The end and the beginning

Sixteen years ago, in 2005, I took my first “sabbatical.”   I spent two months with the Goethe institut, in Berlin and Bad Godesburg, then about 10 days visiting Christmas markets.   My husband dropped me that morning at the bus station in Goslar (he would be flying separately, accompanying a friend to the US to visit her family.).  And I sat there and cried.   I was full of grief that it was over.   (It must be said that I was in a job that I was really unhappy in, and had only held on because of the promise of a workplace sabbatical - 10 weeks unpaid leave, and that I’d start a new job about two months after that day on the platform in Goslar.)

I am not crying today.  While the experience of these sixteen weeks has been truly wonderful, even more magical than my 2005 break, it has led me even deeper into the love of the community that awaits me at home.  I cannot wait to share the experience with them, I cannot express the joy to be returning not just to my churches, in both the local and other settings, but also friends, family, all the loved ones I have not connected with for three and a half months, starting with my cousin Loraine, who is hosting me tonight, and my husband, daughter and granddaughter, who will pick me up tomorrow afternoon in Lewistown. 

The emotion I am feeling most keenly today is gratitude.   This sabbatical was an amazing, wonderful gift, and I am grateful to everyone who made it possible.   Please indulge me a minute while I mention some of them.

I am grateful to, first, foremost and most, my churches, St Peter’s UCC and St. Peter’s Lutheran in Rebersburg, Christ UCC in Madisonburg, and the Allegheny Synod of the ELCA and the Penn Central Conference of the UCC, who supported me in asking for a Sabbatical, in my Lilly Endowment application, and provided support to one another in my absence. 

I am grateful to the Lilly Endowment for Clergy Renewal, which funded this grand adventure, and who were so flexible about changes when we had changes.  

I am grateful to Janet Curtis, who helped me apply for the Lilly Grant, and who supported me every step of the way (even reading this blog!)

I am grateful to the family and friends who cheered me on, especially those who stepped up when a family emergency occurred mid-sabbatical. 

I am thankful to Dietrich and Ute, Birke and Birgit, who run Brot und Rosen, and all the folks living there, now and in the future.   Living in community with you for that time really solidified what this sabbatical was all about.   I love you all, I will get that newsletter article written, I will send a small gift for A’s first birthday, and I will keep in touch and return some day. 

I am thankful to the countries of Europe: Scotland, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, and Greece, for inviting me in in this difficult time, for making me feel welcome, for helping me when I did not speak your language (and for the folks who told me how well I speak German, even though I am not certain that is precisely true.).  My country did not reciprocate, even though Covid was more prevalent there and precautions are far less carefully followed.   I am glad that is changing in the next few weeks.   And Israel, who did not let me in - I’ll be there, when I can do my travel on my terms.   I know it will be a while, but I hope not too many years. 

I am especially grateful for the people.  The delivery guy and the construction workers who made sure I had sufficient food during my isolation in Edinburgh.  My friends in St. Andrews who met with me, and shared a lovely dinner together.  The hostel owner in Oban, who was so helpful when her hostel had to close because of a Covid exposure.  All the amazing people of the Wild Goose Worship Group who had this wonderful, wonderful retreat to kick off the sabbatical over a week in Iona. 

The young woman who helped me when Covid regulations in Germany changed, and no one could find the German PLF form online.   The apartment owner in Italy who let me stay in his little house, so amazingly nice, let me use his phone number so I could order food, and checked in with me via WhatsApp to make sure everything was OK.  

The community of Nuns, of Monks, and of PIlgrims in Assisi, who helped me understand Francis a little better, and who let me pray with them, even though I’m protestant. 

The city of Geneva, for giving me a free transit ticket, which made moving through that city, and taking the ferries so easy!   The churches in Zurich, all open for me and welcoming.

My brother, his wife, and especially his children, who provided me with some much needed downtime, access to some recreation that was not as touristic, and a lot of fun. Eva, your soccer game, and selling snacks was so much fun, Oliver, your smile is still in my heart.   I hope to see you in two years, maybe in Portugal, and to always be a part of your live.  Aunt Julie loves you. 

