train to Paris tomorrow, and between the two days, I am certain I will see everything I want to see here in Geneva, (there is not that much to do anyway.

Anyway, thanks for your prayers, everything has worked out very well and I am very pleased with how I am feeling and how this part of the trip has gone. I am a little tired, but I am about to remedy that situation shortly.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t e-mail in Venice, but it was just too expensive. In Rome and Florence, it was about 3 dollars an hour (that’s kinda the going rate in Europe, and it’s even less expensive than that here in Geneva.) However, in price-obnoxiousness (also known as Venice), it was almost 8 dollars an hour. I was appalled and refused to pay the thieves!!!!

Geneva was awesome and Paris has been very taxing! Although I have had some fun in the city, it seems that Paris is more frustrating and confusing than any of the other city's I have been to thus far. Perhaps I have just reached my breaking point abd every little thing is bugging me. In fact, that is DEFINATELY the case. I think my vacation was exactly 2 days TOO LONG. I wish I were getting on a plane tonight!

This has been exasperated by the fact that I have gotten ill starting with last night. It's not a cold, its the pollen or something around here. I'm grossly allergic to something in the air. It's been killing me! I must have sneezed over a hundred times today and my nose is all sore, red, and puffy. I managed to purchase some Sudafed about a half hour ago and after I take it in an hour or so, I am hoping to feel better. I literally have two wods of tissues stuck up my nose right now to avoid inhaling. If I breathe in anything, I start sneezing.

Anyway, I didn't schedule many things for Paris. In Fact, there is really only two things more that I want to see here and I will do both of them tomorrow.

This will definitely be the last time that I contact you via e=mail. Tomorrow, I will be running around the city trying hard to enjoy myself and the next day I get up early in the morning and leave for the Paris airport and New York City. If all goes well, I will be coming in at Reagan airport on a 5PM plane on Monday. I will probably be severely jet=lagged and bedridden for the first 2 or 3 days, but after that, we will have to get together and swap stories and hang out. . . oh and I am making a HEARTY trip to a local sushi joint upon my return!!!

The FranciscansThe Franciscan friars have been in the Holy Land for over seven centuries proclaiming the message of Jesus Christ through the vision of St. Francis of Assisi. St. Francis was a peaceful man who preached peace and gentleness through the example of his life. The Franciscans attempt to imitate his example. The Franciscans are not involved in anything controversial. They are simply there. They do not take the side of the Palestinians, nor do they take the side of the Israelis. They just stay in the Holy Land and do what they do.

So, what do they do?

The Franciscans engage in many ministry opportunities. Their main charge in the Holy Land is to guard Christian shrines. For example, the Franciscans in Bethlehem (who I stayed with) were there guarding the

shrine that the Catholic church has validated as the birthplace of Christ. Other friars guard similar places of spiritual significance. When I say ‘guard,’ I don’t truly use the word accurately. They neither carry nor own weapons, nor would they be capable of repelling an invading force. Therefore, they essentially ‘guard’ the shrines with their very lives, and many friars over the centuries have been martyred for just that reason.

The Franciscans also work with the poor in their respective region. In Bethlehem, for example, they operate a school for the Palestinian children. Thousands of poor Palestinian children, who would otherwise have no education, are taught to read and write, along with the basics of Christian and other ideological concepts.

One of the other things the Franciscans do is to provide inexpensive (and often free) accommodations to Christian pilgrims. The holy sites of the world evoke a significant spiritual power to those who visit. Those who visit these places and carefully meditate on the Biblical events that have taken place there often leave with greater belief, trust, and spiritual fervency. The friars support that by allowing pilgrims to stay in places operated by them to help facilitate their journey. The friars allowed me to stay with them for free and were most generous throughout my stay.

My observations of their vowsAll of the Franciscans (except 3rd Order Franciscans who are rare) take vows of Poverty, Obedience, and Celibacy. My instant question upon talking to most of them was, “How in the world can you take a vow of celibacy? Isn’t it difficult? How do you do it?” Almost universally, they said the same thing. They all agree that of the three vows, it is celibacy that is the easiest to fulfill. They all agree that the most difficult vow is obedience.

Yet, back to celibacy for a moment. All of the friars agree that celibacy is the easiest vow. But, my question is, “why keep it in the first place?” The friars claim that remaining celibate and not focusing on having a wife and family, leaves them free and able to live an undistracted life of service. Well, that seemed a little fishy to me.

However, the way they served me, and the way they served each other seemed to bare out their case. I’ve simply never seen anything like it before; not in America; not anywhere. They took service to a new level. No one ever had to be asked to do anything . . . they simply did it. At meal times, they would take food around to each other, clean up after the meal was over, and set the table for the next meal. No one failed to do their share; each person served their fellow brother.

