THOUGHTS ALONG THE JOURNEY

Sydney and Melbourne ‘enjoy’ an intense rivalry. And when push comes to shove, as it often does, we can always pay out on the good folk of Tasmania. Australian city and state rivalry is something I am well used to but my first experience of it in the Holy Land took me by surprise. The good Christian folk of Nazareth have only one claim to fame. Whereas Christians around the world cry joyously “verbum carum factum est” (the Word was made flesh) those from Nazareth claim “verbum carum hic factum est” (here the word was made flesh) and to be very honest there ain’t that much more to Nazareth. The Johannine lament ‘what good come from Nazareth” (1John43) still rings mostly true. Then there is Jerusalem, the place where it all happened, our Judeo Christian heritage and hope is firmly rooted in that crazy hot bed of a city. It is the City Of King David and the setting of Christs Passion, Death and Resurrection. No one can escape the mingle of politics and hope when you walk its’ narrow streets. Well, last Thursday I was in Jerusalem enjoying a pre-Lenten feast at ‘Foyer Mar Maroun’ which is a Christian Hostel and the home of the Maronite Patriarch when he is in Jerusalem (he normally resides in Haifa). I was seated between two lovely women, one from Nazareth (of the afore mentioned lack of fame) and the other from Jerusalem (of the aforementioned fame). The scene, getting acquainted: “Hi, I’m Paul and I’m from Australia”, “no not Austria – Australia (as I put out in my hands in front of me and bop up and down pretending I’m a kangaroo).” “Yes, very sad about the Crocodile Hunter”. A point to which all three of us willingly agree. My friend from Nazareth then chimed in, proudly proclaiming that she was from Nazareth and a likely descendant off the same family that gave birth to Jesus. Or so she had been told by a man writing for National Geographic some years back. Not to be outdone the lass from Jerusalem claimed that her family had been in Jerusalem the ‘Holy City’ since before the time of Christ. “So” the Nazorean casually remarked “It was us who gave Him life and it was you who killed Him.” Now that has gotta hurt! Oh Tassie where are you now?

While reading the national newspaper called ‘The Jerusalem Post’ I discovered that the Israeli Government officially recognises three branches of Judaism; Orthodox, Conservative and Reform. Remarkable how it mirrors Orthodox, Catholic and Protestant in the Christian tradition. William Dalrymple in his book ‘From The Holy Mountain’ identifies the Islamic custom of facing Mecca to pray as coming from the Armenian monastic tradition of placing your prayer niche in the direction of Jerusalem which the psalms call the ‘true pole of the earth’ (Psalm 48 I think). Likewise the Muslim call to prayer is an imitation of the Angelus bell. Nothing new under the sun.

While reflecting on the current crises betweens Jews and Muslims and work being carried out between the Al-Aqsa Mosque and the Western Wailing Wall I had this to say to a friend in an email. “When we (an Aussie friend and I) were in Jerusalem we saw demonstrations between the Jews and Muslims. In my opinion they seem to enjoy antagonising each other, just like little kids arguing “you hit me first”, “no, you hit me first” and the tit for tat goes on and on and on. One side throws stones, then the other side uses bullets, then the other side plants a car bomb, then the other retaliates with economic sanctions. It is the same pattern over and over again. Having learnt the hard way that violence does not work I think they should both grow up!!! End of homily.

Jerusalem is often called the Walled City. Why? Because the Old City is surrounded by a wall, most of which was built by the Turks ,often on remnants of older walls. The wall is punctured by eight gates. After a verbous description of each gate the official Israeli tour guide book (the kind you pick up as you walk through customs) concludes with this brief line: Closed gates include The Western Gate, the Chain Gate, and the Gate of Forgiveness. Come on guys!!!!!! Or, is it just me?

UPDATE 15 MARCH
Today I read that this gate is also called ‘The Gate Of Mercy’ or ‘The Golden Gate’. The word ‘Golden’ refers to the colour of the stone that was used to close over the gate. Two other interesting points.
1] The gate was sealed by the Turks.
2] Jewish tradition hold that the Messiah will enter Jerusalem through this gate.
(I will leave you good folk to draw your own conclusions.)

