Hebrew is bittersweet

I'm sitting here studying for my Hebrew final which I'm taking tomorrow, and I've been flooded with memories from Israel. I remember little things, mnemonic devices I used for this word or that one, or where I studied said word.

Some words, I fight back tears because ... well, you'll see.

מדבר
mid-BAR, the word for wilderness. Van Pelt and Practico, the authors of the Hebrew vocabulary book we used, also added desert to this definition. Nope. It's not the desert. Promise. I've BEEN there. I've walked in the wilderness. Ani halekh bamidbar.

 עץ
Etz. Tree. Etz chayim. Tree of life. 

 מים , עין
MA-yim, ein. (going from right to left). Water, spring. Ein also means eye. Ein Gedi is more than just a place. It's... I guess to you it would be like an oasis. But it's not. An oasis is what Jericho is, a place where a city can develop in the midst of hamidbar (the wilderness). It's ein. A spring, a lifespring. Oh, I can't describe it!

 שמש ,לילה
SHEH-mesh, LAI-la. Sun, night. In the evenings I would say "Laila tov" (good night) to my friends as I was leaving for bed, or signing off online. (Though "Erev tov" is "Good evening")

עבן
EV-en. Stone. I'm pretty sure that this word has the connotation of a little stone, like something you would throw. I put a picture of this wall up because most of the ones you see are little stones that you could potentially throw if you could pry them lose from the wall.

חסד
KHES-ed. Love. Unfailing love. Loyalty. Loving-kindness. These ladies were some of my best friends in Israel, and I am so incredibly blessed that two of the three of them are Messiah-ians, and will be there when we return to Messiah's campus in five weeks. This word is the Hebrew version of agape, the Greek word meaning the same thing. So, naturally, now I think of khesed when thinking about the people I love there.

So, you see, some of these things have become real to me. And I miss them tremendously. I used to study Hebrew vocab lying in my hammock in my room, pushing against the wall with my foot. I once sat near the window sill, making my last batch of notecards as I chatted with a friend on Skype. I remember discussing mnemonic devices in the dining hall, in the classroom.

I think that's going to be hard when I get back. I'm used to my instructors using Hebrew words to describe things, simply because English doesn't cut it. Midbar communicates wilderness more effectively than the English word, and ein is so much more than just a spring. I learned the word "bama" which means high place, because of my teacher using it in class (which, by the way, bama means more to me than a high place). I already miss it so...

Do you want a coupon?

I know I'm home now, but every so often I'll have a post either talking about some experience I had in Israel that I thought about and never talked about on here, or adjusting to life back in the States.


Today I had an adjustment moment. Or, as I wrote on Facebook, I felt like a foreigner.

I was standing at the counter at McDonald's, ordering a small order of two things off the dollar menu - what I usually do when I need to sit down for a while and work on something. I don't just want to waltz in, buy nothing, and use the internet. Anyway, so my total came to $2.10. I reached for my wallet, and... went for the change section first, digging around for a dime around my leftover shekels.

The shekel coins:
1, 5
10
2, .5

As I was digging, the lady standing next to me asked if I wanted a coupon, and then proceeded to dig around her purse for a huge booklet of coupons, saying that she would never use them all, et cetera. When I gave up looking for a dime, I told the lady gently that I had just ordered off the dollar menu and there probably weren't any coupons for that. She apologized and said she was just trying to be nice. (I thanked her for her kindness in any case - very sweet to offer a coupon!)

Having abandoned my search for the dime that would allow me to pay in exact change, I pulled out three one-dollar bills and put them on the counter to pay. The woman behind the register took the money, placed two of the bills in the register, and handed one back to me. Huh? 90 cents of change does not equal one dollar! But, I swallowed my pride, thanked the woman, and took my change.

Two scoops of ice cream at one vendor in Jerusalem is
one of these coins, or the equivalent of 2.50 in US dollars

As I walked away with my McDouble and sweet tea, I wondered what it was that made both ladies treat me as if I didn't have much money. Did I really look like a poor college student? I realize, of course, that I should have taken out the two dollars first and THEN looked for the dime, but it was... well, it was kinda habit to reach for the change first. See, Israeli fast food only costs something like 10-20 shekels, which can be paid in coins of 10, 5, 2, and 1. My second-to-last night in Jerusalem, a bunch of us went out for ice cream, and I handed the man a 10-shekel coin with which to pay.

I'm just glad I didn't hand the woman a 10-shekel coin... THAT would have DEFINITELY labeled me as a foreigner.

