The Final Daze

The Monday after Petra was to be a routine drive back to the King Hussein Bridge to drop of the rental car and return to Palestine. Like much of the rest of this excursion, we found that these plans were not meant to be. The adventure on Monday came again in the form of car problems. We decided to take the mountain road down to the Dead Sea and follow the highway along the Dead Sea back up to the Border crossing. The mountain road was very steep and very deserted. Both would play a role in a rather precarious position in which we would find ourselves very quickly. The clutch on the manual transmission minivan burned out when we were about half way between one civilization and the next. We were stranded on a very hot desert road and it had been more than a half hour since we had seen another car. In an unfortunate stroke of poor planning, we also had less than two bottles of water between the three of us.

One car passed rather quickly after our breakdown but did not stop. I opened the hood of the car in the universal signal that we were having trouble and Frs. Carl and Steve wandered down around the next curve to see what was beyond. Just as they disappeared around the curve, a truck with three men in it passed and stopped to see if they could help. I was able to communicate with them that the problem was with the clutch. As they were examining the problem, a 2nd truck with Frs. Carl and Steve and another man drove up. We consulted (as much as we could) and determined that the car could be driven in a single gear – the engine had to be turned off and the gear chosen and then the engine started. So we decided that the best thing to do would be to drive the car back up the hill in 2nd gear and the men who were headed in that direction would follow us and show us to a mechanic. That plan worked liked a charm. About 45 minutes later, we are at a shop and the mechanic had determined that the problem was not something that could be repaired in his town and that the car would need to go to a shop in Amman. At that point, one of the young men who had accompanied us to the shop sort of took charge. He asked me for the rental contract and called the company in Amman to explain, in Arabic, what our situation was. There were a number of options floated, but ultimately, it was decided that we would leave the car at that garage, take a taxi the remaining way to Amman, and the rental car company would take us to the border. Within minutes, a taxi was there and all our gear was transferred and we were on our way. Once again, we had been the subject of remarkable hospitality. The young men who aided us were certainly no more than 25. But they were young men who put the best foot of their country and culture forward. When we offered to pay them for their troubles, they were offended. It had simply been their pleasure to help and they made it clear that it was what was required of good hospitality. The rest of the afternoon in Jordan, although an hour behind schedule, was uneventful.

It was funny that when we got to the King Hussein Bridge Border Station and had cleared Jordanian Customs and were told to report to the bus that would take us across the bridge, we arrived to find the bus’ engine compartment open and the driver and another man working on replacing some parts. We laughed at our trip filled with mechanical problems.

Once on the Israeli side of the border, all the frustration we had experienced with car trouble came rushing back as we negotiated the car-wreck that is Israeli border control. It took nearly three hours to get back into Israel – and that was on a day when there were not that many people at the border crossing. It started out okay – we were shuttled in the direction of lines for non-Arabs that were much shorter. But eventually, we were in the same lines as the Arabs and there was not attempt to make it any easier for anybody.
I understand that it is easier to cross into Israel at the border stations to the south or the north where you are actually simply crossing into Israel out of either Jordan or Egypt. The reason the Allenby Bridge is more difficult is because you are actually not simply crossing into Israel, you are crossing into Israeli Occupied Palestine - I am not sure that the unwelcoming attitude that I encountered there was really directed at me, I simply got mixed up in the crossfire (so to speak). Like so much else I have encountered in Palestine, it seems the Israelis have gone out of their way to make things as unpleasant as possible for Palestinians who have the right to pass back and forth across the border to visit family or to travel further abroad. Of course this is all done for the sake of security, but anyone with a little bit of common sense could make the process a lot more efficient. (e.g., my passport was checked by four different officials between the time I got off the bus on the Israeli side and the time I was able to actually leave the border check station. Because ten or twelve lines were reduced to a single line this process took more than 2 hours and two of the four people who checked my passport did nothing but hold me up. They did not stamp my passport and they asked me the same questions that I had already been asked by two previous people.) I am more convinced than ever that the ridiculousness I experienced at the border is just one more example of how Israel tried to make things difficult and uncomfortable for the Palestinians.

Back in Jerusalem, we made our plans for our final days. Here is the plan – we would have our last class on Tuesday. Then on Wednesday, we would rent a car and head up to Nablus to see Jacob’s Well and Mt. Gerazim. Then we would have a final dinner out in Jerusalem and take Fr. Gregory to the Airport for his late night flight to the US. We would keep the car overnight, then use it to go up to Mt. Scopus to take sunrise pictures and to go to the Mosque of the Ascension before turning it in. We then decided to find out if it would be possible to rent a car in Jerusalem on Wednesday and turn it in at Ben Gurion Airport on Thursday night. The cost of the car rental for a day would be about the same as the cost of the taxi to the airport.

Out plans went well right up to the car rental. We had tried to go to Nablus and Mt. Gerazim earlier in the trip but had approached it from the north on our way home from Meggido. The lines on the map all connected where we were with the thriving town of Nablus, but security walls and border crossings are not marked on Israeli maps. After trying numerous approaches and being turned away at border crossings, we had simply given up. We knew however that the way was opened from Jerusalem to Nablus and made our plans to go that way. I was particularly excited about visiting Jacob’s Well – it is one of those Biblical places whose location we are absolutely sure and it has always excited my imagination a little. The problem with the car rental was our plan to pick it up in Jerusalem and drop it off at the airport – a plan we had come to like very much. If, however, you are going to do that, you have to rent from an international company like Hertz, Avis, or Budget. No problem. Except when I went to pick the car up I found out that there was a problem. The larger car companies consider the Palestinian Territories another country and their insurance will not cover your travel within them. We had canceled our reservation with the Palestinian rental car company and there was no turning back at this point.

