in the middle east

Christians have been coming to Jerusalem to remember the events surrounding Jesus' passion week for over 1,700 years, and last week, Jessica and I had the privilege of participating in this ancient tradition. Because the church we've attended this year (Lutheran Church of the Redeemer) is in the middle of the old city, we were right in the heart of things all week long. And to make it even more special, an old friend from Portland days, Nate Meenan, has been with us and added to the fun, new experiences. Holy Week began with the Palm Sunday procession on April 1. A procession of thousands of Christians from around the world retraces Jesus' path from Bethpage and Bethany on the East side of the Mt. of Olives, over the Mt., down the Kidron Valley, and into Jerusalem's eastern gate (see Mark 11.1-11). This was thrilling. There were songs and shouts of "Hosanna" in every language you could think of as we walked from Bethpage to Jerusalem. People celebrated and waved palm leaves. The streets are pretty narrow, and were totally packed with people. As you can imagine, it was an amazing scene. The next event was four days later, Maundy Thursday ('Maundy' is from Latin 'command', derived from Jesus' words in John 13.34), commemorating Jesus' Passover meal with the disciples the night before his betrayal (Mark 14.12-25). We met at our church for a Communion service and read the gospel narrative, and then just as Jesus and the disciples sang songs and went to the Garden of Gethsemane at the foot of the Mt. of Olives, so did we: we sang songs along the half-hour walk to Gethsemane where we read the narratives of Jesus' horrifying night in the Garden (Mark 14.33-52). The next morning at 6:30am, our church met again to walk the Via Dolorosa and retrace Jesus' steps from Pilate's quarters to Golgotha. This was also amazing: there were hundreds of people walking the narrow streets of Jerusalem doing the same thing: praying and singing in every language, carrying crosses. There were eastern Europeans, Palestinians, American, Koreans, Russians, and more. I have never felt so part of the international body of Christ before; if one could look past the tourist shops and distracted people, there was a powerful movement of the unified people of Jesus taking place as we reflected and remembered his road of suffering. It was very cool.
To cap it all off, our church held a sunrise service on Easter morning on the East side of the Mt. of Olives, where one can look East all the way to the Dead Sea (on a clear day, that is). We got ogether, retold the resurrection narratives, sang songs, took communion. As if on cue, the sun rose above the clouds just as we finished.
It was truly a privilege to experience the tradition of Holy Week here in Jerusalem. To see some pics and a video, Click Here.