A Not-So-Perfect 10: A Closer Look at The (Twelve?) Commandments

Today is a Jewish holiday called Shavuot; a day in which Jews celebrate the revelation of the Torah, including the Ten Commandments, to Moses on Mount Sinai. For reasons that are still a little fuzzy to me, Jews in Israel celebrate this holiday by hanging palm branches in the grocery store, staying up all night studying the Torah, and eating a lot of dairy foods. (Unless they’re Yemeni Jews, in which case they don’t eat dairy at all today.) My best bet is that you’ve never even heard of this holiday; apparently, it’s not so well known outside of Israel. So in honor of your first Shavuot, let’s talk a little about the Ten Commandments in three faith traditions: Jewish, Catholic, and Protestant.

(Here’s a warning: I’m about to go off the theological deep end here. So if you’re not in the mood for a whole bunch of detailed interreligious theological analysis (and my first attempt at an HTML table), how about you go make some delicious traditional food for this holiday instead. Tip: try the blintzes. They’re delicious, I promise.)

Ahem. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Ten Commandments and Austin State Capitol

A few yards northwest of the Texas state capital building in Austin, near the Tyler Rose Garden where I used to sit with a friend and eat my lunch in the spring, sits a large stone plaque of the Ten Commandments. I must have passed it dozens of times, but I never looked that closely at it. While I was a college student in that town in 2005, it came up as the subject of a U.S. Supreme Court Case that ultimately ruled it Constitutional, but other than that I never stopped to look too closely, just like I never looked too closely at the various monuments to veterans and civic organizations and volunteer firemen elsewhere on the grounds. The Ten Commandments are often heralded as basic moral code and a foundation of commonality between Jews and Christians. But do we really have them in common? The answer, interestingly enough, is both yes and no.

As it turns out, taking a closer look now, from eight years and 11,000 miles away, the monument on the Texas state capitol grounds really is a work of genius. It manages to reconcile the Jewish, Catholic and Protestant traditions in a single document. But it actually takes twelve Commandments to do so. Let me back up a second.

The Ten Commandments in all three faith traditions are based on a passage that is repeated three different times in slightly varying forms in the Old Testament books of Exodus and Deuteronomy. The first of these occurrences, in Exodus 20, reads as follows in the New American Bible (with the verse designations):

2. I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. 

3. You shall not have other gods beside me. 

4. You shall not make for yourself an idol or a likeness of anything in the heavens above or on the earth below or in the waters beneath the earth; 

5. you shall not bow down before them or serve them. For I, the LORD, your God, am a jealous God, inflicting punishment for their ancestors’ wickedness on the children of those who hate me, down to the third and fourth generation

6. but showing love down to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments. 

7. You shall not invoke the name of the LORD, your God, in vain. For the LORD will not leave unpunished anyone who invokes his name in vain. 

8. Remember the sabbath day—keep it holy. 

9. Six days you may labor and do all your work, 

10. but the seventh day is a sabbath of the LORD your God. You shall not do any work, either you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your work animal, or the resident alien within your gates. 

11. For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them; but on the seventh day he rested. That is why the LORD has blessed the sabbath day and made it holy. 

12. Honor your father and your mother, that you may have a long life in the land the LORD your God is giving you. 

13. You shall not kill. 

14. You shall not commit adultery. 

15. You shall not steal. 

16. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. 

17. You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, his male or female slave, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.

As you can see, there is a little problem here. The so-called “Ten Commandments” are actually a prose essay that contains 14 imperative (or “commanding”) verbs in the English translation. It is not a succinct list neatly rounded out to ten laws delineated with Roman Numerals, as they often appear. But the Bible itself, in Exodus 34:28, refers to this passage as the “ten words of the covenant” or the “ten commandments” without telling us exactly how this prose piece is supposed to be divided up into a nice round list of Ten. Also, keep in mind that chapter and verse designations in the Bible were a medieval addition and are unrelated to the commandments themselves.

Texas Capital Ten Commandments

Now take a moment to look a little closer at that monument on the Texas capital grounds. As I mentioned before, if you count them, you’ll realize that there are actually 12 commandments on this list, and they’re not enumerated.

For clarity’s sake, I will re-list the 12 statements on the tablet here and then explain how this tablet reflects the differences in the Jewish, Catholic and Protestant faith traditions. Here is the list:

  1. I am the Lord thy God.
  2. Thou shalt have no other gods before me.
  3. Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven images.
  4. Thou shalt not take the Name of the Lord thy God in vain.
  5. Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.
  6. Honor thy father and mother, that thy days may be long on the land which thy Lord hath given thee.
  7. Thou shalt not kill.
  8. Thou shalt not commit adultery.
  9. Thou shalt not steal.
  10. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.
  11. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s house.
  12. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his cattle, nor anything that is thy neighbor’s.

