12-23-2016 The Season of Kahn

 And Jesus came and said to them, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to m

Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age."  Matthew 28:18-20

כָּאן Kahn – adj. Around you, coming soon, nearby.    

I’m gazing out the window of a friend’s apartment which offers a spectacular view of what I consider my favorite spot on this planet. It’s a place where mountain springs gather into a shallow, but significant lake, enabling aquatic creatures and shoreline vegetation to flourish. Dramatic cliffs and lush rolling hills aren’t far off, framing the vista as a statement to Your perfect artistry, YHWH.

But its physical beauty, (nothing to be ignored, Lord!) is equaled by the history of Kinneret, once called the Sea of Galilee. Because of these factors combined, the place has captured my heart. This is where the hearts of your people, Creator, were shaped significantly, perhaps even more so than in Jerusalem, some would argue. This place was…and is special to You. So much so that You orchestrated something else to take place on these shores.

            As I consider the portent to which I refer, my friend also comes to the window. She has been kind enough to help me understand a few basic Hebrew words and so I ask, “The word for here is poh, correct? I’m asking because poh is where I want to be and stay…forever.

            “It depends,” she replies. If you mean right here, yes. But the word for nearby or surrounding is kahn.”

            I looked it up later, Lord, and kahn is also the word for lodging, like an inn where multiple people might gather. That’s what this place means to me. It’s our Kahn―a place you, Jesus, bring me to with others, to teach and pour into us, your wisdom.  But this word kahn is itself a tricky bit of teaching. Apparently, it has a double meaning. It suggests that not only is something nearby, it may be something “coming soon”. Coming soon? Whatever might that mean at this time of year, Master? Could it suggest an advent of some sort―a heralding of things yet to happen?

When I listen to people speak of Christmas, I hear them detail of the arrival of a child who offered us a glimpse of perfect innocence and hope for a better future. But many times, I don’t hear spoken the continuation of that moment; when the child grows to manhood and one day chooses this kahn as his home from which to identify and teach his disciples. Here he healed and here he spent three amazing years that would change the lives of twelve others, as well as the rest of the world. Here he…you, Lord Jesus, prepared yourself and your students, for a sacrificial moment unlike anything before and anything later to come after. Here in Kinneret, you gathered others in preparation for a kahn, where your followers will dwell with you forever: a moment that may be very nearby, a horizon event unlike any other, coming soon.

So maybe Christmas isn’t at all about something that has happened…yet. Maybe it’s a season all about practicing for a horizon event that we only think we comprehend. Maybe from now on, when I imagine Christmas, I’ll include in my mind’s eye something beyond decorated trees, wonderful music and lights adorning buildings. I’ll even look beyond my immediate family and friends (whom I love and cherish so much!), to see a larger kahn. It will be a place fed by a beautiful running stream that overflows into a lake which supplies great blessing to those who choose to dwell on its shores. It will be (and in my heart, already is) a place where you, my Redeemer and my Lord, invite all who accept you as their Savior King, to rest in your presence. It will be (and already in your heart is) your Kingdom kahn.

Merry Christmas. May each of you discover the shalom of His Kingdom kahn.

11-24-2016 Hopeful Ones of the Unmentionable,

"Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”                              

Matthew 5:11-12.

Lord, I’m not sure the best way to address my observations on the subject of Aliyah. It’s an issue I can only perceive through a dim mirror because I’m not Jewish and I don’t qualify for the amazing offer. But I certainly recognize the turmoil associated with friends who do seek citizenship in the land of Israel and for some strange reason, You have put it on my heart to champion their cause. I will not disobey.

The thorny problem has to do with those of clear Hebrew descent, whose Mother comes from clearly defined Jewish stuff, but who have come to know You, Yeshua, as Messiah – these whom the world refers to as Messianics.  Here’s where things get tricky. Regardless of their beliefs, such Jews with strong heritage are not permitted Aliyah. This confuses me because, as my research into the matter suggests that spiritual orientation is only “loosely” involved in the administrative decision by the governmental powers that be, to grant citizenship.

