Learning in Israel

As we travel through Israel, we learn a little about the people who live here. We learn about Israelis, Israeli Arabs, Kibbutzim, and bedouins. The Israeli Arabs call themselves Palestinians. The three major religious affiliations are Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. Most Christians are in Jerusalem and are Armenians, Coptic, Russian Orthodox, Roman Catholic, and Romanian Orthodox.

Our journey south from the lush vegetation in Galilee to the arid desert in the south was a contrast in climate and in culture. As we headed to Bethlehem we passed Bedouins living in tents along the road and learned of their radical hospitality to friend and stranger. While passing the Palestinian town of Jericho we learned that the wealthier Arabs live in Galilee and the poorer ones live in Bethlehem and Jericho.

As we approached Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus, our guide informed us that he and the driver would not be able to enter the town because they were Israeli. They both disembarked at the border and an Arab driver boarded the bus and drove us through the checkpoint into Bethlehem.

The border crossing was just wide enough for the bus to enter. There were armed guards and a steel reinforced concrete wall that was at least 30 feet high, and a sign that announced that Israeli citizens were not permitted to enter. I felt a twinge of guilt because as an American I was permitted to enter Bethlehem. Had we betrayed our guide and driver by entering this place? That sign could have easily said "no blacks or jews" or ...(fill in the blank).

This experience caused me to reflect on the diversity of our group and of our diocese. In Long Island, we are rich and poor and everything in between. We are multi-ethnic, multi-racial, multi-cultural, multi-national... We are many people, yet one diocese.

What can we learn from Israel? The most important lesson is that walls, physical or emotional, do not solve problems. We do not belong to Paul, or Apollos, or a priest, or a parish. We don't own anything; we are stewards. What will be our legacy?

The Rev. Karen Davis-Lawson

Humbly I adore thee . . .

One of the first things that strikes you as you enter the city of Jerusalem through the Lion Gate is the golden glow that emanates from the buidlings. It's simply light falling on the sand-gold limestone that the buildings are made of, but it almost seems as if the city itself has a halo, inviting you to reverence and worship.

As we walked the Via Dolorosa today, I was struck by the multiple forms of reverence shown throughout the ages and even today. In the Crusader church of St Ann, our voices resounded long after we stopped singing, the echoes revoicing our praise. A jumbled pile of large crosses by the ninth station bears testimony to the Friday tradition of carrying a cross while following in the footsteps of our Savior. In a small church, an Ethiopian priest kept vigil, wrapped in a traditional shawl of black with maroon stripes. And in the church of the Holy Sepulcher, women in headscarfs chatted loudly to one another, black-clad Orthodox priests lined the route of a procession, people knelt and kissed the holy places, others lit candles and offered them in prayer, and still others stood in reverent silence.

Reverence lies in the act of worshipping or paying homage to Christ. We do it when we sing and when we pray, when we genuflect or make the sign of the cross, even when we dress in our Sunday best. And yet each of these can become perfunctory, habitual actions that have lost their essential connection with our Savior. It's at times like these that being exposed to other, less familiar forms of reverence invites us to a new experience of worship and awe.

The Rev. Dr. Raewynne Whiteley

Bishop and Mrs. Provenzano

Overlooking the city of Jerusalem.

They're everywhere!

"It ain't the heat, it's the humility." ~ Yogi Berra

At the sites of Jesus' suffering and death

Photo 1 - the stone of anointing, where tradition indicates that Mary and the other women anointed the body of Jesus for burial;

Photo 2 - the site of the Crucifixion of Jesus;

Photo 3 - the 11th century doors of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher;

Photo 4 - the Coptic Monastery in the area of the tomb of Jesus.

"Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and placed it in his own new tomb that he had cut out of the rock. He rolled a big stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and went away. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there opposite the tomb." (Matthew 27:59-61)

"When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus’ body." (Mark 16:1)

"Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot. They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?” “They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” (John 20:11-13)

"For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!" (Paul's Letter to the Romans, 5:10)

At the place of judgment

"When Pilate heard this, he brought Jesus out and sat down on the judge’s seat at a place known as the Stone Pavement (which in Aramaic is Gabbatha)."

(John 19:13)

Rich Days

Jerusalem February 18, 2011

The pilgrimage is going well. There has been a faithful mix of
religious sights, national interests and relaxed playfulness.
The clergy, spouses/partners have been terrific. There exists a
respectful sweet balance of personal time and community time. The bus
has become a rolling kibbutz (community center of prayer, conversation
and learning).

We have experienced so much in such a short period of time that we
each ache for time of reflection and expression. Our community meeting
last evening was a rich mixture of sharing information and short
homilies.

Today was a playful day of cable cars to Masada, flooring in the Dead
Sea, and literally breaking into the sight at Qumran because the start
of sabbath brought an early closure of the sight.

Today we experinced a deepening our our small community as we lingered
over supper, shared stories and learned new things about ourselves
and each other.

Our clergy and their spouses/partners have been extremely generous and
open. The pilgrimage is drawing us all into deeper relationships and
stretching the limits of faithful response to be one body in Christ.

Tomorrow we enter the Old City and begin to walk the stories and
mysteries of Our Lord mixed with the history of Judaism and Islam
that share this Holy City.



Bishop Lawrence C. Provenzano

Shabbat Shalom in Jerusalem

Today, when we returned to the hotel in Jerusalem after a busy day visiting Masada and the Dead Sea, the lobby was full of little girls in black party dresses, white tights, and black Mary Janes, brothers in black trousers and white shirts, and their parents, preparing to celebrate the Sabbath. Extended families gathered in the downstairs dining room, while upstairs, a rabbi with long curls and white robe and cap taught a group of young adults the Sabbath rituals. And at another table in the lobby, three preteen boys in khakis and sneakers seem to be arguing with an older sister about what card game to play, while a younger kid in a plaid shirt begs to be allowed to join in. If the babble of voices and laughter is any indication, this is a joyous time to be savored, in which family and faith are inextricably entwined.


As Christians, our the closest thing to the Sabbath is Sunday. For most of us, the days of roast dinner - or pasta and meatballs - for Sunday lunch - are long gone. And I don't think I'd want to go back to the days of blue laws and enforced churchgoing three times each Sunday. But I wonder if we have lost something in the process. Sundays are busy, filled with soccer or shopping or the incessant demands of chores. Family and faith so easily become relegated to the time left over, or perhaps even displaced altogether. And even when we make them a priority, they are often marked by sullen teenagers and harassed parents and overtired toddlers. And I wonder, what can we take home for our own weekly celebration of the resurrection?

The Rev. Dr. Raewynne Whiteley