The ingenuity of this monument is that it gives all 12 statements equal weight without trying to twist them into an even Ten enumerated Commandments as each faith tradition does.

Let’s start at the top. In Jewish teaching, “I am the Lord thy G-d” (considered something of a general prologue to the Commandments by Christians) is interpreted as a commandment itself: the commandment of knowing that there is a God. This is considered the first Commandment, and in many ways, the most important.  And, actually, it is considered to be the first of 613 Commandments, not just Ten.

In Judaism, the Mosaic Laws (“Mosaic” as in coming from God through Moses, not as in a larger picture made up of smaller pieces), include 613 mitzvot, or joint commandments-and-blessings spread over the first three books of the Bible. These 613 commandments include the Ten Commandments, but from a Jewish perspective, referring to the commandments in Exodus 20 as “The Ten Commandments” negates the importance of the other 603 commandments, which include widely varying rules regarding kosher food, daily lifestyle, interpersonal relations, ritual purity and sacrifice, and manners of dress and grooming.

And, interestingly enough, according to Jewish teaching, non-Jews are not actually bound to the Ten Commandments as a universal moral code (as it is often viewed in Christianity). Jews have a separate universal moral code known as the Seven Noahide Laws (or laws that camefrom God through Noah) that all “children of Noah,” that is, all humankind, not just Jews, are expected to follow. These include laws regarding prohibition of idolatry, prohibition of murder, prohibition of theft, prohibition of sexual immorality, prohibition of blasphemy, prohibition of eating flesh taken from an animal while it was still alive (often expanded to include any form of animal cruelty), and a requirement that courts of law be established. So, there is a bit of an overlap, but not entirely.

In regards to the way that the rest of the Commandments are broken up to turn twelve basic statements into an even Ten Commandments, here, for clarity’s sake (in my first attempt at creating an HTML table: Ta-da!), I will show you how each faith tradition pairs them up, followed by a more detailed explanation. The numbers in the chart correspond to my numbered re-listing of the 12 general statements as they appear on the monument in Texas.

Commandment            Jewish            Catholic            Protestant           
First 1 1,2,3 1,2
Second 2,3 4 3
Third 4 5 4
Fourth 5 6 5
Fifth 6 7 6
Sixth 7 8 7
Seventh 8 9 8
Eighth 9 10 9
Ninth 10 11 10
Tenth 11,12 12 11,12

    

After regarding the first statement as the First Commandment, Jews then link the second and third items (“no other gods before me” and “no graven images”) as the Second Commandment, as well as linking the twelfth and thirteenth items (“not covet thy neighbor’s house” and “not covet thy neighbor’s wife…”) as a single Commandment against any form of coveting. This forms an even Ten.

In Protestant tradition, the first and second statements are linked to create the First Commandment, the third stands alone, as it does in Judaism, and the eleventh and twelfth statements are linked into a single Commandment as in Judaism.

Meanwhile, Catholics link the first, second and third items as the First Commandment, while splitting up the eleventh and twelfth items into two separate Commandments, in order to delineate the difference between the sins involved in coveting the two different things: the sins of lust and objectification in coveting your neighbor’s wife and the sins of envy and greed in coveting your neighbor’s house, servants or belongings. (And interestingly enough, Lutheran tradition, the oldest Protestant tradition, follows the same form.)

It is a common misconception outside the Catholic faith that Catholics have conveniently eliminated the “no graven images” Commandment because of their requirement that imagery of “the Lord, of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and of the Saints, in accordance with most ancient tradition of the Church, should be displayed for veneration by the faithful” in every church (see #318 here). That commandment is definitely not eliminated, it is just lumped together with the other two under the heading of “proper worship of God” and is often truncated in simplified forms, the way that all traditions truncate the commandments to shorter forms in simplified versions. (The topic of imagery in Catholic churches is a complicated discussion I’ll save for another day, but you can read here for more information.)

The Catholic Church also teaches that each of the sins outlined in the Ten Commandments is an “umbrella sin” that can manifest in many different ways. For example, when the Bible tells you to not bear false witness against your neighbor, that includes any kind of lie, even ones without a direct victim, like your neighbor. To Catholics, the Eighth Commandment, not to lie, covers everything from cheating on a test to needlessly embellishing a story. Similarly, the Commandment against adultery covers a wide variety of sins related to chastity, from pornography use to sex outside marriage or using birth control, and the Commandment against killing covers everything from abortion to killing someone’s social status or friendships through gossip. For this reason, guided Catholic Examinations of Conscience are often quite overwhelmingly detailed.