I know I’m a pathetic outsider looking in, but I have seen other Jews granted Aliyah who have little to no spiritual connection what-so-ever. Secular Judaism seems to be OK in the eyes of those separating the lambs from the goats and biological heritage suffices to allow some, permanent sanctuary. Yet someone with fierce conviction of relationship with You Father God, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the same God who loved these Aliyah seekers so much that he gave his only begotten son to die for their sins, those particular Jews are Persona Non-grata.

Why? Some would call it a “technicality”, others see it as irrefutable law. Long ago, soon after your death and resurrection, Yeshua, a chief rabbi was presented with a dilemma. He perceived that a Jewish zealot, who fought fiercely against the Romans, was the true Messiah. There were other issues convoluting his consideration, You God, know and understand them better than I. The bottom line is that whatever was his perception, whatever was the condition of his heart, the Rabbi made a decision that caused a satanic rift that injures all of us to this day. He decreed that, because there could only be one Messiah, Jews who believed their Spiritual Conqueror and Redeemer to be Yeshua could not also be counted as Jews.

The actions of one have condemned into future history the wellbeing and unity of Your people. I’d laugh at the irony, but it doesn’t seem very funny in retrospect: First, the zealous Messianic crusader and his champion Rabbi are both long buried in historical obscurity. The decision made, set Judaism and Christianity as enemies of one another instead of close kin who seek a common Kingdom.

Now the government of Israel and the Rabbinical powers debate this Aliyahistic conundrum seldom even considering that it was the very insistence of believing in Messiah that causes them now to separate out those who actually do recognize their Savior.

But one group, even more so, was injured in the quarrel. Jews, devout Jews, Jews who can trace back to the Exodus their heritage and who love You as much, possibly more than other Jews; have been denied the rights of Judaism. These Yeshua believers could, by one action, restore their Judaism. All they have to do is renounce the son of God. They do not and will not and so our modern day society and those who lord it over them, and us, have propelled our world back to the days of the Inquisition.

It must make You weep, it certainly does me. Lord, you teach me to forgive those who strike my cheek. I can only imagine your conversation with the Rabbi for what he set in motion. It is one more evidence that mankind continues to crucify you and ourselves. I beg on the Rabbi’s behalf, on my behalf, on the behalf of all, your forgiveness, for we know not what we do.

And You offer hope! On our trip to the Land, we have met many of the Aliyah seekers who also call themselves Followers of Yeshua, we have experienced their love and their persistence in trying to bring fresh eyes to a problem. They also desire reconciliation and they forgive those who have turned Your design, Most High, into a meaningless political dance.

The Hopeful Ones are courageous indeed, one righteous women stating to me, “Some of us aren’t hiding, I’m not hiding.” When she said this, images of Cory Tinboom and Ann Frank came to mind. What a twisted reality where some must hide from the very community in which they wish to participate.

There are other Hopeful Ones who seek the nuance of the situation. They hope that the question of their belief in you Yeshua never comes up in their quest for Alyiah. They monitor carefully their time on social media and their daily associations. I have been shown examples of those who attended an event, or associated with a Messianic group for a brief period. We even pray right this moment for a young person (how sad, I don’t even want to hint at their sex because of prying eyes that might glance casually this direction), who have Messianic family members. Even though they are not Messianic themselves and have demonstrated a sincere desire to embrace You as their Judaistic Creator, their biological association with such, quote-unquote, nefarious characters, makes them permanently suspect.

Perhaps the above mentioned approach is saddest of all, for it makes you, Yeshua, Unmentionable, going against the very heart of your calling to teach all nations, even the nation of Israel.

Maybe I’ve gone on too long about the dilemma, Lord. I look to The Spirit to wrestle within the hearts of all those, on all sides of the struggle of Aliyah. All I will do is what you have always taught me to do: End with a question that will cause me (and I pray others) to seek deeper relationship with you…

—If we are all, Jew, Messianic, Arab and Gentile—Believers seeking Messiah. Would it not benefit us to seek him together, with one Heart, one Mind and in one Land?

