Psalm 100

After a two-page post, this will be short. I promise.

I haven’t seen anything like the landscape I’ve seen here: - hazy backdrops that look like a green screen; deep valleys; huge, desert mountains that seem to never end; a 500+ year old city wall outside my window; ancient, ornate churches. They list could go on.

On top of all that, I’m in Israel- the place where most all the Biblical narrative took place. I can see and touch things I might never have the opportunity to see and touch and taste and hear again. And not only do I get to see it, I get to actually learn about and know what things are that I would otherwise only appreciated from a distance. I get to go to school and take classes on it. This may show my nerdiness more than I hope, but I get to learn both Greek and Hebrew languages over here so I can see things in a text that I would never have seen in just the English. I get to dive into the original language the David, or Moses, or Paul wrote in. I get pretty hyped about that.

All this to say, the past couple week I’ve had some pretty insatiable longings after God. That might not be the right way to put it. The psalmist says, “As the deer pants for the water. Or Brother Lawrence explains “delicious thoughts about the Lord.” I understood these strange

descriptions a little more this past week, and the root of it I think was God creating in me a thankful heart. I’m traditionally fairly pessimistic (I like to think realist) but God overwhelmed me this week. He’s filled me with some passionate, deep longings of thankfulness and praise for this opportunity. So with another quick shout out to mom and dad, that is all.

Incredibly Thankful,
Sos

A Night in Tel Aviv

This post will be like any other up to date. One, it’s a joint blog. Danny and I (Sos) have come together to describe this event. Two, there is no spiritual or moral lesson/connection. This is simply the true story of two guys who bought a one-way ticket to Tel Aviv, ended up at a Middle Eastern rave, lost all their money, had no way of getting back, and lived to tell about it. Now to begin….

It’s funny how you wake up in the morning, not knowing what the day holds. But I think if we knew what the day of February 11^th held, we would have gone back to bed.We knew about a Matisyahu concert a couple weeks ago, but like typical college boys, we didn’t really make a plan. We thought it would be cool- we mentioned it a few times in passing- and that was that. Then Thursday afternoon rolled around and I asked Danny, in the break of my Hebrew class around 1:30, if we were going to go. I told him to check into it- and in typical Danny fashion- I found him on the internet with nothing done when I returned around 2:30. So, then the race began. We tried to look up bus/train tickets for about an hour and a half. The real difficult part was trying to find the details of the concert when all the websites were in Hebrew. And the concert venue was virtually unknown to Google- as well as everything else concerning the logistics. So I was fed up eventually and said, let’s just get on a bus to Tel Aviv and we’ll figure it out from there. Now Tel Aviv is a major Israel metropolis about an hour and a half from Jerusalem. Our only knowledge of the city was from 30,000 feet as we flew over it. But unflinchingly, with no knowledge of where this place was, or common sense, we departed with no plan of a way back. Our tip of the day (for p90x-er’s) was “Stop thinking, start making moves.”

After a number of connecting bus rides, we arrived in Tel Aviv at the central bus station. No harm done. Now the hard part- finding where the heck this place was. We asked information at the bus station where a concert place called “Trade Fair Center” might be. They had no clue, but they did know where a place that might have concerts- just take bus 70. Unswervingly, I went for it. I was the move maker. Upon getting outside, Danny thought for a second.“Wait, do we really want to get on a bus to where a concert might be in the city of Tel Aviv- or should we get more clarification?” So we returned to information, and bought a map. And the first thing we saw was the Fair Trade Center- nowhere near bus 70’s route. So we changed routes to bus 28. After passing strip clubs, bars, and soldiers with automatic weapons, we safely arrived at the Fair Trade Center- to an empty house. We thought we had the wrong place, but it turns out we were the first one’s there at 6- thinking the start time was 7. The concert started at 12:30.