Catholics also have a number of other sources as guides for sin; for starters, the Seven Capital (or “Deadly”) Sins (pride, greed, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth) and the Seven Cardinal (or Catholic) Virtues (prudence, justice, fortitude, temperance, faith, hope, and charity). But the Ten Commandments are considered more important.

However, all Christians hold as most important the Commandment that Jesus issued in Matthew 22: “‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ He said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.’”

Catholics particularly take these words of Jesus to heart. For this reason, when the Ten Commandments are actually pictured in Catholic imagery, they are often depicted on two stone tablets, as in the biblical story and in Jewish and Protestant tradition, but rather than putting an even five commandments on each tablet, there are three on the first tablet and seven on the second tablet. This shows how the Ten Commandments line up in parallel to Jesus’ ultimate Commandment: the first three regard loving God with all your heart, soul and mind, and the following seven regard loving your neighbor as yourself.

So, regardless of how you split up the twelve commandments into the Perfect 10, we all have the same general interests at heart. Love God, and love one another.

But, here, I’m going to add a Thirteenth Commandment:

13. Seriously, try the blintzes. You won’t regret it.

Happy Shavuot!

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In the Home the Homemaker Made

Me and my mom... and her mom... and her mom...

Me and my mom… and her mom… and her mom…

When our friend Phillip was staying with us for a few weeks back in March, he left for a couple days to go to the desert for a new Israeli friend’s birthday weekend. When he returned, hot and dusty from the desert and the traveling, I took his pack, set out a basket for his laundry, turned on the water heater for a shower, got him some tea and cookies, and sat across from him to demand all the details of his adventures. He smiled at me over his tea. “You know, this is kind of like coming home,” he said. “It’s almost like you’re my mom.”

I thought it was a little bit of an odd thing to say, but then I caught myself on a recent Jesus Trail hike following everyone around to make sure they were all wearing sunscreen. Then I caught myself offering relationship advice to a young friend I had literally just met, someone who just needed someone to listen. And in an episode that has now been immortalized in legend, when a neighbor (that lived alone) briefly mentioned his flooded apartment on Facebook a few months ago, Rodolfo was still saying, “Oh, poor guy,” while I was already halfway out the door with a mop and bucket.

In the past few months, Rodolfo and I have taken in more than one far-fetched acquaintance in need of a place to hang his hat in Jerusalem: two Argentineans and an obscure friend-of-a-friend from Texas. They all arrived as strangers, and they all left as a part of the family.

Another new friend remarked recently that Rodolfo and I are good at taking people under our wings, that we have a home with a very “good vibe,” and that we know how to make people feel at home, even if they’re on their own in a strange land. Here in Jerusalem, with green army men, ceasefire celebrations, and, of course, limoncello to unite us, we have knitted an odd assortment of beautiful people together into a new, beautiful, eclectic and eccentric little family away from family.

Norita's Farewell Party

And even though she is thousands of miles away and has never met any of them, and has yet to even set foot in Jerusalem, I thank my mother, Taria, for all of this. She is the matriarch of this beautiful family that she has never even met. And here’s why.

Jessa graduation

My mama has always been the kind of person to pitch in when help was needed, to offer everything she had, even if it was small, and to use her boundless creativity and talents to solve problems and alleviate the needs of others. She is open and generous and loving, even to people she has just met. (I remember one time that I was a little taken aback when, moments after meeting a friend of mine, she called her “Sweetie,” like she sometimes calls me, until I realized it actually made perfect sense. Her daughters’ friends have always been her daughters, too.) The doors of her home are always wide open, and she loves celebrations and high spirits, particularly if they’re in her home, and even if the people there are people she has never met before.

As a military wife, there was little else for my mom to do for years but be a serial volunteer, a mother, and a homemaker. But what a home she made; a home for all humankind. (And for more than her fair share of animals, too.)

I remember one time, years ago, that some family friends found an escaped parakeet on the point of death, exhausted and half starved, in a store parking lot and brought it directly to our house in the hopes that my mother would know what to do with it. Of course she did; our family was famous for rescuing strays. We nursed it back to health and it too became a part of our family, until it was completely restored to health and she gave it away to the young son of another friend, a kid who desperately wanted a pet.

