In thinking through various difficult strains of theology, I was reminded of the poetic ability of G. K. Chesterton. The man never said anything extraordinary and yet almost every sentence was extra-ordinary. Like so many statements of the Bible, the words are clear and definitively true, yet challenging to follow resolutely. “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried.” He has an awareness of difficult threads of Scripture, yet a straightforward and simple admonishment to those who reason their way out of the obvious call of Christ. In the midst of exploring the galaxies of thought he states matter-of-factly “Do not be so open-minded that your brains fall out.” For our lack of comprehension is reason, not for plurality, but for a tight grasping of that truth which has been revealed in Holy Scripture. “Impartiality is a pompous name for indifference which is an elegant name for ignorance.” So we turn to study the wisdom of God with great diligence, knowing that we could never comprehend the riches of our God, but could also never be disappointed by a single morsel of his majesty. “The riddles of God are more satisfying than the solutions of man.”

O Come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here

How can we ignore?

Every forty seconds a precious life is taken by its own volition. Suicide is the third leading reason of death for people 15 to 44, and is almost equal in number for those over the age of 44. For every suicide, it is reported that 20 failed attempts were made. It is no consolation that at the current rate of increase, these numbers will double in 9 years.

From depths of hell Thy people save

And give them victory o'er the grave.

Martyrdom

More Christians were martyred in the 20th century than the previous centuries combined, and it looks like the 21st century will outdo again. Each year about 170,000 Christians are martyred for their faith.

O come Thou rod of Jesse, free

Thine own from Satan's tyranny.

Slavery today

Around 27 million people are enslaved today. In a day of immediate news and open protests of all sorts of issues, that figure is probably as surprising and staggering to you as it is to me. Human trafficking is a primary portion of this number. It has close to the same influence and revenue of drug trafficking. Over one million of these each year are children, and usually they are trafficked as sex-slaves and mail order brides.

O come, O come, Emmanuel,

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lowly exile here.

Loosely

Put, put, put. Jordan pulled to the side of the road as the car ran out of gas. Homework assignments and an appointment to pick up the new Graham house piano were all laughed away in the midst of the fact that we had just run out of gas in this metropolis. Luke and I began the hike to the gas station, but had only gone a few hundred yards when David from Wheaton's cafeteria pulled over to give us a lift. I hesitated only out of politeness, but he grinned back: "Do not be afraid! Jump in."

Within minutes we were back on the road to pick up our piano. It wasn't anything special, aside from the fact that it was free. It took all 5 of us and some ingenuity to get the piano up into the truck. It was the heaviest upright piano I had ever touched.

When we returned from the Graham house, our next dilemma was that no one was around. There was no way Jordan, Luke, and I were going to unload the piano on our own so we planned to wait patiently. It didn't take long til we needed a new adventure which could only involve a piano in the back of a truck - I've always wanted to play piano on the back of a truck while driving through town. I briefly checked the stability of the piano, since we had taken the ratched straps off. Jordan grabbed his guitar and we began making the rounds through campus, playing "Can you Feel the Love Tonight," "Pianoman," and "In the Jungle."

Public Safety began following us... o boy. "Better head back to the Graham house," I called to Luke from the back of the truck. He pulled in the driveway behind us and began his investigation. Of course, we thought he would be concerned for our safety - driving around city streets with people and instruments in the back of the truck. No way. "You know this looks a little fishy don't you? How do I know you didn't steal this piano from the dorm lounge." Seriously? I almost wanted to declare my rights to remain silent and go have some ice cream, but I figured I better not make him anymore suspicious.

After he finished and departed Luke pulled the truck around to back up towards our front porch. You may guess what happened next, considering the fact that the straps were still absent from the piano. I gasped with mixed delight and horror as 800 pounds of music tipped over the side of the truck shattering on Washington Street. Countless hours of work, ingenuity, and craftsmanship had gone into this instrument. It had seen countless hours of songs and delight. We had just spent our entire afternoon straining our backs and then enjoying its street performance ability.

I think we all were laughing. It was however, that nervous laugh. That laugh that comes with a mix of horror, amazement, and pure glee of seeing something you didn't ever expect to see. I couldn't help but reflect on our joy that night. We barely cared that we had wasted our afternoon and destroyed a beautiful instrument. It was worth it. And yet, if we had put 200$ into the venture, we probably would have been horrified, distressed, and dare I say mad at God? You see as soon as we invest in something, we assume God's blessing. It doesn't matter that the creator is fully able to give and take away at his whisper.

I'm still chuckling that we were able to have that experience and laugh with joy together. I hope that when my house burns down, my leg is broken, and the neighbor throws a baseball through my front picture window, that I will be able to laugh with the same delight. Let me hold things loosely with great joy as I watch blessings come and go.

Today's gift

"It is true, of course, that what is an unspeakable gift of God for the lonely individual is easily disregarded and trodden under foot by those who have the gift every day. It is easily forgotten that the fellowship of Christian brethren is a gift of grace, a gift of the Kingdom of God that any day may be taken from us, that the time that still separates us from utter loneliness may be brief indeed. Therefore let him who until now has had the privilege of living a common Christian life with other Christians praise God’s grace from the bottom of his heart. Let him thank God on his knees and declare: It is grace, nothing but grace, that we are allowed to live in community with Christian brethren." (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together)

For You

One by one they shuffled past my chapel seat. These friends were the best of the best and though they appeared in plain clothes, I pictured them dressed in robes of white righteousness: prayer warriors, peer leaders, Christ-proclaimers. One by one they partook.

The server quietly affirmed, “Christ’s body, broken for you.”

Then I noticed one out of place; Jack was among them. That scoundrel was making fun of chapel just yesterday. And now here he was singing with his hands in the air, tears rolling down his face, knees on the ground. He joined the line of those walking towards the communion table. What a hypocrite. Then I noticed others. Sarah rudely slandered me in front of some of my best friends last week, threatening my integrity for no good reason.

“The blood of Christ shed for you.”

Now here she was among the righteous, eating unworthily! A chill went down my spine as I looked down at my leprous hands. I realized immediately my wicked condescension. I fell into my chair, knees weak from my condition. Such daily arrogance had just culminated into judgment before the broken body of my Savior. Had I so quickly forgotten the grace of the one who redeemed me in the midst of my sin? Had I lost sight of the mercy of Him who was even now picking up my helpless, defiled body to carry me to the table where I did not belong?

“The body of Christ, broken for you.”

I barely needed his whisper in my ear: “I did not save you, Levi, that you might deserve freedom and be therefore saved from hell. I did not save Jack nor Sarah that they might be rewarded for their works with life forever in heaven. I have purchased you, Levi, with my blood that my grace, my mercy, my name might be glorified. For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”

“The blood of Christ, shed for you.”

Solidarity

It seems to me that solidarity is all tangled up with different opinions in what is rightfully celebrated diversity and what is inappropriate selfish racism. I find myself less concerned by the light-skinned boy staring unashamedly at the first dark-skinned person he has ever seen. I am nervous about even writing in those terms, yet I admit that is the way I think. I am what Woodley called the person who is outwardly politically correct, but inwardly racist. I cannot help but question whether that light-skinned boy is doing anything more inappropriate by staring at a dark-skinned person than by staring at the beautiful creation of Jupiter in telescope lenses for the first time. To take the analogy further, is it sinful to assume that the dark-skinned man will be able to jump higher, run faster, and sing better than I am able? What is celebrated diversity and what is evil - or at least inappropriate - racism?