Thankful in the Lord,

Mark C.

11-21-2016 Mishpacha

I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the mishpacha of the earth shall be blessed.” Genesis 12:3

I suspect that anyone who has made an eventful trip, attended or served during a stirring event or visited an inspiring location has had the thought run through their mind, “How did the time go by so quickly? I want this moment to go on for a much longer time.”

Forgive me Savior, at the risk of drawing in too close, I suspect even you longed for more “physical” time with your earthly disciples and family, even knowing that by your ultimate actions, there will be eternal spiritual time to commune.

I’m in that wrestling moment now. We’re preparing to fly back to the States and, just as with last time I visited Your Land, Father, I feel more like I’m leaving home rather than going home. Just as with last time the length of our stay here has passed much too quickly. Yet this time, I’m feeling not only like I’m leaving behind my roots, but also significant people. People who have woven themselves into my heart in a way that can’t be separated.

My traveling companions are certainly a portion of that weaving, but there are more. People in Jerusalem who shared the depths of their historical knowledge, people in the Shamron who walked with us on the very paths of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, who brought us to the very heights where those God Seekers and we experienced a very special touch from Your Spiritual finger.

We encountered others who have suffered in Your name and those who are sacrificing / offering their livelihoods at this moment to serve You and Your people. We even connected with beautiful ones who don’t even realize (yet) that they are Yours and You are their loving God.

I have only one word that seems to encompass this community that pervaded our hearts as we “Lived Israel”. The word is not even one I can claim as my own (you know, Jesus how I love to invent phrases). It’s a word passed on by a friend and it speaks to tight association, either by bloodline or through shared significant experiences.

The word in Hebrew is Mishpacha – Family.

You instruct us in Your word Father about the importance of honoring Family. You offer blessings to all families throughout the world who honor Your family, and curses to those who would curse your chosen ones.

Which brings me to my point, Lord. I am leaving family here, brand new members of our family I didn’t even know before arriving. I’m leaving them not by choice, but by necessity. I should be sad, but I’m not. I’ll miss them. Many of them I’ll converse with by email and many I hope to see again soon.

What is important is that I carry their stories with me and share them with my family a world away. You have shown me that part of my purpose, according to you, is to connect my family roots, not by way of the worldwide web but by interlacing our commonality via Your Spiritual web. I want to be obedient to your call to restore what is in danger of being lost in this modern era. I will follow your calling on me to bring attention to your people, their common desire of joining hands to honor You, to serve You and one another in time of need, in time of worship and in time of fellowship – the true components of Godly Mishpacha.

Wow, I realize, Father, that my Mishpacha is growing because You are blessing me as I bless those I meet in Jerusalem, all of Samaria and to the ends of the Earth. I hope the ends of the Earth are ready to hear about their amazing Mishpacha of Israel. I pray they are ready to respond to the calls for unity, understanding and concern, and to serve those of their Mishpacha who are in dire need.

But whether they are ready to hear it or not. You, Lord have spoken and so, I will shout your message to my…OUR Mishpacha and beyond.

Mark C.

11-20-2016 To Gehenna and Back Again

“And I will lead the blind in a way that they do not know, in paths that they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These are the things I do, and I do not forsake them.”                 Isa_42:16 

“To the right, that’s the one.”

“Watch out! You almost hit that bus on the left.”

“Don’t pull too far to the right, you’ll go over the edge into the valley.”

“Oh look at that cute kitty-cat by the wall!”

“You’ve got to drive up that road to go down.”

“No, it’s down that way to get up.”

“What is that windmill doing there?”

“You can’t make a U-Turn here,”

“We’re all going to die.”

We are traveling along the Southern face the Old City Wall of Jerusalem, Lord. You are very familiar with it. We are not.

A friend has invited us to tour the campus of Jerusalem University College and gave me driving directions on how to get to the site. “It’s very simple, from the Jaffa gate go east,” he said in our phone conversation. I had to keep reminding myself he walks everywhere, so everything is a compass point. Street signs and large-scope landmarks mean nothing to him.