Consequently, we were the first in line to buy tickets. Approaching the ticket counter, we planned on two tickets costing 400 shekels (as found in the vague details of the internet). In actuality, the two ticket were 519 shekels- we had 520 shekels combined. We made our moves, and thought later. We were left with 1 shekel, and no plan or money to get back to Jerusalem. After this move, we waited for 5 hours for the concert to start. During this time, we had a moment to think and consider of the implications of our actions, we found out Matisyahu was not the main act- Infected Mushroom was (a hard-core, Middle-Eastern, rock-rap-trance-techno group). Counting our losses, we entered and made camp front row, center stage. As the concert began, so did the mosh pit. Much to our surprise, it was a techno rave, complete with DJ, glow sticks, and shirtless men. We never thought we’d have this experience, but here we were- living it. After the DJ did his thing for 2 hours (no fabrication), at 12:30 Infected Mushroom took the stage. At this, the party reached a new level. Now, I (Sos) was dry humped and jostled for position by stoned middle school boys who had never used deordorant and blew smoke in my face all night. On top of this, the mosh pit came together trapping us against the front wall of the stage. Then, a beam of light shone upon us as Matisyahu took the stage for a total of four songs during the middle of the concert- which interrupted the base-pumping, loud, terrible music. Instantly, we thought all these light, momentary afflictions did not compare with listening to the surpassing greatness of Matisyahu. Then he exited the stage, along with the pleasures of his Jewish, reggae melodies, and slowly the base starting bumping, the screws of Infected Mushroom’s sound grew louder, taking us back to reality. (Their songs consisted of one sentence repeated over and over and over and over). And we were bamboozled.

Next, we clawed our way through thousands of screaming fans and out the exit- shocked at the brevity of Matisyahu’s appearance. It was during this time (3:30 am) that we realized the bus system had shut down for the night- not that we had money for a bus ticket in the first place. After checking in futility for an ATM, we started walking towards the central bus station of Tel Aviv, miles away from the concert venue. But we did buy a map, so all was not in vain. We walked one block, and out of nowhere, two angelic train-station security guards came up and asked if we were lost. I do not know why they stopped. We did not wave them down; furthermore we were a couple college students right next to the campus of Tel Aviv University; but obviously something gave our desperate situation away. They flew in for the rescue. After discussing our lot, they offered to take us to the bus station. Now our mom’s told us never to get in the car with strangers, but we proceeded- figuring Arabs were safer than Americans. Upon arrival, we watched the last bus to Jerusalem pull out of the station. The next one to leave- 6:30. The guy then took us to the train station and personally escorted us to everything we need- tickets, ATM, everything. We got tickets on the 5:45 train to Jerusalem- not knowing where we’d end up in Jerusalem. But we at least we were headed in the right direction. And remember the tip of the day- “make moves, think later.”

We arrived in Jerusalem promptly at 7:30- on the complete opposite side of Jerusalem. After getting directions from a couple Arab friends, we got on a bus back to Mount Zion and walked in just in time for 8 AM breakfast at Jerusalem University College- if only the other students knew the night we just had.

Partied Out,

Danny and Sos

At 5 AM in the train station

Help Comes from the North - Psalm 121

First of all, our room is not cold. You folks back home are suffering through blizzards with negative temperatures, and Sos complains every time a cool breeze drops the temperature below 60.

Anyways, the first day I was here, I wondered around the Old City eventually ending up at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. I spent about an hour exploring the Church, amazed by all I saw, but at the same time, clueless as to what I was actually looking at. It wasn’t until we visited the Church during our first field study that I began to peal back the layers of biblical and historical significance.