In Israel, I realized how deep a racial tension can be rooted. I witnessed unchecked racism that leads to slander, violence, and even death. It seemed so obviously wrong and foolish. On the other hand, in Western Europe I witnessed pride of country like I’ve never seen in the U.S.A., and it seemed at some level good and right. Our melting pot has become so concerned with racism that we dare not cheer too loudly for our Olympic team, and I subsequently wonder if that is an unhelpful over-reaction.

I wonder if I will be able to live in the “real world” with any better perspective and understanding than my current understanding of racism. I’m afraid that I will hurt people because I don’t realize the context from which they come. I’m afraid that I will naturally be culturally, racially, politically, and socially arrogant in every aspect of my life. Is it wrong to herald the flag of a political party, because after studying I have found it to be the best manner of government? Is it wrong to assume that Africans will be able to jump, Germans will be stubborn, and the English will be snobby? How can my view of races, faiths, and lifestyles reconcile with a God who chose a particular nation to be His people? Did Paul show racism when he suggested that the gospel was to the Jew first and then to the Greek, and if so, how can that be reconciled as right?

The Holy Spirit

I was struck by the honesty of an article read for Senior Capstone this past week. The author said he did not always know how to discern God’s voice, but has kept striving to do so better. During the spring semester of 2011, I responded to the thought of eliminating songs about girls from my ipod and computer. I couldn’t have told you it was a voice from God, but it meshed with general wisdom and teaching of Scripture. In addition, I knew it wasn't the voice of my adversary. By those standards there was no good reason to not respond by deleting half of my music library. It seems to me that I often reject what is probably the Holy Spirit’s leading just because I’m not absolutely sure it’s the Holy Spirit. When these instances occur, I am merely excusing my inaction. To ignore a good thought in line with Scripture may be to ignore the Holy Spirit. Biblically, this “quenching of the Spirit” has dangerous outcomes.

I Samuel 8... and we are surprised.

Samuel told all the words of the LORD to the people who were asking him for a king. ¹¹ He said, “This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots. ¹²Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots. ¹³ He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. ¹⁴ He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants. ¹⁵ He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants. ¹⁶ Your male and female servants and the best of your cattle^[c] and donkeys he will take for his own use. ¹⁷ He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. ¹⁸ When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen, but the LORD will not answer you in that day.”

getting clearer

"Absolutely clear in Cyprians account of salvation is that when a sinner attains to the heavenly vision and immortality, it is all God's doing and a work of mercy and grace. Humans cannot coerce God or force his grace to work within them or on their behalf. In spite of later Protestant polemics against the penitential system that grew out of Cyprians theology, Cyprian himself was not guilty of work-righteousness or self-salvation. Nowhere did he suggest that a person can earn salvation as a reward for good works; he only emphasized that a truly repentant sinner being saved by God's grace will necessarily demonstrate true repentance by outward acts." - Roger E. Olson

"There is no faith exhibited where there is no obedience. There is no fruit where there is no faith exhibited. There is no salvation where there is no fruit." - Tony Evans

"My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world. We know that we have come to know him if we keep his commands. Whoever says, “I know him,” but does not do what he commands is a liar, and the truth is not in that person. But if anyone obeys his word, love for God is truly made complete in them. This is how we know we are in him: Whoever claims to live in him must live as Jesus did. Dear friends, I am not writing you a new command but an old one, which you have had since the beginning. This old command is the message you have heard." I John 2

See, what a morning, gloriously bright,
With the dawning of hope in Jerusalem;
Folded the grave-clothes, tomb filled with light,
As the angels announce, "Christ is risen!"
See God's salvation plan,
Wrought in love, borne in pain, paid in sacrifice,
Fulfilled in Christ, the Man,
For He lives: Christ is risen from the dead!

Psalm 19

¹The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.

²Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.

³There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.

⁴Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.

Psalm 19

Intelligence

Upon recent vacation at one of the most beautiful piece of property I have ever seen, I stated:

"I wish I was a girl so that I could choose this place for my wedding."

My oldest nephew once again astonished me with his wit in reply:

"Yeah, but if you were a girl, you'd have to marry a boy and that would be gross because boys are gross."

Watertown Aquatic Center

The sound of a long whistle blast signals an emergency. As an aquatics first response team, we are well aware that this means we have an unconscious victim in the water with a suspected neck or back injury, and time is everything. We have 4 to 6 minutes before the victim will suffer brain damage because of lack of oxygen, and a wrong move could mean paralysis for life. Under that pressure, every muscle is tense and our hands are shaking. Within 30 seconds the primary lifeguard has the victim in a stabilized position in the water. After 60 precious seconds have passed, the EMS has been summoned and other guards have responded, backboarding the victim and securing him/her into a stabilized position. Within 180 seconds the victim has been removed from the pool. We begin cycles of breaths and chest compressions, knowing that we beat the 4 minute mark by only a few seconds. Now the circulation of oxygen is critical until an AED or paramedics have arrived.

We do this every day, because every day it is our job. Thankfully today it was a drill. Yesterday it was a drill. And the day before that it was a drill. Some complain that we are wasting our time preparing for an event that may never come. But we know that if it did come, we won't regret the 5 minute drills that added up to hours of our time. It would all be worth saving one life.

Is it any wonder that the angels rejoice over the salvation of one person?

Captivating

I was playing capture the flag.

And I realized.

When Christ came to set captives free, he was speaking of teamates. The polite unbelievers and the scoffing persecutors alike are on my team! They just don't realize it.

It's like Jason Bourne.

Man, I know some captives that need to hear!

Back in Mark Twain's day

Oh, when Mark Twain's description was true:

"I saw common men, there--men who were neither priests nor princes--who yet absolutely owned the land they tilled. It was not rented from the church, nor from the nobles. I am ready to take my oath of this. In that country you might fall from a third story window three several times, and not mash either a soldier or a priest. --The scarcity of such people is astonishing. In the cities you will see a dozen civilians for every soldier, and as many for every priest or preacher. Jews, there, are treated just like human beings, instead of dogs. They can work at any business they please; they can sell brand new goods if they want to; they can keep drug-stores; they can practice medicine among Christians; they can even shake hands with Christians if they choose; they can associate with them, just the same as one human being does with another human being; they don't have to stay shut up in one corner of the towns; they can live in any part of a town they like best; it is said they even have the privilege of buying land and houses, and owning them themselves, though I doubt that, myself; they never have had to run races naked through the public streets, against jackasses, to please the people in carnival time; there they never have been driven by the soldiers into a church every Sunday for hundreds of years to hear themselves and their religion especially and particularly cursed; at this very day, in that curious country, a Jew is allowed to vote, hold office, yea, get up on a rostrum in the public street and express his opinion of the government if the government don't suit him! Ah, it is wonderful. The common people there know a great deal; they even have the effrontery to complain if they are not properly governed, and to take hold and help conduct the government themselves; if they had laws like ours, which give one dollar of every three a crop produces to the government for taxes, they would have that law altered: instead of paying thirty-three dollars in taxes, out of every one hundred they receive, they complain if they have to pay seven. They are curious people. They do not know when they are well off. Mendicant priests do not prowl among them with baskets begging for the church and eating up their substance. One hardly ever sees a minister of the gospel going around there in his bare feet, with a basket, begging for subsistence. In that country the preachers are not like our mendicant orders of friars--they have two or three suits of clothing, and they wash sometimes. In that land are mountains far higher than the Alban mountains; the vast Roman Campagna, a hundred miles long and full forty broad, is really small compared to the United States of America; the Tiber, that celebrated river of ours, which stretches its mighty course almost two hundred miles, and which a lad can scarcely throw a stone across at Rome, is not so long, nor yet so wide, as the American Mississippi--nor yet the Ohio, nor even the Hudson. In America the people are absolutely wiser and know much more than their grandfathers did. They do not plow with a sharpened stick, nor yet with a three-cornered block of wood that merely scratches the top of the ground. We do that because our fathers did, three thousand years ago, I suppose. But those people have no holy reverence for their ancestors. They plow with a plow that is a sharp, curved blade of iron, and it cuts into the earth full five inches. And this is not all. They cut their grain with a horrid machine that mows down whole fields in a day. If I dared, I would say that sometimes they use a blasphemous plow that works by fire and vapor and tears up an acre of ground in a single hour."

