Homeward bound

It’s been a great and glorious adventure, and Frances and I head back to Chicago tomorrow, with deep gratitude for the beautiful people and places we have seen. It’s been grace filled.

And just because the Italians knew we were missing Chicago, it snowed.

If it’s Tuesday, it must be…

We’re enjoying our time in Italy immensely. So great to share it with good friends and family.

Sunday was spent on a walking tour of Florence (aka, Firenze; aka, really beautiful city). Up the campanile for a bird’s eye view. A couple hours in the Uffizi, where we saw works by Giotto, Botticelli, Caravaggio and a bunch of other folks whose names I knew at one point in the past. We crashed a Sunday morning liturgy which was stunningly beautiful.

Yesterday, we spent the day in bella Roma, walking from the Spanish Steps (sort of old) to the Pantheon (really old) to the Capitoline Hill (Renaissance old…nice job, Michelangelo) to the Forum (majorly old) to the Circo Massimo (ditto on the old) to the place I studied when I was in college (not so old but sure nostalgic) Interspersed, of course, were stops for lunch, espresso and several iterations of gelato, fortitude for the trek.

It’s fun to see this place with John Reid and Helen, who are making their first trip to Italy. Ciao for now.

Artsy shot, huh?

Hold the pepperoni

Frances and I have safely arrived in Italy and to celebrate our arrival we ordered pizza, delivered by this handsome young American on Spring Break.

One more church sign before we leave Israel

Today we traveled to see the Sea of Galilee, and at the lake side spot where a church has been erected to commemorate the post-resurrection morning when Jesus provided breakfast for his disciples, this sign is posted.

The hymn that’s been on my mind

The land of the Holy One

Okay, I’m a church rat, which means that way too often, texts of hymns and other bits of church lore spring to mind as a response to what I observe. And as I’ve spent the past few days in this part of the world, the line from the hymn “God of grace and glory” that comes to mind goes something like this: Cure thy children’s warring madness. (I’m away from my hymnal so I’m not sure that’s right and I’m not sure of the hymn number, but I am pretty certain text the text was written by Harry Emerson Fosdick, a great preacher of the past century.) This land is so beautiful, so holy, and so deeply divided. I’m new to this part of the world, so I don’t presume to suggest any analysis of the situation, or to say anything but how it has made me feel. The warring within Christian groups and between different faith traditions (just visit the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, “managed” by several denominations, or walk through the various quarters of the old city, divided between Jews, Christians, Armenians and Muslims) makes the heart ache for a sense that we are all God’s children. None of it is new. It’s been going on for centuries. And much of it strikes me as madness, in every sense of the word.

At the same time, the spiritual energy is palpable and deep. My outstretched hand seemed to vibrate at the wailing wall. And there is such an opportunity to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness in this place. But I felt both perplexed and saddened by the travails of this holy city, or as one person described it, this city of the holy one. There is still a church built on the Mount of Olives, marking the place where Jesus prayed with tears for the city of Jerusalem. The need for a place like that persists, after so many centuries. Pray today for the peace of Jerusalem, and perhaps you’d pray the closing refrain of Fosdick’s fine hymn, and maybe we’ll sing it soon together: Grant us wisdom, grant us courage for the facing of this hour.

Church signs

You may know of my hobby, collecting memorable church signs. I’m taking that tendency global.

A sign outside the church in the Garden of Gethsemane, an attempt to keep tour guides quiet.

It’s sinking in.

I’m walking around a city that David decided should be his capital, oh, about 3000 years ago.

I had dinner not far from the place where Solomon hired architects to build the temple.

I”m not far from where Jeremiah went into the public square about 600 years before Jesus showed up and told the people news they didn’t want to hear.

I’m able to look out on the hills where Jesus taught and healed and died.

I can’t quite absorb it all, but it’s sinking in.

Prayers for peace

I may just be making this up, but I seem to remember this factoid: Martin Luther, in the thick of his reformation activity, prayed four hours a day. When someone asked him whether he wasn’t simply too busy to pray that much, he said: “I’m too busy not to.”

As we’ve moved from place to place, visiting locales which have in the past been marked by challenge, injustice and conflict, a theme in our travels has been the call to pray for peace.

Our first Sunday we worshipped at the Cathedral in Capetown, a religious community critical to the changes made in South Africa in the 1990′s. I heard again how Desmond Tutu, no matter how busy he was or where he was, made time for the daily office, for times of silence, for the eucharist. Never too busy to pray.

We come to Jerusalem, and we worshipped last night at St. George’s Cathedral, gathering for Evensong, a service offered a cappella, which made me so grateful for the ministry of Dr. Horisberger and our fine choirs. But as we worshipped in that space, accompanied by a large tour group from Holland, we prayed for peace. The priest spoke in his meditation about the prayerful role of the Christian community, a small minority but one called to pray for peace.

And as I’ve been privileged to witness here, the prayer comes not only in words, in moments of silence, but also in action that leads to the healing of nations. As you pray today, pray for the peace of Jerusalem.

Out of Africa

Two days ago, with sweet sadness, we got into a minivan that took us from the Rift Valley Children’s Village to the lodge near the base of Mt. Kilimanjaro, and even closer to the airport. The next morning we flew from that airport to the beautiful island of Zanzibar then to Dar Es Salaam where we changed planes and flew to Johannesberg so we could catch a flight to Tel Aviv. For those of you with recollection of geometry, we have refuted the axiom that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.

We feel so very privileged to have had three weeks in Africa. We met many saints, had many God sightings and come away with gratitude for all those who do God’s work in this stunningly beautiful part of the world. It will take some processing to absorb it all. The needs defy comprehension.

And this morning we woke up at the Tel Aviv airport. We are staying at St. George’s Guest House right outside the walls of Old Jerusalem. It is the fulfillment of a dream I’ve held for a long time, to see this holy place and feel its holy power. We will be here for about five days. Frances brings me to amazing places.

A great bonus: David Stout, one of my best friends, one of the priests I admire most is staying at St. George’s as well with his partner, Bobby Clement. It’s going to wonderful to have them with us this week.

It’s pouring rain right now. As soon as it stops, we’ll go exploring, then Evensong here at the Cathedral at 6. Blessings to all on this second Sunday of Lent.

Picture the Garden of Eden

A few miles from the school where we are staying, one enters the Ngorongoro Crater Park, created a few years ago by a volcano that blew its stack and caved in to form an amazing, big, green bowl nestled in the mountains. Yesterday, we spent the day exploring this wonder of the world. I had never thought much about what the Garden of Eden might have looked like, but this place is a contender. A beautiful green landscape, dotted with watering holes. No buildings visible anywhere. Very few trees. Dirt roads allowing vehicles to roam and see God’s creatures living in what seems to be peaceful coexistence. Reminds me of the peaceable kingdom, the lion lying down with the lamb (Brings to mind Woody Allen, who offered this paraphrase of the prophet Isaiah: The lion shall lie down with the lamb, and the lamb shalt be very very nervous. But I digress). Now, I’m sure there are squabbles, as in any family. I suspect that some of these animals are invited over for dinner, and find themselves served up as the main course. But the serenity of this scene gave a glimmer of what the creator’s original attention might have been. Zebras, lions, rhinos, hippos, elephants, all sorts of antelope, water buffalo, birds in amazing variety, including 6 million flamingos (I counted). One of many gifts we have received on this journey.