Leavings

Amber here. We’re going to the Holy Land.

I’ve been once before, three years ago. It was in the summer after my junior (first) year of seminary and I was traveling with experienced guides, a flock of friends from my home parish, and had an incomplete but practiced grasp of Greek.

Now, I’m the "expert" of our two-person group, every bit the novice and still with only a basic grasp of the wrong biblical language. Folks have sent me off with their well-wishes, imploring safety. Translation: don’t get blown up.

A resilient dog

For my own part, there comes a point before every trip when a wave of dread hits me and makes me feel like this is the very last thing in the world I want to do, and I really shouldn’t be away from work or my garden and not only that, but my dog’s heart is going break in pieces without me, and I can’t live with the guilt of crushing his very feeling little soul. Plus, I’m going to cross an ocean by magically defying gravity for 10 hours?! It’s enough that if there were a big red ABORT button that would refund my payments and let me go back to everyday life, I would press it. This panic hits about 24 hours before departure, every single trip I take.

I blame it mostly on fear: fear of airplanes and large bodies of water. (And death, you know, but I’m promising Melissa not to get too morbid in this blog.)

But fear not, intrepid readers! Airlines have become a part of my moral and spiritual development in terms of fortitude, as they do not have any big red abort buttons. Whether it’s necessity or courage, I don’t know and won't parse it out, but as soon as I woke up today I was ready to go.

We drove to the airport watching a golden sun rising and I thought about Origen and how he thinks praying for the sunrise is a worthwhile action, for, "God has employed the free will of individual beings on earth for the service of beings on earth in arranging them aright, so we may suppose that He has employed the free will, fixed and certain and steadfast and wise as it is, of sun, moon and stars in arranging the whole world of heaven with the course and movement of the stars in harmony with the whole."

I murmured our words about being dust, and began to look forward to that dust swirling off in the Jerusalem sunset.

Farewell and blessings to you all from Newark.

peace,
Amber