Europe trip

terrible quality, but here are a few of my favorite pictures from Europe.

Top Ten of Israel

1. Having an address on Mount Zion with a view of Gehenna out my front door. I mean who doesn’t like to give people those directions: “Start at the Holy Sepulcher, walk past Shabaans shop, turn right at the oldest protestant church in Jerusalem, walk out Jaffa gate, pass David’s citadel, and follow the Old City wall to the southwest corner.”

2. Olives! Olive pizza, olive fettuccini, olive lasagna, olive salad, whole olives, olive you, olive oil, olive trees.

3. A better understanding of the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict. I learned so much about Zionism, pacifism, just war, and how to identify with the oppressed.

4. Church of the Holy Sepulcher! This traditional spot of the crucifixion and resurrection was one of my favorite and most frequented spots. Five denominations have peacefully worshipped here for hundreds of years and I loved taking part in each aspect of the diverse body of Christ. I was challenged by traditions so very different from my own. I was encouraged to see followers of Christ whose understanding of Him was very different.

5. National identity. It’s impossible to have a sense of national identity by just travelling to Canada. You have to see the people that are fighting every day for their land and their freedom to understand how blessed we are. I have a greater gratitude and pride. The righteousness of the government is worth fighting for, especially in a nation where we have the opportunity to fight for it!

6. Passover/Passion Week! Only once in a while do Passover and Passion Week line up together. Walking through the old city one could observe the celebrations of the Jewish people, the Orthodox, and the Western church. It was also the first time that I have so closely followed the events of the last week and of course walked the turf in appropriate time.

7. Holy Fire Tradition. This orthodox tradition packed the Church of the Holy Sepulcher with people anxious to see a fire that begins in the sepulcher and is spread by torches and bundles of candles. A friend and I got up at an hour which would have been called ungodly if it were anywhere but Jerusalem. Within hours the place was packed tighter than I could imagine. Since I was close to the sepulcher, people pushed so hard that it was literally difficult to breath if you extend your hands to hold space in front of your chest for air. Multiple people fainted around me and had to be body surfed over the crowd to the door. Then the fire took off from person to person and it was no wonder why every police officer had a fire extinguisher strapped to his/her back.

8. Palestinian Taxi Drivers! Not only are they crazy drivers, but they have crazy stories. It is good to hear about their lives as arab believers or Muslims, and the heritage of their families and land.

9. Sleeping on Mount Sinai! One of my favorite adventures was travelling into Egypt to climb Mount Sinai. We found a nice cave filled with blankets where we huddled out of the cold after a beautiful sunrise. I wouldn’t want to climb that mountain as many times as Moses did!

10. Friday morning classes with Gabi Barkai! Although his lectures were often monotone, this leading archeologist for Jerusalem was a walking encyclopedia of ancient Israel.

Israel Reflection

“How was your trip.”

“It was great. I learned and experienced so much.”

“That’s great to hear. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Gotta go. Have a great day.”

And so it goes: the one sentence reflection of my 4 months in Israel. There’s also a thirty-second option and a five-minute option. Here’s that one.

I went to Israel with the words of dozens of my friends and mentors ringing in my ears: “My time in Israel made the Bible come alive. You will never read Scripture the same again.” Looking back, I suppose they were perfectly correct, but that life springing up from the page came at me in ways I would not have expected.

Class after class, field study after field study, reading after reading, I was coming up with more problems and questions than solutions and answers. I found myself empathizing with those who go off to higher education and lose their faith. Every day I was clinging with a firmer grip to Abba, as the vortex tugged at me. I don’t think I ever came close to giving up, but I definitely felt the child-like faith: a faith that doesn't necessarily understand, but has no reason to doubt the faithfulness of the Father.

It started with a conflicting perspective of who the Jews were and what they believed. I was confronted with diligent and disciplined people who are far more knowledgeable of the Old Testament than I am. Do I really believe that God condemns them to eternal punishment, these people who seem to have so much respect for YHWH and respond in what they believe to be obedience? What about the Jews of Christ’s day? Am I arrogant enough to believe that I would have responded any differently to a human claiming to be the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Creator of the Universe?

A second problem was a growing understanding of my own heritage, from the ancient Israelites to the catholic church. How do you respond to the fact that the ancient Israelites were polygamists, and seemingly worse that YHWH apparently did not condemn it for a time. Is it more revolting or less revolting that the ancient Israelites also practiced Marzeah – an ancient type of séance that included eating in the burial place of the deceased? More recently there is the bloody heritage of the Crusades, for which the Muslims still hold a grudge. Even today there is the convoluted politics of Zionism. I readily considered myself a Zionist until I saw the human rights abuses of the nation of Israel and then it was not so easy. One cannot ignore people that suffer at the hands of those who make no distinction between the state of Israel and the promises of God to the Jewish people.

As the semester came to a close, I realized that my faith had grown so much stronger. It’s not because I found perfect answers to the injustices, mistakes, and problems. Rather, my faith had become firmly grounded in reality. The heritage of faith is made up of people just as depraved and wicked as the Ninevites, but the same powerful grace of God that Jonah wanted to withhold has broken through.The free will with which we were blessed continually chooses the lie of the devil over the truth of God. The ancient Israelite narrative and the narrative of the church show our depravity and God’s grace demonstrated by His willingness to be incarnate in a fallen world, redeeming all of creation to Himself. That salvation history is as messy as it is long.

The very fact that God’s Word displays the messiness of the narrative is proof that it is grounded in reality. If this message was mans product, the disciples surely would not have shown how ignorant they were. They were no less ignorant than those whom the speak of Jesus reproving. Almost the only difference is that they chose to believe and follow the reality of Christ.

A parallel story is told in Matthew chapter eleven. The Jews are described as children playing games in the market place. They were adhering to the practices of religion though their practices were not connected to reality just as the children were singing a dirge though there was no occasion for mourning. It is no wonder that the people did not respond with mourning. When John and Jesus came, revealing the true reality, these Jews gave credit to demons, drunkenness, and gluttony. They had religion and reality all mixed up. In the following verses Christ’s warning is frightening. Will we be like those who have witnessed Christ’s work, but are stuck in a fake created reality? I hope we will instead be those who realize the reality of our wickedness and repent in light of the revelation of God incarnate, Jesus Christ.

Here is a brief video of my favorite places and people in Israel. And of course Matt Traylor was correct when he pegged this as one of my favorite songs. Unfortunately he thinks I'm a geek because of it. Oh well, I think less of him for enjoying country music so much.

Behold, I stand at the door and cough

I found myself in a classroom with 15 other students listening to a man tell of his experience in Bible translation. Every detail sounded crazy... and crazy exciting. Who wouldn't want to step alone into a foreign culture and have the joy of pointing to a rock until a native realizes that you want to learn their word for rock. Then point to a house and a tree until the native realizes that you are trying to learn their language! They are probably so excited that you have come to learn their language, but that barely makes the task any easier.

