February 29, 2008

Leap Day!

Mount of Olives

 

For non-Middle Easterners, the development of and comfort with an informed religious imagination is imperative for a Scripturally-based religious life. Contextualization of biblical content lends continual insight into the mystical framework that emerged from within the realities of ordinary living in this place. In order to understand, appreciate and internalize images and spirituality of the Biblical tradition spanning at least 5000 years of religious history (most of which can seem foreign to post-Enlightenment humans), we must “crawl into the skin” of the ancient spiritual ancestors. There, uncompromised fortitude in spiritual, pastoral and religious accountability is revealed. These ancient spiritual ancestors were innovative in their approaches to faith, persistent in communicating with a God who was sometimes the Holy Pursuer and sometimes the subject of less-than-holy pursuits. Whatever the tale spun and cast before the reader, God functions through the convergent ecology, cultures, languages, and geography in this region of the world.   

 

When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook a sheaf there, you shall not go back to get it; let it be for the alien, the orphan or the widow, that the Lord your God may bless you in all your undertakings. When you knock down the fruit of your olive trees, you shall not go over the branches a second time; let what remains be for the alien, orphan and the widow. When you pick your grapes, you shall not go over the branches a second time; let what remains be for the alien, the orphan and the widow. For remember that you were once slaves in Egypt; that is why I command you to observe this rule. (Deut. 24:19-22)

 

Harvesting olives is not easy work. In the Middle East, harvesting olives is managed by developing a rhythm of beating the vines with sticks, shaking the vines to release the olives, and collecting them by hand. The more ripe the olive, the more they tend to bruise during this process. Some have said harvesting olives is an agricultural art because it requires a good sense of timing, strength, perseverance, and the right temperament to know when enough is enough.    

 

Local biblical tradition favors the olive tree as central to religious symbolism that functions in the minds and hearts because of its influence on regional spiritual, economic, political, and religious realities. This reflection from Deuteronomy is one of many references to olive trees in the Scriptures. Various passages work together to form a coherent symbol running throughout the Hebrew and Christian Testaments. In fact, the olive tree becomes a quintessential image of the “Church grafted onto the roots of Judaism.”  

 

Life expectancy of olive trees is about five hundred years, however, some trees in this area have been dated to eight hundred years. The thick, gnarly trunk and branches are pruned regularly, to expose the flowing fruit-bearing vines around the whole tree to light. Olive trees never bear fruit in the same place twice, are easily grafted from cuttings, tolerate moderately-saline conditions, and draw water up through deep roots during the rainy season, storing enough for the rest of the year. Remarkable, when considering the limited water supply, intense sun, varying soil conditions and enduring impact of destructive regional wars on the ecology. As an indigenous plant, olive trees have continuously accommodated drought conditions and vicious clear-cutting attacks by humans, passing on their hardiness and stability from one generation to the next.  Olive trees are not overpowering, like a California Redwood. Olive trees are understated in terms of height, looking humans in the eye from beneath their umbrella shaped greenish-gray vines framing their stout stature. Olive trees provide food and keep hillsides of sandy earth from eroding. Ancestral authority oozes from every carved crevice, speaking wisely as a contemporary presence. Uprooted or clear cut olive trees “bring great heartache” and never joy. After living among them for these weeks, it’s apparent that they remain a constant companion to generations, constant witness to regional geologic, geographic, and political transition. If trees could talk!

 

Mountains also function within Biblical tradition. Spiritually, mountains symbolize the empowerment of the human spirit, soaring toward the heavens. Climbing a mountain (or a ladder clinging to the side of a mountain, as in the case of the monastic tradition) helps the spiritual-seeker to gain a mystical sense of ascending in one’s own awareness and self-esteem. Arriving at the top of the mountain manifests deep appreciation for the indwelling God, communicating and self-revealing through the events of one’s life. The climb is not easy, which makes it meaningful to the seeker who realistically knows that any attempt to “touch” the living God, continuously reaching to touch her or him, is indeed blessed. In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus’ gift of the Beatitudes is revealed to those who have made their way up a Galilee mountain and opened themselves to his teaching:

            Blessed are the poor in spirit,

For theirs is the kingdom of heaven

Blessed are they who mourn,

For they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,

For they will inherit the land.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst

For righteousness,

For they will be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful,

For they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are the clean of heart,

For they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you (falsely) because of me. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven. Thus they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

With these words, Jesus commissions the followers to descend from the ecstasy of encountering God on the mountain back to the ordinary realm of living, abiding in the certainty of God’s blessing. Mountains figure prominently in biblical tradition!