Foiled again by the reality of a partitioned West Bank. At that moment, I was so happy to be going home and not having to deal with this any more. There is no consistency or sense to the idea that Palestine is a “separate country.” The problem is that for more than 60 years nobody, Arab or Israeli, has taken the responsibility for the hard work of creating that “separate country.” Into that vacuum step all kinds of crazy non-solutions. When it suits Israel, Palestine is a “separate country.” Otherwise, “This is our God-giving country.” I have had to show my passport more in the last seven weeks than in the rest of my life combined. And at any moment, my fate and ability to travel was at the whim of a loaded-gun wielding teenage IDF member. Generally that did not cause me any problem; it was simply inconvenient. But it was a constant, in-your-face reminder of the reality I was living in. I remember the bus ride returning from my second visit to Bethlehem – everybody had to get off the bus and show their passport at the border check-point. No problem for me – but we were all held up as they did some sort of deeper check on the credentials of two Palestinian teenagers. I do not begrudge Israel its security, and God knows that there are Jews who wished that all Palestinians were dead and there are Palestinians that wished that all Jews were dead. As I have said before, there is blood on everybody’s hands. And this was yet another reminder that there seems to be no will, nationally or internationally to resolve the differences that keeps this entire country ghetto-ized.

Glad I got that off my chest. Ok – we had to rework our plans. That was okay, there were a number of sites on the south and West side of Jerusalem that we wanted to see. We would simply go to them instead of Nablus and Mt. Gerazim. We headed south to the village of Abu Ghosh at which there is a beautiful Olivetan Monastery with a Crusader-era Church. It is well preserved and stands on ground that has been important in antiquity, the Byzantine-era, the Middle Ages, the Muslim era, and even in the modern era. Abu Ghosh is down the hill from Qiryat Yearim, the village which marks the border between the tribal lands of Benjamin and Judah.

Qiryat Yearim is distinguished as the one time resting place of the Ark of the Covenant. The Ark was in the “fields of Yearim” between its being returned to Israel by the Philistines (1 Sam 6 – great story) and King David’s bringing it to his new Capital in Jerusalem (2 Sam 6). Today, the hill at Qiryat Yearim is surmounted by a pretty little 20th Century church of Notre Dame de l’Arch d’Alliance (Our Lady of the Ark of the Covenant), which is crowned by a massive mother and child statue. In that sculpture, Mary, the Ark of the New Covenant” stands on the old Ark of the Covenant.



One of Abu-Ghosh’s distinctions is that during medieval times, it was remembered as the Biblical town of Emmaus because of some faulty calculations on somebody’s part. When we left there, we headed to the Trappist Monastery of Latrun, a site with a more ancient claim to the be Emmaus. We know fro certain that this site actually bore the name of Emmaus – it is first mentioned as the site of Judas Maccabeus’ camp in 1 Macc. 3. It is recorded as Emmaus in many early Christian writings. The name was changed to Nicopolis by the Roman Empire, but Christians continued to identify it as the town mentioned in Luke 24. (In fact most scholars reject this claim and there are at least two other sites that claim to be Emmaus today). There we visited the Trappists and prayed in their beautiful church. There are also ruins of both Byzantine and Crusader Churches that recall the historic identity with Emmaus.



From Latrun, we headed further west to the town of Modi’in to see the graves of the Maccabees. This site is a disgrace. IT is well marked, but there has been no attempt on the part of the modern State of Israel to recognize the Maccabees as the great Jewish heroes that they are. When I think of the millions of dollars spent to turn Masada into a symbol of modern Jewish nationalism, I wonder how come a small portion of that could not be spent to clean up the site of the Maccabee’s resting place. It should be a great place of pilgrimage. (and that’s my 2 cents worth…) There is a modern IDF memorial at this site which also pays homage to the Maccabean graves by the inclusion of pyramidal structures that recall the eight pyramids that Josephus tells us marked the graves of the Maccabean heroes in antiquity. I was glad to see this little nod at least.

From Modi’in, we headed back toward Jerusalem and made a stop at Rama at the tomb of the Prophet Samuel. This is another one of those mixed, Jewish, Muslim sites that is hard to comprehend. No one doubts that this is the actual resting place of the prophet. There are ruins of antique and medieval monuments on top of which a modern mosque has been constructed. The mosque is still active, but the place is crawling with ultra-orthodox Jews, who have established a synagogue in one part of the mosque. OF course this demands that there are soldiers there around the clock enforcing the right of the Jews to be there. It was an odd juxtaposition to see no one but Jews there, but to hear the Muslim call to midday prayer proclaimed from the minaret. The militarization of a sacred site – just one more reminder of the schizophrenia of this place… It was hard to be inspired here.

After lunch, we went to the quaint little village of Ein Kerem, in Jerusalem’s southwestern suburbs. At first glance, Ein Kerem seems like a little yuppie village (like Sausalito, or LaJolla, or Scottsdale) but it is a place full of Christian history. It is the place in the “Judean hill country” (and it is hilly) to which Mary hurried after the Annunciation. Here she went into the house of Zechariah and Elizabeth (Luke 1:39-56). Here we visited the beautiful little Church of the Visitation. On the plaza in front of that Church, there are plaques bearing the words of the Magnificat in many languages. After a short time of prayer in that Church, we walked back across the village to the Church of St. John the Baptist in which is a grotto in which John is said to have been born. Matching its sister Church, in the court outside St. John’s there are plaques bearing the words of the Bendictus in many languages.

After our time in Ein Kerem, the afternoon dictated that we go back to St. Stephens so that Fr. Gregory could make his final preparations to leave. We met for our departure at 6:30 and headed to the same restaurant in which we had celebrated Fr. Carl’s birthday on our first night in Jerusalem. We enjoyed a great meal and reflected together on the great experience we had enjoyed I these weeks. We were so grateful to Fr. Gregory for arranging this program and for inviting us to partake. He has been a marvelous host, teacher, and guide through history and Scripture. We took him to the airport and said our goodbyes and thank-yous for a wonderful experience.

On Thursday morning, our last in Jerusalem, Frs. Steve, Carl, and I left St. Stephens at 5 am and drove up to the Campus of Hebrew U on top of Mt. Scopus to watch the sun rise over the Jordan Valley. It was a cold, windy, cloudy morning, so we were not sure what we would be able to see. The pictures speak for themselves. We then made our way around the Mt. of Olives to catch the sun coming up over that site. Not quite as spectacular, but beautiful nonetheless. How often do you get to catch two sun-rises in one day?