I do have to say that I found their vow of poverty to be a joke. Mealtimes were filled with huge portions, and even a beer or glass of wine during special meals. The monastery has several nice automobiles and a couple computers. Each friar has access to his own room, has nice casual clothes, and is given a small stipend of spending money. The friars are far from poor.

I asked some of them what the deal was and they said that they PERSONALLY have very few possessions. Everything is owned by the monastery. In other words, if they were to walk away from the Order, they would walk away with nothing. Yet it seems to me that their personal vow is in danger of being nullified by their corporate prosperity.

One particular observationThere was one thing that especially gripped me during my time with the Friars and it happened every night at dinner. As I had said before, the Friar’s mission in the Holy Land is to guard the shrines that they have there . . . and many have lost their lives doing it. Each night at dinner, the Friars bless the food and then everyone sits. One Friar will then read off a list of the Friars through the centuries that have given their lives as martyrs. Every night they solemnly read off the names of their brothers, every night they remember and renew their commitment, and every night they realize that they may be asked by God at any moment to pay the ultimate price for their faith.

Father Severino Lubecki (Severyn)Of all of the friars that I met during my stay at the monastery, I had the most fun with Father Severino. Severino is an incredibly intelligent and funny man. He is 34 years old, speaks excellent English and we had a super time together. Severino knows the Bible like the back of his hand (he has a doctorate in Philosophy) and loves to joke around. He is a short and balding priest from Poland, but don’t let that fool you, he was anything but boring. Severino listened to R&B and rap music, loud Islamic dance tunes, and a host of eclectic tapes and CDs. As we drove, he continually played one particular tape by a woman named Gina T. By the end of our time together, I knew most of the words to all of the songs. Two songs stood out during the week, “Summertime” and “Tokyo by Night.” Severino’s favorite movies are Forest Gump and The Bodyguard.

In a community of servants, no servant stood out more than Severino. He single-handedly saved the tourism portion of my pilgrimage. He spent many hours of his time driving me around and was patient, generous, and humble. Without Severino, I would have likely missed Caesarea Phillip, Acre, the Galilee region, Masada, the Dead Sea, and would have had to expend hundreds of dollars on various tours. God often brings people into our lives at certain times for specific reasons. God brought Severino to help make my Israeli trip a success. Without Severino’s kindness and servanthood, I would have missed out on much.

I don’t know why I liked Severino so much. He was very likable. He had an incredibly enjoyable sense of humor and an infectious laugh. I think under the surface we may have been very much alike in many respects. I knew that I would miss him greatly and we pledged to stay in touch after I left. He was a real Godsend . . . and will always be a good friend.

Ibrahim SabbaghGil introduced me to Ibrahim as soon as I got to the monastery and he was one of the friars who spoke very good English. I had the opportunity to spend a lot of time with him and we became good friends. Ibrahim was from Syria and had a brother who was also a seminarian. I spent a long time with Ibrahim. He was one of the people I “connected” with. We went to Jerusalem together and enjoyed a long conversation while walking around Bethlehem. Before I left, I gave him a nice pair of gym shorts that I brought from America. I really miss Ibrahim and his friendly personality and warm smile.

Gabi KalakGabi was a Palestinian Christian who I spent a lot of time with while I was in Bethlehem. Gabi also spoke very good English and had a very funny sense of humor. Gabi was nice enough to drive me into Jerusalem one morning so that I could go on a scheduled tour. We never ended up finding the tour company, but we did end up having lots of fun.

To the othersEach of the friars held a special place in my heart by the end of the week. Yousef (Joubbi) accompanied Gil and I during my birthday and he was very friendly and kind. I also was able to eat with him one night when we were down by the Shepherd’s Fields. I wish I could have spoken to him, but he spoke little English and I don’t speak anything but! Zaher (Abboud) and Andres picked me up at the airport and he was very nice for my entire stay. I could tell that he had a very good sense of humor. Most of the time I sat next to Bernardo (Lawand) at dinner. It was funny, he seemed so nice and friendly, but we couldn’t speak to each other unless Gil translated. Still, all of the Friars were like that. I really miss them and wish I could go back.

SummaryThe Franciscan friars were men of great faith and service to me. They were warm, they were friendly, they were extremely generous, and they were a remarkable example of Christian love. I want to take this opportunity to acknowledge the role that the Franciscans Friars of the Holy Land played in making my pilgrimage a complete success.

Andres (Gil) MedinaThere is little I can say about my friend Gil. Without Gil, I wouldn’t have been able to go on the pilgrimage and for that alone, I owe him much. Gil and I have been friends since I attended Lee College back in 1993, and for me to be hanging out with him in Bethlehem and Jerusalem is more than a little weird, it is surreal to say the least. Still, while his name has changed and his threads have changed, he is still the same ole’ Gil. I had tremendous times with Gil and will always value his friendship.

There are also some great photos of the Franciscan Friars of Bethlehem on the following website: http://198.62.75.1/www1/ofm/sites/TSbtpix04.html