Soon I was face to face with the opportunity to see if I could do the same. In a smaller group, I found myself with a recent Myanmar refugee who was told to not speak or give ear to the few words of English that he did know. With gestures and words we figured out how to exchange names, but even that was slightly expected. As we went off track, things became more complicated. I didn't even know how to ask what an item was, let alone abstracts like "God," "love" and "the renewing of your mind."

As the week went on, I put more facts and ideas into my thinking cap. I was faced with the issues of translation that I've always taken for granted. How do you translate the knocking of Christ (Revelation 3) in a culture that doesn't knock on the door? Some cultures cough when they approach another's house. "Behold I stand at your door and cough?" Maybe explanation would be better: "Behold I stand at the door and seek to gain entrance by knocking, a cultural habit exercised by the action of a closed fist pounding on a door with the knuckles to produce a striking sound." Your Bible is now twice as long, and the book of John is as gripping of a narrative as the begottens of Leviticus. Even then you haven't even begun to address the readability of the Bible in the culture. I'm not talking about a paraphrase dumbing down, but an honest reflection that "thee" and "thou" is as inspired as your Biblical table of contents, and the average person would not care to habitually read from a Greek-English interlinear Bible which purposefully gives no attention to English word order. Then you've got a significant portion of the world to which Matthew 28:3 says very little. There is no way to know how white your sins are washed if you have no idea what snow is. Do you instead translate: "white as coconut meat?" What about the cultures that don't even have metaphors? Would we dare try to translate the Bible without metaphors? It may seem an obvious and resounding "NO" is in order until you consider the English parallels. What if every Biblical narrative started with "Once upon a time..." We'd consider it all myth. Yet a simple word choice of the translator gave us "And it came to pass..." for our sake! I have realized a bit this week how much I take for granted. I wouldn't know squat about the symbolism of Christ as the sacrificial lamb if it were not for the teaching that accompanies the text. I wouldn't know what the festival of booths was if it were not for this last semester in Israel.

The Jews responded joyfully to the call of YHWH. In some sense, one could argue that they weren't primarily excited about salvation, heaven, or faith that moves mountains. They were excited that God had chosen to reveal Himself to them! They had the privilege to know His Name and His Torah/Teaching. I've seen videos of people with a similar response to the idea that God speaks their language. Is it any wonder that people groups would doubt the omnipotent power and demand of Christ on their lives when it seems that YHWH does not even speak their language?

Until a great multitude that no one can number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, stand before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes with palm branches in their hands, crying with a loud voice, "Salvation belongs to our God Who sits on the throne and to the Lamb!" (Revelation 7)

Please Pray

Many of you know that I will be attending a Bible translation conference this coming week, July 6-10. I expect this week to be an introduction to the various opportunities of working with Wycliffe as well as a practical testing time to see if and how my personality and abilities might be used in such an endeavor.

I ask you to join in prayer with me that God would direct my steps by way of this week. My prayer is that this time would provide excellent information and counsel towards a better decision of the work to which God is calling me. I am eager for your prayer and counsel.

The Rhone and the Rhine

On our way to Switzerland we took a detour through the black forest of Germany. It didn't knock our socks off or anything, but it was enjoyable to see the architectural and geographical scenery change from France to Germany and then to Switzerland. The drive through the Alps was as phenomenal as our camp cuddled between the mountains of the Alps in Interlacken.

We slept in and then spent 8 hours hiking from Lauterbraun to Muren. Around every bend was an amazing view of snow capped mountains and the villages in the valleys. One part of this trip that happened to be planned well was the diversity of our experiences. Villages to big city. Long car rides to long hikes. Camping to hosteling to hoteling. Along the hike we enjoyed swiss cheese and swiss chocolate. Now all we need is some Swiss Miss.

Paris

Rick Steve's says you can't do everything in Paris no matter how much time you have. That meant we were in luck, because we never have much time in a city. The Louvre was at the top of our list of course. I almost didn't go to see the Mona Lisa, because it seemed to cliche and I thought it would be great to be that guy who went to the Louvre and was able to live above the ways of the normal tourist. I quickly realized that either way it would be about what I would tell people at home and not about actually seeing or not seeing the Mona Lisa and I was therefore doomed either way. My favorite painting was actually directly across from the Mona Lisa: the Wedding at Cana by Veronese. I spent the most time at this work trying to capture and understand as many details as possible. I actually didn't intend to spend much time at that particular work, but I kept seeing details that fascinated me.

My favorite part of Paris was a visit to two churches: Notre Dame and Saint Sulpice. We happened upon Notre Dame in perfect timing just before a mass. The Cavaille Coll organ had my attention the entire time. Our visit to the second church was more intentional. We arose for the Sunday morning mass, arriving after the prelude just as the service began. The church is just barely smaller than Notre Dame and is known for its Cavaille Coll, one of the most impressive organs built in the French symphonic style. The church also has an impressive history of organists, most notably Charles-Marie Widor and Marcel Dupre. After the service, a short choir and organ concert followed. The guys were also generous to allow me to wait in line to see the organ. The history and music present in that place made it probably the single-most exciting adventure of the European tour.

Madrid

Let's just say Florence to Madrid isn't a hop skip and a jump away. The scenery, however, was grand. The Pyrenees are beautiful mountains along the border of France and Spain. The weaving roads were a blast to drive through as the sun set with a beautiful array of colors. We passed through Andora without realizing it was a country. Its a small city with French exit border patrol on one side and Spain entrance border patrol on the other. Its greatest boast is its gas prices - the cheapest we've seen in Europe by far. After 11 hours or so of driving we crashed (not literally) inside the border near the autostrasse.

At 6 in the morning it was time to go. Jordan's plane was due to arrive around noon and we were excited to greet him. We joked as we drove about how we half expected him to depart the plane with his guitar and nothing else. We also had a vague hope that Luke would be standing behind him to join us last minute.

We spent the evening settling down in our hotel, a quaint little place on the fourth floor. That is, the entire hotel was on the fourth floor. After walking around to see some of the sights in the neighborhood we returned for a siesta, something Asa had been looking forward to since the beginning of the trip. At 11pm I awoke to Matt asking if our siesta was over. As unusual as it might sound, it would not have been outrageous for us to arise and spend a few hours in town at that time of day. Everyone, including the older generation takes a few hour siesta in the early afternoon and then stays up until the early hours of the morning. A few moans from us, however, indicated that we would be going straight from our siesta nap to bed.

As usual, we flew through Madrid. We began with a few hours at the Prado where I saw a few works that were studied in Art History class at Wheaton. Paintings by the great Spanish artists such as Goya and Velazquez were along side others such as Rubens. It was a feast for the eyes. After checking out a few churches and the Plaza Mayor, we spent the bulk of the rest of our time at the Palace Real, the official residence of the King of Spain. The palace was complete with an armory which displayed dozens of sets of armor for horses, knights, and jousters.

Our day was complete with a trip to the bull fights. The offices in the center of Madrid were out of tickets so we went to see if we could find a few for sale outside the building. Our hopes were low since it is currently a festival time of bull fighting and Spaniards scramble to see the show. Nevertheless, we did find some surprisingly cheap tickets in the colloseum-like arena. The experience was a must-see for any travelers to Madrid. We saw three matadors fight against 2 bulls a piece. The second bull fought so bravely that within minutes the crowd was cheering to set him free, which was granted. Rumor has it that such hardly happens and the bull would be off to spend a happy life grazing with no worries. The whole event is quite exciting - the matadors, the capes, the spearers on horses. One can easily see how it developed out of the days of the colloseum when animals would fight men bringing about very different results.

