One of the most impressive things about Jesus is His willingness to enter intense human suffering for us! It’s still what impresses me most about Him. His teachings are amazing, but His model of entering into other’s suffering may be the highest mark of His character. And sets Him apart.

From Gethsemane—He is truly intimately acquainted with all our sufferings. He is that type of God; one who enters through our particular suffering. Because He suffered so intensely—isolation, rejection, and physical abuse etc-He is able to empathize with all of our human suffering.

This is not a God who is floating above human suffering, but one who enters it fully, so can be met in our daily sufferings. That’s one thing Gethsemane teaches us. Jesus was a suffering God, who entered into ours. He knows human suffering, so can be met through it.

He did not, even when given a chance, avoid it, but rather dove into death to overcome it. That’s still one of the most powerful things about His Life on earth to me. He is a God who can fully relate to us in our pain and sorrow.

He knows racism, poverty, physical sickness etc. He is intimately acquainted with any sort of pain we know. That’s a meet-able God! One who is knowable, because He knows us!

Jesus as symbol completer:

The other take away this week, was that Jesus was very Jewish, and a completer of Jewish symbols. This may seem very obvious to some, but becomes more embedded in your knowing, when walking around where He did His thing on earth.

Even in the Garden of Gethsemane, a peaceful ancient wind blown olive tree textured space just across from the temple mount, which really is a power spot in His ministry, a place where He conversed intimately with His Father, and drew down strength to finish His tasks, He prayed facing the temple. Of course, in His case, He was ultimately facing The Father’s Heart, but He lived out His spirituality within and in response to, and completer of Jewish symbolic frames. This become overtly obvious when there.

His Life, death burial and resurrection all occurred within the lines of prophetic or living Judaism, and its geo-spirituality. Good reminder which offers hope that all the symbols of Judaism will one day be completed even more fully in the future! All of Isaiah and Ezekiel’s visions of completion of each symbol in the future, become more assured by watching how He completed symbols while here. The Author and Finisher of all symbols.

That “stone of agony” for instance, that He prayed on by the garden, was facing and had a clear view of the temple, as did the garden itself on the mount of Olives. He often pointed to that place to teach from, as He taught using concrete symbols around Him, as all Jews did. He taught through symbols that His audience was familiar with. Things around them took on new layers of meaning–wild olive trees versus cultivated ones became teachings about Jews and Gentiles, and their future relations.

The geo-spirituality of Jesus ministry was Jewish. And He was working within their symbolic system, helping bring their symbols to wholeness or completion.

Good to meditate on Him as a completer of the Mosaic (Jewish) Law this week-the incarnation embodiment of it! The Author and Finisher. The bread which became The Bread of Life. How He completed all the old symbols. Jesus was a completer of symbols. Container of the whole Law, who wrote them in our hearts, as Jeremiah predicted.

Nice meditation this week, as I roam around Jerusalem with Him, the one who was held up like the snake in the wilderness, for the healing of the people, and completed all the other symbols as well. Wine becomes His blood. The literal symbols become embodied in Him. He ingest and completes them. This was His methodology. He was incarnating the Jewish symbols to make the Word, Living. He was the communication of God. All symbols are meant to communicate. He was that communication. And God chose to use Jewish symbols to communicate through.

Something about knowing that He completed those older symbols, gives me trust that He will complete all the symbols in the end. For He is a trustworthy symbol finisher, a great Master artist in other words, who will finish His Body of work! The Father has placed a symbolic level of meaning in everything around us. The Jews named theirs, and Jesus completed them. And will do so in the future, was what I left with after walking around in his steps while here.

But while here, He clearly worked to complete the Jewish symbols. Jesus was Jewish. And was completing the symbolic dimension of their faith while here, and worked within that symbolic framework. And will complete those symbols in the end!

Someone asked me, should we fear going to Jerusalem….thoughts on and from Jerusalem as a city and person:

What Rabbi Greenberg calls, “the unafraid streets of Jerusalem” are a miracle in themselves, given her true layered and long story. That is, the fact that we can all walk around sharing markets, and enjoying the same full moon settling on white stoned rooftops, is a wonder.

The fact that the Muslim holy days (fridays) come a day before Shabbot (saturdays), come a day before Christian services (Sundays); and that the church bells are ringing as evening chants and daily prayers layer into a daily mid air tapestry which make up her atmosphere. Her symbolic simultaneity alone is a miracle in itself.

Her religious and secular streams from each religion, and her more orthodox expressions all somehow walk with or around with one another daily. Perhaps, that is one of her miracles. How she holds all that in her womb or heart at once.

I experience that daily here in a city which one would think would be contantly terrified, rather than just often disgruntled and conflicted; instead, you find very human markets, schools, holy sites, and rich daily conversations as you wander. Everyone, of course, has strong opinions, and shares them openly, but there is something more than mere co-existence here. There is a strange and often strained type of communion in her streets. Something unspoken, or sounded between the lines. Some tone of hope.

Each city has her own challenges. Some are more overtly religious, like Tiberias, some, like Tel Aviv, more secular humanistic problems to solve. This one seems to have all the world’s city’s problems and triumphs at once. And they walk around together. And talk and often yell at one another, but are all here.

There is a difference of course between religious traditions, and faith or spirituality. Spirituality is how you actually live daily, and dialogue with all that is around you. Spirituality is what your heart is actually soaking in, or in union with; and it’s fruits are made obvious by daily exchange with others. What tree you’ve planted within, will eventually be revealed by the outer fruits, as the books teach us! The fruits of the Spirit have already been named.

And if you don’t take sides, but try to listen well and empathize, to Love in short, almost every point of angle of humanity exist in one conversation. It is a very human city, despite it’s intense unconscious and more overt ongoing conflicts. That it continues daily is in itself a miracle of possibility.