“So, you’re saying we will turn right from Hativat Road onto Derech Hevron?” I try to translate.

"Maybe," he says. “Just follow the wall down the valley until it stops. Then you’ll be here.

The comedy ensues as my three car-companions attempt helpful insights they believe helpful to the cause of locating the nefarious End-O-Wall which never reveals itself. We literally drive into what Locals call Hell, also know as the valley of Gehenna. It’s not in much better condition today as it was in ancient times – perhaps less smoke and refuse, certainly more crazy drivers trying to nudge us, not so kindly out of their way and off the precipice. 

I finally find a place on the narrow goat-path of a road to pull over and call our friend. “We can’t find the end of the wall,” I blurt in frustration.

“Where are you?” He queries.

“The road signs read Mt. Zion and Hamerfaked. Are we close?”

“Maybe,” he says. “I don’t look at street signs.”

Lord, you have taught me in such circumstances to retrace my steps and search out my origins, so we fumble our way back up to the Jaffa Gate and re-call our friend to begin the quest again.

“Do you see the Jaffa Gate?” He inquires blindly from the cell-phone.

“Yes, We are on the ramp coming down from the Gate and we are about to turn onto the main road.”

“Main road? Don’t do that. You need to turn at the path before the road.”

“What?” I look more carefully and discover a very, VERY narrow lane, even tighter than what natives call the main artery weaving down to the south. The tiny sidewalk of a road parallels the main, but ascends up the mountain, not down, hugging much closer to the actual Old City Wall. Carefully avoiding the pedestrian traffic that floods our way, we can now easily see ahead of us, our longed for objective; End-O-Wall.

Peeling my fingers off of the steering wheel, taking a deep cleansing breath and exiting the vehicle, I look over the edge of the hill we have just traveled up, to see the path below where we had been hopelessly lost. The humor woven into your teachable moment strikes me immediately.  

When receiving instructions from one another, we forget that each of us comes from different locations, traveling different routes, taught through different methods of different cultures. We all assume that others see the world, its pathways and nuances, from exactly the same perspective as we do, at a specific moment in time. In truth, one who may offer great advice and direction to me, may do so from a land and a place in that land, completely different from my own, so that even the tiniest gap 

in their detailing may lead to a catastrophic need for correction.   

Master, you remind me that I need at all times to carry along my spiritual compass and map…your word, in order to navigate the twists and turns that the world throws my way. It’s better of course for me to study (and restudy and restudy again) that map, and also to reach out to you for wise council before the journey begins and as it unfolds.

And then there’s the arrival…whether well traveled or obtained with many trail-trials. Let me not forget that your instructions are very clear and that it is my own perceptions and misconceptions interfering with the navigation. I want to thank you, for seeing me through, patiently to your desired objective for me.

Lord, this End-O-Wall is, as always, just another beginning of a new path. Thank you for helping me and my companions discover and weave through the beauty of our travels together. Continue to remind us to be sensitive to others who may be struggling on similar paths, helping them to find the true map and compass that will see them safely to your loving arms.

Mark C

11-17-2016 Aval Y’a Nes

Your sons will take the place of your ancestors, and you will set them up as princes in all the earth. From generation to generation, I will cause your name to be remembered. Therefore people will thank you forever and ever. Psalm 45:16-17  

Lord, I had this blog all planned out days earlier. I thought I had it completed and then you said, “Wait”. I know because the entire text was wiped off the face of the Ethernet. I had to reconstruct, and it’s a good thing. You had bigger plans for me. I wanted to write about some of the “real people” we’ve met on this trip, about their stories and how we have connected spiritually. Then that “epiphany thing” you do, hit me square in the heart.

It happened when we went to visit an assisted living facility comprise completely of holocaust survivors. The ministry is supported by the International Christian Embassy of Jerusalem who invited our group to help bless and serve this pinnacle community in Haifa. It is I who am being blessed and served Adonai. I still have difficulty comprehending that these beautiful individuals with whom we now commune, are all survivors of the European Slaughter. I will only share one of their names (with permission) in this blog out of dignity to their privacy. Her name is Rita.