In the course of my life, my mother has been brought a number of other “parakeets,” and she has always nurtured them, made them a part of the family and sent them back into the world better than they came. There was the breast cancer survivor who needed a place to stay for a few months to get on her feet, so my mom took her in as a roommate and another acquaintance became a part of our family. Throughout my childhood, our Thanksgiving table was always open to a number of young “homeless” Air Force guys saving up their vacation time for Christmas. Then, as a college student, I started bringing home a contingent of lonely foreign and out-of-state students to our home for the holidays. These beautiful people from the farthest stretches of the Earth also became part of our family. Even this past Christmas, during our limited time with my family when Rodolfo and I were visiting home from Jerusalem, when my mother heard that three of Rodolfo’s colleagues back in Austin had absolutely no plans for Christmas, she insisted they come to our home, where we stuffed them with great food, played card games with them, and sent them home with heaping plates of leftovers.

Christmas with Harper

Mom and Harper, the newest Taiwanese member of our family, at Christmas dinner

For my mother, the more is always, literally, the merrier.

I am not a mother myself (yet), but I desperately want to be, and for that reason, Mother’s Day makes me a little sad. (Okay, maybe more than just a little sad.) But then I looked a little closer at my own mother, and realized I have no reason to be sad today.

Abs graduation

My mother bore two children, nurtured them, built a family around them, and sent them out into the world as better people for it, and for that we celebrate her today. That work took around 17 or 18 years for each of us (and, in many ways, is still ongoing), but… she does the same thing in a matter of minutes or hours or days with people she meets regularly. And she cares for even more people through her own quiet, private prayer and concern. She has a much wider circle than she will ever know.

And, without even realizing it, so do I, because of the beautiful example she has given me my whole life.

I may not have any children, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t be a mother to the world, a mother to anyone who needs it at the moment, whether or not they have a mother of their own. In the same way that St. Thérèse of Lisieux became a mother of the world’s missions by praying for them without ever leaving her cloister, I continue to be a spiritual mother to a number of children that may or may not even be aware of my care.

I pray for every passing ambulance, overwhelmed mother and distraught teenager I see. I pray for dozens of people that I’m sure have long forgotten me: beautiful, boisterous children I met on mission trips and while leading children’s church, children I once babysat that may even have children of their own by now, my Longhorn Awakening children and godchildren, and girls that I have given all but life and limb for in attempt to mentor, counsel and inspire them at Girls State.

Colonia kids

I am even a spiritual mother to children I have never met: to Angel David and Daniela, two Ecuadorean children that Rodolfo and I sponsor through Compassion International and the Christian Foundation for Children and Aging, and to the hundreds of beautiful children in need of families on Reece’s Rainbow.

I am also a proud member of what childless author Elizabeth Gilbert calls the “Auntie Brigade” in Committed: A Love Story. Many of my beloved babies have their own loving mothers, but they still need me to take them swimming, to send them postcards, to make them tinfoil armor, to kiss their boo-boos and to help them feed the turtles and rescue the stranded worms, toads and bugs.

Me and BabyA

They say it takes a village to raise a child. We are, all of us, that village.

And today, Mother’s Day in the United States, is a day to celebrate that village: all the mothers in the world; those that have given us life and those who continue to give us life in so many important ways.

I give thanks to God for my wonderful mother-in-law, Luly, a strong and creative woman who loves me as her own daughter and should be sainted for her work in raising four strapping, boisterous, brilliant, beautiful boys to adulthood. Her oldest son is one of the kindest, gentlest and most generous people I have ever met, and one of the main reasons that our home is so full of life and strangers-turned-friends. In many ways, she is also a matriarch of our odd little cobbled-together family on the far side of the world. (Gracias, Luly, por ser como una madre para mí. Y gracias por el mejor regalo de mi vida: tu Rodolfito J. Sé que ya te decimos Feliz Día de la Madre hace unos días, en el Día de la Madre Mexicana, pero ya como tienes una hija americana, tengo que decirte también Feliz Día de la Madre Americana. Y muchas felicidades.)

Pablo graduation

And I give thanks for my own “Auntie Brigade,” related by blood, related by marriage, or related by love alone, for the love, the support, the care packages, the family stories and the late nights playing Bubsy that they have given me all my life.

Me and Aunties

To the mothers of my friends and to the friends of my mother who offered me a place at their tables, in their lives and in their hearts; to my peers, friends, mentors and loved ones that have cared for me in any time of need; and to that woman who saw me crying on the city bus once, years ago, and was brave enough to reach out to me, a stranger, and reassure me that God had a wonderful plan for my life: thank you.

To my own sister, who once gave me a Mother’s Day card and was only half joking about it; I’m sorry for sometimes “mothering” you more than “sistering” you. I know that you know that I do it out of love. And I know you worry and care about me too, and for that I thank you.

To my dear friends with the precious children that I love as my own: thank you for letting me be an auntie and sharing your beloved babies.