The community of nuns in Wittenberg, with whom I could pray twice a day, and who welcomed me so warmly into their hearts, and the people of Erfurt,who welcomed me into their Oktoberfest, and helped me discover that Radler made with the fresh raspberry soda!   Yum!   

The people all over Greece, who were willing to talk to me when all my Greek was Kalimera (and Dr. Newheart, because of whom I could actually make out the Greek letters - thank you!). Especially people on Ferries and Islands, and archeological sites.   Matt Barrett and Rick Steves and Lonely Planet, who gave me numerous ideas when my plans for Israel fell through. The families who ran the hostel in Meteora, the hotel on Kos and the Pension in Nafplio, who share their home cooked jams and lemonade and make these lodgings feel like you are a guest in someone’s home.  These were truly the best places I stayed.

The Polish Catholic (I think) Community of Nafplio who made me feel welcome at their masses, even though I’m a protestant, and a preacher at that.  The same with the Orthodox churches that provided me a place to pray.   I have a new understanding of the body of Christ because of you. 

Gratitude for every server and hotel maid, every ticket clerk, every tour guide, every person who translated a museum sign, checked my vaccination certificate.

And last, but most, my family, Mark, Catherine, Audrey, who carried on without me for sixteen weeks, who resisted asking me too many questions about what was going on at home, who managed the CSA and the morning coffee pot (but Mark always does that - what a gift.) 

You are all the best.   You all made this amazing. 

This blog is not over.   As I transition back to regular life, I’ll review and report on this Sabbatical in a variety of ways.   Most notably, I will do some slide shows to share my travels and my adventure.  I expect to do this over the winter, probably starting in mid to late January.   I’ll share over an internet conference as well as in person at my churches, and will put some of the best photos up here and on Facebook Live.    I’ll also continue blogging as I ponder what all this means and go back over my four books of notes from the last 16 weeks.  Stay tuned, and join me!

Paul’s steps in Athens - and a mistake

Paul made mistakes.   I think Athens was one.   He went there because it was the big city, and I’m sure he expected to evangelize lots of folks.   He went out of his way to meet the people where they were.   I visited the Acropolis, which was certainly one place people were in ancient Athens! Then I visited Mars Hill, the Areopagus in Acts, where Paul’s spoke about the “altar to a foreign God.” And next, I thought, I’ll go to the Forum.  But first some lunch.  It was, after all, almost 2 PM, and though I have been eating late, I was hungry. 

The day before I’d picked up a ticket for a local HOHO (Hop on Hop Off) bus, which was good through today, and I’d be darned if I was going to pay for a metro ride or walk when I had a free ticket.   And as I approached the Acropolis stop, there was a bus, just getting ready to leave.  I hopped on through it’s back doors after showing my ticket. 

You can cue the “wrong!” Buzzer here.   There were no seats, so I stood.  And stood.  And stood.   The next stop never came.   Looking out the window, I saw we were entering the highway.  To Piraeus, the port.   The ticket I had was good on three routes, Athens city center, Port of Piraeus and the Beaches east of Athens.     Looking at my map I began to have a sinking feeling.   It looked like the Port of Piraeus busses then went to the beaches.   I was in for a long ride. 

So I went to the beaches!   Which were lovely.  I did not get off the bus, even though I got quite cold (it was raining and this was one of those open top HOHOs, so the wind was coming down from the upper storey.   After Piraeus, I was able to get a seat.  But I did my best to appreciate what I had, rather than wish for what I had originally planned.  The forum will wait until another day.  

When Paul finally went to Corinth after Athens, I wonder what drew him there?  In Corinth, unlike Athens, he achieved his goal (while he did convert people in Athens, we don’t have a letter to the Athenians, do we?). He would spend a year and a half there.  He would write some of the most beautiful words in scripture to that church, and ultimately to us.   We take what we are given.   As the pillow in my office says, Love the people God gave you.  It’s a great first step.  And in three days I’ll be preparing to go home and love those people that God gave me.  

