Relentless

10 May

I keep thinking about him. There was something shocking about him anyway.  Besides for what he was doing I mean  He looked like a caricature drawing of God, but without the lighting bolts buzzing out of his hands towards earth.

He stood there, in the middle of the street shouting out.  Not looking at anyone.  But I looked at him.  I stared like he was a car wreck of a human life.  I almost mocked him. Almost.

It was Isaiah, the book of Isaiah; yelling it out as if he himself had written this ancient text the day before.    There was no emotion in his face, but his voice.  Oh my God, his voice, like a deep booming drum, beating out of his throat.  Such holy words framed with such a fearful voice.

I hear he’s relentless.  I’m told he’s memorized most all the books of the prophets.  Ezekiel, Jeremiah, Joel, Malachi and on any certain day he is out in the streets of Jerusalem reciting Hebrew Scriptures like his own dramatic monologue.  He must be scoffed, and perhaps he’s crazy, yet he is relentless.

What would drive a man to do such strange things?  Surely he’s not actually helping God reach out to human lives?  God couldn’t possibly….

Relentless.  Am I relentless about anything?  Music?  No.  Love?  Sometimes.  God?  I dont know.

I know, I know, I don’t need to trumpet out entire passages of confusing scripture in order to prove my relational prowess with God.  And nor will I.  I am however challenged to look at my own sloppy heart and search it.  God, what in me requires more relentlessness?  More specifically, your relentlessness?

You who make mention of the Lord, do not be silent and give Him no rest.  – Isaiah

Week in Review – Israel

13 Apr

Thoughts from Peter about Israel:

Week 1 registered relatively low on the actual biblical event meter. I noticed the special vibe of Israel and I don’t know how much of that is in between my ears, meaning based on impressions I already had from the “Christian perspective”. The main thing that fascinates me about this place (even before we arrived) is that NOW–in the present day–exists this piece of land (about the size of New Jersey) that to this day is a tangible gift from the Divine to a specific group of people. For all of the disobedience and fighting, forsaking and forgetting, this place is still His gift to His people and somehow this matters to us today, even as Gringos grafted into the True Vine. Just ask Paul: Romans 11 helps to show how we are connected to the Jews.

We did stay in Kesalon, (Samson’s hood) and made a few brief trips into J-town, but no real biblical action, unless drinking Maccabee Beer counts.

Until this week…

There are many “Holy sites” that more or less are improvable and based on tradition, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I’m trying to approach all this with a healthy attitude (i.e. conscienscious skepticism) and not as a dumb American tourist that believes it all without question. So, I want the real deal. And I think I got some this week.

Thankfully, the Sea of Galilee hasn’t been moved and so much Gospel action went down here that even if you aren’t standing at the exact location of the Jordan River that John baptized Jesus (“Yeshua” around here) there is this very weird sense that someone famous was just here and strangely enough will be back shortly. I’m not got to get all weird on you here; I just have to express some of my experience.

The weird thing about being here where it all happened is that the Gospel is no longer just a story. I mean, I knew that it was real, but there are levels of real. A priest here wrote a book called “Israel: The Fifth Gospel” and even without reading it I think I know what he means. He suggests that Israel itself helps tie the four stories together and unlocks much of its deeper meaning.

This isn’t the place to even start to address that now, so I’ll stop there and let my wife speak.

Also, be encouraged. At the Church of the Beatitudes there is a full bar outside, so you can contemplate the scripture over a tasty glass of whatever in the garden (just like Austin).

From Joy:

I’m not sure that I can add more to what Peter has so thoughtfully written.  Israel, is all too normal a place for me.  The Holy Sites typically bore me, and I find myself trying to look at it all with a fresh perspective.  How to do that is challenging and I’m not certain that I’m doing it well.  Peters curiosity is charming and perhaps catching.  I find that hearing his thoughts help renew mine.

Things that Ive missed or forgotten about:  two buttons on the toilet, for those times when you need a big flush or a little flush (and we all have those times).  Fish served with its head still on, his frozen open eyes accusing you of his death.  Pita bread so fresh it’s still warm when you take it home from the store.  Dry, dry air.  Poppies in the most ironic places. Not letting the water run when you brush your teeth (water is precious commodity here).  Open air markets where they let you take a piece of fruit from their stand for free. Caffe afook – Upside down coffee.

We miss you all, and think of you during this Holy Week.  May the resurrection be alive in your heart bringing wonder and hope.

With love,

peter and joy.

Six Million

6 Apr

April 25th at 10am a siren screams into the sky.  Peter and I are walking to the Kotel (western wall). We are steps away from the entrance of the wall, when the siren cuts through air.  For two minutes we stand silent and still as the siren cries out in remembrance of the six million Jewish men, women and children that were murdered during the Holocaust.

For two minutes, we stand in solidarity with every other Israeli to remember and never forget that their country was born out of the ashes of the Holocaust.  Just three years after the end of WWII, just three years after the end of six million lives, just three years after the end of their slavery from a Nazi Pharaoh, a child of promise was born Israel.

For two minutes we stand with the six million people who now reside in Israel; the six million who live remember the six million who died.

For a moment I gaze down at the smoothed white stone under my feet.  I think I have no idea what this moment truly means, and I am uncomfortable.  I look up and see around me a crowd of motionless people.  Individuals stop, step out of buildings, traffic stops, drivers step out of their cars, all transactions stop.  For two minutes Israelis rest from moving, doing, going, walking, eating, talking; silence is required.  Silence is truly the most appropriate response.

For two minutes an entire nation is still.  One hundred and twenty seconds of memory for the six millions lives that ended, just sixty years ago.

We Made it – Israel.

1 Apr

we have posted our pictures from today here.

Our first day in Israel

We made it!  After 17 longs hours, and three different countries we arrived in Tel-Aviv.  Our first day was spent mostly sleeping, jet lag brings with it the type of heavy sleep that makes you feel more like you are dreaming when you’re awake then when you sleep.

My friends live in a Moshav and have a quaint little farm near Jerusalem.   We had home-made challah for breakfast, smoked fish and vodka for lunch and snacked on fresh strawberries and cream for dinner.

Somewhere in between our sleeping we ventured out of the house and walked around the neighborhood (this neighborhood is mentioned in Joshua 15, as the home of Samson).  A friend of ours came with us, and took us on a beautiful trail that led to an artful holocaust memorial.

It’s about 11pm now and we are listening to Son House on the CD player and trying to stay warm.  It’s a little cold in these Judean hills at night.

grace &

joy.

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