Advent -- Week 2

"Up, Jerusalem! stand upon the heights;

    look to the east and see your children
gathered from the east and the west
    at the word of the Holy One,
    rejoicing that they are remembered by God." (Baruch 5:5)

The above verse is part of the first reading for this coming Second Sunday of Advent.  It's a great image for me because it brings me back to the Holy Land pilgrimage I was on in 1999-2000 with my seminary class.  It was a great trip, and there are lots of incredible memories.  However, I listen to the prophet Baruch "Up, Jerusalem! stand upon the heights"  The way Jerusalem is built up in elevation and from walking along the ramparts of the great city (the tops of their walls), one can see for miles to the east.  but Baruch is not simply telling us because we can see forever, but that all of God's children are going to be called back one day -- and not simply the "holy ones."  ALL of God's children.  And how?  Are they going to be afraid?  What if God doesn't like me?  Is He really going to call ALL of us?"  Yes!  REJOICING that they are remembered by God.  Isn't that beautiful?

We are also let in just a little about John the Baptist.  It's not the very beginning of his life and the story of Zechariah's vision of the angel.  No.  John is already grown up and fulfilling the prophesy that Zechariah made upon John's naming -- that he would announce to the world the coming of the Lord.  "Prepare!"

As I mentioned above, the seminary had begun a Holy Land semester a year before my class went.  There was not the amount of unrest we see in our world today.  Pilgrims would travel there from all over the world.  Being that we were going to be there for the turn of the millennium (1999 into 2000), the world was worried more about what was known as Y2K.  It was a thought that someone, when programming time and calendars into digital format, the year would change from 1999 to 1900 again and mess up everything.  Obviously, that didn't happen.  Computers didn't shut down nor explode.  Phones kept working.  TVs were still working too.  It was one major "let down" for society -- HA HA!

We arrived in Tel Aviv, Israel on December 1st (having left the U.S. on November 30th).  From Tel Aviv, we were taken to Bethlehem by bus.  It was still night time and difficult to get my bearings (which is NOT good for someone who gets motion-sick very easily).  I can recall, however, seeing some of the lit areas along the road and seeing barbed-wire fences.  It was not a very comforting sight.  What had we flown into?  It also didn't help that I was worried about one of my friends back at home.  He was supposed to be joining us in a second group of our class arriving the following day.  He didn't come.  I was heart-broken to hear from our instructor that he was not continuing studies for priesthood.  I didn't know anything more.  Eventually I came to find out that the rest of my class knew -- even my two best friends -- and this friend making everyone promise not to let me know.  Why?  Because, as I heard from him a year later by phone, he said he knew I wouldn't have gone.  He wanted me to have the experience with or without him.  I wanted it WITH him.  But he was right.

The morning we were to leave, I looked and looked for him.  I had no intention of getting into the limousine until I knew he was ok and ready.  In some ways, I was "kidnapped" into going -- getting on the planes and moving forward with the trip.  Obviously, I really still not over it.  He died about 11 years ago now.  When he knew his cancer was terminal, he called me to ask me to celebrate his funeral Mass.  With the same love he had for me in my low times, it was all I could do to serve him one last time.  I had to step up and put on my own britches.  It was by far the most difficult funeral I had celebrated -- in some way more difficult than for my own father (and THAT was tough!).

Still, he was also right about my going on the trip.  It really was a great trip.  Fun and still profound.  It was actually the first time I realized a talent for writing and journaling.  I knew it was a good thing when my own father read my 60-page journal in one afternoon.  For him to do that was a real feat as the bulk of reading dad ever seemed to do was the morning newspaper.

That springboard and talent pushed me to actually put a hodgepodge book together, We Don't Live In Eden, published in 2014.  It's hard to believe it's been 10 years already.  It's hard to believe it's been 24 years since going to Israel.

What isn't hard to believe is that there is still more just waiting for me to experience.  Keep preparing!