Joy Ride!

Eat and enjoy!

Eating in the dining hall at Tantur for our first few days was a gift! Tantur is a study centre for visiting scholars. Those who come without families, or for a short time, stay in rooms, not apartments or cottages, and for them there is a large dining hall, bright with high-ceilings, where sunlight streams through the windows onto neat rows of tables. The food is hearty, plentiful and a fascinating blend of local and western cuisines. If you don’t like cumin-flavoured coleslaw with pita and humus, don’t worry; there’s bound to be cake for dessert! (I like the coleslaw, myself!)

One day, after a delicious lunch, Father Tim (Tantur's director) asked if we’d like to join him on an errand into Jerusalem so he could show us the bigger stores – bigger than in Bethlehem. I prepared a grocery list, realizing, with sinking heart, that my cooking-free days were almost over. We piled into the Tantur van and off we drove, down through the castle-like gate, and up the hill.

Today the streets seemed strangely empty. Where were the crazy cars, backing out into oncoming traffic? Where were the shouting drivers? Oh look, there were actually lines painted on the streets, designating lanes! There appeared to be an intended order beneath the wild reality we’d experienced so far! Who knew?! Was this just Jerusalem compared to Bethlehem? No – we’d driven through the city before, on our way to Tantur. What was going on?

Sabbath street

Father Tim pointed out the salient sights as we silently whirled along. There were the malls, the pharmacies, the produce stores – all blank shuttered. There was the grocery store – locked up (so this wasn’t a hint to get us cooking immediately! Phew!!). The only people in sight were orthodox Jewish families, out for a stroll. Finally it dawned on me: this was Shabbat! It was Saturday, day of rest, and the people of Jerusalem lived it to the full.

Father Tim was looking for Ephratha Street – a name straight out of Isaiah’s Christmas prophecy. We found it, slumbering in the Sabbath sun, with honeysuckle and hibiscus bushes growing along iron railings, the white stone glowing warm and sleepy.  Houses were numbered as in Canada; even on one side, odd on the other. We were looking for #38, and found it with a full row of cars parked at an angle in front, as neat as a child's Matchbox car park.  No one was going anywhere! We waited while Father Tim dropped off his package.

“This is what Canada used to be like on Sundays,” I told the boys, looking out at the quiet street. “Everyone was together at home; no-one shopped, no-one was busy. It was a day of rest and renewal.” I could hardly imagine how fast that has changed.

As we waited we took in the scene. Sun shining on drowsy windows set in high, glowing white stone buildings – white limestone, Father Tim told us later, adding that part of the British Mandate, as they left Israel in 1947, was that all buildings in Jerusalem be built or at least faced with local stone. It has made for a surprisingly beautiful, tranquil scene wherever you look. No garish colours, no shoddy paintjobs, just rock that looks as though the sun warmly kisses it daily, which it does. Apparently a few settlers in 1967 moved in and built ugly buildings, but that was soon abolished again, and Jerusalem is a coherent, lovely work of glory!

The Promenade

Father Tim got back in the car and said we were in for a treat. We drove off and soon pulled up at a viewpoint, the Haas Promenade. Directly below us were landscaped gardens and a winding white path – as compelling as any yellow brick road! But then we lifted our eyes, and beheld what we had travelled the world to see: Jerusalem, the holy city, city set on a hill. Glorious in splendour, majestic in beauty, walled within and without, clothed all in white local stone, it displayed its wonder at a glance and beckoned us to explore its secrets in depth. We could hardly wait!

The centre of the Old City of Jerusalem

With the Mount of Olives a friendly neighbour, just a stone's throw away to the East of it, the Old City of Jerusalem captivated our gaze across hills and valleys. At this distance our view was dominated by the Dome of the Rock, which, as the sun came out, turned from dull brass to burning, burnished gold. What a sight!  To match it, the song of muezzins calling faithful Arab Muslims to prayer sounded from minarets dotting the landscape. Their calls are not synchronized, so layers and layers of sound echo across the valleys. I guess there is no standardized GMT in Israel! (Definitely the kind of place I'd like!)

After the prayer calls died out, Father Tim pointed out the Christian side: the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, a black-domed building, large but much less imposing and visible than the Dome of the Rock, not too far west of it. Further along the horizon was the tall Jewish Synagogue. Three religions crowded together, all believing this is holy ground, and all claiming a part of it.

Mount of Olives (place of prayer, betrayal and ascension)

Topping the Mount of Olives was the Church of the Ascension, built on the spot where Jesus stood just before He returned from earth to His Father. Behind it, on a hill in the far distance, was the huge white stone campus of the Hebrew University. In front of it was the Kidron Valley, and other valley settlements, poor neighbourhoods, with houses higgledy piggledy all over the place, and barrels on the roofs to collect rainwater. The grand and the humble mingled, as they did in Jesus’ day.

Then the bells of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre began to ring. Across the valley they rang, singing to us that Christ truly was there; had been there 2000 years ago, and was there today, on this Sabbath day of life renewal. We took it all in with full hearts, then slowly we got back into the car, and we drove away. We were all quiet. Somehow the order of the Sabbath and the order of the white stone fit together in harmony not to be broken.

We’ll be back on our own – it’s only a 5 shekel bus ride away from where we live! The first church we plan to visit is nearby. That trip should be interesting in a whole different way, as Sunday is a full-on business day, first day of the working week, and so the city will be teeming with people and cars and noise and hurly-burly.

But for this day, Shabbat, we saw the Beauty of the Lord in Sabbath rest, and we were restored.

Frasier came along for the ride!

Overlooking tranquil gardens