Community, again

I have, as I said yesterday, been feeling a llittle disconnected, so I decided to act on an idea I got when I arrived yesterday.

Upon arrival at my pension, the check in clerk, giving me directions, told me to turn at the Catholic Church.   This is a real landmark, because though there are a zillion churches in Greece, there are very few Catholic ones.   95% of the population is Orthodox, the next most frequent religion is, I think, Islam.  

So I did turn at the church, noting that they have mass every day, 9AM M,T,W, 7 PM Thur, F, S, and 11 AM on Sunday. an I thought, maybe I’ll stop in.   Yes, it will be in Greek, but one advantage of having grown up catholic is that I know the structure of the mass and what is being prayed and can pray along.   AS much as I love the freer expression of liturgy in my own tradition, having the prayers change means that this is harder in those rare cases when you cannot understand the language.   

The community was saying the rosary when I came in and quietly step down.  There were 5 of them, three men, including the priest, and two women, who were the musicians. They did a FULL hour mass, complete with hymns and special music, at 9 AM on a Wednesday morning.  

And they welcome me so warmly.  The priest delayed slightly starting mass to introduce himself to me and find out what my language was, he sprinkled the mass with various little bits of English, including rereading a couple verses, the key verses of his homily, I think, from the scripture.  After communion, he told the musicians to sing in English, but they gave him a strange look and went along an sang “Magnificat, anima mea Dominum,” of course, in Latin.  

During the mass I kept thinking that their Greek sounded very German, about halfway though the homily I realized this was German, just with an accent I did not really know well, maybe Swabian?   I’m not sure.   In any case at the end I had a great, spirited conversation with them in GErman and promised to come back. 

It was a nurturing and wonderful surprise.  It makes Nafplio no longer just a place to fill out the leftover time in my Sabbatical, but a place of spiritual nurturance for me.  And this trip is more and more about the community we make for the love of God. 

No photo.  I did take some photos of the church, and of the underground chapel one of the men showed me afterwards, but I I’d it with my camera, not my phone, so I won’t have it till I get home.

Leaving Crete

I have not been blogging regularly, and the reason is that right now I am feeling disconnected. 

I came to Crete because it is an island mentioned in the New Testament.   Acts 27:7-15.   It is the last place Paul was before Malta.  The weather was turning (much as it is now - we had severe thunderstorms in this semi-tropical place the first two days I was here, to the extent that the ceiling in my room was leaking, fortunately not ON anyone or their stuff, but still leaking).  Paul sets in to Fair Harbor, a place that still exists and which is actually still named the same thing, but which I could not get to.   Or rather I could not get back from, since the KTEL (Greek Bus) page shows busses going there, but I could not find any busses returning, alas.   I could connect with Paul in the turning of the seasons, in the coming of the storm, and in the preparation for a last journey. 

Another reason that I am feeling disconnected is, since coming to Greece I have not been able to worship with a community.  One of the findings of this Sabbatical, maybe the biggest one, is that I need that, and that I benefit greatly from it spiritually.  I hope to find it at home.   Maybe my community would be likewise interested.   Maybe when he retires, my husband would be.  Maybe I can find a community online.  Maybe I can co lead a local group with other pastor(s).   In any case I intend to look into it when I return, maybe starting something up in Lent.  Or earlier, in Advent!  I have, gladly, visited all sorts of churches, but the cultural disconnect (95% of Greeks are Orthodox Christians - which is a very different thing, liturgically - I believe the next largest group are Muslim) and the language barrier have led to me not having a place to worship on Sunday or on weekdays.   Hopefully, next week, I will find something in Athens.  

The last reason I am feeling disconnected, is that I am missing home and family.   It has been a long time now, more than 3 months, and I am ready to return.    I could travel longer with my husband or my daughter, or my granddaughter, but alone is a different thing.  I miss them.   I miss having conversations with my granddaughter that are not manic (she gets very much bouncing off walls when we talk - and I am sure it is the distance and the stress of the call).  I miss holding my husband.   I miss the community of Church at home, and cannot wait to be back with them!  I miss cooking, and putting together a five ingredient dish in the hostel just doesn’t count.   I work just fine alone, but Covid further estranges one: we make sure there are sufficient feet between us in the bedroom, we wear masks everywhere.   

