Mormon University, Mt. Scopus

*These photos were taken in the last remaining hours of sunlight I saw over Jerusalem, each from the same standing point. The landscape faces the South, and the other faces East.*

This is me with the road sign just outside of the JCenter. I miss that place. "Mormon University." You might be able to squeeze some recognition out of "BYU," but if you say "Jerusalem Center" or "Brigham Young University," very few people in the city will know what you mean. Church of Jesus Christ? Don't even think about it. One whisper of the word MORMON will get you a lot though. We have a reputation. Because of the respect we are known to show to holy sites, we are often invited to access places others cannot go; like the entire section of the Garden of Gethsemene that only Mormons, priests, and nuns are allowed to enter. Or when three complete strangers steered two American girls to a VERY nice hostel in the city, getting them a much better deal and a much bigger, cleaner place to stay. Why? All because the girls had made friends that morning with a couple 'a kids from the Mormon University. I remember the guy's faces when they heard the girls were going to a hostel across town. Horror struck, they said, "No no! Mormons cannot stay there. We show you much better place. Come this way." I couldn't believe the place they led us to--incredible. And all because they knew some Mormons.

5 shekels to taxi. "Mormon University on Mt. Scopus, please? Shukran."

(P.S: Shukran--Arabic for "Thank you." Todah--thanks, in Hebrew.)

Road Sign

Not quite Sesame Street. (Although, they do sell sesame butter nearby.) All the road signs in Jerusalem were tri-lingual: Hebrew, Arabic, English. This street is named for King Faisal, who once ruled Saudi Arabia.

Sabra

Israelis who are native to Israel, or in other words were born there, are known as "Sabra." Sabra is the Hebrew word for this type of cactus. The cactus is difficult to remove and grows naturally throughout the land. I am told that Israelis are like the sabra because they are tough and prickly on first inspection, but are sweet and soft hearted underneath and inside. I thought that was a cute analogy.

Spotlight: Lynne Gabrielsen

Lynne Gabrielsen was one of my Jerusalem Center roommates. Meeting new roommates is an experience few look forward to without butterflies in the stomach. When I met Lynne, I thought I had hit the jackpot. She is very cool and on top of things. That being said, I also figured that we'd have a personality conflict at some point or another. We're very different. School is important to Lynne--she studied constantly. She is currently majoring in Civil Engineering here at BYU, and is incredibly dedicated. Skyrockets are required to reach her GPA. Other first-impressions that I had of Lynne included a sense of fashion, and the awesome ability to wear make-up well. She always looked good. And clean. Haha--I just remembered that she had the only working flat-iron in our apartment. Luckily for us, she was kind and merciful and voluntarily shared it with us. Also, out of the four girls in room 408, Lynne was the only one in the "other" class, taught by Richard Draper instead of by Victor Ludlow. We valued her input because she filled us in on the different side of things, etc.

I really began to get along with Lynne when we'd find something to talk about. So much fun! A sensational conversationalist, Lynne can't stop once she gets going. It wasn't uncommon for Lynne and I to have "bedroom chats," she sitting on her bed and me on mine all the way across the room, talking for an hour or longer about boys, clothes, or music. Lynne was in Jazz band in High School, and when I'd play my WWII music she'd hear a snippet and say, "Isn't that "Taxi War Dance?" or, "Count Basie! Turn it up." I fell irresistibly in love with Lynne when I found out that she was familiar with the music of Jason Robert Brown, one of my favorite broadway lyricists and composers. We had long conversations about broadway music, and we listened to each other's music frequently. I loved it when she'd ask to borrow my ipod so she could go to the gym. Ah! There's another thing about Lynne. She takes very good care of herself: early to bed, early to rise, healthy food, and exercise. She went out of her way to buy fruit and vegetables.

Did we ever disagree? Yeah. I'm extremely opinionated, and I'm afraid that I offended Lynne occasionally. Something I regret and did not intend. I remember one specific circumstance when I insulted her favorite actor, Carey Grant, and that by doing so I unforseeably provoked her, starting one of those hideously honest finger pointing conversations. But it was all good. She helped me to see the way other people see me, and in many ways she pointed me on the path of learning things about myself that I needed to learn. Way to go, Lynne. ...I've heard that I am intimidating, quite by accident, I assure you, and for Lynne to say something difficult to me must have taken a lot of guts. Go, Lynne!

