Thursday, September 25, 2008

Sunrise at the Wadi Qelt

5:30AM-That morning we were asked to have breakfast between 5 and 5:30 AM so we could be on the road before sunrise. Jim and I had set our clocks wrong and jumped up two hours early; after we munched a pita bread and cheese and drank a quick cup of coffee, we napped on the bus. There were 25 of us, but the group was quiet on the bus. We were told to bring our prayer books, our hats, and water and to wear good walking shoes. The bus parked along side the road, and we started the walk up a rocky hill, covered with loose stones and bigger rocks. We reached the top of the hill to see over into a valley, dropping down steeply below. We walked along the edge of a steep ravine; I had my hand on Jim’s shoulder in front of me as we walked the narrow path. It was steep and I felt the fear that I could plunge over the edge. I kept my head down and my eyes on the rocky path in front of me until we reached the level spot on a point, looking over to the place where Jesus might have sat in his time of temptation. We were there to feel the presence of Christ.

Iyad, our guide, said quietly, “I know some of you had to deal with fear as you came here. It is good sometimes to have fear. Now we will share our morning prayers and then we will be silent. We have forty-five minutes and the Bedouins will come.” We read our morning prayer together and then there was quiet, each of us finding a place to sit or stand apart from each other.

6:30AM-The sun rose orange over the edge of the hills. All around were cream colored hills, rolling like waves into the desert. The silence was complete. There was no noise from any city, planes, music, humans, only the occasional rock fall over the edge of the hillside, bouncing down the side of the cliff. No birds sang; no animal cried out. The silence was like a wave on my ears, allowing me to hear my heart beat. The hills were lined with paths made by sheep or goats, crisscrossing the steep edges. Small rust colored bushes dotted the hills, and only in the deep valley did we see a few green trees, scrubby blotches on the golden expanse below. The breeze turned cool, waiting for the noon day heat of 100 degrees or higher. The silence was a gift after the chatter of our voices. I was glad I over came the fear to be there on the mountaintop to begin one of our last days in the Holy Land.

7:45 AM-I sat and prayed for our group, for our church, for my friends and for myself. I looked at the hillside and thought about the trip and what it had meant to me. Each day was a revelation of some ancient truth about Christ and this land. The group had spread out around me, as we watched the sun rise higher and higher in the sky. We were silent.
Then, I heard a strange, low animal rumble, growing louder and deeper. I turned and looked behind me. There on the hillside was a camel and the Bedouins. They had arrived so quietly, we had not heard them. They were sitting above us on the hillside, watching and waiting for our silent time to finish so they could offer us camel rides. The Arab boys had come, too, with their donkeys. A one armed Bedouin held bone necklaces over his arm, selling them for $10. Another sold scarves, traditional Arab head pieces for men. We all burst into laughter, and picked our way back along the edge to get back on the bus. We bought necklaces, head scarves and other souvenirs, jolted back into the 21 Century, and away from our visit waiting on the hillside with Christ.
It was a morning to remember, thinking about Jesus in that landscape and knowing his isolation on his hillside. It was one of many mornings when I saw Him as a man, walking the hillsides and valleys of his birthplace. It was a reminder that I should go apart from others now and then and wait for the silence before the Bedouins of my life activities arrive to distract me from His presence.

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