During another field study (which usually last 11 hours – sun up to sun down) last Sunday, my eyes began opening to the never ending wonders of Jerusalem. There were so many times when our class would pause at a portion of the wall, a tunnel, or a pile of rubble, all I saw was a portion of the wall, a tunnel, or a pile of rubble. But as our professor began to explain the site, a wave of biblical weightiness would come crashing over me until I could hardly believe the place where I was standing. It happened again and again as we moved from site to site; I could hardly stand it. My heart began racing as my imagination filled with thoughts of David seeing Bathsheba on the roof, Hezekiah building his wall, a trumpet blast sounding Shabbat from the temple, Jesus healing the cripple by the pool, Solomon walking in the King’s garden, Jew singing the songs of ascent, Rabbi’s teaching there disciples on the temple steps, and the Sadducees administering the ritual baths. Though they remained silent, these places came alive, and I could hear their voices testifying to the things past.

One of my greatest moments of the day came at sunrise, standing on the North end of the City of David. Looking out over the geography surrounding this small part of Jerusalem, chills shivered up my spine as one of my classmates read Psalm 121. It has always been one of my favorite Psalms, one that I prayed before all of my soccer games last fall (in the most non-ritualistic, un-superstitious way possible). But standing there in the City of David, it was like hearing that Psalm for the first time. I felt as though I was peering over the Psalmists shoulder as he penned those words in the palace of the king. I scanned the horizon as my classmate read, “I lift my eyes unto the hills, where does my help come from, my help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.” I saw tight hills and valleys coming up over the city like tempest waves crashing over the sides of a ship; I realized that the only way an attacker could enter the city was from the North. The only obstacle for the enemies of Israel was the temple of Yahweh, which stood like a fortress at the North end of the city. Conveying to all of Israel that Yahweh is literally their strength and their shield; and to their enemies that if they want to get into the city, they will have to go through Yahweh first.

The LORD is my keeper (and Alex is my back-up keeper),
Danny

Living Sacrifice

Our room is colder than it is outside. I don’t know how that’s possible, but it’s true. The hallway is warmer than our room. I also don’t know how that is possible.

Anyway, this next one is similar to my last one. It’s about walking around the exact places Jesus walked and imagining myself there. It happened when we were walking around and checking out the stairs just outside the Second Temple. There are 15 steps ascending to the three-dome entrance- one small step, one big step- 15 times. You don’t rush up these stairs. It’s believed that you would one Psalm of Ascent for each stair you went up (120-134).

Before entering the Temple, a Jew would have to cleanse himself in a 40-gallon tub of water to signify that he is ritually pure. These stairs were the community hot spot- it was the hangout. (I imagine SFO for those of you reading and remembering those days.) It’s where people met up and talked. It was where Rabbi’s taught and people were heard. As I walking up those steps, I imagined ascending in Jesus’ posse reciting the Psalms. As I got up the top though and saw the three pillar entrance now closed up, and thought of something. I wouldn’t have been able to enter the Temple then anyway. I wouldn’t have been in Jesus’ posse. I’m a Gentile; a non-Jew; a foreigner. I would have sat on those steps watching. That is the role I would have played.

Then I realized the radically, earth-shattering implications of Jesus coming and inviting us into worship and opening the Temple to everybody. 2,000 years ago, most, if not all of us, would be left outside to observe. But with Christ’s death, the Temple was torn (which I’ll talk about next time actually). We are free to have communion with the Triune, Creator God of the universe. If we do offer sacrifices in the new Temple at new creation (Ezekiel 40-48), we Gentiles will be invited in.

I never appreciated this aspect of Jesus’ coming. I stress personal relationship and communion, without ever realizing or noticing the basis or establishment that makes that relationship possible. For now, we can offer our bodies as living sacrifices (Romans 12.1-2). We are invited into that. And for that I thank God in Christ that the Temple is torn and we can all gather around to praise, honor, and worship the one true God- man or women, slave or free, Jew or Gentile.

Excited for sacrifice,
Sos

Jesus and the Blind Man

There's way too much that goes on here for me to post a "short" message once a week. Really, I could write something everyday, but I'm in college and have to write papers, so give me a break. But I will change it to twice a week, for my sake, and so you don't have to read a book every time you check the page.

