"Have you entered the storehouses of snow?"

In the ancient Hebrew worldview, cosmic waters surrounded the whole earth, and the only thing they kept these waters from covering over the land was a great firmament hammered out by God to keep the waters at bay.

(If you'll indulge me a moment of etymology: the word "firmament" has become a common way to translate Gen 1:6, but what is a "firmament"? It comes from the word firmamentum that St. Jerome made up for the Hebrew word raqia in his Latin Vulgate translation of the Bible, and it simply means something that is firm. But the Hebrew word raqia literally means "that which is hammered out." Unfortunately, this detail and the wonderful image of God hammering out the heavens get lost in the undescriptive "firmament," but that's the way it goes in translation.

Well, I'm glad I got that off my chest...)

When the ancients looked up they saw sky, and on top of the sky was the "firmament" and beyond it were the cosmic waters. The rain came whenever God opened enormous sluices in the firmament and let the waters pour down on the earth.

I mention all this because this morning the storehouses of cosmic waters were on my mind; somewhere up there God also keeps storehouses of snow -- at least that's what he told Job in chapter 38, verse 22 -- and today he opened the snow sluices over the Holy Land.

Yes, snow has arrived in Jerusalem. I cannot say that I participated in snow angels or snowmen, but I did have my photograph taken along with the snow. Fortunately, this did not require me to leave the comforts of my room at the Albright, as you'll see in these photographs, in which it looks like at any moment I might break into "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina":

Thankfully, I refrained from any Evita numbers, and although I'm not a huge fan of winter weather, I must say that it was pretty cool to look out this morning and see the heavy flakes falling outside my window. Now if it'll just melt before I have to walk to HUC tomorrow!

Midnight Mass, the Orthodox Way

This past Saturday evening, my friend Ivan stopped by my room. He is an Orthodox Christian from Bulgaria and told me that an Orthodox archbishop, named Eulogios, was visiting Jerusalem and would be celebrating a mass that evening. "What time?" I asked. "Well," said Ivan, "The chanting will begin at midnight, but the service itself not until 1 am." When I asked him why so late, he explained that midnight to 3 am is the timeslot for the Orthodox to hold liturgies in front of the sepulcher itself. As you may remember from the visit Emily and I made to the church, it is divided among various religious groups, and the interior of the tomb is divided among the Eastern Orthodox, the Roman Catholic and the Armenian Apostolic, each with a different time slot for liturgies at the tomb. Ivan was explaining this to me at 9 pm and then said: "I shall sleep now and you wake me up at midnight and we will go." I agreed.

A little after midnight we were walking down a deserted Nablus Road, through the Damascus Gate and into the Old City. What a change from the day! It was eerily empty without the people herding through and merchandise spilling out of shops. Here's a shot of me with plenty of elbow room for a change:


When we got to the Holy Sepulcher, there were some people gathered around the Stone of Unction at the entrance, but most folks were gathered in the Crusader Chapel in the heart of the church, which sits directly opposite the tomb. Inside this chapel there were three cantors taking turns chanting prayers in Greek. I could not follow them, but according to Ivan the prayers "had something to do with Our Lady."

As we waited for the liturgy to begin, we spoke softly about various things, including why Bulgarians dislike Hillary Clinton: apparently she came as First Lady to Bulgaria and gave a speech that Ivan described as "detestable. It was truly detestable. You cannot imagine." But before I even tried to imagine, the service had started. (Later I was thinking that if Hillary does win in '08, Sofia will not be on the short list for state visits!)

The liturgy began with the procession of Orthodox priests leading forth Archbishop Eulogios, who took his seat in front of the tomb, in which the altar was set up.

What followed was a lot of chanting in various languages (Romanian, Russian, Greek and even some Latin), a lot of candles and lots of going in and out of the tomb. All the while, we the faithful (about a hundred of us) stood by as there were no seats. There was real beauty in the liturgy, and for a time I was very attentive to the richness of its ritual. But as the liturgy approached 2 am, I must say I was getting anxious to wrap things up and get back to the Albright. As much as I tried to remind myself that experiences like these only happen in Jerusalem, my eyelids were getting pretty heavy.