 

The Mount of Olives overlooks the Kidron Valley. Jesus made his last journey up this mountain from this valley. On a beautiful Jerusalem morning, we made our way up this same mountain path, stopping at various commemorative sites. First stop, a commemorative chapel now under the auspices of the Franciscans. Several different stories are told about the significance of this place. One tradition says that Mary and Martha met up with Jesus to tell him about Lazarus’ death. Another tradition says that this is where Jesus climbed onto the back of the donkey to make the journey into the Old City. John’s gospel says that the crowds waved palms as he passed, but local custom suggests that olive branches were more likely used. (JN 12:12-15) A solid rock which legend holds as the one Jesus used to climb onto the donkey was preserved by the Crusaders who built a church around it. This was later replaced by another church which still stands today, the Sanctuary of Bethphage. In the 1930’s, the Franciscans were allowed to return for Palm Sunday celebrations. Today, they have used the land around the Church (in their custody) to build affordable low-cost housing for local Christians. They have an active and respected ministry of outreach to the small and isolated Christian community of Jerusalem.

 

Matthew’s gospel has Jesus sending two disciples with these instructions: “Go into the village straight ahead of you and you will immediately find an ass tethered and her colt with her. Untie them and lead them back to me. If anyone says a word to you, say, ‘The Master needs them.’ Then they will let them go at once.” (MT 21:1-11) Walking up, it is easy to turn and see the village straight ahead.

 

Walking on, and up, we arrived at the Mosque of the Ascension. This place, now in the custody of the Muslims, commemorates the Ascension of Christ. (The site of a cave at the current location of the Church of Pater Noster was most likely the original site commemorating this event.) Luke’s gospel (24:50) identifies Bethany as the place of the Ascension.

Then he led them out as far as Bethany, raised his hands, and blessed them. As he blessed them he parted from them and was taken up to heaven.

A fourth century church was built on this spot approaching the top of the Mount of Olives by a Roman aristocrat, Poimenia, memorable historically for her eccentric rather than prayerful ways. Poimenia’s trip took her from Rome through Egypt along the Nile, into Alexandria, and on to Jerusalem, seeking the advice of holy hermits and bishops. Martha Ann Kirk writes, “The trip seems to have been more than prayerful devotion. Arriving in Alexandria in her own ships, she then hired a fleet of local boats to take her upriver. Her attendants included bishops, priests, eunuchs, and Moorish slaves.” Using her vast access to resources, she built a church around what local legend claimed to be the “last footprint of Christ” on earth. Today, the church is gone and a small mosque stands in its place, hovering over a well-worn “footprint” rock touched by millions of pilgrims.

  

Walking on and up, we arrived at one of the highlights of the trip, enjoying a prayerful pause at Church of Pater Noster or Church of Eleona (Church of Olive Grove). Legend holds that Jesus was partial to praying in this area, having come here to pray frequently both alone and with followers. Some believe that a cave at this site was possibly the place of the Ascension, but after the location commemorating this event was moved to its current location at the Mosque of the Ascension, this place has commemorated the Ascension. (Middle-Eastern mindset challenges the Western tendency to want to say, “yes, but where is the REAL spot?”) For centuries this location commemorates the place where Jesus taught the disciples to pray the Our Father. The prayer is written in eighty languages including English, Cherokee, Quechua, Hebrew and Arabic on beautiful mosaic plaques which hang distinctively throughout an open, simple courtyard and in the quaint little chapel. Catholic Carmelite Sisters are now the caretakers of this remarkably prayerful monastic center. In the mid-1800’s a French woman, Princesse de la Tour d’Auvergene, living and working in Jerusalem, used her substantial means to have the site excavated and renovated. Earliest forms of adult rite of Christian initiation and mystagogia (the period of time immediately following reception of the sacraments of initiation during which the neophyte Christian takes on the sacramental lifestyle with newly acquired grace and continues exploring matters of faith) seem to have taken place at or near this location.   