Florence

This is Italy. Small streets, wafting smells of pasta and meat, rod iron on the windows of tightly packed houses. We quickly jumped in line to see David. As we waited in the short line, we met a man from Britain who was happy to talk about recent politics, the pros of social welfare and the problematic damages of Reagonomics and Thatcherism. Two women from the southern states chimed in. At first we assumed them to be republican crazies, but when they said they wished Hillary would have made it to the presidency, we were plain old confused.

Part of the collection in the Galleria Accadamia included a few instruments that were of special interest to me. There was the first known upright piano, stringed instruments made by the famous Stradivarius and various paintings of the medici court.

4.5 Minutes and then David

I'm sitting at the bathroom door of our camp Michaelangelo. Unfortunately the bathroom has the only available power near the snack shacks wifi service. Since I've also got a bit less than 5 minutes I can share some news about as brief as we have been seeing the sights.

Rome wasn't built in a day, but it can be seen in a day. We checked into our hotel which gave us their last room for the first night: a two bedroom, 2 bathroom, suite with full kitchen (including dishwasher). We were living fancy for a night. We arose to conquer all of Rome in just one span of daylight. The vatican was what I was most excited for and it met my expectations. I wondered how many of the tourists around me were believers. St. Peters is one of the most impressive building structures I have ever seen. Its massiveness and decorated interior are beautiful. The museum complex leading into the sistine chapel is a bit overwhelming. Art and statues are compressed into the corridors as if they weren't famous. Then, of course, the Sistine is breathtaking. The colloseum was a must see, but rather disappointing for one who had his hopes too high. The famous fountains, statues, and buildings that we walked past were lost in the shuffle of three men with only one day in Rome.

We drove to Florence yesterday. Up til now we have been avoiding the autostrada and the back road highways have given us a beautiful view of the countryside. I love the little villages, farms, and fields. Around every rolling hill is a vineyard and a small town perched on a sunny slope. Of course this drive is partially pleasant because of our vehicle upgrade to a Mercedes 350. Yesterday we splurged on a meal in Florence which consisted of merely prima pasta. We skipped the antipasta (appetizer), second pasta, and main course of meat that would have brought our bill into the triple digits. We were pretty happy with just one dish of the best pasta of our lives...

Now to see David.

Athens

The dozens of people outside customs with tour group and guide names gave Matt and I the idea to make signs greeting Asa to Greece. We acted like we didn’t recognize him until he walked right up to us, and his oblivion made things awfully awkward. A short bus ride took us to one of the best hostels in Greece and even the world. It was basically a communal hotel with a shower that flooded the entire bathroom.
After settling in we went out to see the city. The acropolis towers over the city being visible from most parts of modern day Athens. We circled to the opposite side and sat down to enjoy a meat platter including sardines, squid, and lamb! The lit acropolis just a few hundred yards away was in sight as we maxed out our food budget for the next two days. Peanut butter and jelly it will be for the next 2 days. Seriously.
In the morning we got an early start touring the acropolis, ancient agora, roman agora, Hadrian’s library, and multiple ancient theaters where the great works have been performed for centuries. By the time afternoon came around we were both tired and satisfied with our adventures.
After a siesta we decided to go to the ancient Olympic stadium. Little did we know that it would be one of our favorite sights of Athens. A free walking tour was informational and our run around the track was thrilling. A stadium has been since ancient Athens, but this one was built for the 1896 Olympic games – the first of the modern Olympic competitions. It was then used again in 1904 and more recently as part of the Olympic torch procession. Walking where the athletes have walked through the approach tunnel and on the track, I think we were all pretty impressed.
This morning we arose for a long travel to Bari, Italy. It began by a 3-hour bus ride to Patras, Greece. There we stopped for a terrible fake coffee and had a short chat with the Romanian barista who immigrated to Greece 15 years ago. She told us of the challenges of immigrating and now getting a wage that is low, but much better than what was available in Romania. Our trip to Bari is now being completed by a ferry ride arriving at 8am tomorrow morning. The boat seems almost as great as I would imagine a cruise ship to be. Except for size, attractions, and tourist stops, the boat has a wonderful lounge and the lack of crowds has allowed us to have large flight chairs in which to sleep tonight.

Poverty?

When we arrived near Cairo the sherut stopped under a bridge and tried to hand us over to another taxi. The background of the story is that we had agreed on 100 Egyptian pounds with our first driver from the border and he had already transferred us into another sheruts hands. Since we had given him 75 pounds, there was only 25 pounds of payment left as far as we were concerned. The driver almost broke down in tears as we argued about the agreement, knowing full well that 25 pounds was little more than 4USD for the last two and half hour ride. When the deal was complete we gave him 10 pounds (less than 2USD) each and got into the taxi for 15 pounds (little more than 2 dollars each) to take us the remaining 10 miles.

The poverty and low cost of living is incredible. When we arrived we grabbed a bag of 6 pita for 33 cents. Yet everyone is dressed nice and very few people are outright begging for money (instead they try to wash your car or take your picture and then demand payment). The food is so cheap, I wish we could eat it. Here one can get a lifetime disease from consuming anything with a trace of the water. If we wanted, we could get steak for 5, ice cream for 1, and probably feed the country for a day on 100 or so. The fresh fruit looks absolutely incredible and is dirt cheap! Instead we stick to bags of whole bags of chips for 50 cents.

Today we visited the Gaza and Saqqara Pyramids by personal taxi for 200 pounds (less than 40USD). Our driver was very kind and dressed well regardless of the fact that he was getting 35 dollars to spend 9 hours driving us around in his vehicle. Everywhere we went people tried to make a pound off of us. Everyone wanted us to ride a camel or buy a trinket. 2 boys told us that they just wanted to take our picture. They loaded us on their camels and dressed us up spend 10 minutes taking photographs with our cameras for us. Then they were frustrated that we would not pay them. I was not surprised, but didn't know how to respond. We told them from the beginning that we didn't want camels and didn't have money. Throughout the day we became more dogmatic. Arabs would begin a tour of a particular tomb and we would tell them, "You don't need to show us, we have no money." They would have a quick comeback with pleading eyes and then finally leave us to ourselves. Every once in a while we would hear, "I give you good price. No tourists anymore. Any money."

The final departure

As I walked through the border leaving Israel for the last time, memories of the semester flooded my mind. I remember looking over the topography of the Old City for the first time from Mount Scopus and the Mount of Olives. I remember the first views of the wilderness, the Dead Sea, Nazareth, Cana, and Capernaum. There were class periods that went by so quickly because I was fascinated with the way that I was beginning to understand the Biblical narrative as well as class periods that went by ever so slowly in which I would play hangman with my fellow students. I remember the first time I walked through the maze of barbed wire and the towering wall into Palestine to hear my taxi driver tell of his family's house that was destroyed for the wall's construction. I think of the Jews who I have lived so close to and observed so intrigued. I think of countless conversations of how the Jews everlasting covenant will be fulfilled when "He who does not know the Son, does not know the Father."