Mercifully, around 2:15 am the bread and wine were consecrated and brought from the tomb into the Crusader Chapel. Neither Ivan nor I had fasted properly, so we did not take communion, but there was some other bread there, the loaves of which had been cut into squares. I never quite understood how this bread fit in the liturgy, but it too required fasting before it could be eaten. Since Ivan had slept the three hours before the service he could eat the bread right then, but he advised me to wait until morning and eat the bread first thing.

Finally, we made our way back through the ghostly Old City, returned to the Albright and were in bed about 3 am. I can't say I'd commit to another late night service of any denomination, but it was a fun to go once, especially with Ivan, who was enthusiastic about the outing. He's leaving for Bulgaria on Thursday, so it was also nice to spend some time with him before he goes home.

When he sent the two pictures he took from our visit to the Holy Sepulcher, he also included this picture of Theophilos III, who is the Orthodox Patriarch of Jerusalem. He wasn't on hand Saturday night, but I thought you might enjoying seeing to head of the Orthodox here in Jerusalem.

Neviim Street (Again) and then the Market

As you may remember from my previous post on the Ethiopian Church, Neviim Street is one of the main east-west arteries across the city and a street I find myself on quite often. Slowly but surely I am discovering the rich history of this street, especially during the early 20th century. It was at the end of the 19th century that the weakened Ottoman Empire began to loosen its grip on the Holy Land, and European countries seized the opportunity for a new presence in Israel. Some of this new presence began here on Neviim Street.

Here is one example: this is the Italian Hospital that was built in the 1910's. The hospital had two wings (only one of them appears in this photo) and a church in the middle and was operational from the end of World War I until the begin of World War II, when Italy found itself on the wrong side of the Allied Forces. The British, who were occupying Jerusalem at that time, kicked out the Italians and turned the hospital into Royal Air Force headquarters. When the war was over, the building changed hands again as the new Israeli state occupied it as a military base. They found the belfry tower, which you see in the picture, particularly useful as a look-out during their war for independence. Now it houses the Israeli Education Ministry.



But it still retains a very Italian flavor, not just in its architecture but also in its decoration. Have a look at this panel from the top of the building's main gate. It features Rome's legendary founder Romulus and his twin brother Remus suckling a she-wolf, a scene that is depicted all over Italy. The other panels consist of Crusader family seals. Interestingly, in the 1980's a mezuzah was affixed to the entrance. In order to fulfill the commandment given in Deut 6:9, Jews have a small scroll inscribed with Deut 6:4-9 and 11:13-21 set inside a case and placed on the "doorpost" (Heb. = mezuzah). These mezuzot are of course found all over Israel and in many Jewish homes throughout the world, but the Italian hospital is unique for being a Christian church building affixed with a mezuzah. I found it to be an interesting intersection of the two faiths.

Just up the street from here is the Tabor House, which was built around 1900 by the Swedish architect and missionary Conrad Schick, and it now serves as the Swedish Theological Seminary. Schick designed the building to look like Mt. Tabor (Emily and I visited Mt. Tabor when she was here), and he made the roof of his house to look like an Israelite altar by fixing horns on its four corners. (You can see one of the horns in the center of the photo.) On the right side of this photo you can see the chapel he built with his house.

Above the main entrance you can see the name "Thabor," and it also cites Psalm 89:12, which was apparently the inspiration for Schick's interest in Mt. Tabor.
Neviim Street ends at Jaffa Street (another street mention in a previous post on my walk to HUC), and if you go just a little farther down Jaffa, you come to the main market in Jerusalem: the Mahane Yehuda. Here is a shot from the inside of the market:
And this is just one street; the market covers several blocks. Here are some more shots:

In this next photo I wanted to point out that the orange, tomato-looking fruit beside this man in the hat is actually persimmon. I don't think people really eat persimmons in the US because they never get big or ripe enough, but here in Israel they are sweet and delicious and a very popular fruit, especially for dessert.

