I looked for my new found friend Annalisa to ask for a favor. Not seeing her, I waved to a Franciscan sitting on the porch of their convent smoking a cigar. He waved back, but did not bite on my subtle invitation to ask me if I needed or wanted something. I gave up. As I turned to walk away, a man standing right there asked me if I was an Abuna, that is, a priest. I was certain that it was a “guide” who wanted me to buy some service or another of his. I did not want to run into him. As it turns out, he was the gardener of the property, and he was asking if I needed something. (That is a twist on one of the Easter stories, isn’t it? He really was the gardener.) The long and short of it is that he told me that he would take care of the favor that I was asking. He took me to the place on the edge of their property that overlooks a waterfall into the Sea of Galilee. It was the source of the water of the waterfall. (See a previous post.) He suggested that I take a photo. I did. And then I asked him if he would make movie for me. Well, it took fourteen times for him to get the hang of the use of the iPad to take a video. His big, rough fingers did not know how to “tap” the red icon. He kept pressing it like he was planting an olive tree into the screen. Just when both he and I were ready to call it a nice but unsuccessful try, he got it. And he got it well. He refused to quit. Over the fourteen times I tried to convinced him not to speak during the movie. “Quiet on the set” is not easy to translate in Arabic, as is everything for me, by the way. He couldn’t resist saying, “Yalla,” at the beginning of this video. “Yalla” means, “Go.” I think he was getting into it. It was his version of, “Cameras. Action!” Thanks, Abu George. You gave me a real souvenir to take home with me.
keeping my safe distance
18 JunThere is a still-producing spring on the Sea of Galilee that continues to pour fresh water into the lake. It is easy to think of this location as the place where Andrew and Peter were washing their nets, when Jesus asked them to join him. The lake is, thankfully, very high this year because of the good winter of lots of rain and the still melting snows of Mounter Hermon in the north. The higher water covering most of the walkable section of the shore, my still slightly bum knee, the rocks and uncertain surface, and not having on the right shoes all factored into to my decision not to draw too close to the place of the call. Seems like I can always come up with many good reasons for keeping my distance!
that ain’t no mango
18 Jun
Actually, it is. It was not until I got away from home and into college that I found out what a real mango was. What we called a mango in my house, much of the rest of the world, I found, called a green pepper. That’s why I couldn’t figure out why anyone would have a mango for dessert. Anyway, this is a real mango, and yes, they do grow on trees around these parts.
some “caught” fish for breakfast
18 JunHave you? No. Cast your net, and you will. Have breakfast. Do you love me?
why not?
18 Jun
At the Church of Peter Primacy – “Do you love me? Tend/feed my lambs/sheep” – by chance I met Annalisa, as she sat on the porch at the convent (where the two Franciscans on site live). She is an Italian archeologist working at the ruins of Magdala (of Mary of Magdala fame), but at this moment was studying some materials for her PhD pursuit. She offered me the hospitality of a chair to sit by the edge of the lake. I asked her how she liked her new Pope. She smiled a great big smile, “I love him. He loves to be with the people. He is so simple.” Then she asked, “It seems that it would be possible to meet him, do you think?” I suggested that she write him and ask him to visit her and the Friars at Peter Primacy. He should like the spot anyway. Who knows, he may skip Jerusalem and come right to see her. I did not tell her, but I thought of the scroll-invitation that we will be sending to Pope Francis, asking him to visit us in Milford, at least in his thoughts and prayers.
time to clean my glasses
18 Jun
I’ve seen it often at home. It must be one of those “the world over” things: when things get too emotional and a tear rolls down, a father cleans his glasses. A great technique to distract yourself and to remove yourself from the moment for a moment so that you do not totally lose it and begin to cry. It was at Ranim’s engagement party last evening. This photo will not be the best of all those taken at the engagement, but it captures something of what many of the others will miss: the love and emotion of a father as his daughter becomes formally engaged. There is suddenly another man in your little girl’s life, and she is no longer your little girl, although she will always be your little girl. Sometimes the only thing that a father can do and the best that he can do with the moment is to clean his glasses.
from now on
18 Jun
Miraculous Catch of Fish
When he had finished speaking, Jesus said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”
Simon answered, “Master, if you say so, I will let down the nets.”
Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”
slow and measured, with style and class
18 Jun
Mass with the German Benedictines at their outdoor altar at their Church of the Multiplication of the Loaves and Fish was, week, so German and so Benedictine. Exactly at 9:00 a.m., exactly, exactly, the twos servers and the priest presider appeared at the back of the people gathered, and we all stood. Mass was all in German. Arabic last week, German this week, and next week, back home, chances are good that it will be English. Same Mass, same cadence of of the spoken word, just different languages. Even though outside the monastery church, summers it is too hot in the church itself, everything was elegant and Mass-worthy, crisp and ironed, classy and honorable, that is,so Benedictine and monkish. One thing I noticed about the presider. The chasuable that he wore, the way he used his arms and hands, the tone of his voice, his inflection and the deliberate pace of his speech, drew no attention to himself and sort of deflected everything toward God through the ritual of the Mass. That was so Catholic and was so right.
With Open Doors 