Changes

I apologize, it has been a month since I last posted, and I have already been home for a week. Yeah, I'm really sorry about not being more faithful in posting. I am home, but I think that this journey is still going on. My mindset has changed. Israel changed me. Israel is changing me. As in still, continually.

My first night home, I realized how much I had changed.

We sat down at the table, eating pie leftovers, for it was Thanksgiving, while I told stories. I tried to emphasize how much I loved the land of Israel, and how perfectly it fit the idea of the promised land. But my love for the land fell on deaf ears. They didn't "get" it. I was trying to explain it, and my explanations were not enough.

I love the land. I love every bit of dust and stone that I stepped on. I love Cenomanian limestone the best - it's so beautiful and strong. So firm. I love Senonian chalk that makes up the Judean Wilderness. It gets over everything, and you can't grow stuff well in it, but I miss it. And Eocene chalk - that gets over everything, worse than Senonian to some extents. And basalt hurts your feet and makes your feet turn black, but it's so strong and lightweight.

I love the dry season which shifts slowly into rainy. I love how excited I got when it did rain for those brief moments maybe once every two or three weeks, for maybe five minutes. I love the yellow grass and the gorgeous sunsets streaming through the grass. I love the cactus which line the roads sometimes. I love those little prickly plants which kinda hurt when walking through them in Chacos.

I love the quiet springs, and the noisy springs too. Cisterns, eh, not so fond of 'cause I've been in a pretty gross one before, but the concept of saving water is beautiful. Springs are my favorite though. The water is so clear and fresh and delicious.

But even where there isn't water, I love. I love the olive trees on the side of the road. I love walking under the grapevines. I love needing a chair to pluck a ripe pomegranate from the trees. And I loved those pomegranates. So ripe and delicious.

I miss the food there. I was always picking out mushrooms out of one dish or another, but I miss the funky pizza we had. I miss the rich flavors, and I miss the overwhelming of the senses at the Shuk.

The land changed me. Is changing me. And I was reminded of this just a little bit earlier, when I was doing some research for a paper on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and came across a manuscript of an interview. The man being interviewed had just been to Israel, and I found myself smiling at the things he spoke about seeing. And I still had to laugh a bit, for even though he had the experience of being in Israel, and staying in Bethlehem, I knew something from living there for three months, that he did not after being there for far less time. Not to mention that I have been around other people who have lived in Israel for YEARS and who imparted their knowledge on me and the other students.

For sure, a native Israeli will know FAR more than I do, and could ever hope to. Even a lady I know who lived there four years, she belongs to the land more than I do.

Still, not many people have lived in Israel for three months. And even fewer lived with me those three months.

I miss them. I left a bit of my heart with them. But in the same way, I think I have a bit of theirs as well.

People here don't understand. Some of them want to, and can't, and others simply cannot. Some are closed off to understanding. It's a risk when you go abroad. People here are comfortable. They aren't comfortable having their world shaken up, but that's exactly what you have gone through. Your world is different now. You view the world in a different way. And you cannot force people to understand it.

I'm still being changed by Israel. That's just a fact about it. The land changes you. And there's nothing you can do to avoid it, even if you wanted to.

And all the world will see

Our whole time in Galilee, we focused a lot on the general theme of the international nature of Yeshua’s mission. In Nazareth, we briefly covered the start of Yeshua’s ministry.

Sunset from Nazareth Ridge

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed, to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord,” Yeshua read. And everyone in the synagogue that day smiled, because they had been waiting for this day.

Imagine their surprise and horror when Yeshua began to talk about the times the Lord had done something for the Gentiles. They were not the ones oppressed! The Jews were oppressed under the thumb of Rome!

Sea of Galilee from a mountaintop

But slowly, Yeshua introduced the idea that redemption was not only for them. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted,” the psalmist writes. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, because the brokenhearted are those who do not know him. The captives are those still caught in the chains of not knowing the Lord. But at the beginning of Yeshua’s ministry, he was trying to tell Israel that they were called to minister to the nations – and they didn’t want to hear it!

Caught up in their selfish understanding of the Lord’s promise, they held the covenant to themselves. They did not share it, nor did they want to.

Yeah, we went on a boat on the Sea of Galilee ^_^

Looking down from the top of the Cliffs of Arbel over Galilee

Yeshua moved to Capernaum, smack dab in the middle of the international trade route. And he chose disciples from the area around the Sea of Galilee. Many were fisherman. The Sea of Galilee was a great equalizer between the three political districts surrounding it. One was primarily Jewish, one was primarily Gentile, and one was mixed. But while fishing, everyone is the same. They had to talk and trade with Gentiles – they had to do this in order to survive on some accounts.