And to every feminine genius; to all the world’s mothers and the aunties and the sisters and the nuns and the consecrated women and the childless women, to all the mothers-to-be, the mothers-never-to-be, and the empty nesters out there: thank you for being a mother to humanity in so many important ways that have nothing to do with biology.

And, of course, to my own mama: the mother of two and mother of many. Some happy day I will make you a grandmother (which some say is even better than being a mother). Someday you will wish a Happy Mother’s Day back to me. But until then, allow me to speak for myself, for my sister, and for the thousands of other lives that you have nurtured, touched and changed through the power of love:

Mom kiss

Thank you from us all. And Happy Mother’s Day.

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Quick Takes: Manly Flowers, Paper Marbling and Reggae Jews

Paper Garden(Photo: Smithsonian)

— 1 —

Have you heard of ebru, the Asian art of paper marbling? Though it probably didn’t originate in Turkey, it is a huge deal there. I saw a demonstration of it in Austin at the Raindrop Turkish House a few years back, and during our recent trip to Istanbul, I was reminded of and inspired by this amazing art form. Watch this video to see how it’s done by master Turkish artisan Seyit Uygur.

Apparently, ebru is a big thing right now, but it is really difficult and messy, and, if I remember correctly, somehow involves animal fat, so if you’re feeling adventurous, try this gorgeous simplified version using nail polish from the brilliant mind of Jasmine over at Scissors Paper Stone.

— 2 —

My sister (Thanks, Abs!) recently sent me a really interesting article about a mysterious Bronze Age structure, twice the size of Stonehenge, that they have found at the bottom of the Sea of Galilee. The Galilee is one of my favorite regions of the country, and I’ve become really interested in archaeology since volunteering on the dig at the Magdala Project last year. Now I’m really interested in underwater archaeology. Might be time to scare up some scuba gear and head up north.

— 3 —

My father-in-law in Ecuador recently sent me this lovely video of a really classy take on a flashmob at a nearby hospital here in Jerusalem. (Gracias, Suegrito!) I think it’s a little funny that a Jewish orchestra at a Jewish institution is playing a selection from The Nutcracker, but the music is lovely and, as always, the spectators’ reactions are priceless.

— 4 —

Photo: Beth, Traveling Through the Stars(Photo: Beth of Traveling Through the Stars)

I just realized that I have spent an inordinate amount of time gawking at gorgeous Dutch flowers online lately. I guess it’s just that time of year. I have a dear friend, Beth, who actually lives in the Netherlands (and blogs over at Traveling Through the Stars) and who recently took her folks to see the Dutch National Flower Show: a place where Dutch people fear to tread. Another blogger I like, Nadia of Love, Live and Garden, recently posted about the flower fields of Holland. And in case you missed this phenomenal showcase of miracles of Creation and places so beautiful you won’t believe they exist, get over there right away (and don’t forget to especially gawk at the colors of the Dutch flower field in the second photo).

— 5 —

Sorry to any male readers that were totally girled out by that whole flower thing in number 4. I’d better up the testosterone around here pretty quick:

manly man

That’s better. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

— 6 —

Thanks for this one goes to Hevel’s post at KosherKola on Jerusalem Day earlier this week and Meg’s comment on my Ascension Day post (and if you haven’t seen Meg’s blog, Held by His Pierced Hands, you need to drop everything and get over there right now). Both reminded me of a lovely Matisyahu song based on the Bible verse I always remember when I stand on that outlook on the Mount of Olives: “If I forget you, Jerusalem, may my right hand forget. May my tongue stick to my palate if I do not remember you.” (Psalm 137)

Have you heard of this musician? (The Wikpedia page on him is worth checking out, if only for the funny story of why we should thank his rabbi for letting him continue to use what he thought was his Jewish name, rather than his actual Jewish name, Feivish Hershel.)  He’s American, a Reconstructionist-Jew-turned-whole-nine-yards-haredi-turned-not, and his music, while undeniably Jewish, is well within the realm of reggae. And he’s a pretty decent beatboxer. (And when I say, “pretty decent,” what I really mean is, “Wow, cool!”)

Why are you still reading this? Let’s listen to the song.

(תודה to Hevel for showing me this acoustic version. There’s another great version on Matisyahu’s YouTube page.)

— 7 —

But this particular song “One Day,” is actually my favorite by Matisyahu. I also really like this sweet video set to the song. Isra’s Get Happy Challenge this week is to give something back, so let this help inspire you.

Have a wonderful weekend!

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

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“If I Forget You”

The tinny strains of a Bach concerto split the night wide open.