Lynne was out in the city a lot. Even at night. She saw as much as she could, and she took a lot of really good pictures to boot. I've posted several of them here. An incredibly gifted and bright individual, Lynne is a master student. Not only that, she reads classic books. For fun. (and she put up with me for teasing her about that fact.) I caught her reading Crime and Punishment frequently. She loves it. Frankly the thought of reading that again makes me ill, but Lynne sees so many things that I do not. She has a gift for analysis. She has good taste, too. She wisely spent her money on things that were worth it, and never on frivolities that didn't matter.

In many ways, Lynne reminds me of my oldest sister Melissa. Huh. I respect Lynne greatly, and I wish that I saw her on campus more now. When we see each other we go nuts, but I hope she'd agree that I haven't seen each other enough lately. I miss her smile. I LOVE YOU, LYNNE!
















Note: I love that I'm not asking these people's permission before talking about them. Oh well.

Augusta Victoria, My Heart

Dozens of churches of varied denominations scatter the Holy Land. Cavernous cathedrals, cozy chapels, traditional synagogues with the separate balcony for women, mixed seating synagogues, cramped mosques, spacious mosques, quiet places of wilderness, and any other sort of a place of worship you can figure. Most of these places are centered in concentrated clusters in the Old City of Jerusalem. For the purposes of this post, I will refer only to Christian churches.

After touring seven or eight chapels, including Church of the Holy Sepulcher and the Church of All Nations, it seemed to me that each "place of worship," had very little to do with praising and worshiping the Lord Jesus Christ. Rather, each seemed to be ornate encasements for shrines. Recognizing the dedication and sacrifice each of these places had required inspires a feeling of respect. They're beautiful! The details of a mosaic, the spectacular architecture is breathtaking. I could sit for hours in the large hall in Church of the Holy Sepulcher doing nothing but staring at the dome ceiling and the pillars. (Though, I'm not sure I recommend it. That's what I was doing when I caught a hard piece of pigeon poo in the eye.) Each place was lovely and a dedicated crew of religious folk kept it so, and looked after it. But church after church failed to remind me of the divinity of the Christ, or of his glorious sacrifice for each and every man woman and child who has or ever will live on this earth that we might live again.

I discovered for myself that "shrine," was often synonymous with "idol." Yes, it is spectacular to see a stone slab that may have been where Jesus was laid after his crucifixion, and such a place should be regarded as sacred and held in worthy awe. But does that mean that we should worship that rock? Or kiss it? I believe that every man should have the freedom to worship according to the dictates of their own conscience, and that every man will feel and show the evidences of their faith differently. For me no rock, location, or place could ever capture the spirit of that Christ without quiet reverence. And no place will convey to any man a knowledge that Jesus is the Christ. "Walking where Jesus walked," as the saying goes will not influence you in the slightest.

I have touched the waters of the Galilee. I have stood on the peak of Mt. Sinai. I have visited Mt. Tabor, traversed the length of Israel, and I have waded through the grasses of the Mount of Beatitudes. I have visited Nazareth, Capernaum, Tiberias, Bethany, Bethphage, and Nain. I learned much. I saw more than I expected to. And having been there, I can say with conviction that my testimony and knowledge that Jesus is the Christ, the son of God, the Savior and Redeemer of the world did not change an iota from the time before I had seen such places. It is not the place that testifies of Christ. It is the holy spirit that testifies of him. You need not visit to Jerusalem to know that for yourself. Read his words! Follow his teachings. Pray unto the Father in his name, asking whether or not he is who the scriptures have proclaimed him to be and you may know for yourself. Don't have to take my word for it. Excuse me. My heart suddenly overflowed and I wished to explain myself. I have however, yet again, digressed from the topic.

I couldn't understand why anyone thought that lighting candles to a golden image of Mary and the babe Jesus was worship at all. Where was the soul or the heartfelt love of God expressed in such an act? And could a written prayer or creed express your gratitude and praise for all He has done for you? For your family and for all mankind? For the world? Was this worship, kissing a rock?

The Church of Augusta Victoria, and the accompanying hospital adjoined to the same, stands east of the Old City on the Mount of Olives. There is a tower, an orchard of olive trees, and a large pipe organ inside. The interior is breathtaking and ornate. What makes it different from the other churches? To me it was the cleanliness and the focus of the architecture. No pillars or walls blackened by soot, and no shrines to kiss or cry at. Images of the Savior and his prophets were everywhere. Books of hymns could be found nearby, and there was a pulpit. The resonant acoustics certainly didn't offend me either. The "Augusta Victoria Tower," so easily seen from the city, was VERY tall, and VERY difficult to climb without becoming winded. So many stairs! And such a view from the top! Even while I knew the church had first been built to solidify a "german presence in the Holy Land," directed by the Kaiser, I still felt a spirit of worship and a focus on the Savior was the center of the building. It was peaceful. It was quiet. You felt lighter, and better after spending time there.