The disciples probably already had an idea of an international concept of taking the message to the nations. The Great Commission, given on top of a mountain likely overlooking the international road confirmed this.

“Go and make disciples of ALL nations,” Yeshua told his disciples. All nations. The good news wasn’t just for the Jews.

Another look down from the top of the Cliffs

This goes back to the concept of shalom. Shalom is wholeness, it is life as it should be. It’s not this poor concept we call “peace.” The people had peace in this time under Roman rule – the Pax Romana. But shalom is not just about peace. It is about a balance between the peoples. It is wholeness in every heart. It is wholeness in every community across the world. Where there is wholeness, then there is peace. But wholeness comes first. And with wholeness is life as it should be – every people praising the name of the Lord for his great mercies, that he would want the whole world to be his.

“He is jealous for me,” a song goes. For me? Yes, the Lord is jealous for me. But even more importantly, he is jealous for the whole world.

Sea of Galilee from Capernaum

“And all the world will see Yeshua, and all the world will see salvation, and all the world will see the He is King,” another song says. This is the gospel. This is the good news.

Yeshua's Betrothal

One of the major themes we have talked about this semester is the Hebrew concept of shalom or wholeness, “life as it should be.” There are several different areas of life as it should be, and one of those is of the family.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled" - Sunset over Jerusalem

There are so many beautiful images in the Bible, especially images that Yeshua incurs when he speaks with his disciples. Sometimes it is so tender, like in John 14. “Do not let your hearts be troubled… In my Father’s house, there are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also.”

The private sleeping area of the insula, complete with bed

For some reason, “many rooms” got translated as “mansions” at some point. It’s a rather American concept, and frankly, I don’t like it. I don’t like the feel of large houses. Besides loving having my own space (I am an introvert to an extent), I don’t like the feeling of empty rooms.

Life as it should be just got an Israeli facelift, thanks to Biblical life.

The family lived in a type of home called an insula. It was based on the idea of the original 4-room house, with the same types of space – public space, storage, work, and private sleeping space. The difference was that the house got added onto every time one of the children married.

Nowadays engaged couples have rings to show that they are
taken, but I think in Biblical days, the whole village
just knew that a woman was taken because everyone knew
everyone.

Betrothal in those days was different than engagement now. The man would pay the bride’s father the bride price, and there would be a ceremony that would bind the man and woman in betrothal. Then the man would go home and start adding a room onto the insula for him and his bride. While the man worked on the addition, the bride would work on making things for the home. However, the person who was ultimately in charge of deciding when the man could bring his wife home was the man’s father. The dad would tell his son when the room was finished, and then they would go and bring the bride back with much rejoicing.

Glorious, beautiful, expectant betrothal

We are in betrothal to Yeshua. Glorious, beautiful, expectant betrothal. We don’t know when Yeshua is going to come back to bring us to his home in glory – only the Father knows. In the meantime, the Son is preparing a place for us, anxious to bring us back as His bride. And we, as the bride of the Son, we are to be preparing for our time with him. We are not to be sitting around idly; we are to be preparing for him. And then when the Father approves of the room, our groom will come and take us there in glorious celebration, with all creation celebrating with us (hey, weddings are no fun without people to share in the joy of the union with the couple).

The work space in the courtyard - the woman kept busy prior
to and after the completion of marriage

The other thing that I think goes with this is all the building imagery Yeshua uses. He was a tekton, which is the equivalence of a master builder or perhaps an engineer. (He wasn’t just a carpenter – more stone than wood in Israel anyway). In any case, he knew building. So he talks a lot about building his church. Now, the New Testament is in Greek, but I like to take Hebrew words to compare the various definitions and see how they sound when interchanged. The word in Hebrew for building also denotes a meaning towards rebuilding or establishing a family. In building the church, he may have also been talking about establishing his family with the church.

Families… beautiful imagery. And even moreso betrothal.

The Sound of Thinnest Silence

View of Jezreel Valley from Mount Carmel

 I have always loved the story of Eliyahu facing the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel. Amending that statement: I love all of the stories of Eliyahu, though I don’t read them often enough. But Eliyahu facing the prophets is a famous one, one that even my younger brothers are familiar with.