After a quick breakfast in Jerusalem, we headed up the Mt. of Olives to see two sites that we had missed because of mid-day closures on previous trips – 1st we went to the Church of Dominus Flevit, which commemorates the Lord’s weeping over the unbelieving Jerusalem in Luke 19:41-42. We had not been able to get into the Church on a previous visit and wanted to see the view of the Old City through the Eucharistic-themed window behind the main altar.

From there, we headed to the top of the Mt. of Olives to the Chapel of the Lord’s Ascension. The Chapel is (since the end of the 12th Century) actually a Mosque. It is a small building contained with what remains of an octagonal Crusader-era Church building. Within the small building is a stone from which Jesus is said to have ascended. (Muslims believe in the ascension of Jesus and hold this as a sacred site.) Christian pilgrims are welcome and each year the Church is allowed to celebrate a Mass for the Feast Day on Ascension Thursday at this site. We had intentionally avoided this site on our Mt. of Olives retreat day because we were more focused on Jesus’ triumphal entry that day. Besides, there is something quite wonderful that the last site we saw in Jerusalem was Jesus’ last site in Jerusalem.

We spent the rest of the day packing and each of us made one last rip into the Old City. Each of us wanted one last time at the Holy Sepulcher. In the evening met to celebrate one more Mass in Jerusalem, offering our thanks to God for all the blessings of this time. Then, we loaded up the rental car, said our goodbyes and thank-yous to our new friends at St. Etienne and made our way to the airport near Tel Aviv.

We had similar flight times and were warned to check in at least three hours before our flight. It is still amazing to me that the security interview to get OUT of Jerusalem is as rigorous as the interview to get in. The large amount of incense in my bag (and its resemblance to rock cocaine) was somewhat troubling to the IDF. My keffiyas (Arab headwear) was a cause for concern even thought there were also kippas (Jewish headwear) in the same bag and I assured them they were simply souvenirs and not political statements. They asked a lot of questions, to which the answer (in any civilized, free society) is “none of your business.” But my desire to leave Tel Aviv constrained my tongue. And I played their games so I could go home. I did ask for an explanation two different times of why they wanted me to remove something, and both times was told, “we don’t have to explain ourselves” – 19 y.o. with M-16s sure can be bullies. This was on my list of things I would not miss at all.

My return trip to Tucson, scheduled to last 24 hours, turned into a 34 hour ordeal of missed connections and an extra day in the birthplace of our democracy. I guess I needed the extra dose of freedom, having just escaped totalitarianism. One highlight of my extended layover in Philadelphia was the two (yes, two) orders of bacon I had for breakfast in the airport. The waitress was somewhat amused at my order – 2 orders of bacon and a large coffee. She looked quizzical. “I don’t have to explain myself…” It was soooo tempting, but I told her – I have been pork deprived for a couple of months and I love bacon.

I am planning two more posts on this blog. One will be some theological reflections and the other will be my farewell to Jerusalem.

There are a lot more pictures of all the sites mentioned in this post at my picasa site: http://picasaweb.google.com/frbart.

I love Jordan, part 3 - The Fulfillment of a Lifelong Dream

I have very clear memories of my first encounter with Petra, even though it was more than 40 years ago. It was in the form of a black and white photo in the Archaeological Supplement of my Granny Hutcherson’s Thompson Chain Reference Bible. I remember being incredulous that they carved the whole front of a huge building into the rock. Throughout my life, every time I have encountered a picture of Petra, I have wished for the opportunity to see it face-to-face. Jordan became a part of our itinerary this summer because of that life-long desire of mine. You know how sometimes the expectation or anticipation of something far outweighs the reality. I suppose that could have been the case with the Madaba map – I built it up so much in my mind ahead of seeing it. Of course it wasn’t – if you have read my posts about it, you know it even far exceeded my expectations. But 40 years is a long time to have an image build up in your mind… So what would we encounter in Petra?

First a history lesson:
The area known as Petra is in a mountainous region of Southern Jordan and strategically situated on three major trade routes between Africa/Red Sea and Damascus, between Persia and the Mediterranean Sea and between the Gulf region and Palestine. Because it is in a mountainous region, it is not particular hospitable to the movement of armies, it is outside the scope of that sort of strategic importance. The people of the region are Semitic nomads. Biblically, this land is called Edom and its people, the Edomites, are the descendants of Esau (Jacob’s brother and the rightful heirs of Isaac’s 1st Son blessing – Genesis 27). The Edomites are Arabs and one of the five traditional enemies of Israel – when you know that the ancestor of the Israelites stole their birthright, it makes sense that Israel would vilify this people throughout their history. One of the reasons that Rebekah (Isaac’s wife and Jacob and Esau’s Mom) helped Jacob deceive Isaac into giving Jacob the blessing, is that Esau had married a daughter of Ishmael – Isaac’s half brother who had been sent to die in the desert. Rebekah did not want to promise of Israel to pass into the line of Ishmael (are you keeping up? This is the oldest soap-opera in history!) After Esau was rejected, he went to live among his Ishmaelite wife’s people; and he and his brother-in-law, Nabaoth, became the progenitors of the Edomites and Nabateans. These are the people of Petra.

The town of Petra itself is called Sela or Seir in the Bible. It is mentioned numerous places in the Bible – usually as a place that Israel is fighting. The Israelites encounter the Nabateans on their Exodus and Moses curses Sela on his deathbed. So as a Biblical place, Petra is not very important. Historically, the Nabatean people did quite well for themselves. At first they were pirates and raiders of the trade routes that crossed through their territories. But eventually they realized there was much more money to be made as policemen and toll-takers on the routes. They set up a protection racket and made their piracy official. They also mined and smelted copper when the Israelites still had no means of refining metal to make weapons. It was in these capacities, as toll takers of the high desert and producers of refined copper, that the Nabateans became a city-dwelling culture and built Petra. Petra was important as a hidden city. If you were extracting tolls from trading caravans and selling weapons-grade metal, it would be important to have an out of the way place to store you goods and your profit. It is thought that this is the reason that they built their city in such an out of the way place.

In the 200 years before the birth of Jesus, Nabateans became a powerful people who controlled the trade in spices, perfume and copper from Africa and the Far East making its way to The Middle East and the Mediterranean world. As a major center on trade routes, Petra became a place that was influenced by the many cultures it serviced. At Petra one finds clear representations of Persian, Babylonian, Egyptian, Ethiopian, Greek, Roman, Arab, and Jewish influences. But there is one thing that Petra is universally known for that is almost entirely unique in the hidden city in the high Jordanian desert: it’s building materials and techniques.

