ISRAEL - Part 9 Lia's Highlight of the Trip

There are so many things to write about! I'm limiting myself to three more Israel blogs after this one. Before the months out I need to also get to stories about Adventure Princess camp, a pet fish, and a rescued bird. All said, May 2013 has been my garrulousest month to date.

So back to Israel. I'm skipping over some tremendous stuff to get to this: the House of Hope. This is where we are starting Young Life in Bethlehem. Not with the rich. Not with the influential. But with the blind and the down syndomed and the autistic girls and boys and men and women who have been rejected by their families. 

Yousef worked here for two years and couldn't think of any other students he would rather spend time with. And after spending an hour with them myself, it is easy to understand why. Lia had one of those weepy, snotty experiences where she laughs to cover up how emotional she has become only to create more mucous in the process that squirts out her nose and up her forearms. The kind of moment that makes me fall in love with her all over again. 

It's hard to blame her. We sang songs and listened to the prayers of these quick-to-be-made friends. 

 This young girl below can't speak, but she sat down next to Lia, proceeded to grab Ibrahim's arm then place it around herself...it was the first and perhaps only smile we saw on Ibrahim's face all week.

Yousef is putting together a Young Life Capernaum camp for these children this summer. If you are interested in supporting this project financially, contact me. 

And if you are ever in Bethlehem, spend a few minutes less at the Church of the Nativity and stop by the House of Hope. I promise you it will be just as, if not more, uplifting. 

ISRAEL - Part 8 Qumran and the Dead Sea

Between the two sights we were heading to see, there was one I was excited about and one that I wasn't.



Qumran, to me, was going to be amazing. Cliffs and caves in the desert. Realizing my inner-Bedouin and maybe finding some ancient scroll written by Isaiah's brother.

Qumran was cool. But not as cool as what I imagined in my head. For one, I had done too much reading about it, so there was nothing really to learn except to learn that the place is really hot. Worse, the caves were out of bounds. You could only take pictures of them. And the pictures were only good if you had a zoom lens. And the only thing that Ibrahim the tour guide told me of interest was that archaeologists have thoroughly explored every cave seventy miles in both directions. Don't get me wrong - Qumran is worth the visit. The wrongness came from my overblown expectations.



To top it off, Lia and I got in our only fight of the trip. There were these Arabian daggers in the gift shop that were screaming at me to buy them. One for each kid, you know, so it would be even. Lia thought it was a bad idea. "But the kids will love them," I explained. "They'll kill each other," said Lia. "They're blunt," I explained...

We didn't get the daggers. Weaponless, I boarded Islam's bus.

Off to the Dead Sea. Great, floating in buoyant water. Big whoop.

Boy was I wrong. The Dead Sea blew my expectations out of the water (pardon the pun). It was amazing, bizarre, fun, hilarious...something better experienced than described.

Speaking of experience, before we put on our bathing suits, we were instructed not to get our heads wet. Supposedly, if the salt water got in your ears or eyes or mouth it could do bad things to you. How bad could it be? I wondered. It's salt.

I stuck my tongue in the water.

Bad idea. Not that I know what this tastes like, but the Dead Sea tastes exactly like what the bottom of a car tastes like in Chicago in January. I was afraid the part I had submerged was going to shrivel up and fall off. I was sure I had lost forever, in one fatal dip, my sense of taste. That's what I feared.

So much for experience.



Fortunately, feeling came back to my mouth in about fifteen minutes. I celebrated by following the time-honored tradition of covering my body in gooey mud. That was awesome. Like getting fitted for a superhero uniform, not that I know what that feels like either.

 

Check out what it did to my hair!

ISRAEL - Part 7 "Part Two" from headquarters.

Got this from headquarters on Monday. Love it!