My eyes blinked and blinked, but for a moment I wasn’t sure that I had even opened them. It was still so dark, the inky pitch dark of the bedroom with the lowered shutter in the silent hours long before the sun rises. No train. No cars. No sound but that tinny Bach concerto. Rodolfo reached over and switched off the alarm.

It was 3 a.m.

We rolled out of bed and put on nice clothes and set off on foot, walking four kilometers through the deserted streets. In the eerie silence, we had the whole of Jerusalem to ourselves.

We found Michal near the shuk, a place always so bustling, now eerily deserted. We walked along the deserted train tracks together.

01 Train track early morning

Who, may you ask, would ever be crazy enough to get up at 3 a.m. to hike four kilometers?

Only a pilgrim.

After catching a van at a local church, a nondescript building surrounded by a high fence in the City Center, followed by a ten minute drive through the dark, we arrived at the Mount of Olives. More specifically, at the Chapel of the Ascension.

02 Entrance

Almost two thousand years ago, forty days after Jesus’ resurrection and the first Easter, He ascended into Heaven from the Mount of Olives. A thousand years and a number of wars later, the bones of a tiny chapel that stands to this day were built by Christian Crusaders on an earlier destroyed Christian site that had commemorated that event. The church was built without a roof, because the Crusaders really took it literally when they said in the New Testament that Jesus “will return in the same way as you have seen Him going into heaven.” (Acts 1:11) The building was seized in a subsequent Muslim invasion, and the new Muslim owners added a mihrab (niche facing Mecca) to the building, in addition to a few other architectural improvements, and turned it into a mosque. (They also added a roof to the building, you know, just in case.)

In time, the mosque was decommissioned to allow for visitors of all faiths and prayers of none. The much larger mosque immediately adjacent was built specifically for Muslim prayer on the site and in reverence of Jesus. (Jesus is also revered as a minor prophet in Islam.) As we entered the courtyard, the strains of the hymns of the previous Mass in Spanish were being drowned out by the pre-dawn call to prayer.

Catholics revere this day, 40 days after Easter every year, as the Feast of the Ascension, and every year, on this day, is the only day of the year that Catholic Mass is allowed to be held in this chapel. (The rest of the time, it remains a decommissioned mosque, open to passing visitors.) And so the Christian community crams as many 30-minute Masses as they possibly can into this one day.

03 Ascension

Since the chapel itself is so small, canvas tents pitched in the churchyard serve as makeshift sacristies for priests to don their vestments and prepare for Mass.

04 Ascension

When it was time for our Mass, we all filed in to the tiny chapel and circled around the temporary altar, oriented to the east. The walls were covered in a rich red tapestry to cover the mihrab and give the usually stark chapel a festive appearance.

05 Ascension Mass

The gathered faithful sat on the floor for the reading of Acts 1 and the Psalm, being careful to avoid the candles set up in the spot revered during the Middle Ages as the place where Jesus’ feet last touched the Earth and left footprints in the dust.

06 Ascension Mass

We almost didn’t notice through the high, small windows, but the sun had begun to rise as we celebrated Jesus’ presence on Earth, His glorious resurrection and ascension into Heaven. And when we departed, another group had taken our place and, within moments, were beginning their own celebration in another language.

07 Ascension Chapel

As a group, we walked to the nearby panoramic lookout and looked west to the amazing view of the Old City at sunrise. The thousands of graves stretch out below for what feels like forever, and then you see the Old City, the golden, eternal city, right before you and looking you in the eye like an old friend. The dawn gives everything a bluish cast. It was a color I had never seen on the city before.

08 Mount of Olives Lookout

Three and a half years ago, Rodolfo and I had stood on this very spot as visitors. He had put his arm around me and we had squinted into the setting sun as I had asked him, “What would you think of living here someday?”

“Oh, no,” he had answered. “Never in a thousand years.”

In a way, I think he was right. It feels like a thousand years since then.

09 Mount of Olives Lookout

I had taken a picture from this observation point and placed it neatly in a photo book; the only photo large enough to take up two pages. I had set it aside as a memory of a dream. I had never thought, in those same thousand years, that I would be standing here today, in the same place, looking over the city from a new angle, in a different color, and calling it home.

“Sing for us a song of Zion!”

But how could we sing a song of the Lord in a foreign land?

If I forget you, Jerusalem, may my right hand forget.

May my tongue stick to my palate if I do not remember you.

(Psalm 137)

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Filed under Catholic Life, Walking Where Jesus Walked

Pomelo Que Quiero: Weird Fruits of Israel, Part 2

Remember this?

shuk shop

A few weeks ago, I went to the shuk, Jerusalem’s open-air market, and bought one of each of the most unusual fruits I could find. And I came home with…

fruit main

I already told you about the passionfruit and the starfruit. Here is the scoop on the other three.