As I have traveled around Israel and Jordan and catalogued these travels, I have spoken about the stones used in building – sometimes remarking about their size, more often about the particular stone themselves. It is often a wonder to reflect on where they came from and how ancient cultures moved them. Had conventional building techniques been used in Petra, we would have wonder, where did the stone come from, how did they haul it up these huge mountains? But in Petra, builders were not working from conventional building techniques – instead, they dug into the existing mountains and cliffs around them, creating spacious buildings and dwellings, and then carved elaborate facades on the buildings that rivaling in beauty the most beautiful buildings in the world. In addition to this unique technique, one must remark on the raw material as well. The particular stone being carved in the building of Petra is very soft and very colorful. Depending on how the light hits it at any particular time of day, the stone changes between a rich tan color and flaming red. It is marbled with white stone so that it looks like noting so much as bacon (this may reflect my missing pork), although one of my travelling companions called it “sashimi rock” all day. No amount of reading about Petra can prepare you for the dance of light and stone that adds a natural element to the artifice of Petra. Enough background, on with the story. We decided to go to Petra as early as possible in order to make the most of our one day there. Being Sunday, we needed to celebrate Mass. We decided to do so at 5:00 AM so that we could be at the gate of Petra when it opened at 6 a.m. The mountain formations around the entrance to the long passage through which one must pass to get to Petra is worth the trip in itself. The natural rock formations and sheer cliffs remind me of parts of Northern Arizona and New Mexico, or Southern Utah. In fact one might image any of the Old West’s outlaws (instead of Bedouin herders) establishing their hideouts in the crags and caves of these cliffs.

The passage to Petra – the Siq - is a natural break in the rock that fills with water during the short rainy season. Its walls have been carved as sheer cliffs by eons of erosion. It varies in width between 24” at its smallest, and 10 or 12 feet at its widest. It is more than a mile long and would take about 20 minutes to walk were we not stopping along the way to wonder at its natural beauty and the memorials and shrines carves in the cliffs on our way down to Petra. I say “down” because the Siq steadily declines along its length. The Siq is not the only entrance to Petra, but it is by far the most accommodating, and over the years it has been paved. Throughout, one finds remnants of the huge paving stones used by the Roman Empire that are so evident in many of the sites I have visited this Summer – from Rome to Jerash. At the entrance to the Siq are a number of carved blocks called Djinn stones or “god stones.” They are shrines to a Petran god. Before even entering the Siq, we encountered the first of many carved facades at which we would wonder during the day. The “Obelisk tomb” is and elaborate carved faced surmounted by Petran obelisks, the likes of which we would encounter throughout the day.

I have read enough about Petra to know that one of the joys of the day is coming to the end of the Siq and getting your first look at Petra’s most well-known monument, which is called “the Treasury.” So many other travelers have written about the experience that you might think it would kill the joy of the anticipation and the actual experience. But, in my case, two things worked against that: my own enthusiasm to be here, and the fact that the treasury was the building that I saw in the archaeology guide when I was in elementary school. I have waited a life time to stand in front of that building. My anticipation was not the mere distance of the Siq, it was the distance of 40 years. We were blessed to be in the Siq so early. We encountered one group of five young people who entered after us but over took us on route and one other group of three travelers. So that when we came to the End of the Siq, we did not have to compete for a spot to get good photographs of our “first glimpse” of the Treasury. My experience of first glimpse was made all the more glorious by sun’s position as we came to the end of the Siq. The sun had just crested the cliffs in front of the Treasury so that we saw the Treasury in first light. You can see in the picture that the sun is just barely beginning to shine on the upper part of the building.

After photographing first glimpse, I stepped into the clearing in front of the Treasury to take in the splendor. My heart was swelled with joy as I stood in front of this breathtaking site. This building has not religious significance for me whatsoever, so the experience was different than that of Seeing St. Peter’s bones, or being on the mountain of the Transfiguration, or seeing the Madaba Map – this was the joy of reality being even more glorious than expectation, anticipation, and dream. Though I seen many photos of the Treasury over the years, no photo can prepare you for the sheer immensity of this monument. It rises to the height of an 8 story building, but has the proportions of only two stories. The Entrance Door alone is more than 50 feet tall. Encountering it for the first time, it would be easy to assume that one had come to the dwelling place of giants.

The beauty and mystique of this first Petran monument was enhanced by the presence of four camels strategically parked to be in every photography of the building./ Throughout the day, we would encounter these camels and others as they ferried tourists and pilgrims up and down the major passages between the Siq and the other places in Petra. There is quite a little cottage industry operated by the Bedouins who inhabit many of the caves around Petra providing beasts of burden (donkeys, mules, and camels) to taxi travelers to more difficult to climb places in the surrounding areas. (More about this later)

I stood in front of the Treasury soaking in the 40 years I have wanted to stand in this place. As a movie buff, the obvious Indiana Jones reference crossed my mind and I wanted to go in and see the ancient knight guarding the Hoy Grail and be told that I had “chosen wisely” as I selected the cup of the carpenter and drank from the spring of life. But of course, that is a fiction. When I did make my way up the stairs to peer into the gaping door, I found a large empty room with more elaborate carvings on the wall. This space reveals the real use of this building – it is a tomb. Nabatean Tombs have two levels – the upper level which contain the remains of the deceased and a lower room called a triclinium, which is a dining room in which the Nabateans threw elaborate parties on significant anniversaries of the death of their loved ones. I would learn throughout the day that the treasury is one of the best-preserved of Petra’s facades. It is built on a slight incline so that the rushing waters that come from the Siq have not eroded it the way we witnessed on other buildings. It is also protected from strong winds. So while what erosion there is is wind erosion (all detail is gone from the sculptures in the niches of the Treasury), the basic structure of the building remains sharp today.

After taking many photos of the Treasury I stood in awe-filled reflection, thinking I could easily leave happy at that moment. I had seen what I came to see. But the day had many other treasures to unfold. We spent more than 14 hours in Petra arriving at 1st light and travelling back up the Siq at the end of the day dangerously close to no light.