Building Bridges, Not Walls Above is a picture of Hunter Lambeth, area developer for Young Life in the Middle East, spending time with these boys at the Separation Wall in Bethlehem. (The wall, constructed to separate Israel from the West Bank, can reach 26 feet high in certain parts and, when completed, will be at least 400 miles long.) Hunter writes, "I just felt compelled to go up and talk to these guys. We talked briefly about the sadness of the wall — that it divides people — and the hope that one day it might come down and there would be true peace between the PEOPLE of Israel and Palestine. These guys are not involved in Young Life, however, we do have Young Life Capernaum ministry in the city of Bethlehem (as well as Young Life in Nazareth and the Northern West Bank.) "We love to use and quote the verse Ephesians 2:14 when thinking about this modern wall," Hunter said. "The Message translation is particularly poignant: 'The Messiah has made things up between us so that we're now together on this, both non-Jewish outsiders and Jewish insiders. He tore down the wall we used to keep each other at a distance. He repealed the law code that had become so clogged with fine print and footnotes that it hindered more than it helped. Then he started over. Instead of continuing with two groups of people separated by centuries of animosity and suspicion, he created a new kind of human being, a fresh start for everybody.'" Thank you to Hunter and his wife, Lauri, for sharing this great photo and message!

PALESTINE - Part 7 Young Life in the Middle East

So we had business to do on this trip, namely Young Life, which means serious, as in, serious fun, but still serious because relationships with others are important and a relationship with God is serious but if these relationships (with others and God) aren't also fun then I might have to question the quality of either relationship.

This was my question: Does Young Life work in the Middle East? In other words, does Young Life's recipe of meeting people where they're at, on their turf, on their terms, with no agenda accept to serve as the best representative of Jesus we can be really work in a part of the world where it appears everyone has already made up their mind?


We arrived in Zababdeh to find out. Yousef has been doing Young Life there for two years. Zababdeh is a historically Christian city; it's the traditional place Jesus met and healed the ten lepers (Luke 17:11-19). Currently, the 15,000 Christian and Muslim inhabitants live in relative peace with one another. Together, they suffer the frustrations of Israeli occupation; though it is more like a cloud than an ever-present torment. (I have more I could write about this, but I won't. There is plenty of blame to spread around, including America.)

football buddies

Back to Zababdeh. We arrived for arabic coffee and dessert. A note on arabic coffee: it's an acquired taste. That's my theory. I haven't acquired it yet. It is more caffeinated sauce than caffeinated beverage. Our team met the Young Life team while I played football (the true international language) in the street. We heard Yousef tell the story of Young Life here, then we walked to Young Life club.



Kids showed up in clumps. Twos, threes, five giggling girls, two shy guys...seventy of them by the time things started. We were in this finished basement of an unfinished house (there was no house).

Club House

Hunter did the ice cream hula hoop skit. I've done the same skit for years. It worked like a charm. Kids laughed. Walls were broken down. A Young Life leader led a mixer involving clothes pins. I did the same skit the week before at my club at Forsyth Country Day School!



The leaders played a couple more games, one I might take home with me, then Yousef gave a talk. And just like in the clubs I've been to all over the United States, the kids listened. They were engaged, rapt absorbing every word. It was amazing. It's always amazing.



Watching the leaders hang out with their teenage friends was like watching the way I want my leaders to hang out with their teenage friends here in North Carolina.

We spent the evening with them, laughing, singing, dancing, and telling stories. I told them, Yousef had to translate, that there was no difference in my opinion between these young men and women leaders than the young men and women that lead with me here in America. In my opinion, they could be Young Life leaders in America someday. Yousef said he wouldn't translate that part. I said, "Why?" He said, "It would make them too happy." He told them anyway. They were happy.

Leaders:

















Young Life works. I was convinced. But I actually had another experience that gave me personal proof.



The next day we were in Jericho. You know, the place where the walls knocked down. We were at the Oasis hotel, a five star...oasis...in the dessert. It was nice. We had a few hours to kill before dinner, so I awkwardly found my way in my shorts past other fully clothed (I mean fully clothed) guests to the gym. I lifted some weights. Pretty much all of them. There weren't that many. Then, ran on the treadmill in kilometers per hour. (It seemed longer than miles per hour). I don't know why.

Anyway, out of the corner of my eye I saw a ping pong table. Now that's what I call five star! I challenged the Keshians to singles. Took Nancy down. Then Rich. I was feeling it. Some Palestinian guys walked in and challenged me. I took on the bigger of the two. I'll call him Raj. I walloped him. But we had a good time. He cussed after every point - in perfect diction. It was great.

Hunter came in and we played Raj and his buddy in doubles. It was a heated, explicative-laced, death match. The Americans won. Raj, his friend, Hunter and I talked until dinner time.