First, the pomelo.

Pomelo 1

The pomelo is a large citrus fruit, very closely related to a grapefruit.

Pomelo 2

The taste is actually quite similar to a grapefruit, but just a little less tart. Delicious!

However, the size was a tad cumbersome. It took us a while to eat it, so I think it’s good to try it once, and it’s probably great in fruit salad or if you’re sharing it with others, but unless you are keen on eating the whole thing in one sitting it’s better to stick with a grapefruit or orange for a snack.

Also, personally, for snacks, I prefer citrus fruit that is easy to peel because that makes it easy to toss in your bag and eat later. I’m a huge fan of oranges and clementines for this reason. The pomelo is definitely not single-serving-sized, and the peel is so thick that you have to cut into it to eat it. Also, almost the whole top fifth of the fruit is inedible; just a big piece of pith that needs to be cut off. But it is delicious and I highly recommend trying it at least once if you have access to them. They are native to Southeast Asia but are widely available in other places around the world.

Pomelo 3

The dragonfruit was by far the most unusual of the fruits I brought home. This oddly colored fruit is a New World fruit from a cactus native to Latin America and is also called a pitaya or pitahaya.

Dragonfruit 1

The appearance of the dragonfruit was really interesting, not only on the outside, but on the inside as well. The color of the inside is as beautiful as the color of the outside.

Dragonfruit 2

To eat it, you cut it in half horizontally and scoop the innards out in one piece with a spoon. It was amazing how easily the innards came out; there was a natural seam (clearly visible in the photo below) between the fruit and the inside of the shell, which actually look the same but have slightly different textures.

Dragonfruit 3

The fruit separates effortlessly from the shell along the seam, and actually pops out in one piece after you loosen it just a little bit.

Dragonfruit 4

We then cut the fruit into cubes and ate it as a snack. The seeds are edible.

The closest fruit I know in terms of both taste and texture is a kiwi. It is just a little more syrupy than a kiwi, and slightly sweeter, almost like a watermelon, but with a nice sweet-tang partnership like a kiwi. If a kiwi were a melon, this is what it would taste like.

Dragonfruit 5

The quince also turned out to be an unusual choice. First of all, it’s the only fruit native to the Middle East of the five I picked, and it is mentioned in the Bible (commonly mistranslated as “apple”) and in Greek mythology. And did you know that, by the time they get soft enough to eat raw, they are already mostly rotten? So the best way to eat quince is to poach them, or boil them in sugar water. Here’s how we cooked them, based on these suggestions. Start by peeling them with a vegetable peeler…

Quince 1

Then cut them in half lengthwise and use a spoon to scoop out the core and seeds. Then chop the remaining fruit into cubes and set aside.

Heat a saucepan of sugar and water, with about half a cup of water and 1.5 TBsp of sugar per quince, over high heat until boiling. Then reduce to medium heat and add the fruit.

Quince 2

Cook the fruit over medium heat until soft, about half an hour. Serve warm or at room temperature. Keeps in cooking liquid up to one week in the refrigerator.

Quince 3

The taste and texture are like the marriage of an apple and a pear, which is not the least bit surprising, since both these fruits are close relatives of the quince on the fruit family tree.

This was a huge hit with Rodolfo, who said next time we should definitely buy more than one to poach!

(And just in case you missed the cultural reference in the title, here you go.)

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Filed under Shopping at the Shuk, What's Cookin'?

Quick Takes: The Backward McSpicy Kolache

Egypt glasses

— 1 —

My heart has been with you in the U.S. lately. There is a lot of bad news coming from my homeland, and I’m particularly praying for the victims and the families of the Boston Marathon bombing and the West, Texas, explosion. Also, a dear friend’s dad died recently after a long illness. My heart aches to be home and give a big round of hugs to everyone there. But if you’re looking for good news about a marathon for a change, how about the very first marathon in the West Bank in the Palestinian Territories? (Thanks, Juliayn.) I also love this simple and beautiful musical tribute to Boston. And what better way to pay tribute to West than with kolaches in honor of the Czech Stop in West? It’s right at the halfway point between Austin and Dallas, so it’s the perfect place to stop to stretch your legs and get a delicious Czech snack and some supersweet tea on the way to Dallas, say, for OU weekend with your BFFs. (Here’s a photo from OU weekend in 2011.)