I pulled myself away from the treasury and advanced farther down the cliff-lined passageway towards the area of the main city of Petra. Along the way the cliffs are dotted above with caves, some of which were tombs, and some of which were dwellings. We passed many more carves tomb facades and wondered at the colors of the stones. I took so many pictures because as the light changed, so did the images. More sun meant more colors coming out. All day long, I would take a photo in one direction, turn to take a photo in another, only to find that the change of light dictated the need for a second photo in the first direction. I ended up with more than 900 pictures of Petra.

After passing though the street lined with tomb facades, one comes to the second indication of the Roman Empire’s 1st century occupation of Petra: a Roman theatre. This is the place that I became first impressed by the powerful effects of erosion in this place. The Roman theatre in Petra looks a lot like those we have seen in other places, except it is not built up. Like everything else in Petra, it was carved into the cliff face. If it still very clear that this is a semi-circular Roman theater, but it could not be used for events today (as almost all those have encountered are) because the rows of seat have eroded away. This theatre is in a far worse state of repair than any other we have encountered precisely because it is carved in the soft stone of Petra, which has given way to the ravages of time and the elements.

Beyond the theatre, on the opposite side of the passage, we encountered the first of what are collectively known as the “Royal Tombs.” Like the treasury, these are elaborate carved facades with clear Greco-Roman influence. It is hard to pinpoint exactly how many tombs there are because they seem to be interconnected and there would be room here to bury whole cities. But generally there are four huge tomb complexes – The Silk tomb, the Urn tomb, the Corinthian tomb and Palace Tomb. The photos here speak for themselves. We spent a long time in front of these monuments and watched the sun crest the hill over them. We got up close to look at the white marbling in the stone and to see the effects of erosion.

We plotted our course fro the rest of the morning to see the ruins of the Roman city of Petra (kinda ho-hum after Jerash – when you have seen one Cardo, you’ve seen ‘em all – and not nearly as beautiful as the Nabatean carved facades that surround them). We spent a few minutes in the ruins of the Byzantine Church on the fill overlooking the Roman ruins. Christianity came to Petra relatively early and this 6th Century church bespeaks a large Christian community in Petra. The mosaics have been well-preserved and present some of the most realistic depictions of animals we have encountered in this art-form.

We crossed from the Church through the ruins to the largest building (in the traditional sense of a free –standing structure built from the ground up of stone) – the Temple of Dushara, the Nabatean Sun-god. It was fun to be in this structure. After looking around for a few minutes, I spied a doorway in which there were stairs. I had to climb over some rocks to get to it (and I’m not sure I was supposed to get to it) but the stairs lead up to the top of the Temple ruins, offering a great place to take photos and to get the panorama of the surrounding valley. Frs. Steve and Carl and I all like to go to the highest place we can to get the best view or the great photo.

Because we celebrated Mass and went to Petra so early, none of us had breakfast on Sunday. The surprising thing was that none of the food establishments in Petra serve even a basic breakfast. We could get coffee, but the earliest food we could get was 11 am. We chose the Crowne Plaza Restaurant and were not disappointed. Knowing that we were going to push into the afternoon with some of the more strenuous climbing, we decided to have a leisurely lunch and really tank up for the afternoon. Over lunch, we decided that we wanted to reserve our energy for more strenuous climbing, so we would take the offered donkey ride up to the high place known in Petra as the Monastery. Like the Treasury, the Monastery is a must-see and is one of the better preserved monuments in the Petra region, but it is more than 1200 steps up a steep climb of several hundred feet. The Bedouins who offer donkey rides encourage people to save their energy getting up to the monastery because there is a lot of additional climbing to do in the heights around that monument.

I rode a donkey a few years ago in Mexico and was surprised (and most grateful) how sure-footed the animal was. The path to the monastery was even more precarious than the path I rode in Mexico. My Bedouin guide put me on a large mule and warned me that he was very strong. I was mostly okay with the ride, but there were times that I felt the poor beast hauling my fat-ass up that mountain was enduring more than was humane. We had a great time riding the donkeys and the walk that would have taken us more than an hour, was completed in less than half the time. When we descended from the donkeys we had to climb 5 minutes more before we came to the clearing in front of the Monastery. As I came a round the corner, a young Bedouin girl asked me is I wanted my Keffiya (Arab headdress that I was wearing to ward off the sun) tied like a Bedouin. She had me kneel in front of her and she tied it in the way of her people. Before the day was finished other people would make the same offer for Frs. Carl and Steve – we ended our day in Petra welcomed by the Bedouin and even honored to wear our heads wrapped like theirs.




As we completed out climb, we came to the place of the Monastery. IT is a wide open elliptical clearing that was used for religious purposes in the past. While this was called the monastery by 19th Century archaeologists, it is really an important Temple to one of the deified Nabatean kings. The steps carved into the mountain used today by tourists and donkeys, were a pilgrim route to this high worship place. The elliptical plaza was a gathering space for large congregations of worshippers.

Surrounding this remarkable Nabatean structure were caves and numerous peaks which promised breath-taking views of the mountains and the desert beyond. After resting in the shade of a cave across from the Monastery for a while, we set out to ascent all those peaks. At the summit of each were great views of the monastery itself and of the surrounding country side. There were also savvy Bedouin selling water and soft drinks and trinkets. At the top of one of the higher peaks, called the ‘view at the end of the world’ we saw scenery that can only be rivaled in natural grandeur by the Grand Canyon. Here we sat for a long while and reflected on the beauty of this place and crowned out day by praying the Evening Office together. We then descended back to the monastery, took some pictures and began our trek down the donkey steps.

