I hate it when someone says, "Someone I know..."
But someone I know asked their pastor if he had any interest in visiting Israel. The reply: No, we did a lot of study about the Holy Land in Bible College and don't have any interest in going.
Now I realize that it's dangerous blogging when severely sleep-deprived. And, that we men of the cloth are generally wise to stick together. But I read some books about love once. So when Doreen asked me to marry her, I told her, "No need. Been there. Done that. Here's the book."
A pastor who has no interest in experiencing Israel is akin to a wanna-be husband who has no interest in walking the aisle.
A bit harsh?
To me a pilgrimage to Israel is kind of like showing the one you love the town where you grew up and played in the park and learned to ride a bike and fell down and skinned your knee and fell in love. Only, the one you love is Jesus. And He's showing you where he grew up and learned to walk on water and where he fell and skinned his knee shortly before he was taken just outside the city gates where they put him up on a cross and he did the most important work of his life.
I mean, I believe that stuff is true, and that this little sliver of land called Israel is where God visited the planet in person. Much as I love New Zealand and the States, that means that Israel is home in a deeply profound way that I can hardly put into words. How can it feel like home when I've been there only twice for a total of a couple of weeks?
There's no Grand Canyon. There's no snow-capped Southern Alps. There's only places that God has spoken and revealed himself and done the miraculous. There's only places where Jesus walked and talked and laughed and wept and died. And came back from death. And promised me eternal life. That's all.
It's not a holiday destination. It's not a vacation spot. It's where the words about the One who took on flesh become flesh in a way that we can grasp. Where cherished verses and puzzling phrases from Scripture become three-dimensional and multi-sensory and come to us with all the freshness of a squall on the Sea of Galilee, or the abrasiveness of a sand storm in the Negev.
It's like visiting and re-living Gettysburg, only better.
It's like a refreshing dip at Hahei Beach, only better.
It's like a refreshing dip at Hahei Beach, only better.
It's just so hard to find words, or even a word. So I guess that'll have to do. It's just "better."