Fr Yano was born a Polish Jew. During the Holocaust he was given to a Christian family who falsified a birth certificate and adopted him as their own. His life was spared while most of his family perished. In time Yano, whose history was never hidden from him, entered the seminary and was ordained. Oddly enough his older brother, the only other member of his family to survive, became a Rabbi. They both wound up working and living in Israel. The story goes that Yano’s brother was not able to cope with his younger brothers decision to become a catholic priest and the two were never able to find any common ground. Today and last Sunday I said the 9am Mass with Yano. It was my first direct contact (of which I am aware) with a Holocaust survivor and its significance was not lost on me. Yano is a dry old stick who is used to calling the shots. He had so many arguments with his Bishop in Poland that he now lives on his own and is a free agent. As a Survivor he was given a unit by the Israeli government who also support him financially. When I first met him just before Mass last week he introduced himself as ‘Kyrle Elaison.’ Thankfully I am not as dumb as I look, a few minutes later at the introduction of the Mass I introduced myself as ‘Christie Elaison’, no body in the congregation knew what I was saying but Yano, standing by side, smiled. He cringed when I asked to have a photo taken with him, but it was worth whatever he muttered under his breath as the shutter clicked. See my album section ‘Fr Yanos & I’.

I was on duty in St Peters Church this morning when the Armenian Archbishop came to say Mass. Having been born into the Maronite Tradition it was a great reminder of something I already knew only to well; the Latin (Roman) tradition is not the only valid expression of faith in that which we call the “one Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church”. The assisting priest had the most amazing voice, which was a good thing as most of the Mass is sung. With my rather pathetic singing voice there is no way they would have ordained me in the Armenian Church. The priest was a fat little man with an Elvis style slick back hair, I couldn’t but help and marvel at the exquisite sound coming from his mouth, both haunting and prayerful. Dressed in his cape and domed mitre he looked like dracula and the Bishop looked like Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan Kenobi, (check out the not-so-good picture which I took from the sacristy in the album section and two pics of the church in ‘St Petersv Jaffa’ album). I had done a little bit of reading on the plight of the Armenian church and so I knew something of their massacre in Turkey in 1951. I chatted with the sacristan about the plight of the 7 million or so stateless Armenians scattered around the world with no land of their own. We had a rather good chat as he retreated to the sacristy on numerous occasions to replenish the charcoal in the well and often swung thurible. From start to finish it was 3 hour extravaganza. I even got to kiss the archbishops ring, which I noticed is far smaller than that of Latin Rite bishops. Is that what you normally do to an Armenian archbishop?

Gosh! Where does one begin a public journal? More to the point - how do I begin? Questions and answers give the easiest entry. <<>> What journey? A 12 month period of service in Israel. Do I regret coming to the Holy Land? No, not at all. Has it been easy and smooth sailing? No, not at all. Will I pretty up this site with plenty of pictures? I’ll try but no promises, I am more a ‘word’ kind of guy. Do I plan to see out the six months? Certainly do. (Sorry Steve, no extra workers yet) Have I answered burning questions about Jew / Muslim / Christian ? No, just more questions have surfaced. Will I use spell check in this blog? No, I can”t fynde itt? Why is AbounaOFM your nickname? Abouna means ‘father’ in Arabic (which I am trying hard to learn thanks to Sr Mona) and the OFM stands for ‘Order Of Friars Minor’ of which I am a member. Am I happy? Hmmm, yes I am. I also feel sad at times but the overwhelming feeling is one of joy for the ‘gift’ of this year. Do I miss family and friends? Sure do. (Catholic guilt dictates that now that you have read this you will feel a deep need to return and check out my wandering thoughts) If I fynde where the spell check is located will I use it? Probably not. <<>> Finally, am I ‘holier’ after six months on the job walking on the soil on which Christ trod? —— only till kick off Round One of the NRL Footy Season! Go the Dogs. <<>> For the benefit of those who have stumbled onto this site and are wondering …… yes, I am Franciscan Friar and an ordained Catholic priest.