The sun was already low against the western heights and most tourist s had already preceded us down the mountain. On our way down, we met Nila, a young Bedouin merchant, who had closed up shop for the day, and was headed down on her faithful donkey. We ended up walking most of the way down the mountain in her delightful company – where she explained everything we saw and made sure we looked in the right directions to take advantage of the light cast by the afternoon sun. When we had reached the bottom she told us that the best view of sunset would be at what is called the “High Place of Sacrifice,” a height as steep and nearly as far up as the monastery, but which overlooked the main valley of Petra. We had decided not to make that ascent in the morning so as to have time at other sites. At the end of a long day on our feet and on high paths, the ascent to the High Place was almost more than I could handle. We were al hurting by the time we got to the top, but we all agreed that it was worth it. Much of what we had seen illuminated by the high sun in the late morning and early afternoon was now bathed in the light of the setting sun. And the colors were completely different. I was concerned that we would have a 45 minute walk down the mountain after the sun dipped behind the western mountains, but it turned out to be enough. It is hard to imagine a more spectacular sunset than that we saw on the High Place. Mountain tops have always attracted religious sentiment – places of Sacrifice, temples, dwellings of gods etc, and the Nabateans lived into that ideal by locating their primary place of sacrifice on the crest of this rocky crag.

After the light of the sun was no longer beaming across the valley, we hurried down the mountain by the route closer to the entrance to the Siq. When arrived at the bottom it was nearly dark. There in the twilight was the monument we had seen at first light nearly 14 hours before. In near darkness, the Treasury has a remarkably different look to it. We paused for the pictures we could make happen in this low light. Circumstances has conspired to keep us from spending the day and half we had planned in Petra, but we left satisfied that we had squeezed as much as we could out the 14 hours we spent there. By the time we got to the end of the Siq it was dangerously dark and we were exhausted, but it was among the most satisfying exhaustions I have ever experienced. Of all the sites I have visited in the last two months, Petra is among the most spectacular. IT is made so by the fact that so few people will ever make the trek to see it. I have spoken to a lot of people who have lived in the Middle East for many years and have never made the trip. Many people came to know it by its inclusion in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (and some other movies since then). Because it remains off the beaten track and because it is not known to those interested I the Bible as the site of any big Biblical story, many who visit the Middle East will never go there. I feel blessed to have been given the opportunity and it did not disappoint my 40 years of wanting to see it. It was a day filled with surprise after surprise and wonder after wonder. Around each corner was another breathtaking site. In many ways, what I have just said about Petra can be applied in a large way to my whole Holy Land experience. Everyday and every turn of the corner has been yet another breathtaking site. As I prepare to leave and return to the U.S. I am every bit as excited and enthusiastic about this remarkable land as I was when I arrived on June 10th. Petra is special and, partly because it was our last excursion, will always be counted among the highlights of this time in the Holy Land. But not just because it was the last, but because we saved the best for last.

Be sure to take a look at all my Petra pictures on Picasa: http://picasaweb.google.com/FrBart/0726Petra.

I Love Jordan!!!! (and Jordanians) part 2

We chose to take the Desert Highway – a shorter, less scenic route from Madaba to Wadi Musa the village outside of Petra. We wanted the most direct route so that we would be able to get a few hours in Petra on Saturday afternoon. That was a good choice but a Saturday visit to Petra was not in the cards. About half way to Wadi Musa, our right front tire blew out and thus began a new kind of adventure. We were on the side of a major highway that is travelled by almost every long-haul truck in the Kingdom. We had seen a number of tire repair places along the highway our little rental van would be back up and running in no time. Insha’Allah (as they say here, God willing). Well apparently, God had some patience lessons to teach first…

As three perfectly capable men were preparing to change the tire – removed the spare, found the jack and tools, even already jack the care up – a Jordanian truck driver named Mohammed stopped and took over the operation. We were having a problem with one of the lug nuts and were somewhat reluctant to simply force it. Mohammed had no such reluctance and got it off quickly only to find that it was tripped in side – only the first of our problems. We also pointed out that the spare was in horrible condition and that it would be wise to get the other tire fixed soon. He pointed out that there were tire places all along the way and we should simply proceed forward and stop at the first. We were very grateful for his assistance and could not thank him enough. In what we would, over the next few days come to know as simple Jordanian hospitality, this truck driver on the side of the highway offered us tea or coffee. We declined the hospitality so that we could resume our trip, but I would like to have seen how he would have prepared it on the roadside. We were the stranger in his midst and in traditional Semitic fashion, Mohammed saw us as his responsibility while we are in his land. He was the first of many gifts we would encounter on Saturday.

We continued South and soon found another tire shop. The first thing we noticed was that all the tires were huge truck tires. Sure enough, all those tire shops we were encountering catered to the Truck traffic on the highway. The mechanic took a look at our flat tire and said it was not fixable (I think – he spoke not a word of English) and indicated it would have to replaced and pointed us in the direction of Amman. We were two hours out of Amman, we did not want to have to go back. We showed him the map and asked him about the towns in front of us. He and a driver who stopped both indicated that it would not be possible to get the tire fixed in any of the small towns between there and Petra. We pointed then to the next sizable town south, called Ma’an, and he indicated we would find a mechanic there. So we headed south.

Because we were concerned about the integrity of the spare tire, we drove more slowly than I normally would and it took us about an hour to get to Ma’an. We quickly found a shop and were enthusiastically greeted by the mechanic speaking broken English. Good sign. “You American? America good! Obama? Obama good man! Bush, not so good man. Obama good man!” Okay as much as I can buy the particular political position, politics is not what I am looking for here. My mind is racing with all the negative possibilities of our particular situation and I see our time in Petra this afternoon fleeting. We simply want to get the tire fixed or replaced and move on. But in the Middle East, business is about relationships and nothing is done quickly. Emet, our mechanic would prove to be a vey welcoming host for the next two hours. I was quite impatient with the whole situation and frustrated with our limited ability of our host (who incidentally spent three years in the Jordanian Special Forces on the King’s security detail) to communicate. He was undaunted by my frustration and kept the air very light. Thank goodness for the ever-patient Fr. Carl who ran interference between Emet’s pro-American enthusiasm and my growing frustration. (I wonder if he would have been so enthusiastic to help us if George Bush were still President. :) After looking at the tire, Emet proposed that it had to be replaced. He searched through various used tires in his shop (mind you, there was not a single new tire anywhere in the shop). I called Reliable Rent-a-car Company to discuss this with them - they asked us to bring the blown out tire back with us so they could make a determination as to whether they should pay for the repair or not. (they will henceforth be referred to as “Unreliable”). My cell phone does not work in Jordan, so I was at he mercy of using a strangers phone. Emet did not have a phone, but the proprietor of the stationary shop on his block was more that willing to let me use his phone.