I visited Augusta Victoria three times, and still I itched to return. I would love to go there again someday.

Enjoy the photos. I took a few myself, but the others I found.

"Fig Leaf Position"

These are fig leaves. As in, what Adam and Eve made clothes out of. WHY anyone would choose fig leaves I can't imagine. They're prickly and don't have much surface area-- the holes in the leaves wouldn't be ideal for modesty, you know. Go figure.

I found this plant in the "garden of Eden," which is of course at Tel Dan in northern Israel. Garden of Eden, huh? HA!

American Gothic?

In this Photo: Rebecca Price and Sam Stapp


BWA hahahhahahaha

Church of Pater Noster

The Church of the Pater Noster stands where it is believed Jesus gave the Lord's prayer, and is now known for having tiled panels with the prayer in over 100 languages.

I looked all over for Hmong, and couldn't find it. Sorry, Jared. I was surprised to see Cornish, Tagalog and Flemish side by side. There was no rhyme or reason to the placement. The Hebrew prayer looks funny--they extended the final mem so much that it looks stretched. I thought it was so cool when I found Guarani, because they are the people in the movie "The Mission."

It was fun going with so many return missionaries-- we had enough in our group to say that we could read the text in 20 languages--which, a nun there told me was a record for as long as she had been there. Nifty, eh?

Take a look.

Take a look.

Grumpy Old Men

Photo taken by Carlee Painter.

"The Sea of Sunset"

A friend took this--Kendra Crandall--and I had to share it. Why? For the simple reason that such a sight was typical of every sunset at the Jerusalem Center. (These windows are from the auditorium.) Every window in the building faces "full west," (a detail Lady Catherine DeBourg would surely notice,) and each night the last remaining embers of light would warm the city, bathing it in the glow. A molten setting sun touched clouds with fire, and for the first time in my life I learned the literal meaning of the phrase "tripped the light fantastic." The warmth would swell and stretch itself, as if holding for as long as it could until in a final flare it slipped beyond the horizon and was gone.

...And I know it's cheesy, but I once stood on the observatory deck in a sunset and recited tailored phrases from my favorite poem, "Ulysses," by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

Something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks;
The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs;
Come, my friends.
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
My purpose holds;
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.

Tiberias Branch

Across the Sea of Galilee from the Ein Gev kibbutz where we we stayed, lies Tiberias. At dusk I would watch the lights of the city come to life and send their glow across the waters. For Shabbat services, we bussed around the sea to the "Tiberias Branch" house. YES, there is an LDS branch (aka, congregation) in the Galilee.

On the backside of the house, a balcony overlooked the lapis sea. The most tranquil sight my eyes have seen. Complete peace. Roses outside the front door. Spotless cleanliness inside and out. A piano and a pulpit. The air was different. It was noticeable. I drank in the feeling of it, breathing deeply the peace and the warmth. I knew it had "dedicated building" feel, just like the Branch in Amman, Jordan. The change in the air was palpable. I walked slowly and quietly, just feeling the reverence.

On a slightly different note, I'll mention that the members of the branch speak four languages. Russian, Hebrew, English, and Spanish-- and the listing of the Hymn numbers was so amazing I had to show the picture.

I loved that day.

Parsley, Sage, Saffron, and Thyme

Buying Spices in the Old City.

Where's My Purse?

WARNING! WARNING! Keep personal items with you at all times. Why? Because if Israeli police find an unattended bag or item they will put it in something like this and incinerate it. Why? In case it was a bomb. I watched a box of pastries get blown up. Seriously! No joke. Thought you'd like to know.

Models in this picture are, from left to right: Caleb Merrill, Ashley Eskelsen, and Kendra Crandall. (Note the "exploding" gestures.)

Friends

Last night I spent at Brandon's apartment (where I met his charming fiancee, Hannah) and we had a mini-reunion of Jerusalem people while we ate cheesecake. It was delightful. A refreshing reminder of the friends I've made and the good times we've had. A certain song came to mind.

I decided spur-of-the-moment to post some pictures of Jerusalem friends.