I think the market is probably busy everyday, but Friday (the day I visited) is definitely the busiest as religious Jews stock up for Shabbat the next day. Here is a stand, which was selling challah bread for the upcoming Shabbat.


So that was my Friday morning today. Nothing too exciting, but to my eyes even the ordinary in a city like Jerusalem is pretty interesting!

German Colony

A friend of mine at HUC recommended a weekly tour that the city offers for free on Saturday mornings. Each Saturday they pick a different neighborhood and give its history; this weekend the tour took our small group through the German Colony. Before arriving there, however, our walk took us along some other interesting neighborhoods. For example, here is a picture taken from the Jaffa Gate: in the top right corner you can see the King David Hotel, which I've mentioned before. Directly below it is a very exclusive neighborhood called Kefar David ("Village of David"). These small apartments cost over a million dollars, and only a few of them are owned by Jerusalem residents; in fact most are owned by wealthy Jews from other countries who visit Israel during the high holidays and want somewhere to stay that is in walking distance to the Western Wall. For this reason, Kefar David is an unusually quiet neighborhood during the rest of the year.

To the left of Kefar David you can see another neighborhood set on the hill, and you can just make out a windmill. Here is a closer look:
This neighborhood is called Yemin Moshe, and in 1857 it became the first Jewish neighborhood outside the walls of the Old City. The man behind its creation was Sir Moses (Moshe) Montefiore, who so strongly believed that Jews should work the fields around the Old City that he sponsored the houses as well as the windmill. But he had a hard times convincing those who lived safely within the Old City walls to live here, and in the end he offered the houses for free, and only poor young couples took up his offer. Now, of course, it is one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Jerusalem.
Here is a close-up of the windmill. Behind it you can see the Church and Monastery of the Dormition, which sits atop Mount Zion and in Catholic tradition is venerated as the site where Mary died (Lat. dormitio = "sleep"). I think there'll be a future tour through Yemin Moshe, so hopefully I'll have some more tidbits to pass on later.

Our last stop before the German Colony was at the Lion Fountain. This is one of the only pieces of public art in Jerusalem to depict a specific animal. Because of biblical commandments against representations of humans or animals, the ultra-conservative Jews in the city (the Haredim) oppose such depictions in public spaces. Hence visitors to the city will notice an abundance of abstract art. This fountain is one of the few exceptions.

At last we arrived at the German Colony, which for the most part follows Emek Raphaim Street. It was settled in the last quarter of the 19th century by German Protestants who broke away from the mainstream reformed Protestant churches in Germany. They saw no need for churches or preachers, since they believed each of us carried a temple in our heart. For this reason, they called themselves "templars." (They should not be confused with the Crusader templars several centuries earlier.)

They came to Jerusalem out of religious devotion and a desire to live where Jesus had lived. They were skilled in building techniques and engineering and in a short time had made their small colony an important center of commerce. Here is one of their first buildings, a millhouse which outmoded the Yemin Moshe windmill after the latter had been around for only 25 years or so. Now the millhouse is a private residence.

Here is another characteristic of the houses: they usually have a biblical verse written on the lintel.

Here is a close-up. It says: "The Lord loves the gates of Zion over all of the dwellings of Jacob."

And here is another house with Isaiah 60:1 written on the lintel, where you can also see 1877 as the founding date.

The Germans thrived into the beginning of the 20th century, but at the conclusion of World War I, when the British took control of Jerusalem, they were suspicious of this German enclave. Into the 1930s their suspicions were justified when many of the residents sympathized with the Nazi party beginning to rise in Germany. (These second and third generations of residents did not share their parents' fervent piety.)

The British army eventually loaded the Germans onto boats and sent them off to Australia, when many of them assimilated and stayed. After World War II some of them went back to Germany, and a few came back to Jerusalem. When Israel came into statehood in 1948 they negotiated with the Germans in Australia to buy the properties the latter had been forced to leave. The state of Israel in turn sold the properties, and now most of the buildings are private residences.

Correction!