Before the next step Emet insisted in stepping next door to buy us a Pepsi. No sensein refusing. We offered to pay for our drink and his. You know, for someone who considers himself a relatively savvy traveler, I sure haven’t learned the Arab hospitality thing very well – his buying us a drink was his duty of hospitality and my offering to pay for it was robbing him of that kindness. Doh!

Back in the shop, a number of proposals were floated most of which included our continuing our journey on either our precarious spare or his putting a not-much better used tire on. The problem was that he did not have a tire of the proper size _ “No Problem” he kept saying. Eventually, his collegue located a new tire in another shop on the other side of town and took a taxi to get it. We had to give him the cash to go buy the tire (not a comfortable way of doing business for me, but the way things are done here.) It took a while for him to return with the tire – nothing happens quickly here. During that time we took pictures with our host and Fr. Carl gave him an impromptu English grammar lesson.

Once Emet’s friend returned with the brand new tire, it took only minutes to repair and we were on the way again, Grateful for the hospitality and care we were offered by yet a second and third Jordanian ministering angel of the day. The sun was getting low in the afternoon sky and it would take us about an hour to arrive in our hotel in Wadi Musa.

We arrived at 6 pm the very hour that the ticket office for Petra closed. That’s okay, Sunday would be a full day in Petra (and I mean full day). Our hotelier told us about “Little Petra” a few kilometer’s beyond Petra where we could climb up and see the Sunset. Fr. Carl was not feeling well and, given that we planned a 5 am start on Sunday, decided to call it an early evening. Fr. Steve and I headed for Little Petra. Our host was right, it was a beautiful place to watch the sunset and gave us a foretaste of the Glory that would be ours on Sunday. Here a few Little Petra photos, there are a lot more at http://picasaweb.google.com/FrBart/0725LittlePetra.

I LOVE Jordan!!!!! Part 1

I have just returned from five days in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan and I found it a lovely country. As I have expressed in numerous previous posts, 2 of the places I have most been looking forward to seeing are in Jordan and they did not disappoint. But everywhere I went, I found Jordan to be a place welcoming of strangers and hospitable in every sense of the word. I have known a number of Jordanians in the US over the years (both Christians and Muslims) and always found them to be wonderful people, I was so happy to learn that they are not the exception but, but the rule in this little Kingdom.

Why am I gushing so? Because my experience as a traveler was a real contrast to Israel. Israel made it difficult for us to get out of their country and Jordan welcomed us. Jordan made it simple for us to leave and Israel made it as difficult as possible for us to get back in. That ongoing sense of welcome is something I have experienced among the Arabs I have encountered in the Middle East. In contrast, I have often felt that the Israelis would just as soon I go home.

Reason two - We had mechanical problems twice on the road in Jordan and the men we encountered bent over backwards to help us with as little impact as possible. That ancient sense of treating the stranger in your midst well and considering him your responsibility while he is in your midst (characteristic of all Semitic peoples) is alive and well among the good people of the Hashemite Kingdom - both Arab and Bedouin - and I was grateful for it.

We arrived in Jordan on an incredibly hot Thursday afternoon. The closest border crossing to Jerusalem is the King Hussein Bridge (called he Allenby Bridge by Israelis) just north of the Dead Sea and east of Jericho. We chose this crossing because it is closest to the sites we wanted to see in the north of Jordan. The process to get out of Israel took two hours and the process to get into Jordan took 20 minutes. One takes a bus across the militarized zone and the actual bridge between the two stations.

Our rent-a-car was waiting for us when we arrived. We headed out for our first stop - the site where Jesus was baptized. Since the cessation of hostilities between Jordan in Israel in the 1990s there has been a lot of cooperation of Jordan with international archaeological groups to discover important sites around that country. Among them is the actual site of Jesus' Baptism. We are told in John's Gospel that John the Baptist's activity was at "Bethany beyond the Jordan." Excavations in the late 90s at a Jordanian site called Bathania have unearthed the ruins of at least 6 Byzantine and ancient Churches that mark recall this site and its natural spring - a tributary of the Jordan as the actual place where Jesus was baptized.

Because this site is so close to the Dead Sea and so far below Sea Level, it is very hot. The development of the area to handle tourist is still young, but the one necessary commodity that they must have is drinking water - it is so incredibly hot. The day we were there the person in charge of selling the drinking water had gone home for the day. That made this site very dangerous, actually, and our guide was quite embarrassed, having assured us that there would be water there. He was able to get us some lukewarm drinking water from a fountain nearby. That aside, it is clear that this remote site is under development. There are a number of modern churches and institutions under construction in the area and in a few years it is going to be a thriving tourist/pilgrimage site.

The most interesting part for me was the excavations of the ancient churches and the actual pool of water from the spring itself. We also walked down to the Jordan River, a few hundred feet away and could look across at the highly developed Israeli concession for remembering the baptism of Jesus. It was developed a long time ago and is quite nice. The water of the Jordan is quite polluted this far south (a real contrast to what we saw in Dan and Baniass). Consensus is growing that the historical and archaeological evidence points to this Jordanian Site as the actual site of Jesus' Baptism. Right at the river, there is a beautiful little Greek Orthodox Church dedicated to St. John the Baptist.

We left the Baptism Site and drove up to Mt. Nebo, high above the Dead Sea and overlooking the Holy Land. It was from Mt. Nebo that God allowed Moses to see the Promised Land (Deut. 34:1). The site on Mt. Nebo is holy to Christians, Muslims, and Jews all of whom honor Moses as a Prophet - it is dedicated to Moses. There were two disappointments at Mt. Nebo - 1) the sky was so hazy that one could barely see into Israel at all - it is clear that Moses was not invited up Mt. Nebo on a hot July day months after the last rain. We are told he could see all of the Land of Promise from that summit. And I guess that is still true today in a more hospitable climate (say, wintertime). 2) The Church of St. Moses was closed to pilgrims for the sake of more archaeological work going on there now. What we did see of note there were some beautiful mosaics that are on display outside the Church and two interesting monuments - one recalls the serpent lifted up by Moses in the wilderness. Clearly a cross intertwined by a serpent, the monument is very christological. The second monument was given in honor of Pope John Paul II Jubilee year visit to this site in 2000. It is engraved in both Latin and Arabic with the words "One God, father of us all, over all" The late Pontiff also planted an olive tree beside the sculpture to signify the Peace that he prays for in the Holy Land.