The reason Rita so profoundly inspires me, besides her skill in English and the raucous wit of this 89 year old woman, is where we are now sitting. It is a place that most would call a Soup Kitchen or Community Kitchen. Five people sit at our table and around us, many other tables produce the chatter and clatter of lunchtime conversation. There is even a birthday being celebrated in another corner of this revered hall.

As I enjoy the great meal before me, the wonderful companionship, and Rita’s heartfelt telling of her wartime suffering, I’m taken back in my mind 45 years ago (Lord, has it really been that long?) when I encountered a very similar room in what was then called Prague, Czechoslovakia. At that time I was a high-school student on a choir tour. It was a highly singular event because we were allowed to visit that place a mere 3 years after the invasion of the country by the Soviet Union. It was made even more profound by our travel liaison, Rudy whom for some reason took a liking to me and a few others of our troupe. Rudy obtained permission from our chaperones and asked four of us if we would want to join him for lunch. I was naïve and hungry so…why not?

First he cautioned us that we were to take no cameras with us and that we would need to be respectful of every request he made from this point forward. Then Rudy led us through a twisting labyrinth of alleyways to a busy market area, unlike anything I had ever encountered before. It was bustling with oddly dressed men and women, all with hats and coverings on their heads. Many wore strange apron-like clothing that displayed long tassels dangling from the corners.

Rudy said with a gleam in his eye, “This is a very old Jewish community, what many would know as a Ghetto. Follow me.” We entered a small doorway into busy-ness times twenty. The small room echoed with people who I observed sitting 4 to 8 around each of approximately 40 tables. The volume and electricity of the room amazed me and we were drawn immediately to the food line by a friendly old woman. I couldn’t understand a word she said. Rudy helped us with strange food choices and we found a table where we could sit with locals who accepted us readily. In broken English we learned that this was a Zup Kikh – Yiddish for Soup Kitchen. We were asked hundreds of questions about the United States, our families and how we came to be in this place.

Lord I remember how overwhelmed I was with the interest and attention of this clan. We were consuming delicious food, but they were consuming our history, as if we were an amazing dish in some exotic restaurant. When Rudy finally broke us away from the meal, there were protesters. They were anxious for dessert! But we did escape and Rudy led us to one other site that I will never be able to erase from my mind’s eye. It was a plot of land about the size of a city block and surrounded by a wrought iron fence. Kept by the fence was a very tall hill rising above us 30 feet or more in height. “This is the cemetery for the Ghetto,” Rudy explained. “It is required by the government that all Jews be buried in this location. It has been like that for a long time, since at least World War Two, and it is why the hill is so high.”

His words soaked in with difficulty Lord. I was so young, but your teaching was already reaching into me. I realized that before me was a pile of death. Bones-upon-bones. The current landscape included uncountable grave stones tilted at bizarre angles, many chipped and broken, facing all directions in haphazard fashion. Chaos was the only word I could think of to define it at that moment. I remember wondering if, after all our accomplishments, it this was possibly the true display of what mankind had accomplished in its history.

Master, you know there is much more to that old story, I have written of it before, but it resonates with me today as I gaze at this lovely room of people. They are still full of life; they portray the potential of a better history to be laid out for their souls.

Thankfully, you have gifted them with a generous heart to share and that is what they do now. But ultimately they and their heritage will be piled into haphazard graves. Their only hope is that someone is watching, someone listening, Can I soak it all in? Can I possibly, accurately pass this moment on to others. Will they listen and receive? Will the lives of these beautiful ones affect the lives of others in a similar ways to how I have been affected, or is this moment also destined to be a broken monument to the dead piled high?