 

Continuing up the Mount of Olives, the oldest continuously used Jewish cemetery in the world, badly damaged during the Jordanian occupation, awaited. Pausing here, we remember the lives of those who were faithfully companioned by YHWH and now rest in rows, marked by very simple ossuary-size stones. It’s appropriate that the next stop is Dominus Flevit Chapel (meaning “Jesus Wept”), a modern-day teardrop-shaped chapel with one of the most spectacular views of Jerusalem. The chapel was built in 1953 over fifth century ruins.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! (LK 13:34)

In this passage from Luke’s gospel, Jesus uses this powerful image of God as a Mother Hen, trying to care for her baby chicks, too restless and curious and lacking in wisdom to be taken under the wing of motherly care. A lovely mosaic of a mother hen gathering her chicks adorns the interior wall of this simple, yet powerful place of architectural and spiritual synergy.

 

Traveling through a narrow walkway (sometimes-taxiway), we came to the Russian Orthodox Church of St. Mary Magdalene, remarkable for its seven golden onion domes. Czar Nicholas III built this church for his mother, whose name was Maria, in the 17^th century. The church is impressive for its collection of icons and shares a portion of the Garden of Gethsemane.

 

Mary Magdalene’s prominence in Christian history cannot be diminished. Most remarkably, she is the person attending to the details of Jesus’ burial on the morning of his resurrection.

Mary stayed outside the tomb weeping. And as she wept, she bent over into the tomb and saw two angels in white sitting there, one at the head and one at the feet where the body of Jesus had been.

 

And they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken my Lord and I don’t know where they laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus there, but did not know it was Jesus.

 

Jesus said to her, “Women why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” She thought it was the gardener and said to him, “Sir, if you carried him away, tell me where you laid him and I will take him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni,” which means Teacher.

 

Jesus said to her, “Stop holding me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I’m going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God. Mary went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord!” (JN 20:11-18)

 

So here, at this stop, we are reminded of the woman who wept over Jesus’ tomb in Jerusalem. Faithfully, she remained through the critical hours of Jesus’ journey to the cross and sought to make sure that his proper Jewish burial was complete. Instead of finding the dead body, she encounters the risen Christ. Hundreds of books have been written about the mysterious nature of Mary’s encounter with Jesus. Why does she not initially recognize him? Did he have his back to her? Was he still wrapped in the traditional burial shroud? Was he transformed in such a way that he no longer resembled his human self? It is easy to imagine that in the shock of loss, one might not recognize an otherwise familiar companion. It is also quite possible that Mary simply expected a gardener.

 

Jesus wept over Jerusalem and Mary wept over the tomb of Jesus. For both, God’s fidelity shone through their human despair somewhere on this mountain. Jesus, raised from the dead, intimately knew the mercy and compassion of the Living God. Mary, still a mere grieving mortal, had nothing but the integrity of her own faith with which to cling. Holding on to Jesus for a time would be a consolation. But quickly (more quickly than I think I might have “gotten it”) she realized in Christ’s shocking command, “stop holding me for I have not yet ascended to the Father,” that the Good News of Christ’s resurrection would absorb all the tears, all the suffering, all the injustice, all the trauma of Jerusalem and beyond. Christian spirituality inspires us to see that she had to let go so the process of resurrection could continue for all—it was not a “private” matter—it was thee universal matter upon which all else depended.

 

Theological innovation, of course, is very important in John’s gospel (as it was for all of the gospels) and in this short post, it is impossible to delve deeply into the creative reasons why the author of the fourth gospel might have been compelled to reveal this intimate and complex moment in the relationship between Mary Magdalene and Jesus. (There is a good course, however, being offered next Fall—REL 325—that will take up the question in detail! Shameless advertising…)

 

The Church of All Nations, built after World War I, eerily and gently Jesus welcomes pilgrims, extending an invitation to enter into peace with all nations. An impressive gold and red façade welcomes pilgrims entering the church. An interesting aspect of the Church is that lighting on the inside is intentionally darkened so that there is never a hint of daylight. To my delight, on this day a group of pilgrims from Mexico is celebrating Mass in Spanish. The highlight of this stop, perhaps, is the Rock of Agony located in the Garden of Gethsemane, where “Jesus sweat blood.” (LK 22:44) Here, Jesus spent his last night praying in the Garden. Intimate and peaceful, some of the oldest olive trees in Jerusalem are found here.

 

Pilgrimage to Mount of Olives reveals the enduring Spirit that sustains the hope all Christians share that in our suffering and dying, we come to the darkest place of living from which the power of God’s care erupts into new life. The old, gnarled olive trees themselves are transforming, each revealing patient endurance, quiet presence, deep roots, and stout ordinariness on this modest mountain. A day of visiting commemorative places such as these is an important way of “remembering” the heart of Christian faith, resting in the antiquity of geography while infusing life and energy into the soul of the world.