One thing is clear, Jerusalem is not fearful. Being in constant conflict is not necessarily living in fear was one take away from my walks this week through the winding ancient labyrinthian streets and conversations of, in and with Jerusalem.

She is a story spoken in silence.
This city talks directly to me with just it’s ancient eyes alone. Everyone contains multitudes here. Glances alone are layered in symbols, just as the buildings are. And that’s before anyone speaks. Even this silence in our eyes here is a tell and a long tale worth exchanging forever. Maybe as her poets say, the whole world is contained in her eyes alone. And she is like a place you never left, but were always moving towards somehow, and peering out from… Regardless, the map home is written in her ancient eyes, stories spoken in silence, as if yesterday were today and tomorrow, or perhaps forever.

Galilee:

His Name is written everywhere here, even on water, as it is elsewhere, but perhaps the font is larger or just bolder here. Or the Voice is nearer the Source. Or the ripple is more a wave. Jesus hometown region. His zone. His cousins seem still around up here!

Regardless, the pastel ink of galilee is His Peace. The stones and tiny boats here recall often. And it’s very easy to still hear into the present, His Voice on the waters even before things were written down.

Easy to hear Him talking from Capernaum, walking backwards in her synagogue, as we do in holy places, eating at Peter’s house, or talking at cross roads, or out here even on the sea, when all is silent at dawn, the waters still, still. It’s easy to hear Him here on the sea of Galilee, still talking.

He walked around here, talked to His friends, ate fish, taught and did miracles. This was his hometown. He was also a man, Galilee says this morning, so we can be actual friends. People still tell stories about Him. How quickly the stories traveled from here. They were in Ireland by night when i first heard them. The stories went everywhere, but here it feels like just yesterday when he was here. At least from the water.

She is like a mother and lover at once to me.
Once you encounter her, she never gets out of your skin.
You hold up even a postcard at sunset before her, and squint, and it melts
into view before You.
I missed you in my core. My bones have been magnetized towards you
since we met long ago, and perhaps forever.
I missed you pronouncing my inner name though.
The way you whisper is loud in me. Back then,
I used to wander for days with no destination
but to know you better. Slept on rooftops, parks
wherever you were. Lived in hostels, left you my best marbles, and never wanted to leave. I had to, to finish my story. Sorry. Parts of me surely
regret ever having left. Especially this evening as you say yes
to me again.
I wanted to know each veil of you. I never came close.
I was inadequate to behold you fully. I think i got
to maybe 13 back then, i know there must be at least 613. but i imagine more,
as the prayers continue tonight. Our loud attempts to reach upwards
through you.
I slept everywhere all these years,
but always with you. When together I worked in your markets,
in whitestone alleyways, not knowing each stone well then. I taught your children my
language, and tried to love them into place. But…
Even when away, i was always sleeping
with you. All the other nations i fell in love with
paled in your light. What was hovering inside you
never wavered in me.
Each city i lived in was a tent in your hair. A chime
hanging on you ears… But,
none of them compared, Love.
And just so you know
i wasn’t interested in many others
It was always you I saw in everything Jerusalem.
The rest was comparison. You have been my pattern.
To return and hear men singing in chants and prayers and readings tonight- each
evening, to me is an obvious attempt at loving you, brings joy to me. Just that we
try to express what you contain. Yet…
We fail to express you well. We stutter, even in loving the nations.
Yet, that we try, somehow, still must bless you.
You are the endless perfume on all our skins
I don’t worship places, but of these two Jerusalem’s you are!
I pick you both to know. And if I die into you, or somehow inside of you,
that you know you are seen loved adored,
would be enough for me.
And it’s just so good to see you again friend.
Friendship has no distance. I held you inside
as long as i remember now. I sheltered myself
in your cacophonous evening song, until
I knew my name. And once i did
i decided to return and say thanks.
So henini, here i am again, offering what i have left of my love
to you, Jerusalem—you fragrant carousel of all being.
You exotic grounded lover and namer of us all. You heart of the Father of us all.
You home.
It is like when you have been married a long time on earth
and meet that person in heaven-that look you exchange of knowing
is what i feel most towards you tonight, Jerusalem.
So, here’s my postcard of you
I hope it melts into you
and brings you glory.
I always wanted to be a postcard
sent from all nations
to you, maybe with a funky font
which brought you unexpected joy;
and together we may still become incense
at midnight, wafting upwards as a pleasant
fragrance to Father. With an unseen stamp
which reads Yes and Peace
in the ink of Love.
And I know you are just a city (and i love that part too!)
and yet you’re more. And we all know it.

If my gifts, strange as they are, can keep one person from feeling suicidal tonight—that would be my version of success in life! I have no brand, my brand is Life! Let’s give Life to one another friends. It’s short, and so very beautiful! Life’s a gift. Happy to have helped someone walk, or at least, step towards it today.

Distracted by Grace today!

Forgive me for being distracted by Grace! It happens to me often, when talking to folks, or even considering myself.

She’s just so beautiful! Sometimes, it’s good to be interrupted from your own program or programing, by the Presence of Grace towards us all. So kind, gentle and caring. And so full of Life for us each.

Eventually, we become more useful, by becoming useless; as we get out of our own way, and let something Higher shine through us. Daily death and entering into lived Sabbath is the practice of becoming useless and therefore useful. Are you willing to become useless in order to become more useful to Love. To lose yourself to find your Self, in other, wiser words. To take up our cross, among other things, is to dissolve and be formed and named and nuanced by His. Lose yourself, to find it. Find our true selves, by losing ourselves in His Life. Find our names by allowing His to eclipse, and therefore reveal ours. That’s the most basic way of finding identity.

how long
your poem goes
is less important
than it’s portent-that is
what it carries of Life beyond you
for others.