Question: ... one highlight of our pilgrimage to the Holy Land? .... The question is, "What influenced you most and how does it help your spiritual life?" or something like that....
Answer (in 126 words): What influenced me most? Perhaps the water. I now realize, scrolling through my pictures, that the water had me completely transfixed. The Dead Sea: captivatingly beautiful, and yet unable to sustain any life. Juxtaposed with the Sea of Galilee, which supplies fresh water to the country of Israel: equally beautiful, yet life-giving. This is quite a metaphor for faith! It’s not what anyone, including me, sees that is evidence of my faith – it’s what is in my heart and what is life-giving in my actions, my prayer, and my words. Susan, my Jewish seatmate on the way to Tel Aviv, asked me “What have Catholics to do with the Dead Sea?” Along with matters of history, I now have an answer of faith to offer her.
 |
| first glimpse of the Mediterranean Sea |
I have always felt most at home by the water. Silly, actually, as I grew up inland, and didn't spend any time that I can recall near water until high school. At my first glimpse of the Mediterranean Sea, I was overcome with emotion. Dusk was falling, we'd just spent 10 hours on a plane, and we were now on a bus halfway around the world, so the 'overcome' was over the top, even for me. Still, it is an ocean I'd never seen before -- and never thought I would! After dinner, we walked across the street (no easy feat!) to the beach, and right down to the water of the Sea that also touches Greece, Italy, Turkey, Egypt, Tunisia, France and Spain. Simply amazing. Calmly, the water lapped at our feet. I stood gazing at what we could see of the horizon, soothed by the sound, the breeze, the sand.
 |
| fishermen at sunset on the Sea of Galilee |
So much happened on the Sea of Galilee. Miracles happened when this body of water was involved. Jesus calmed a storm on the Sea of Galilee. It's where he walked on the water, beckoning Peter to join him. And that's just the highlights. We took a boat ride on Saturday afternoon, and as I sat watching the water, listening to the water and some music played for our enjoyment, I thought of Dad. Water, Dad, and the Father often go together for me, and this particular water pulled these two fathers of mine tightly in my heart. Standing at the back of the boat, watching the wake, and marveling at how small this lake really is, I felt Dad's left arm around my shoulders, and God's right hand on the small of my back. I knew I was right where I should be, physically, mentally, spiritually. Tears streamed down my face as all the sounds of the rest of the group faded behind me. For a time, I was alone on the Sea of Galilee with those who love me in ways no one else ever can: as fathers. I could have stayed on that boat for days. Thankfully, we spent many days travelling around this beautiful lake, seeing it from different angles and perspectives, touching the water, walking on the pebbly beaches, feeling the powerful pull of life -- of water.
 |
| the River Jordan |
I had heard that the Jordan River was not what we normally think of as a river. Iyad, our guide, told us that it would remind us more of what we would call a creek. Still, I was surprised to see how narrow the Jordan could be. We stopped at a site where people often go to be immersed in its waters. It was the widest part of the river we saw, and really was smaller than the creeks we have kayaked. When asked how near we were to where John would have baptized Jesus, Iyad looked at us and simply said, "Not very." The river runs through the Sea of Galilee, a channel of water of a different density cutting through the lowest freshwater lake on earth. The area around the Yardinet was beautifully developed. In another spot, closer to where John and Jesus did their thing, it was even narrower, overgrown, and mud-colored. The miracles and diversity of life.
 |
| the shoreline of the Dead Sea |
But the body of water that made the biggest impression on me, based partly by the number of pictures I took, was the Dead Sea. The very name scared me when I was a kid -- so much I didn't want to hear any stories about it, or ask any questions about it for fear that I would die if I heard too much. Growing up, I pictured black or purple water, or water-like stuff, looking more like goo than anything else. What I first saw through a bus window amazed and transfixed me. It was truly magnificent! None of the pictures could do it justice. Likely more because of the difference between what it truly was and decades of misconception! The water was as blue as any I've ever seen. The shoreline was once underwater; the water level has been dropping steadily due to damming of the Jordan. By 2050 there will be no Dead Sea if nothing changes. The lack of life around the sea is disconcerting. All that surrounds it are the muddy flats of soil rich in minerals and salts, but in too dense a quantity for anything to grow -- too much of a good thing! And, oh, that mud! Thick and black, mushy, but almost dry to the touch. Someone in our group described it as being the consistency of Crisco, and I can't think of a better analogy. After floating in the water, and smearing the mud on my face, legs and arms, my skin did feel new; although I wrote that day that "after showering twice, I still feel like a roasted, salted pistachio shell tastes." Before I went, I was told there were no words that could prepare me for the Dead Sea. I would agree.