It will ultimately take me some time to sort through my photographs (an obscene number of them!) reread my journals, and process the last three months.  It so far has been wonderful and glorious, but just like for Paul, the season is coming to its end; I can see the signs of the coming change.  

My next location is Nafplio. This has zero biblical significance, but the only Greek location that I have not yet been to and still wish to go is Athens, and I am doing that at the end of this journey.  So Nafplio will just be rest and recreation.    I’ll probably blog once, then give you more as I go to Athens, and again walk in Paul’s steps.

Walking with Paul the tent maker

When I realized that I was not going to o be able to get to Israel this trip (ironically they may open to independent travelers in November) I spent more time with Paul, listening to Acts and all the letters (since Titus supposedly came from Crete, I wanted to read the dieters-Pauline letters as well as the genuine Pauline letters.   

Yesterday, looking fora way to fill the long day in Piraeus, after the long day sitting at the ferry station in Patmos, I chanced upon a solo tour, via taxi, of Corinth.   I jumped on it, even though it was kind of expensive.   I am so glad I did.

The driver, Andreas, psi a lot of attention to me..   He gave me water and postcards and a little book about Greece, but most importantly, he ha information.  He had a couple of lectures queued up on his iPad, including one tracing the biblical connections between Acts1 and 18, and Paul’s letters to the Corinthians, that I could watch during the long trip, and even found a lecture on the archaeology of Crete and the palace of Knossos for me to watch on the way back.  He got me to all the places I wanted to go,gave me enough time at them, then brought me back to the ship, helped me get my ticket (help I probably didn’t actually need) and get to the right ferry dock (help that actually saved me a whole lot of bother.) 

His kindness and care were remarkable.   I was deeply grateful for it.

The most exciting thing about Corinth is it’s connection to Paul is very specific, coming in both Acts 18 and the letters to the Corinthians.    Down to specific, verified site.   The Bema in the middle of the site, pictured above, was where in Acts 18, Paul was brought before the Roman governor.  This WAS the Bema in those days, the function of the spot was exactly what is described in scripture.  There is no tradition or guesses or supposition.   Paul stood here, the Roman Governor sat there, this is where things happened.   

Also fascinating and moving was the areas of the Agora, where shops would have been set up, and where a tent maker, and his buddies, would have had a shop.  Maybe not exactly one or the other, but a liklihood that somewhere in these ruins was the site of the three tentmakers, as reported in Acts.  

And in Acrocorinth, the site of the temple to Aphrodite, I meditate a bit on how practices at that temple might have heightened Paul’s concerns about sexual sin and the Corinthian churches (a thread in these letters.)

Amazing.

Just before we came down to the site, Andreas stopped me by a fairly modern (1970s,  I think he said) church.  In their front garden was a huge marble block, with a bible chapter inscribed on it in 4 languages, one side each Aramaic, Greek, English and French.   It’s 1 Corinthians 13.   While I don’t like that chapter by itself, but LOVE it in the context of Chapter 12, it really touched me this day.    I was being loved by a fellow Christian. 

Yeah, he got a sizable tip.  

Addendum:  I’m running out of biblical stuff to do.  So I’ll be doing some tourist stuff during the last two weeks.  On Sunday, if the weather cooperates (right now the ceiling in my hostel room is leaking, and we have towels on the floor trying to soak it up, an the forecast for Sunday is iffy) I will take a full day trip to hike the Samaria Gorge.   If the weather does not cooperate, I’ll do that the next time I am in Crete.   After I leave Crete I’ll spend a few nights in Nafplio, and a couple nights on Hydra before going to Athens for the last six nights.    I’ll be back in the states on the 30th and back at home the evening of the 31st.    This adventure started 3 months ago today, and I have only 17 days left.    

Delightful Kos - Amazing Rhodes: Chasing Paul’s stopovers.

