GAFCON Sabbath

Well, my day off was remarkable.  I wanted to get away for a day to have a Sabbath, to think and pray and write and listen, in the presence of the Lord.  I decided to go off to Ein Kerem, about 4 miles away from here (recommended by Linda Cohen and Marcia and Neil Lebhar).  It is the traditional place of John the Baptist's birth, a small, out of the way town where I thought I might spend the day.  Our guidebook also had good things to say.  So... at 10 AM I took a taxi (he said, 'how are you going to get back? There are no taxis in this town!) down to Ein Karem and started to explore. 

I went to 2 Franciscan Churches that were dedicated to 'The Visitation' of Mary and Elizabeth.  I prayed the Benedictus and the Magnificat there.  I have loved praying those prayers in Israel - at the Wall and elsewhere.  They have a fullness here I have never known.  The churches were so Marian as to make me uncomfortable, though, so I kept walking after a while.  After walking all over the small town, I stopped to get my first fresh squeezed orange juice, which I loved!!

I decided to find a trail mentioned in the guidebook at the entrance to Yad Vashem (the holocaust memorial, which was closed on the Sabbath), which would have been a 2 mile walk uphill along the road back to Jerusalem.  I started, but quickly got hot, had no extra water, and decided to turn back.  Hmm.  What to do? 

Get an espresso and a water bottle, that's what!  I slowed down and enjoyed the espresso, and thought some more.  I decided to get some lunch (it was about 12:45 by this time) in one of the 3 restaurants in town.  I went in (searched and scanned by an armed guard on the way in!) and went up to a third floor balcony and found a small table in the shade.  I ordered water and a pizza sized plate of warm, thin, fresh baked pita bread with eggplant, and four spreads.  It was an explosion of tastes and smells, one of the best meals I'd ever had, rivaling our best Ireland meals!  I so wish Bec was here to share it with me!!!

I read all my GAFCON notes through, making extra notes and references, thinking about what was important, and outlining thoughts while I slowly ate.  By 2 PM I was done (my Cate would have called me a 'camper' for staying that long) and ready to try and get to the forest trail at Yad Vashem.  I found a cab (yea!) who dropped me off up the hill at exactly the right place.  Below the access road to the memorial was a public park that looked like wandering trails through a descending pine forest. 

Down I went, quickly the only person around.  I walked about 2 miles all over the hill, stopping a couple of times to rest and look and take some pictures.  I found my way to the gate of the memorial, which was closed, but which was a bracing piece of art. 

Then I went up above the access road and wandered into what turned out to be Israel's National burial ground (like Arlington).  It was beautiful, and deserted.  There were acres of graves - Golda Meir, Rabin's, etc. 

Every Prime Minister or cabinet member or national hero is buried there, and it is beautifully laid out in a pine forest of old and young trees, flowering bushes, and winding pathways.  There was a large memorial to all people killed by terrorists, reminding me of our Vietnam Memorial.  There were also acres with no graves, many benches, and large trees and flowering bushes.  I found a peaceful place and sat down.  By this time it was almost 3 PM, and I stayed till 8 PM.  Eventually about 20 families came through the park, most with children, all dressed for Shabbat. 

I didn't have my Bible with me, but had my new Prayer Book (AMiA’s modernized 1662 version), and ended up reading slowly through the catechism and Athanasian Creed.  My little pine grove quickly became something of a sanctuary. 

I spent hours looking at the trees and bushes and cones and needles.  Thinking.  There was something of a concert going on.  The wind would rush through the trees every half minute or so.  There were several birds I got to know.  A child would yell out.  The pines would lift their branches in the winds as if in praise to the Lord.  The bright hot sun would play off the branches and shadows would dance along the needled floor of the park.  Birds would call - and the sounds and sights would be coming in sequence from all directions, as if being called forth by the unseen Conductor of the Sabbath Concert.  Two older men on a bench were talking about their open Torah.  An empty wheelchair spoke of hope and love, as an elderly couple walked slowly by.  An Israeli flag stood proud in the wind, almost hidden by pines.  I could hear the older man turn the pages of his Torah.  The winds rushed again.

The old pines, tortured by generations of heat and sun and wind are yet green all over the outside, as if dressed in a jacket of life.  Close to the trunk of the trees large branches were broken and hanging and long dead - but so full of cones, little fat Christmas tree shaped cones, that you could hardly see through them.  The cones on the dead branches seemed to mirror the graves throughout the park – sleepers all, seeds all, waiting a higher call to come forth in life.  Sabbath all around.

By 6 PM the sun began to relent.  Families began to come out of the shade and walk around,  Squirrels that had been quiet all afternoon began to chatter.  Doves cooed, and a crow cawed.  The earth seemed sacred and at peace.  You could almost hear his voice, the Lord of the Sabbath, 'Come to me, you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'

By 7 PM I had been there almost 5 hours.  This day I had no meetings, no deadlines, no appointments, no homework, no responsibilities.  I started out in the morning not knowing where I was going, nor knowing what I would find.  But at every turn the day opened before me, unfolding one delight after another until the pines and the winds and the children began to speak more and more deeply.  I found myself attentive and alert and listening keenly all through it - and at rest before the Lord.  Every hour I was almost ready to rise and leave, and He whispered, ‘Wait with me another hour.  There is more.’  Everything whispered to me of Him.  Everything.

I decided to read Evening Prayer, slowly, in my little pine chapel.  By now, people had left, and I was alone again in the park, almost.  In the middle of the general intercession, "We commend to your fatherly goodness all who are in any way afflicted or distressed...",  I began to weep.  For my family.  For my parish.  For our Communion.  For myself.  I just started to weep before the Lord.  For the kind of Dad and friend and pastor I have not been.  For wanting to be someone important.  For taking so many gifts from the Lord of all gifts - and looking upon them lightly.  I was all at once so very, very sorry, weeping before the Lord, begging him for us all, broken by mercy.  I read through the Great Litany, slowly.

It was time to get home; darkness was descending.  I walked about 2.5 miles home, arriving about 8:30 in the dark.  This day was long, long overdue. 

Comments

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[Marcia Brackin]

I was so moved by your experience in the pines and by your transparency in sharing it with us. May God continue to heap blessing upon blessing upon you. Your words have been a comfort and a challenge and an inspiration. Thank you.