Perhaps it was the jetlag. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of Nyquil. Or perhaps, as my mom suggested, I was in "Bible mode." Whatever the reason I misspelled the name of the popular English department store: it is "Harrods," not "Herrods" (as in Herod the Great who built the Second Temple in Jerusalem and whose tomb was possibly found last summer).

Apologies to one and all, especially mom, who is a crackerjack proofreader and who concluded her correcting email, "I thought I'd raised you better." She did, of course, but to be fair, mom had the benefit of a four hour shopping visit to Harrods in London, while my dad, brother and I limited our visit to a mere fifteen minutes.

Nonetheless, my New Year's resolution is to redouble my proofreading efforts; I've got a family reputation to uphold!

Article about My Street

There are two daily English newspapers here: the Jerusalem Post and Haaretz ("The Land [of Israel]"). In today's issue of the latter there was a feature article about my street Salah ad-Din. It really captures the colorfulness of the neighborhood, so I thought you may enjoy reading it. Here's the link:

http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/942963.html

Sadly, Kit Kat Koffee was not mentioned. Instead they talked about another coffee shop that imports beans from Brazil and roasts them on site with cardamom. It sounded pretty delicious, and I am thinking of switching my loyalties. We'll see.

Return to Jerusalem

Well after three wonderful weeks in the US, I got back to Israel on Monday, not without a few complications, which I'll mention below. But first about the trip home: Emily and I spent a week in Baltimore, then a week with her family in Syracuse for Christmas and finally a week in Raleigh visiting my family. Besides spending time with loved ones, the holiday break was highlighted by all the basketball games we were able to attend: they included my first visit to the Carrier Dome where the 'Cuse won over Cornell, the N.C. State-Western Carolina game and of course a trip to Chapel Hill where we saw the Heels dominate Kent State. (The Syracuse and UNC tickets were my Christmas present from Emily!) Another highlight was my family's surprise birthday party for me on New Year's Day. It was fun to celebrate at home since I'll be here in Jerusalem for my birthday later this month.

I was scheduled to fly back Saturday night to London, where I'd catch a Sunday morning flight to Tel Aviv, but just before I left Baltimore I got a message that the London to Tel Aviv flight was cancelled. I would have to take the next flight, which meant waiting in Heathrow airport for 14 hours! There's worse airports, I guess; Heathrow has some nice shops. In fact, if my mom were in this situation, I think she could have happily spent all 14 hours in the terminal, especially in Herrod's. As it turned out, I spent the day sleeping at the Heathrow Hilton, compliments of British Airways.

Upon returning to the terminal for my 10:30 pm flight to Tel Aviv I did get around to visiting the shops. One of the other Albright fellows requested that I bring him a bottle of Jim Beam from the duty free. (This same fellow also requested a bottle of Aussie 3 Minute Miracle Deep Conditioner, which Emily was able to find in Kerr Drugs.) I compared the prices at three different shops, and it cost the same at all three. (It later occurred to me that the three shops were actually the same shop in three locations. Apparently, I should have slept longer at the hotel.) As luck would have it, Jim Beam was two-for-one, so even though I don't really drink bourbon and hadn't planned on getting anything for myself, how could I say no to the two-for-one? The only downside to this good fortune was the duty free bags are clear plastic, and I felt a little self-conscious wandering through the terminal with two fifths of Jim Beam clanking beside me, as if I were on my way to some tailgate party.

Finally, I got back to the Albright and just in time for the arrival of a certain other American, namely, our president. Besides the quadrupling of police in the city, the constant helicopters overhead, the closing of half the streets downtown, and the gridlocked traffic all over the city, you would have no idea Bush was here. He and his retinue have booked all 237 rooms at the King David Hotel, which you may remember is just one block from the Hebrew Union College. Apparently, they're not allowing even pedestrian traffic on our block of King David Street, so the college has closed down Wednesday-Friday. He's also planning to visit the consulate in East Jerusalem, too, which is one block from the Albright and adjacent to my beloved YMCA. Maybe he'll drop in for a massage from one of the locals! I'll keep my eyes out.