I sit here and enjoy Rita’s story shared with her current company. We become one in our history and in our love of you. She eagerly shares how you have saved her and jokes about the circumstances that led her here. The Aval Y’a Ness—the Miracles Behind. Only by Your Spirit, Father, breathed into us can we fully comprehend our lives. Otherwise we see only selfish purpose, no matter how well intentioned. It is only by your scope and vision that we are truly connected and our lives given meaning to be handed to new generations. I catch a glimpse of that Kingdom to come in this room and in the memory of the other room long ago. I relish in your parallel teaching. You give me hope for the future, shaping it in this present moment from a past revelation – my own Aval Y’a Nes which I eagerly share.

Thank you Adonai, thank you Rita and ICEJ and Rudy for allowing me to share this perfect spiritual moment with others.

Mark C.

11-14-2016 Not About Me

Then they asked him, “What must we do to perform God’s works?”

Jesus answered them, “This is God’s work: to believe in the one whom he has sent.”

John 6:28-29

Standing, sorting, pulling, cutting, folding, standing, sorting, pulling, cutting, folding, standing, sorting,  pulling, cutting, folding…

- and on it goes. I say to myself, How mundane, how ordinary. Am I really contributing? Is my effort of any real value?

We are at the Joseph Project, Lord. Of course you know that. It is you who has introduced us to this amazing organization of amazing people. These beautiful obedient ones not only offer food and clothing to indigent and needful people throughout Israel (of any ethnic and religious persuasion), but they also contribute with their own personal stories.

We have come to know them through shared experiences and I’m honored that they would consider us meaningful partners. Our tiny group of five now stand at tables; boxes of clothes stacked beside us. We are plucking out individual articles – shirts – pants – coats, donated by clothing outlets. This is high quality stuff and I’m struck by the generosity of those who offer the coverings at no charge, so that the Joseph Project can distribute them as gifts.

We are pulling off the sales tags and folding the clothes to be shipped out. It’s really simple work. Almost too simple, I’m tempted to think. Shouldn’t I be better utilized according to my “spiritual gifts assessment form”? After all, I’m a mighty good networker and a decent sales guy. Shouldn’t that be how I serve, rather than sorting textiles?

And that’s when you tap me on the spiritual shoulder, Lord. You remind me that this work is not about me. I’m just the vessel, not the precious contents. Whatever gift I think I bring, or high opinion I might have about myself, need to be left at the altar as confessions of arrogance. After all, coming here was your idea, Jesus, not mine.

So as I sort, I pray within to get my head on straight. The joy of simply serving washes over me. You will see to it that my efforts are worthy. You will bless Joseph Project and cause their efforts to expand according to Your ways, with Your spirit lifting up their powerful ministry.

I on the other hand will walk out the door at the end of the day to be about other things. Maybe I’ll return to serve again, maybe I won’t, You will determine it all, not me.

YHWH help me to continue to grow in the one way that always matters, by believing in the one whom You have sent to die for my selfish ways. I pray simply that, just as Jesus showed me how to do – when You request, I be available.

Mark C.

11-14-2016 The Moriah Wonder

Who is like you, O LORD, among the gods? Who is like you? – majestic in holiness, fearful in praises, working wonders? You stretched out your right hand, the earth swallowed them. By your loyal love you will lead the people whom you have redeemed; you will guide them by your strength to your holy dwelling place. Exodus 15:11-13

I feel so shallow, Adonai, as if I am just scratching the surface of your depths, as when I look at the thousands of stars in the night sky and realize there are billions behind each one.

We are at the Jaffa Gate and the history of Christ Church, Herod’s Tower and the ministry of patient years pours over me. But you whisper, “Wait, I have more for you.” I sense a cosmic chuckle in my soul as you tease my curiosity. As we walk the alleyways of this ancient place, a friend of a friend appears. He seems to be a “nice guy” and it turns out this man of 60+ years is a student at the Jerusalem University College.

I’m instantly aware he has knowledge beyond my scope and so I go into intensive listening mode. He’s humble and doesn’t think himself adequate to the teaching task, his next words seem almost a push off. “There’s a small museum right here next to the church. It’s only one room, but I recommend it.”