Today was the first day I really knew I was seeing something very similar, or identical to what Jesus saw or experienced. I saw two things, but only one I'll mention ion detail (more on the other later). We were able to see the steps leading to the Pool of Siloam mentioned in John 9. After last week, I did not think there was anything so close to Jesus’ ministry yet excavated. It was fascinating to actually be there and awakened a compelling sense of excitement and enthusiasm. Specifically, my imagination was awakened to the blind man's reaction after Jesus told him to go wash in the pool. The saliva is mixed with mud and put into the eyes of the man, which I can only describe as disgusting. That’s way too close to my personal space with something like that. My reaction would have been different at first. (But, of course, that is with a lack of first century history knowledge. I just imagine that never being okay with me.) But I imagined after hearing Jesus’ words a power coming over the man. Maybe his eyes are first seeing a light he’s never seen. Next, maybe slits of images start to appear as he picks up speed down the steps. I can only imagine his excitement growing and growing until he reaches the bottom of this huge staircase and jumps into the pool to wash over, and inevitably can finally see. The excitement and joy this must have brought this man was almost unimaginable at this point. But I got to walk up and down those steps. I got to see at least some of the structure that was there as he ran, or walked down. And with this vision, I was able to feel some of what he felt, and hear what he must have heard- some of the words of discouragement, some of the disbelief, some of the skepticism, some of others excitement. And I picture Jesus looking down seeing this whole picture- author of it all- looking at everyone’s reaction, and especially at this man’s building of slow, gradual, but elated joy. I feel Jesus’ bit of satisfaction of doing the Father’s will and obeying His mission- and thus seeing life change in people. And then I see him turning and going on to the next task to bring His Father glory.
All of this description only with a few layers of steps and a small, dirty pool of water in a valley. I’m not saying I’m all there yet, but it’s building and with that I’m excited about knowing more and developing a fuller view of Biblical Israel.

One more prayer request to end: Just keep praying of deeper and deeper times of fellowship and intimacy with the Lord. I think I know it's going good because layers of my sin keep getting peeled back further and further so the wretched man I am, and thus appreciate the grace, mercy, and power of Jesus more and more. Thanks for your prayers, and keep 'em coming!

Blessed for this experience (shout-out to Mom and Dad),
Sos

I Think I Found One of Jesus' Footprints

First, I'd like to mention that Sos will lie about anything to get attention, so don't believe all the sensational claims he makes on this blog. Second, like Sos, I'd like to give you my initial reaction to being in the land. When I first saw it, from a plane at about 30,000ft, I couldn't believe how lush and green everything was. It's no surprise that God chose this place for his people. The more you learn about the geography, the more it makes sense. This is truly a prosperous and blessed place, with all the terrain of California squished into an area the size of New Jersey.


After my first day in Israel, all the mental images I had of the holy land where flipped upside down. I was so excited to walk where Jesus walked, and experience the culture in which he lived. But the culture has changed and the ground he walked on is buried beneath layers of sediment. Sos and I both quickly realized that the city we see before us is vastly different from the city of the first century. Two-Thousands of years of fighting and three major world religions have buried most of first century Jerusalem under our feet. But though the buildings, city structure, and people, have changed in the last two thousand years, something about this place will always remain constant. There is something about Jerusalem that cannot be destroyed.


As Dr. Paul Wright (one of our profs) took us through the old city, the phrase in Ecclesiastes “there is nothing new under the sun” kept popping into my head. There is nothing new before me today. All truth is old truth; as old as time. My first instinct was to say that this Jerusalem was so different from Jesus’ Jerusalem, but as Dr. Wright lectured I realized that nothing has changed. It takes many different forms today, but ultimately they are all the same. Jesus may not have struggled with the Muslims, but he did struggle with the Romans. He did not fear death by suicide bomber, but he was executed like a common criminal. It's true that the conflict of this land is an ancient conflict. How ancient? I'd say it's as old as humanity. Jerusalem is a picture of mankind, and of the war being fought within every human soul. The surface of this place has changed, but its essence has remained untouched. “There is nothing new under the sun”; the roots of Israel’s ancient struggle are as old as humanity itself.