OU wkd

— 2 —

We also said goodbye to a very good friend this week, but for a much happier reason: our dear Japanese friend and neighbor, Norita, left us for a great new job as an assistant professor at Tokyo University. We gave him a great sendoff this week with some great friends (this time, we had nine different countries represented)! And, of course, there was great food and limoncello (served in those adorable blue recycled glass cups from Egypt shown above and in yesterday’s post)! We will miss you, Norita! Best of luck with all your future adventures!

Norita's Farewell Party

And our Spanish friend Sofia nearly died of happiness when she saw that I had brought a whole can of Cola Cao (Spanish hot cocoa) back from Spain last fall!

Cola Cao

— 3 —

What if real life had an “undo” button? Check out this very cool short video, “Forward,” which was filmed in Jerusalem, on the light rail track through the City Center. If you look closely, you can see our Canadian friends, Jordash and Joanna, riding bikes in circles around the main guy at about 1:16. (Jordash has a black shirt and glasses and Jo has a red shirt and long black braids.) The video recently went viral and has over 4 million views. Our friends are famous!

— 4 —

And Good Friday really already seems like about a year and a half ago, but I really wanted to share this NBC News video clip with you, because I have two more famous friends! Fr. Eamon Kelly, the gentle Irish giant at 0:50, is one of the leaders of our church in Jerusalem, and at at 1:15 you will see my dear friend Rachel, a fellow American and the visitor coordinator of the Magdala Project, the amazing archaeological dig up north on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, where they have found a first century synagogue!

NBC Good Friday Screenshot

(We were in Egypt this year over Good Friday, but we did the whole Holy Week in the Holy Land bit last year. Though we missed all the Holy Week excitement, let me tell you, we did not miss those crowds!)

— 5 —

While at journalism school at UT, I had to take an International Advertising course as a part of my required other-discipline-within-communications coursework. I loved the course, and one thing we learned a lot about was targeted regional messages. For instance, did you know that they have a “McSpicy Paneer” at McDonald’s in India? And that we have kosher McDonald’s in Israel? And that the colors of the Ikea logo, a subtle tribute to the Swedish flag, are different in Norway, where the connection to the Swedish flag is actually noticed? So Ikea stores in Norway are white and red after the Norwegian flag instead.

There are also regionally assigned commercials to go with online video clips, which means that I usually get an earful of Hebrew before watching anything on YouTube. But apparently, NBC doesn’t have this arrangement, because before that Good Friday clip I just showed you, I saw a commercial for a Bacon Cheddar Stuffed Burger at Burger King. Which is literally one of the least kosher foods you can get: not only is it mixing meat and dairy, there is bacon. Bacon! I couldn’t find one of those burgers within a hundred miles if my life depended on it.

— 6 —

jpii sunglasses

Santo Subito? Please please please? Blessed Pope John Paul II, pray for us!

— 7 —

Did you see the new “Greatest Hits” sidebar on the home page? (If you are reading from a reader or an email, you should stop by the actual website to see it.) I am a graphic designer by trade, so I had a lot of fun designing all the buttons, and a lot of fun designing the blue objects collage in yesterday’s post. Also, in case you missed it earlier this week, check out my reflections on the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul and my thoughts on Natural Family Planning over at Carrots for Michaelmas.

For those of you that are still mourning the imminent death of Google Reader, here’s a suggestion. Have you tried Bloglovin’? I’m not really sure how I feel about it yet; particularly since the new beta version they’ve been testing lately looks like an ADD-inducing Pinterest ripoff, but if you’re still looking around for a solution, why don’t you try following Shalom Sweet Home at Bloglovin’?

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

7_quick_takes_button

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Filed under Celebrations, Eating Kosher (or not), Quick Takes

Seasons of Love: My Thoughts on Natural Family Planning

I had a guest post about Natural Family Planning on Carrots for Michaelmas yesterday! Check it out!

(I must warn you ahead of time that this post totally contains the phrase “nonchalantly shouting about cervical mucus.” Twice. In addition to a good healthy dose of TMI. But just in case you’re one of the dear people I mention who “thinks we’re totally nuts,” this may shed a little light on our decision to not use birth control, and I am definitely here if anyone has questions. Just leave me a comment or drop me a line!)

women speak on nfp buttonBeep. Beep. Beep. You’re off on a girls’ weekend and everyone had a late night, but you have to wake up at 8am to take your temperature and then have to explain why. Congratulations, all your friends think you’re nuts. And then it’s the bachelorette party of a dear friend you met at the University Catholic Center, and you, married without children, are sitting in a bar with one very pregnant friend and another postpartum breastfeeding friend, nonchalantly shouting about cervical mucus with the newly charting fiance over the din of the karaoke… Read more at Carrots for Michaelmas.

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