Dear Friends:
I had hoped to send out periodic emails from the Holy Land to you all with vignettes from the course on desert spirituality I was taking from St. George’s College, Jerusalem. This course fit in so beautifully with the Prayer of the Lamb, providing historical, geographical, cultural and spiritual background for hesychasm and the prayer of the heart, the spiritual roots of the Jesus Prayer. I did send three emails, but not everyone got them. So in this newsletter the three emails are strung together.
February 27
This is the first of a short series of emails from the Holy Land and the deserts that have birthed and fostered the Prayer of the Heart and devotion to the Name of Yeshua, Jesus. With the long flights comes an opportunity for meditation and reading, and the prayer beads in the hand found steady employment. I chose to take with me a copy of the Philokalia, a collection of writings covering several centuries of Eastern Orthodox saints and theologians, this copy being a selection of those writings related specifically to the practice of the Prayer of the Heart, the Jesus Prayer.
From the writings of the Patriarch Callistus and his fellow-worker Ignatius of Xanthopoulos, 14th Century, Mount Athos:
Our glorious teachers and preceptors, in whom liveth the Holy Spirit, wisely teach us all, especially those who have wished to embrace the field of Divine silence and consecrate themselves to God, having renounced the world to practice hesychasm with wisdom, and to prefer prayer to the Lord above any other work or care, begging His mercy with undaunted hope. Such [ones] should have, as their constant practice and occupation, the invoking of His holy and most sweet name, bearing it always in the mind, in the heart and on the lips. They should force themselves in every way possible to live, breathe, sleep and wake, walk, eat and drink with Him and in Him, and in general so to do all that they have to do. For as in His absence all harmful things come to us, leaving no room for anything to profit the soul, so in His presence all evil is swept away, no good is ever lacking and everything becomes possible, as the Lord Himself says: "He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit; for without me ye can do nothing" (John 15:5). Thus, unworthy as we are, we too call with faith on this most terrible and most worshipful name; and with His aid daringly set sail and launch forth…
And so I launch forth, prayer beads in hand and the Name of Yeshua in my heart.
I arrived at St. George's College by sherut, an inexpensive van-pool, in the short hour ride from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. The college is located adjacent to St. George's Anglican Cathedral in East Jerusalem just a couple of blocks north of the Damascus Gate into the Old City. The building that I am staying in is new, the fruit of the work of the late Dean Coombs of St. John's Cathedral, Spokane. When I first came to Jerusalem in 1989, he and Barbara Coombs were living in residence for a year at St. George's while he worked on getting building permits and dealing with endless bureaucracy. Each room for those attending the courses is named for a place or an event in the life of Jesus and is given in memory or thanksgiving by various people, My room is the Childhood of Jesus, giving in thanksgiving by John Peterson and his wife for their daughters. John Peterson, from the Diocese of Minnesota, was one of the deans of the college and went on from there to work for Archbishop of Canterbury John Carey. As I look around at the name plaques up and down the halls I recognize many names of those from the Episcopal Church in the USA showing our strong support for the ministry here. The hallway bears a plaque from St. Thomas, Medina. So I am surrounded by the familiar in the family of the church. And now I hear the bells calling for the first Eucharist of this Sunday morning.
Monday 2/28
Yesterday and today were spent in visiting again many of the holy sites that have so moved me in past visits, sharing them with others who had arrived for the course. Briefly what has impressed me is the few numbers of pilgrims. The streets in the Old City of Jerusalem look deserted in places, shops closed. There are no crowds and waiting lines at shrines. It seemed unreal that we could linger at prominent holy sites totally alone. The people living here all seem desperate. I was able to look closely at the huge wall that is being built throughout the land separating Palestinians and enclosing them. This wall is going completely around Bethlehem and will virtually imprison the entire city. I watched the lines at the check points of men returning home after a day's work in Jerusalem. We were passed on through easily, but all these men were being directed, or, more accurately, herded along together by young soldiers with guns. The effect on the sensibilities is chilling. How can this be taking place? Bishop Riah spoke to us this evening as the course got started, welcoming us, but also telling us about some of the huge difficulties indigenous Christians face. Here in the geographic center of the Gospel stories of our Lord, life is intensely lived, full of suffering and crying out to God. Yeshua, Lamb of God, have mercy on us.