The bus rides were rather long: 5 hours to the border and 6 hours to Cairo. At the Egyptian border we were told that we would have to go back to israel to obtain a Cairo visa. This was a problem for we had checked the embassies website, talked to various people, and come to the conclusion that we could get the visa at the border. To make matters worse, th embassy would be closed so we would have to spend the night in Eilat completely eliminating any adventures in Cairo by the time we got there. The man told us to go sit down and I started praying. "Lord, we researched ahead and thought this was the right thing. It doesn't make an ounce of sense to me, but if you want us to spend our time and money in Eilat instead of the adventures we planned for Cairo, Your will be done." In a few minutes a tour group guide came to us and explained the situation. We could pay him to obtain a visa, add us to his tour group list, and pay off the passport control. It was a straight up bribe. Dr. Wright would be proud.

We were joined in our sherut to Cairo by a couple from Chile who were traveling the world and dancing in Tango competitions. Their limited English provided for interesting conversations and miscommunications. Some of my favorite moments were when we would speak broken English with the Egyptians and then again try to explain to the French speaking Chileans.

A perspective

"When I told Saddam that attacking Israel would be like the blind attacking the sighted, we were surrounded by all of the members of the general staff, and Gen. Amir Rashid Ubaidi, who was deputy air force commander for technology and engineering, leaned over to his colleague and whispered, 'Georges is going to be killed, now, right on the spot. His head will be separated from his body.' In any event, I told Saddam that the reason I had used that expression is because ISraeli aircraft have very advanced radar with the capability to see more than 125 miles in any direction. On the other hand, 75 percent of Iraqi aircraft were Russian-made, and the range of the radar on our fighters was only about fifteen miles. THis meant that the Israeli fighters could see our aircraft at least 110 miles before we would even know they were there. And thats not even the worst part. Their laser-guided missiles could lock on our fighters while they were still sixty-five miles away, and we'd have no idea that enemy fighters were anywhere around." - General Georges Sada

Mount Sinai and the Red Sea

This weekend was a definite highlight of my time here and possibly one of the best of my life.

We set off for Egypt early Friday morning, taking the 4 hour bus ride to the border. A little bartering bought us a 200 pound round trip sherut to St. Catherine's monastery at the bottom of Mt. Sinai. Throughout the trip we read different excerpts from Moses' encounter with God. Although the 3 hour hike was not extremely difficult I thought of Moses in his old age climbing up and down the mountain 5 or 6 times in the Biblical narrative.

By the time we reached the top, the wind was already chilling. The beautiful sunset only made the temperatures worse. The few who live at the top of the mountain kept offering us mats and blankets, but we lied that we were just fine. We bundled up and sat as close to each other as we could without obviously cuddling to fight off the cold. One by one the stars came out 'til there were more stars than I have ever seen before. The sky was solid with images of Abraham's descendants. One local offered us a little cave to sleep in which we gladly accepted. It was just the right size for the four of us to keep warm out of the wind.

I awoke early in the morning to the buzz of the hundred or so tourists who had made the trek up the mountain for the sunrise. We scrambled out to a little jutting rock ledge and covered up with our sleeping bags to see the beauty of the sun rising over the mountain range. 4 warm cups of hot chocolate and we began our descent.

After a brief visit to the monastery, we took the sherut back to the border and walked to meet some friends in Eilat. There at the national park beach we snorkeled in what are some of the best snorkeling waters. The fish and coral reef were incredible. It felt like swimming in an exotic aquarium, chasing the brightly colored and uniquely shaped underwater creatures.

By the time night came, the sand under my sleeping bag on the Red Sea didn't seem all that hard. The only downside was the busy road just a few yards away with streetlights and the bar that insisted on blaring Arabic techno. Oh well, I was literally sleeping on the beach of the Red Sea!

Matt and I lingered at the beach after everyone else headed back to school. We got out our study guides and acted like we were working hard, though in this place it didn't feel like work at all. That evening we boarded the bus and headed back. I would say that the surreal vacation was over, but then again we were only heading back to Jerusalem.

A different perspective

This morning I went with a group to experience the scenery of the Temple Mount again. The place was a bit more crowded: muslims gathering for study in their circles of plastic chairs in the garden, tourists snapping photographs, soldiers texting in a nonchalant pose at every gate. I went to sit at the northern end of the Dome complex looking into the tress, rose bushes, and grasses that are just beginning to faint from their spring green luster in the heat of the dry sunshine.

I was thinking back to my earlier surmise that the rocks are crying out in this place that seems so foreign to Christians, Zionists, and the few Jews that are allowed on the premises. The silence that seems like it should have the busy bustle of Temple activity was again what I expected to hear, but I noticed something else. There were birds chirping for all they were worth. Those crazy little creatures couldn't be stopped from singing their praise. Even the skeptical crow and the sneaking cat didn't stop them. They chirped away as if God was still in complete control of the land. And I thought to myself, maybe He is.

Hameshiach qam! Be'emet qam!

Saturday: 5 am. Got up to join the Roman Catholic procession for entrance into the Holy Sepulcher. At 6:30, a 3 hour resurrection mass began. A beaming man from Australia explained everything to us as we followed along in the 168 page translation mass order. Chapters of scripture were intonated - The Creation account, the Exodus account, Isaiah's Prophecies of one who would come to free Israel, and then the Resurrection accounts. A significant group of people were gathered, but the crowd was a beautifully void of tourists. This was a crowd that had come to worship He Who is risen from the dead.

The participants of the mass gathered their things and left, but we had another celebration to attend. Hundreds of police entered the Church and began setting up barricades. Within minutes the dozen of people that had stayed were joined by hundreds and then thousands of Armenian and Greek Orthodox believers. My companion Caleb warned me that it was going to be packed and people were going to be pushy. Of course, the Orthodox do not allow people to sit during a service, so there is no way to hold your ground. We started off in the second row but within an hour another 6 or 7 rows of people had nudged their way in front of us. By 11am my legs were at a 90 degree angle trying to hold back the crowd that was pushing from behind. Young adults and the elderly joined in shouting Khristós Anésti!(He is risen) Alithós Anésti! (He is risen indeed). By 12:30 I had given up my pressure to be squeezed from all directions. Every 15 minutes or so someone nearby would faint and the crowd would push them through to the medics across the barricades. Soon, the Greek and Armenian Orthodox Patriarchs processed around the tomb three times before entering. Shortly after one, the "Holy Fire" was seen inside the tomb, a flame that is said to come from heaven every year to be caught by the Patriarch. Torches were passed out with the holy flame and people scrambled to light their bundles of candles. The hundreds of flaming torches around me was bit scary. The fire extinguishers strapped to the backs of the countless crowd control officers were barely a comfort. I had just seen on of the most famous of the Orthodox traditions.

After a few hours of sleep I woke at 11:30 pm to make my way back to the Holy Sepulcher for the joint resurrection service. Less people made the event just a bit more peaceful as I watched from my perch halfway up a pillar. The processions of the various church leaders was followed by a trek to the roof where we joined the Ethiopian Orthodox Church. Here, the service was quiet, but every once in a while the paschal phrase was heard: Kristos Tenestwal! (He is risen) Bergit Tenestwal! (He is risen indeed). Many had been fasting since Friday afternoon and were now breaking that fast with a meal. One of them told us his testimony and invited us to join in the feast.

Our final stop was the garden tomb. We were the first in line for the 6:00 opening. This service was much more familiar. We sang a dozen hymns and were reminded about Thomas, the disciple who doubted. Yet even he, who had missed the first appearance of Jesus to the disciples was blessed with an intentional visit from the risen LORD. He is risen! He is risen indeed.

Hameshiach qam! (He is risen) Be'emet qam! (He is risen indeed).