Acropolis of Kos

Acts 21:1 reads “ And so, with the tearful good-byes behind us, we were on our way. We made a straight run to Cos, the next day reached Rhodes, and then Patara.” (The Message)

Faced with three extra weeks in Greece, I am struggling to fill it.   I decided to visit a few islands, and for most of them picked islands that were at least mentioned in Paul’s journeys.   Attempts to add Samos and Ephesus in Turkey were foiled by ferry schedules disrupted by Covid and, more importantly, the end of the tourist season.   So the islands I’m visiting are Patmos, Kos (Cos), Rhodes, Crete (later in Acts, just before Malta) and possibly a couple days in Hydra just before Athens. 

Chasing Paul in Kos was pretty fruitless, so I did a lot of hiking.  A lot, including one very long day when I hiked to the major archeological site on the island, the Aeskleption, hiked back to town, explored another archeological site in town (the west site, as I’d done the Acropolis of Kos the day before) AND the archeological museum.   Looking at healing, exploring Hippocrates and the concept of healing in ancient times was quite possible, so that was my approach.

At the same time, I was completely taken by modern-day Kos!  It’s a wonderful island, with lovely beaches, lots of amazing food, an island-wide network of hiking trails, mountain biking, snorkeling, bike lanes throughout town (I have seen this no where else in Greece).   And I was in a great little family-run hotel for just 30 euro a night!   

Rhodes was almost as enchanting, especially the old town, and I was able to chase Paul to the town of Lindos, where a natural harbor called St. Paul’s Bay is traditionally the place that Paul’s ship docked in Rhodes.   It was an hour and a half bus ride each way, but I visited St. Paul’s bay, and the Acropolis of Lindos above that would have existed and looked down on the harbor in Paul’s day. And I actually swam in St. Paul’s Bay.

Both of these islands are places I’d love to return to, to explore as something other than a redirected pilgrim, share with my family.

John’s Patmos

Above, monastery of St. John the Theologian, Patmos.

Several of my blog entries have somehow disappeared.   I am not sure that they successfully published.  I can’t replace them as they were, but I can add some new ones, meditating on the sights that I’ve seen in the last week on Patmos, Kos (Cos in the Bible) and Rhodes.

I am sorry that I can’t offer a photo of the cave of the Apocalypse (Revelation) on Patmos.   It was really a cave, with a silver ring where John supposedly laid his head, a silver ring where he used a handhold, and a cloth and book where his scribe supposedly wrote down the Book of Revelation.   Seven times - since John wrote this supposedly for the seven churches. 

While I was visiting I listened to Revelation.   I have a Common English Bible from Audible, so I have been listening to the books related to my journeys as we go.  Revelation is, of course, a widely misunderstood book.   It’s often seen as a prediction of the future, but is actually a critique of the contemporary times of St. John, and of the Roman occupation of his time and it’s excesses.   That said, when I was listening I was struck by how the middle, violent part of the book is dwarfed by the rest of it.

The rest of it is about how churches are and are not churches, with warnings about failures that we fall into, things that are sometimes common in today’s churches, not just the persecuted churches of Asia Minor that John was preaching to.    How often, for example, are we neither hot nor cold but lukewarm?  Kind of following Christ, but not really going the full way to do so, maybe just happy with our Sunday to Sunday experience and not really putting ourselves out there?  And at the end of course the glorious vision of the end of the war with God winning, and the New Jerusalem descending. 

Because that is the real message of the book, that God wins, despite our failures, despite the real presence of evil in the world, despite, even the lack of religiosity in our current times - God wins.   Not actually in an “apocalyptic” end times way - that is a fable designed to teach us a little of how evil manifests itself in the world, today, as well as in the days of the Roman Empire - but in an irresistible, inevitable way.   God wins.  Amen.  