This mysterious component of the human soul binds Jerusalem’s past to its present. It is difficult to define, but if you walk the streets of the old city, you will feel it. The nature of this city is timeless and lasting; no amount of fighting or politics can destroy it. This land lives and breathes and if your mind is still and your senses are open, you will feel this place living and breathing inside of you. This place is mystical and weighty, and once you get in tune with the rhythms of this land, you can feel it beating inside you; because the soul of the holy land is the human soul.

Danny

Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty

So it’s almost been a week I’ve been here. Danny and I are adjusting to being roommates. My highlight was teaching him how to read military time- which he claimed he knew how. That was…. Incredible. We’re also right next to a pretty cool cemetery that has this terrace overlooking the new city. We went in there to check things out, and then got locked in there. I don’t how many of you have ever got locked into a cemetery before, but that sucked. We actually only had to stay there a little bit and then an Armenian priest came and let us out.

So a lot has happened so far, but it seems like a small amount compared to all that there is to see. The first week was overwhelming. There’s the typical semester of course work thrown at you which is enough in itself; but on top of that we have all the sights of the Holy Land to see. At the top of this list is the debate to go to Greece or Egypt for the week we get off for Easter. So many decisions!

Oh, and by the way, if you ever get the chance to stand looking over Jerusalem and listen to the Revelation Song, or any other Christ-centered, God exalting real worship music, I’d recommend it. I sobbed like a baby thinking of God gathering all His people in these hills and worshipping the Great Creator God shining like 12 suns in the new creation. But that’s just a suggestion if/when you come here.

But I just want to give one reaction of Jerusalem that I had. It has to do with what I anticipated and what I experienced. I came in wondering if I was going to see the same things as Jesus, or something completely different. Were these the same streets? Were the buildings this high? What was different? Was there anything similar? How old are the walls? Were they at least in the same place in Jesus’ time? What was the city structure like? Was I going to run through trails of forest and trees and mountainside? Would I look at the same wilderness and hills Jesus saw? I was hoping to experience some magical, mystical awakening to be honest. Much to my chagrin, all I got was an overpopulated, scrunched, crowded city. But with this realization, I finally had the correct expectations that enabled me to see the land clearer. The streets Jesus walked were nothing like the ones I am walking. They are about 20 feet beneath me and not in the same system and structure. I came in expecting grandeur and majesty of an ancient city preserved- what I got was an ancient city destroyed again and again and put back together again and again. What was wrong was not the city, but with how I viewed it. With a right vision, I could imagine the city better. My imagination was awakened. I could appreciate that where I was walking may not have been Jesus’ exact footprint, but he inhabited these hills. He knew this city. He experienced this in a small degree as I experienced today. There is nothing magical about the land. It did not bring me some special revelation. But this is the landscape God chose to establish His appointed people. He carved these mountains and built up cities for His purposes. He built up the sediment and torn down these cities at His will for the good of those who love Him. In my ignorance, I wish all Jerusalem would vacate to another place, so we can really know and appreciate this city more fully. I want to rebuild a replica of the first century city- the city I was hoping to find. But I figured out that I don’t need to know. I can be content with living in the city that Jesus lived, died, was crucified, raised to heaven, and sent His Spirit to the apostles for 3 ½ months. (Not to mention the Temple, David, Joshua, Elijah, Isaiah, etc etc). Sure, I won’t know exact locations or see exactly what they saw or experience exactly what they experienced. But I get to live in the same city that they lived. I get to experience living in God’s chosen land- a good and broad land flowing with milk and honey.

I'm really trying to make these short. I might have to go to twice a week.

Trying to walk more deeply with Him with you,
Sos