Taken at Dan, where the headwaters of the Jordan River are

Perhaps my favorite part was when Eliyahu prayed a simple prayer for the Lord to show Himself to be Lord of all, and have Him respond with fire. But now I have some new favorites to the story. I really love how Eliyahu had the people be involved in this healing of them and of the land – he asked them to fill jars of water in the midst of a three-year drought, and tote them up the mountain to pour over the burnt offering. What faith he required of them! And yet, it was necessary. A doctor is part of the healing process, to be sure, but the sick person must admit that they are sick, and step forward in faith that they will be healed, no matter what kinds of things they may have to do to be well. In the same way did the people have to step forward in faith in order to be healed.

And even before that, they had no idea that they were sick! When Eliyahu told the people to follow either Baal or Adonai, the people did not answer. They didn’t even know who they were supposed to worship! How horrible would it be to be so far gone to not even know which god was true! And yet, Eliyahu prayed to the Lord, and He brought the fire, and the people fell on their knees and believed.

Yet, after this amazing act of power, Eliyahu surely felt confused because Adonai revealed himself in the same way that Baal would have. He ran back to the place where he was last sure of it all, and threw himself before the Lord. “I am zealous for you, my Lord!” he cried, “but I am the only one left, and my enemies pursue me!”

Two men praying at the top of the Cliffs of Arbel

Then the Lord brought His presence near to Eliyahu not in the mighty fire nor in the wind, nor in the earthquake, but “in the sound of thinnest silence.” He can do great things to be sure, but he is not Baal. He is not in the fire nor the wind nor the earthquake. He is present in the beauty of still, sweet silence.

“Be still and know that He is Adonai,” the Psalmist writes. Be still. Be silent, and be still.

Several days after talking about the Lord being present in “the sound of thinnest silence,” I sat back at the top of the Cliffs of Arbel and waited for everyone to pass through the cliffs in front of me so that I could stop and enjoy the silence. And the silence was breathtakingly amazing. I had to be absolutely still in order to hear the silence, but the silence was glorious. I wish I had sat there longer, just drinking in the silence, because I don’t feel like I could have enough of it.

The Cliffs of Arbel, from where I sat to enjoy the silence

In a world of constant noise, music, and voices, pure silence is hard to find. This is difficult in the physical sense, which is what made that moment on the top of the Cliffs of Arbel so glorious, but also in the spiritual sense. Few people know how to quiet their souls to listen to the Lord speak, but that is when we can hear Him best – when we listen for the sound of thinnest silence.

Things I love and things I miss

So... I did intend to write more often than this. Two and a half weeks is horrible. But, I have reasons for being quiet. Midterms. Yup. I've had once a week for the past three-four weeks. I have four classes. The fourth midterm is tomorrow. So instead of studying for it or Hebrew, I'm procrastinating. <_< But, it's only... oops. It's almost 9pm. So I'll try to make this quick, and go back to studying for Rabbinical Thought and Hebrew.

I've been here for almost 9 weeks now, and there are about 6 weeks to go before I'm home. But 6 weeks does not seem like that long. This weekend, I have a field study in Galilee from Saturday to Tuesday. Next weekend I have off. The weekend after that I have a field study in Jordan from Thursday to Sunday. Weekend after that is off. The week after that is midterms, and then I have a week to finish enjoying Israel before I go home.

Aaaahhh!

But it is late October, and I realize that I miss things from home. Things like...

• My family
• My friends
• Pumpkin
• Chocolate
• The crispness of fall
• Changing leaves
• In general, fall-type stuff

There are other things to be sure, but right now I'm really missing the pumpkin. I cannot wait to get home and eat pumpkin pie, and I really want pumpkin cookies right now. My mouth waters at the prospect...

But, there are things I really love here. Things like...

• The new friends here, the friendships that I pray will last a lifetime after three short months of adventures
• Adventures
• Schwarma
• The beautiful Jerusalem skyline
• The warm days and cool evenings
• Pita
• Everyone here would groan at this, but I love bus lunches. It's usually pita with either tuna (with olives), egg salad (with olives) or turkey and cheese. I love them all. And chocolate spread on pita is DELICIOUS.
• Being able to keep my window open all the time
• Being able to walk down the hallway to be on the roof, to look over the beautiful Jerusalem skyline

 One of the things that I LOVE to do at night is to go and sit on the roof, look over the city, and talk with God. During the day, I go out to the garden, but I love sitting on the roof and looking out over everything.

It's getting close to nine, so I'm going to wrap up, get a snack, and then get to work!

Laila tov!
-Sarah