Later, Hunter led our group in a little business meeting (see, business trip). I played a few songs. On the way back to my room this group of teenagers yell at me. Turns out, Raj was with them. They asked me if I could play for them. I said sure. Then Raj's buddy started singing Country Roads. I accompanied him. We laughed. They asked me if I knew any Jason Mraz. We sang I'm yours. Then on to Taylor Swift, Enrique Iglesias, etc. The result is probably on youtube somewhere. I haven't looked. It was unbelievable. We talked for awhile. I introduced Hunter and Yousef to them and headed to bed. Yousef ended up talking to Raj for about a half an hour. They're going to meet up in Nablus this week to talk some more. All that from ping pong.

That's Young Life.



Can't wait to see how the Lord my use them!

ISRAEL - Part 6 The Food

The staple wherever we went was pitas, hummus, and "salad" which consisted of several plates including marinated red cabbage, cucumber and tomato salad, tabouli, and medley of sweet peppers. These were often accompanied by meat, usually arriving on skewers.

Other mainstays were Schwarma. Basically, meat in a pita.

And falafel, which is basically fried chick pea balls in a pita.

Lots of pitas.

Good thing I love pitas.

A friend of mine advised me to eat falafel in Jerusalem, which is advice well-taken to all of you heading to Jerusalem any time soon. Falafel man's falafel will no doubt ruin every other falafel experience I will have for the rest of my life.

Correct falafel eating technique

Me and the Falafel Man

Some other memorable meals during the trip:

(1) The first morning, I befriended the chef (surprise, surprise) who in exchange for my friendship cooked me up an omelet I will never soon forget. It was your basic pepper, tomato and onion job with one subtle twist. A spice. I knew I knew it. I just couldn't figure out what it was. Finally, I asked him what it was. He said, "Mint." Mint in an omelet. Who would have thunk? Brilliant.

(2) Eating fish heads (it was actually Lia's fish head) by the Sea of Galilee brought back some serious memories from my time in Kenya when I used to eat kichwa cha samaki. It's a Swahili old wives tale that if you eat kichwa cha samaki (fish heads) you get smarter. I was hoping it would help me with Swahili. This time I was hoping I would keep it down.

befriend the fish before eating it

Hunter is hilarious in the background of both these shots

A third meal that I will remember with great fondness, mostly for the company (though the food was exceptional) was with our new friends Gary and Cindy Bayer, perhaps the two most hospitable human beings on God's earth. Much could be said about this couple. I'll leave it at this: they have a simple, clear vision that when realized could quite possibly change the world. It was there we also met the wonderful Erez and Cici (president and first lady of Jerusalem Bible College).

Gary and Cindy

Erez and Cici

A final meal that will remain in my mind was outside Zababida with our Palestinian Young Life friends (more to come on them). I'll also remember it for being my first hookah smoke!

It's all in the stance

Like a pro

Sorry Nancy, I'd photoshop you eyes if I knew how

ISRAEL - Part 5 Mount Arbel

Sometimes the best discoveries come totally by surprise. That's what happened to Hunter, Scott and I on our last day in Galilee. Near our outpost in Nos Ginosar there is a mountain called Arbel. The cliffs there were mouthwateringly close not to give them a shot.



We left before breakfast. Little did we know that there was far more to these cliffs than met the eye. Turns out, and we discovered this en route while we dodged horses and cows with horns, that the cliffs were riddled with caves.









We learned later that these caves go back as far as the Maccabean Rebellion which pre-dates Jesus by over 150 years!

I read this online: Josephus relates that Marc Antony had sent Herod to suppress a rebellion by the Jews (this is 37 B.C.) from Arbel "lurking in caves...opening up onto mountain precipices [that] were inaccessible from any quarter, except by some tortuous and extremely narrow paths leading up to them; the cliff in front of them dropped sheer down..." (Josephus, War 1:305, 310).




It was easy to imagine Jesus and his disciples sheltering out here. Heck, I wanted to shelter out there. Had I known they were there I would have kissed my bed at Nos Ginosar good-bye.





The only bummer was Lia wasn't there. Fortunately, we ended up with an extra 90 minutes in our morning schedule, and I twisted the tour group's arms into going back.





It was a quick, hot, strenuous hike. But it made the Coke at the end all the better.