Finished week 4. Jerusalem. What more is there to say?
Monday I arrived here. Father Roman drove me up from Beersheva, but not without stopping at the Sisters of Bethlehem convent so he could say the Mass for them. I love that place, and so far it’s my favourite destination. And I’ve heard there’s a monastery of the same order somewhere here in Israel. I wonder if the brothers there can keep up.
The weather in Jerusalem. Wow, it’s nice. Beersheva was a dry cooker. Jerusalem is more highly elevated and has these lovely cool evenings. Even the daytime temperatures have not hit the heights I’d experienced previously. It rained a little this morning, a welcome break from the constant sun and heat.
Tuesday my tasks began in earnest. Cleaning and getting materials ready for the big “Yoam Keheeloat” (Day of Congregations), a twice-yearly gathering of all the Hebrew-speaking Catholic communities in Israel. Not everyone comes, of course, but they manage to attract over 200 parishioners from all over the country. So I power-washed things that had been kept in storage. Then I turned my attention to the house itself, sorting out the kitchen and pantry, and cooking some of my pauper food—pasta and rice and a veggie stew. I know a couple of Hebrew songs to sing while I work, mostly psalms from the Bible. Singing them in Hebrew in Jerusalem is no small thing.
The Jerusalem house is like the Beersheva house only a lot bigger: rooms for working and staff living, with a beautiful chapel on the bottom floor. It’s an old Franciscan building loaned to the Hebrew-speaking Catholics so they could have their own worship and administrative spaces. The head priest of all the Hebrew-speaking Catholic communities, Father Piotr (originally from Poland) is pure energy, combined with high intelligence and a very quick wit—a deadly combination! I don’t even pretend to be able to keep up with him. I just try to smile at him and be the best newbie I can be in his orbit. His care and love for people is impossible to miss.
Father Benny (originally from Italy, and ordained here in Israel) is the priest who oversees this particular Jerusalem congregation. He’s funny, very energetic, artistic (singing, painting, poetry, writing) and great with people young and old, even if he admits to sometimes not always having an overabundance of sympathy and patience. He expects a lot from himself, and his work here is demanding, rarely affording him much downtime.
In Beersheva I got dosed bits of Hebrew as I could take it in. Jerusalem is big-time Hebrew, like a burger you can’t even begin to get your mouth around. Father Piotr asked me mid-week what I thought of their (somwhat complex) worship style. “Some days the confusion is manageable,” I said, “Some days it’s dizzying. Today it’s dizzying.” He simply listened and nodded—I don’t expect him the adjust the challenge level of this adventure for me. Sometimes just telling the truth out loud is therapy enough.
A bit of time off allowed me to do some of work for folks back home and get out for short and long walks. You see, I’m ten minutes’ walk from the Old City. So it behooves me to get out there and do some easy exploration as much as I can. I’m certainly not in the tourist mindset—I’ve got bigger internal fish to fry. But big-name sights aside, it is great to be exposed to the incredible beauty of many architectural and artistic masterpieces as they exist here.
Saturday was the big community day. At my favourite place—the Sisters of Bethlehem convent. The area, known as Bet Shemesh (House of the Sun), gets little cloud and a lot of heat, and is also popular for orchards and vineyards. They have a great big open space where we suspended a giant shade awning. Mass was first, then pot-luck lunch for 200 people (!), then the entertainment for the afternoon. Maybe I ate a lot or too much, but I’m not saying.
For this event, Father Benny had spent many many days creating and perfecting an ingenious game of trivia, scripture knowledge, sport skills, musicality and such. He was the “game show host”, and everyone got divided into their communities as teams. Folks from Jerusalem (my team) wore something red that day. Of course I also cheered for my old Beersheva team, dressed in white. Father Benny made a giant game board and huge cardboard dice to throw. Coloured cones matched the team colours. It went on for nearly two hours! Everyone was having such a great time, sometimes cheering each other and sometimes jeering, too! The youth were totally into it and added to the sometimes mischievous game play. In the end, the small Russian-speaking community (green) won the first annual St. James Cup. The whole day was so touching. It was like watching a huge family worshipping together, eating together and playing together. Magic.
Sunday was rest for many (Easter for the Orthodox), and Father Piotr encouraged me to get out of the house and walk around the old city a bit. I stopped at some spots I knew (Holy Sepulchre, Western Wall), and wandered some of the narrow and winding side streets. What a fascinating place. Of course the souvenir shops and trinket traps were there, along with a few more authentic places where it was easy to recognize locals enjoying food or picking up essentials. I saw the sandal vendor that Father Benny told me about—the one that doesn’t charge tourist prices. I’ve been wanting a nice pair of leather sandals since I arrived, and I’ll go back later this week to pick up at least one pair.
It’s true: 1) The cold water tap here does not give cold water—I do not call 25 degrees “cold”. If you want a hot shower, have one closer to sundown, when the water tanks on the roof have warmed up nicely, and the solar exchanger adds even more sun heat. 2) I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to flipping the light switch UP to turn the lights OFF. Makes. No. Sense.
Thankful for: a challenge far greater than I can manage. It forces me to reach higher than I thought I would, and dig deeper than I thought I knew. It makes me reliant. This community is special, and it’s been my privilege to witness them daily doing their thing.
Pray for: people in power. You know, usually they work extra hard for those who put them in power. But those who opposed their ascendency, not so much. This is a human-wide phenomenon, seen starkly in various parts of the world and at different points in history. Could we ask the Great One (not named Gretzky) to impress on the hearts of rulers everywhere a sense of responsibility for every single person who lives under their dominion?
Peace be with you. Chat again soon.
Photos: 1) my Jerusalem room is very nice, with a few off-camera shelves that keep everything in a tidy space; 2) the Jerusalem chapel. Like Beersheva, the room sounds great and is such a peaceful space. And like Beersheva, the reflective surfaces make it impossible to do anything quietly in there; 3) the beautiful chaos of the Yoam Keheeloat potluck lunch enjoyed in the courtyard of the Sisters of Bethlehem convent.