From Mt. Nebo, we headed down to Madaba hoping to arrive in time that I might get my first glimpse at the Map I have so been longing to see. Unfortunately, the Church closed early for the evening because of a funeral. Oh well, we were spending two nights in Madaba; I would have plenty of time to see the Map. So we had dinner and explored this quaint little town a little.

On Friday we headed north to see the ruins of the Roman City of Jerash. Jerash (Gerasa) was one of the cities that made up the Decapolis - these cities defined an area of Frontier that was more Greco-Roman than its Semitic neighbors. They were highly Hellenized during the Hellenic period, and they were largely inhabited by Gentiles in the Roman period. We are told that Jesus ministered in the area of the Decapolis in Mark 5 (We went to Kursi earlier - that was in the area of the Garasenes - the Garasenes were inhabitants of Gerasa - modern day Jerash). So the extensive and beautiful ruins at Jerash are Greco Roman - like those we saw at Bet She'an (another of the Decapolis cities). We started the day thinking that we had seen enough Greco-Roman ruins that we would be ready to head back to Madaba in the afternoon to see the Map.

Little did we know that Jerash would so completely capture our imaginations. Easily more than twice the size of any ruin we had been to before, there is so much to see and explore. With regards to tourism, it is the exact antithesis of the Baptismal site, with lots of services and very well-developed tourist services. In the hippodrome (circus) the Jordanian Army sponsors a demonstration of Roman military maneuvers. Special forces soldiers dressed in full Roman armor demonstrate drill and fighting techniques well known in history. The show continues with a demonstration of gladiatorial games and culminates with a Chariot Race. This is the only place in the Middle East that we have encountered the kind of show we would expect to see at an historical site in the United States and it was a lot of fun! It is called RACE (Roman Army and Chariot Experience) and shows a couple of times each day. And here is the icing on the cake - the audience is invited to meet and have photos taken with the characters from the show. As that was wrapping up, one of the chariot drivers asked me if I wanted to go for a spin around the hippodrome. Before I could say know he said "jump on" and I found my self being whisked away behind two very powerful horses. It was great!!!!!

Before Lunch we had only managed to see and photograph the Triumphal Arch and the Hippodrome both of which are technically outside the Archaeological park itself. It became quickly clear that there was so much to see at Jerash that we would stay all day and into the evening. The map would have to wait until Saturday. We enjoyed the warm day in the sun crawling all over the ruins of temples, churches, mosques, fountains, gates, theatres, baths, monuments, and roads. Jerash is a truely amazing site adn I will have more to say about it in the post I will do about the history of the middle East. We left around sundown and drove back to Madaba. There are more than 700 pictures from Jerash at my Picasa site: http://picasaweb.google.com/FrBart/0724Jerash.

On Saturday mornign we checked out of our Madaba digs and headed over to see the Map (finally). I was giddy with anticipation to see this one mosaic that has become so important to me only in the last few weeks. As I said in my post of July 8 (http://frbartjerusalem.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-just-mad-about-madaba.html) I have become somewhat obsessed with the image of hte depiction of Jerusalem that is at the center of the 6th Century mosaic. My classmates have taken to pointing out any reference or image of the map we see anywhere in our travels. It is amazing to me that 20th and 21st Century archaeologists check their assumptions and calculations against the information contained on this 6th Century artistic representation. It is a kind of Archaeological Rosetta Stone (never mind that the Rosetta Stone is an archaeological rosetta stone...). I have read everything I can get my hands on about the map and it is become a symbol for me of this whole experience. The anticipation did not disappoint. As I said in my brief post on Saturday evening, I was moved to tears at the sight of it.

First of all, let me say that St. George Church in Madaba is a beautiful little church right in the middle of this little city. It has a number of beautiful mosaics on the wall representing a range of saints and all the significant moment sin the life of Our Lord and Our Lady. But what everyone comes to this church to see is this Mosaic which covers about a sixth or an eighth of the floor space in the Church. Throughout the town you see signs indicated that such and such a business is across from the "map church" or the "mosaic church." It isn't even called "St. George" by the local populace. The Map is a religious relic in that it is an adornment in an historical church. It is an important archaeological artifact and historical record in that helps historians locate 6th Century geography and gives context to other historical realities. It has also become a real symbol of my experience this summer. IN addition to being a time to study Scripture, this summer has been a marvelous romp through thousands of years of history. We have been to places that were occupied 10,000 years ago - but we have made a systematic study of nearly 5000 years of religious and cultural history. The study has dragged us through all three of the great monotheistic religions of the Middle East and down the avenue of pagan worship. It has brought us to layers upon layers of historical conquest and the movements of peoples. It has given context to great historical and religious movements, and it has given us the opportunity to refocus our attention on that which has been important to countless cultures and cavitations. The Map is a symbol of all of that. It was under the weight of that burden that I was moved to tears at finally seeing the Madaba Map. To peer finally at the original is to see Michelangelo’s David after seeing so many copies and parodies all my life. While not the most sophisticated of the many, many mosaics I have seen this summer, it is, arguably, the most significant. We spent a good deal of time in the Church. I took more than 200 pictures. I genuflected, and lay down on the map and was even moved to venerate it with a kiss - and then it was time to go. I bought a copy of a book that interprets the entire map and offers a key to the Greek labels that appear on the Map. But more importantly, I bought the one important souvenir that I will take from this summers experience - I bought my own mosaic copy of the Madaba Map of Jerusalem. Once back in Tucson, I will have it framed and it will be a reminder always of the Glory of this two months. There are a lot of pictures of the Mosaic Map at: http://picasaweb.google.com/FrBart/0725MadabaMosaics.

After St. George we stopped in to see the beautiful mosaics at the Church of St. Mary the Virgin and the Madaba Archaeological Center. They were beautiful, but face it; they are the step-siblings of the Madaba Map. In late morning we headed out of Madaba for our next important destination and the fulfillment of a life long dream: Petra. To be continued...