regardless repetition

Those of you who like to fb-stalk me will already be familiar with this, but since I've been so delinquent in my bloggenation since returning home, I thought I would recycle this little tidbit for my followers' delight. The following is a little article I was asked to write for the Ambrose email update/website regarding SSHL 2010. Enjoy!




I have already written quite a bit about my experiences on this year's Summer School in the Holy Land travel venture, but I have the feeling that it will be a long time before I run out of material to process on the page. As far as my internal clock is concerned, one week in Syria, another in Jordan, and three more in Israel might as well have comprised a complete and separate lifetime; the me who explored Petra and Damascus, swam in the Sea of Galilee, and wandered the crowded streets of Old Jerusalem might as well be a different me than the one who walked the stage at Ambrose's graduation ceremony just days before departing down the ancient paths. I am still attempting to figure out how such a seeming vastness of time could be contained within five short weeks and why such an immensity of change should occur within one tall girl, but I suppose I could at least start by saying that this was not your average travel tour.

Charles Nienkirchen, the man behind the Down Ancient Paths travel study program, planned our itinerary very intentionally. His goal was not only to have us see the famous holy sites and walk where Jesus walked; he wanted us to understand the timeline of Christian presence in the greater Holy Land, the purpose behind pilgrimage, the role of the land in the identity of its inhabitants, the essence of desert spirituality and monasticism, the ongoing conflicts between and within the three monotheistic religions, and the controversies that date back centuries before the formation of the State of Israel. So, we followed guides from every cultural and religious background imaginable. We attempted—somewhat unsuccessfully—to dialogue with the mufti of Damascus and other Islamic scholars. We heard about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict from all the major perspectives, as well as some minor ones. We learned about Islamic, Jewish, and Christian theology and history both in the classroom and out in the land. Despite our misgivings and physical setbacks, we embarked on long, sweaty treks to visit monasteries that did not want to be visited. We frequently crossed from Jerusalem into Bethlehem by way of the checkpoint in the looming security wall that keeps the West Bank out of Israel, and (supposedly) vice versa. We did all these things so that we would see that the place we call the Holy Land is as rife with the unholiness of conflict, double standards, and hypocrisy as it is infused with history and beauty.

On a few occasions during the five weeks, our scraggly band of sojourners got together for the sole purpose of sharing our impressions from the journey. Although we were a diverse group whose members ranged from ages nineteen to seventy-nine, our common ground was surprisingly expansive. We were able to discuss difficult things with one another even though we had been perfect strangers when we gathered at the airport. I think this is because we were faced with both extremely painful and truly awe-inspiring things within a context that necessitated our holistic reliance on each other. So we could sip Bedouin tea in the Jordanian desert, watch the moon rise over the Galilee, and look out over Bethlehem from our classroom at Tantur Ecumenical Institute while safely sharing our very personal epiphanies with one another.

Summer School in the Holy Land was a watershed in both my walk of faith and my academic journey; my brain is still buzzing as I attempt to apply my transformative realizations to my worldview, my plans for the future, and my understanding of God, and so I am sure that the trip is not anywhere near finished for me. Although technically and simplistically speaking I went to the Middle East to explore the ancient roots of modern religions, I would not use any of those words to sum up what I have taken away from the trip. Instead I would say that Summer School in the Holy Land has made me desire to continue experiencing the pangs of the heart as it births new loves, the desperation of the soul as it thirsts for justice, and the eagerness of the mind to dispel its ignorance. And I will remain thankful that this venture re-fueled me in my search to find God in every land, every people group, and every controversy, and to see him more clearly when I do.