The Suffering of Christ

Some may say it is disrespectful to be so blunt and academic, but I think some have lost the meaning of the passion of Christ by simply being naive to the horrific and graphic practice of crucifixion. Have we taken it for granted? Have we grown callous to the familiarity? I would hope that none of this is new to you, for those it is a call to remembrance. Do you know the actual cause of Christ’s death? I mean more than just crucifixion, but the actual cause of the stopped heart? Crucifixion was so common in the days of the gospel writers, that they ignore the details.

Luke 22 (the physician is the only gospel writer to record Christ’s sweat as drops of blood.)39 And He came out and proceeded, as was His custom to the Mount of Olives; and the disciples also followed Him. 40 When He arrived at the place, He said to them, “Pray that you may not enter into temptation.” 41 And He withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and He knelt down and began to pray, 42 saying, “Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done.” 43 Now an angel from heaven appeared to Him, strengthening Him. 44 And being in agony He was praying very fervently; and His sweat became like drops of blood, falling down upon the ground. 45 When He rose from prayer, He came to the disciples and found them sleeping from sorrow, 46 and said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you may not enter into temptation.”

Although this is a very rare phenomenon, bloody sweat (hemohidrosis) may occur in highly emotional states. As a result of hemorrhage into the sweat glands, the skin becomes fragile and tender. Blood vessels break near the surface, mixing with the sweat. Jesus' actual blood loss probably was minimal. However, in the cold night air, it may have produced chills.

The language is matter-of-factly, but I wonder how we look at this story. Have we emphasized Christ’s divinity to the point that we don’t believe he truly suffered this much? Do we skim over this passage like it’s a miracle?

Matthew 26: 47 While He was still speaking, behold, Judas, one of the twelve, came up accompanied by a large crowd with swords and clubs, who came from the chief priests and elders of the people. 48 Now he who was betraying Him gave them a sign, saying, “Whomever I kiss, He is the one; seize Him.” 49 Immediately Judas went to Jesus and said, “Hail, Rabbi!” and kissed Him. 50 And Jesus said to him, “Friend, do what you have come for.” Then they came and laid hands on Jesus and seized Him. 51 And behold, one of those who were with Jesus reached and drew out his sword, and struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his ear. 52 Then Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place; for all those who take up the sword shall perish by the sword. 53 “Or do you think that I cannot appeal to My Father, and He will at once put at My disposal more than twelve legions of angels? 54 “How then will the Scriptures be fulfilled, which say that it must happen this way?” 55 At that time Jesus said to the crowds, “Have you come out with swords and clubs to arrest Me as you would against a robber? Every day I used to sit in the temple teaching and you did not seize Me. 56 “But all this has taken place to fulfill the Scriptures of the prophets.” Then all the disciples left Him and fled. 57 Those who had seized Jesus led Him away to Caiaphas, the high priest, where the scribes and the elders were gathered together. 58 But Peter was following Him at a distance as far as the courtyard of the high priest, and entered in, and sat down with the officers to see the outcome. 59 Now the chief priests and the whole Council kept trying to obtain false testimony against Jesus, so that they might put Him to death. 60 They did not find any, even though many false witnesses came forward. But later on two came forward, 61 and said, “This man stated, ‘I am able to destroy the temple of God and to rebuild it in three days.’” 62 The high priest stood up and said to Him, “Do You not answer? What is it that these men are testifying against You?” 63 But Jesus kept silent. And the high priest said to Him, “I adjure You by the living God, that You tell us whether You are the Christ, the Son of God.” 64 Jesus said to him, “You have said it yourself; nevertheless I tell you, hereafter you will see THE SON OF MAN SITTING AT THE RIGHT HAND OF POWER, and COMING ON THE CLOUDS OF HEAVEN.” 65 Then the high priest tore his robes and said, “He has blasphemed! What further need do we have of witnesses? Behold, you have now heard the blasphemy; 66 what do you think?” They answered, “He deserves death!” 67 Then they spat in His face and beat Him with their fists; and others slapped Him, 68 and said, “Prophesy to us, You Christ; who is the one who hit You?”

Luke 22: 54 Having arrested Him, they led Him away and brought Him to the house of the high priest; but Peter was following at a distance. 55 After they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and had sat down together, Peter was sitting among them. 56 And a servant-girl, seeing him as he sat in the firelight and looking intently at him, said, “This man was with Him too.” 57 But he denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not know Him.” 58 A little later, another saw him and said, “You are one of them too!” But Peter said, “Man, I am not!” 59 After about an hour had passed, another man began to insist, saying, “Certainly this man also was with Him, for he is a Galilean too.” 60 But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about.” Immediately, while he was still speaking, a rooster crowed. 61 The Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how He had told him, “Before a rooster crows today, you will deny Me three times.” 62 And he went out and wept bitterly.

The rigors of Jesus' ministry (that is, traveling by foot throughout the land) would have precluded any major physical illness or a weak general constitution. Accordingly, it is reasonable to assume that Jesus was in good physical condition before his walk to Gethsemane. However, during the 12 hours between 9 PM Thursday and 9 AM Friday, he had suffered great emotional stress (as evidenced by hematidrosis), abandonment by his closest friends (the disciples), and a physical beating (after the first Jewish trial), and a sleepless night.

Mark 15: 2 Pilate questioned Him, “Are You the King of the Jews?” And He answered him, “It is as you say.” 3 The chief priests began to accuse Him harshly. 4 Then Pilate questioned Him again, saying, “Do You not answer? See how many charges they bring against You!” 5 But Jesus made no further answer; so Pilate was amazed.

Luke 23: 6 When Pilate heard it, he asked whether the man was a Galilean. 7 And when he learned that He belonged to Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent Him to Herod, who himself also was in Jerusalem at that time. 8 Now Herod was very glad when he saw Jesus; for he had wanted to see Him for a long time, because he had been hearing about Him and was hoping to see some sign performed by Him. 9 And he questioned Him at some length; but He answered him nothing. 10 And the chief priests and the scribes were standing there, accusing Him vehemently. 11 And Herod with his soldiers, after treating Him with contempt and mocking Him, dressed Him in a gorgeous robe and sent Him back to Pilate. 12 Now Herod and Pilate became friends with one another that very day; for before they had been enemies with each other.

Mark 15: 6Now it was the custom at the Feast to release a prisoner whom the people requested. 7A man called Barabbas was in prison with the insurrectionists who had committed murder in the uprising. 8The crowd came up and asked Pilate to do for them what he usually did. 9"Do you want me to release to you the king of the Jews?" asked Pilate, 10knowing it was out of envy that the chief priests had handed Jesus over to him. 11But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have Pilate release Barabbas instead. 12"What shall I do, then, with the one you call the king of the Jews?" Pilate asked them. 13"Crucify him!" they shouted. 14"Why? What crime has he committed?" asked Pilate. But they shouted all the louder, "Crucify him!" 15Wanting to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas to them. He had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.