Is he trying to dismiss or to deliver? Is this some ploy to acquire a donation to the affiliated university? Only one way to find out Lord… - As we enter the museum, I’m not impressed. Before me there is a decent relief model of the old city from the time period approximately 30 years after your time of dwelling here. To my left in a corner is another model of the current structure, the Al-Aqsa mosque now covering the site of what once was the first and second Hebrew Temples.

Another man comes in and introduces himself with his first name only, explaining that he’s from North Carolina. What is he doing here? What qualifies him?” I wonder. You answer through his next words… “-Why is there a church on these grounds with no permanent Christian symbols?” Then in perfect Rabbinical style, he responds to his own question, “Remember who ruled this area in the 1500s. The Ottomans. He then proceeded to ask more leading questions and to answer leading to more enlightenment.

The bottom line that this subtle Southerner teaches us is that You YHWH, have been quietly injecting Your agents into this land to impact others, mostly by quiet, consistent testimony through selfless acts of service. Not that Your ways are surprising to me any longer, but Your means certainly do intrigue. Mankind tried to obliterate Your people and Your city from all history.

But You, God, utilizing the desires of the Ottoman Caliphate who wanted to map the subterranean foundations of the mosque which occupied Your holiest earthly site, engaged the services of a European engineer who had the skills necessary to crawl under and physically survey beneath the revered ground. He was (and remains) the only non-Muslim ever allowed to do so in modern history.

Who would have thought that such an obscure act in the middle 19th Century would impact us today? That engineer discovered a miraculous labyrinth of arches catacombimbing and supporting today’s structures. Who would know that the model of that special structure would be spirited away to some dark vault in Vienna until four years ago, ultimately to be rediscovered and donated to this tiny nondescript gallery where its secrets are now revealed to thousands on a yearly basis? It reveals to believers and sceptics alike in these times that the ground beneath the current structure was not filled in with rock and dirt as previously thought, but was actually an ingeniously constructed support structure that must harbor a treasure trove of spiritual and physical history.

Why is this such an epiphany to me Lord? Why is light shown into a dismal basement causing my spiritual skin to tingle? It’s evidence of Your greater work unfolding. It reveals to me what prophesy promised long ago: that a new temple based on the ancient model can and will exist. Don’t get me wrong, Lord, I’m not overly thrilled by the idea of a new temple structure – there are prophecies about it that don’t present a pretty picture. But as I gaze at the model, I understand how it demonstrates the accuracy of what

You have planned for Your city and the world. It suggests that we are creeping ever closer to a moment when a dark force will make a bold move to discredit You, and it serves as yet one more precursive validation that you, Jesus will finally return to vanquish your people.

I know, Lord. What seems significant to me may not speak to others. No matter. I see You moving in this historical drama I’ve just been privy to. I comprehend how the words of writers long ago match up to the facsimiles laid out before my eyes. It all speaks to one conclusion, your eminent return is quite accurately and articulately predicted.

I walk out of this profoundly insightful place, not in any way depending on the information that has been downloaded. But I am acutely grateful for it. My faith is now supported by a newly unearthed foundation and by Your patient ethereal hand, my testimony of Your great kingdom building program is further strengthened. So encouraged, I testify. Once again, Your plan far ahead of mankind’s complete understanding, serves Your purpose and our benefit.

B’aruk Ata,

Mark C.

11-11-2016 Spirit Of Nations

Shout out praises to the LORD, all the earth! Worship the LORD with joy! Enter his presence with joyful singing! Acknowledge that the LORD is God! He made us and we belong to him; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give him thanks! Praise his name! For the LORD is good. His loyal love endures, and he is faithful through all generations.

Psalm 100:1-5 

Today was most definitely a highlight, a “keeper”. And as typical, it started with an inconvenient accident. I’ve become alert to the fact that when things don’t go exactly as I have planned (or want), you are preparing me for a wonderful change. Here we are in Israel, in one of my favorite places on the planet - Gennesaret, more familiarly known by it’s Biblical title, the Sea of Galilee. We are preparing for a trip onto the waters in a vessel captained by a Christian brother who takes people out to worship with songs and praise. This in itself is a fantastic moment, but it is made more so by the fact that our small group will be sharing the sail with a larger group of French believers. The opportunity to share our faith in you with the faithful of another country is something that I’ve been anticipating for many weeks. We have not met this group before and I’m excited about communing in our love for you.

