The Christian Tour

On the Christian tour now….we are singing a Christian song as I type. Feeling way out of place, but will figure it out. I’m just not used to the Christian stuff. The outward, tangible expressions of Christianity. Not that there aren’t any present at my church. But, where I come from, personal expression of religion is expressed in a more conservative manner. Maybe I have boxed myself into my creative interpretation of what I believe is Christianity. Anything outside of the comfort zone of Christianity I have created makes me highly uncomfortable.
Last night I met my roommate Debra Waldman who is friends with Peggy Knockman- an amaingly kind woman who used to babysit me when I was a little girl… such a small world. I immediately met three of the pastors of Christ Fellowship, his wife and the circle of people surrounding him. They were very welcoming as I waited for Meredith and Richard to arrive on the last bus. I met great people, whom were all exhausted from their flight from Florida. I dropped of my outrageous bright orange backpacking backpack in my amazingly large, spacious room across from the beach at the Dan Panorama hotel. I met my roommate who was surprised that I was there, funnily enough. (Apparently she wasn’t expecting me until next week) She is the sweetest lady, and introduced me to all her friends. We ate dinner together, chatted about what journeys in their lives brought them here, why they are taking this trip. One of the ladies was a Québécois and quite well traveled. Another was this tall blonde woman who reminded me of me a little. She loves traveling, adventure and was all about going for a walk, seeing the neighborhoods and going into the sketchy places where tourists really shouldn’t go. After a HUGE buffet dinner (as in ridiculously huge- extensive-aromatic- delicious-did I say huge?!?) I took everyone for a walk down the pier- showed them the main sights, pointed out the port and city of Yaffa and ended up explaining a lot of history that I knew about the area. For example, there are so many cats in Israel because when the British came to occupy Palestine they brought cats with them because there was such a large problem with rats. Ever since they brought them over after WW1 the cats have been breeding like rats (how ironic!) and overwhelm the streets.
I slept so well and boarded the bus after an overwhelming breakfast. We are now on our way to Caesarea. Here are some of the questions asked on the tour bus this morning: Is the name Jew derogatory? How long is the school day? What is Zionism? Are you Christian? What are main industries in Israel? How much is gas? (Answer $8.50/gallon) Everyone on my tour was genuinely sweet, one of my favorite characteristics of Christians in general; they tend to be such kind-hearted people, emanating an inner joy. We were divided into 5 buses and were off. Caesarea was beautiful, with seaside beaches which reminded me of Prince Edward Island. Gently jagged rocks with slow waves and bits of beach, the Roman amphitheater was beautifully positioned, conveniently located next to the ancient palace of King Herod. This king was manic-depressive and basically killed everyone who was close to him including his wife, children and advisors. The story of Paul was told about him witnessing. To be honest, I was confused with the Christian connection they were making except for the fact that a disciple Paul was put on trial here. The Pastor gave a great sermon that focused on sharing your faith, which I don’t necessarily agree with unless someone asks you about your personal beliefs, but I listened with an open mind and an attempt at an open heart. I am trying so passionately to figure out what I believe, why I am here and how the heck I have gotten here. How is it that, the girl who wanted to become a senator has lived abroad basically now for 4 semesters and wants to move abroad to work with NGO’s become me?
At lunch I sat with a sweet elderly lady who spoke with me about her life (literally the whole thing) over an hour of a falafel lunch. Another woman asked me if I spoke Jewish. I giggled. (But of course I said, yes I am learning to speak Hebrew.)
I want to believe what I believe because I believe it. While that may seem obvious, so many are Jewish, Christian or Muslim, Zoroastrian, or whatever, simply because that is the religion they were born into. Not me. My faith is just that, mine. To discover, to cradle, to hold, to honor, I want a faith to be confident in. I want to know why I believe something. But most importantly I want to know why I believe in this and not in all the other religions.
On the tour we saw Mt. Carmel, the valley of the Armageddon, the supposed sight of Earth’s final battle, the hill where Jesus was chased up because he read the wrong section of the Torah (and the Jews were not happy about him claiming to be a messiah- this Jesus boy they knew growing up with) and parts of Nazareth. Our bus almost fell off of this hill, which was a high point. We all had to disembark unload luggage out of the back of the bus so it wouldn’t fall over the side of the mountain, and get locals to assist us with tying ropes to the bottom of the van and all the men pulling it up. I’m waiting for some kind of feeling. I’m not expecting a burning bush God like appearance but I want a feeling, I want to be able to take that leap of faith into whatever I believe. It is starting to come together, to make sense. I’ll explain soon I suppose. (When it all becomes able to be expressed concisely)