Scourging Practices: Flogging was a legal preliminary to every Roman execution, and only women and Roman senators or soldiers (except in eases of desertion) were exempt. The usual instrument was a short whip (flagellum) with several single or braided leather thongs of variable lengths, in which small iron balls or sharp pieces of sheep bones were tied at intervals. Occasionally, staves also were used. For scourging, the man was stripped of his clothing, and his hands were tied to an upright post. The back, buttocks, and legs were flogged either by two soldiers (lictors) or by one who alternated positions. The severity of the scourging depended on the disposition of the lictors and was intended to weaken the victim to a state just short of collapse or death. Although the severity of the scourging is not discussed in the four gospel accounts, a detailed word study of the ancient Greek text for this verse indicates that the scourging of Jesus was particularly harsh. It is not known whether the number of lashes was limited to 39, in accordance with Jewish law. As the Roman soldiers repeatedly struck the victim's back with full force, the iron balls would cause deep contusions, and the leather thongs and sheep bones would cut into the skin and underlying tissues. Then, as the flogging continued, the lacerations would tear into the underlying skeletal muscles and produce quivering ribbons of bleeding flesh, often until the internal organs were visible. Soon, the entire area is an unrecognizable mass of torn, bleeding tissue. Historically, the lictors would often continue flogging even after the victim had gone unconscious, providing they could feel a sufficient pulse. When it is determined by the centurion in charge that the prisoner is near death, the beating is finally stopped. Pain and blood loss generally set the stage for circulatory shock. The extent of blood loss may well have determined how long the victim would survive on the cross.

Even the scene from The Passion of the Christ does not do justice to the gruesomeness of the practice.

Mark 15: 16The soldiers led Jesus away into the palace (that is, the Praetorium) and called together the whole company of soldiers. 17They put a purple robe on him, then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on him. 18And they began to call out to him, "Hail, king of the Jews!" 19Again and again they struck him on the head with a staff and spit on him. Falling on their knees, they paid homage to him. 20And when they had mocked him, they took off the purple robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him out to crucify him.

Isaiah 50: 5 The Sovereign LORD has opened my ears, and I have not been rebellious; I have not drawn back. 6 I offered my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard; I did not hide my face from mocking and spitting.

After the scourging, the soldiers often taunted their victim. The Roman cohort or company was probably 400 to 600 soldiers. The Roman soldiers, amused that this weakened man had claimed to be a king, began to mock him by placing a robe on his shoulders, a crown of thorns on his head, and a wooden staff as a scepter in his right hand. Next, they spat on Jesus and struck him on the head with the wooden staff. Moreover, when the soldiers tore the robe from Jesus' back, they probably reopened the scourging wounds that had clotted with the fabric.

Isaiah 52:14: Just as there were many who were appalled at him, his appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any man and his form marred beyond human likeness.

Some have said that Christ was unrecognizable as to who he was, but the meaning here of the last phrase seems to indicate that Christ was so disfigured at the time of crucifixion that he would not even have been recognized as a human being.

The severe scourging, with its intense pain and appreciable blood loss, most probably left Jesus in a pre-shock state. Moreover, hematidrosis had rendered his skin particularly tender. The physical and mental abuse meted out by the Jews and the Romans, as well as the lack of food, water, and sleep, also contributed to his generally weakened state. Therefore, even before the actual crucifixion, Jesus' physical condition was at least serious and possibly critical.

Matthew 27:31 After they had mocked Him, they took the scarlet robe off Him and put His own garments back on Him, and led Him away to crucify Him. 32 As they were coming out, they found a man of Cyrene named Simon, whom they pressed into service to bear His cross. 33 And when they came to a place called Golgotha, which means Place of a Skull, 34 they gave Him wine to drink mixed with gall; and after tasting it, He was unwilling to drink.

Crucifixion Practices: Crucifixion probably first began among the Persians. Alexander the Great introduced the practice to Egypt and Carthage, and the Romans appear to have learned of it from the Carthaginians. Although the Romans did not invent crucifixions they perfected it as a form of torture and capital punishment that was designed to produce a slow death with maximum pain and suffering. It was one of the most disgraceful and cruel methods of execution and usually was reserved only for slaves, foreigners, revolutionaries, and the vilest of criminals. Roman law usually protected Roman citizens from crucifixion, except perhaps in the case of desertion by soldiers. It was customary for the condemned man to carry his own cross from the flogging post to the site of crucifixion outside the city walls. He was usually naked, unless this was prohibited by local customs. Since the weight of the entire cross was probably well over 300 lb., only the crossbar was carried. The patibulum, weighing 75 to 125 lb. was placed across the nape of the victim's neck and balanced along both shoulders. Usually, the outstretched arms were then were tied to the crossbar. The processional to the site of crucifixion was led by a complete Roman military guard, headed by a centurion. One of the soldiers carried a sign (titulus) on which the condemned man's name and crime were displayed. Later, the titulus would be attached to the top of the cross. The scourging prior to crucifixion served to weaken the condemned man and, if blood loss was considerable, to produce hypotension and even shock. When the victim was thrown to the ground on his back, in preparation for transfixion of the hands, his scourging wounds most likely would become torn open again and contaminated with dirt. Furthermore, with each respiration, the painful scourging wounds would be scraped against the rough wood of the stipes. As a result, blood loss from the back probably would continue throughout the crucifixion ordeal. The criminal was then thrown to the ground on his back, with his arms outstretched along the patibulum. The hands could be nailed or tied to the crossbar, but nailing apparently was preferred by the Romans. The archaeological remains of a crucified body, found in an ossuary near Jerusalem and dating from the time of Christ, indicate that the nails were tapered iron spikes approximately 5 to 7 in long with a square shaft 3/8 inch across. Furthermore, ossuary findings and the Shroud of Turin have documented that the nails commonly were driven through the wrists rather than the palms. With arms outstretched but not taut, the wrists were nailed to the patibulum. It has been shown that the ligaments and bones of the wrist can support the weight of a body hanging from them, but the palms cannot. The driven nail would crush or sever the rather large median nerve. The stimulated nerve would produce excruciating bolts of fiery pain in both arms. Although the severed median nerve would result in paralysis of a portion of the hand, the impalement of various ligaments by the iron spike might produce a claw like grasp. When the nailing was completed, the titulus was attached to the cross, by nails or cords, just above the victim's head. His conviction: “King of the Jews.” Little did they know that was EXACTLY why He was crucified. That was his so-called sentence. The soldiers and the civilian crowd often taunted and jeered the condemned man, and the soldiers customarily divided up his clothes among themselves. Not uncommonly, insects would light upon or burrow into the open wounds or the eyes, ears, and nose of the dying and helpless victim, and birds of prey would tear at these sites. At the site of execution, by law, the victim was given a bitter drink of wine mixed with myrrh (gall) as a mild analgesic, but in the case of Christ, it was refused. The major effect of crucifixion, beyond the excruciating pain, was a marked interference with normal respiration, particularly exhalation. The weight of the body, pulling down on the outstretched arms and shoulders, would tend to fix the intercostal muscles in an inhalation state and thereby hinder passive exhalation. Accordingly, exhalation was primarily diaphragmatic, and breathing was shallow. It is likely that this form of respiration would not suffice and that carbon dioxide in the lungs would soon result. The onset of muscle cramps or tetanic contractions, due to fatigue and carbon dioxide, would hinder respiration even further. Adequate exhalation required lifting the body by pushing up on the feet and by flexing the elbows and adducting the shoulders. However, this maneuver would place the entire weight of the body on the tarsals and would produce searing pain. Furthermore, flexion of the elbows would cause rotation of the wrists about the iron nails and cause fiery pain along the damaged median nerves. Lifting of the body would also painfully scrape the scourged back against the rough wooden stipes. Muscle cramps of the outstretched and uplifted arms would add to the discomfort. As a result, each respiratory effort would become agonizing and tiring and lead eventually to asphyxia. The length of survival generally ranged from three or four hours to three or four days and appears to have been inversely related to the severity of the scourging. However, even if the scourging had been relatively mild, the Roman soldiers could hasten death by breaking the legs below the knees. The quick death of Christ possibly indicates then the severity of the scourging.