But when we arrive at the boat, we’re told the French group has not shown up. It turns out they are behind schedule and so they / we will only be able to worship on the water together for a mere 30 minutes – a blink of an eye when it comes to such spiritual matters. None the less we hope to make the most of the moment and when they arrive, we greet them warmly. They return the welcome in a familiar way that is hard to explain to those who don’t share our faith in You, the God that desires forgiveness in relationship. As we push off from the dock, Captain Daniel calls me over for a private conversation and explains, “Mark, I’m so sorry for the shortness of the trip. I would like for your group to stay on the boat after this ride is completed and join us also for the next group.”

What a gracious proposal. We have just been given expanded time in the place where you sailed with your disciples and, just as you offered them additional exclusive time together, we now will have extra time to bow before you, wrapped in the panorama of perpetual history. I stand on the bow of the boat staring first into the rich green waters and thinking a strange thought. I want so much to jump in and soak in the liquid moment. A voice of one of my companions next to me interrupts my private reflection, “I’ll jump in if you do.” I am delighted by the realization that she had shared the exact desire as I and it makes me wonder how many others over countless trips had considered the same? My gaze then lifts up to the surrounding countryside, the mountains and the fertile fields that embrace the shore that frame our encounter. A hazy blue sky canopies us as a hoopa, reminding me of your planned wedding to us. This is one more beautiful rehearsal that you have allowed me. Thank you, Jesus .

The sun bounces off the waters onto another canopy, the one that covers the boat, allowing your light to dance in ripples over us. And the wind whispered your presence. I am as near to you as I have ever been and I want to freeze the warm moment. It is then that I realize there is more going on here. Your French believers are singing a lovely song. I had studied the language in school and so I actually catch some simple phrases, including, “Notre spiriteux d’accord Jesus, avec tu—Our spirits agree (belong) Jesus, with you.”

It is such a perfect moment, made more so by a Frenchman, I never caught his name, who started talking passionately about another special moment. Again I catch snippets, “Orage – Storm, Alarme – Alarm, Sauve-nous – Save us”, and I instantly realize he is rendering the story of your disciples panicking during the storm and then waking you to calm the very waters on which we now sail. Then more animated words, “Pierre - Peter, Main- Hand,” combined with a simple gesture of reaching down with the orator’s palm, portrays the tale of Peter’s peril when trying to walk with you on the water, and your pulling him up to stand by you. I can see it all, Lord. I am washed in the tears of your translation. I understand now that it isn’t some secret spiritual language you give us to set us apart from one another. Instead you encourage us to gather in common, joining of revelation, so that, no matter the dialect, we all can experience your story, our story unfolding.

As the boat returns, I think, what can be better than this? - a silly question to ask in your presence, for as we bid our new spiritual brothers and sisters adieux, the next crew loads on. Now we are in the presence of Chileans, Latinos from my old home-base of Houston Texas!), and other Hispanic believers from parts unknown. Here I am less confident in my dialectic abilities, yet the immediate affection we receive from this group, bond us one to the other. We sing together familiar praise songs, they in Spanish, we in English, sometimes all joining in a common chorus of Hebrew and even a touch of Portuguese taught to us by Capitan Daniel. So many nationalities and languages, so much heart, such a Great God…Gadol Adonai! There is much more you provide in this day, fodder for many more conversations between us, you teaching me in your language and with your graceful gestures, just how much more I have to look forward to in our common relationship.

Meanwhile, I bask in this revealing and smile with understanding that you have etched the picture and the memory into the depths of me. Praise you for your continued love poured into me by a communion that any who know you will also understand and, I pray, appreciate.

Todah Rabah—Thank you so much,

Mark C.