March 4
After a few days in Jerusalem reacquainting myself with all of the precious holy sites associated with our Lord's life and ministry and death and resurrection, and the beginning of the course, we left for Egypt heading out across the various deserts we had to pass through on our way to Cairo and the Coptic churches and monasteries of Egypt. It was sort of like the Holy Family going to Egypt, and indeed I have come to know just how important this story of Jesus is to the Coptic Christians. There are deeply held traditions here about where the Holy Family traveled to, how long they stayed and all the various miracles that happened, all the springs of water that began at the hand of the Christ Child.
Our course of travel was to dip over Mount Scopus and down the backside of Jerusalem to Jericho and the Dead Sea heading down the Great Rift Valley following the frankincense route. So immediately we were plunged into the desert and into the many varieties of ways in which the desert manifests itself. All along the Dead Sea we saw a thin layer of crystallized salt on the ground leached out of the soil by the bits of rainfall and moisture in the area.
Then the route took us up through jagged hills of the most fierce appearance. This led us up to the central plateau area of the Sinai that goes on and on for miles, a wasteland of stones and sand. But it was amazing to see clumps of vegetation scattered throughout, small separate bushes and even trees, all looking very dry and withered with grayish-green leaves, but mostly composed of dead looking sticks and twigs. The shade they offered was sparse. Here and there we would see desiccated bits of human civilization, camels or donkeys wandering about (meaning that there were humans not too far off). Military check points appeared at intervals along the route.
Now we are in Cairo, the most heavily populated city of Egypt with air pollution that leaves the sky looking like Los Angeles only worse (not as bad as Kathmandu however). One can look directly at the sun. The pyramids are incredibly impressive, something I had wanted to see all my life. There is an interior resonance with these massive structures, the cleanness of design, enduring the millennia of the passage of time.
My introduction to the Coptic Church here in Egypt has been a wonderful discovery. Here is a member of the Body of Christ that delights in claiming its unique position as the first blessed by our Lord himself, when the Holy Family traveled throughout the land during their sojourn in Egypt. Many beautiful legends exist about this period of Jesus' life here, with churches founded on sites the Holy Family is said to have visited. Tomorrow we go to some of the monastic communities still in existence from the days of the Desert Fathers and Mothers.
March 16
The last message was from Cairo. Since then we have been really out in the desert in several locations, with not much access to email except in Amman, Jordan. But then our schedule didn't allow much free time for that. I didn't mind, however, as what we had on the course schedule was so full and so rich. The highlight has got to be the three days we spent out in the Sinai Desert with the Bedouins away from everything. Many of the Bedouins are Christians, and our guide, Dr. Rabiah, was both a great academician and at home in the desert. We had Bedouin drivers and cooks who provided excellent meals, and wherever we set up camp from out of nowhere the local sheik and some of his family would show up – the proverbial desert hospitality.
The monasteries were all incredible in terms of age, icons, history and relics. We were able to have some contact with monks and brief conversations, and our readings were all from scripture and the desert fathers. The lectures were great and our instructor, Henry Carse, led wonderful discussions that explored scripture and how the desert impacts life experience.
For me the desert became a place where all culture was stripped away, all presumption, all illusion. One is left humbled by the sheer intensity of environment. The desert demands respect. In the midst of all the expanse and bareness of geography in all its varied expressions of rock and stone, mountain and wadi, sky and sand, there is a fullness of presence of God. Yet that very presence of God is both hugely impersonal and at the same time excruciatingly intimate. Much like meditation...
Right now a verse in the Gospels is echoing in my ears, the words of Jesus:
"What did you come out into the desert to see?"
Blessings in the Lamb
Beverly
Today, back at home, with Holy Week now behind me, I find that the images of the desert and of the monasteries still swirl around inside my head. As I reflect on and process these intense three weeks, I continue to examine the question, “What did you come out into the desert to see?” The impact is still being integrated...
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