And an unexpected relationship

Iulia (her name is essentially the Russian version of Julie: first thing in common) and I met during a moment which was not good for either of us. We’d missed a train.   The guy in the ticket office had given both of us the same wrong information, and we sat at a track while our train pulled away on another track.  Silently. We never heard it 

We complained long and loud, but it was only when I said, it really doesn’t matter whose fault it is, please help us fix this, that he did, suggesting that we talk to the supervisor of the next train going in the right direction, which we did, and she let us on the train.   And he changed our tickets to Kalambaka for us, so we would have a train to change to.

Iulia and I spent the whole train ride talking and getting to know each other.   We are terribly different: she is in her 40s with a child still in school, and one out in the world, we are on basically different ends of the spectrum in handling Covid, me vaccinated and wearing a mask religiously, and she being the Russian equivalent of a vaccine denier who basically refuses to wear a mask (at one point she accepted from me one of my cloth ones, because she liked the pattern, and the conductor was getting real testy about it, but she still took it off when he was out of the way. 

But we bonded. And we ran into each other the next day at Agios Triados (Holy Trinity) Monastery, and I asked her to join me for dinner, which we did, and enjoyed each other.   Now she has an invitation to the US when all this mess is over, and I have one to visit Russia (though she lives 16 hours by train east of Moscow, so it might be a while until my travels take me there.)

Strange and wonderful; we have been connecting with each other via WhatsApp since.  

An unexpected pleasure

   

I spent three nights in Kalambaka and I hiked the amazing Holy Rocks in Meteora, one of the highlights of Greece, I am told.   In the process I visite six orthodox monasteries, and a 9th-11th century church, and made a new friend.

The rocks in Meteora were created by a unique blend of minerals resulting in almost a natural concrete, and shaped by unique forces into towering rock columns, more than a thousand of them, in a relatively small area north of the towns of Kalambaka and Kastraki in northern Greece.  They are an awe inspiring natural phenomenon, but even more awe inspiring is the people who have come here to dedicate their lives, their whole lives, every bit of it, to their God 

Six monasteries remain, at one point there were many more.  Four have small numbers of men (1 to 3) and two of them house about a total of 40 women.   The monasteries are available to tour, indeed the nuns make a good living off selling souvenirs and religious goods, but they do both, invite the public in and send them out with souvenirs, in the hope that God’s spirit will break into their lives, that their example of faith may spark faith in others.

And they are real about it.  On finding out I was a Protestant minister, one nun spent a while in broken English, telling me about her favorite saint, and why he inspires her faith.   Never mind that customers were waiting.   She was so enthusiastic and so fully committed. 

There is a lot of solitude here, but there is also community: around the dinner table, in the community prayer, just in living with each other.  The monks and nuns at the six monasteries in the air are aware of the others who have come here, and who live there now.  When the fog dips low over these structures, they surely live literally within that great cloud of witnesses 

If my plans had gone as planned, I would have completely missed this.   I came to Meteora only because I was not going to Israel.   I wonder what other surprises are in store for me here 

Too fast

I did Thessaloniki too fast. 

Mostly on this trip, I have been taking things at a slower pace, trying to savor the ambiance and what happened here.  But I only scheduled 10 days for Greece, originally, and I did not alter the first few days when Israel fell through 

That left me with three nights booked in Thessaloniki, (at one of the best hostels I’ve been at yet.)  I could easily have spent four or five days here, Thessaloniki, with it’s richness of treasures, varied neighborhoods and wonderful day trip possibilities, could easily support a week. 

Instead I was going out at 7, intime to visit churches or to grab a bus to the airport even earlier, going all day, putting major miles on my hiking boots eating late and falling exhausted into bed at night.

That did not mean there were not wonderful moments.   Let me share three of them. 

The first night I took a free walking tour with Giorgious of Thessalonikifreewalks.com.  It was a hilarious walk through Greek mythology, appropriate this close to Mt Olympus.  Each person was assigned a Greek God to be, mine was Demeter, and we walked about normal Greek streets and houses and the businesses that support them, not tourists, stopping where the business invoked something about a myth.  For example, we talked about Hermès in front of the Post Office and by a pharmacy.   I can’t begin to explain the fun of the tour, but I did end up having dinner with the tour guide and some of the participants.  It was a lovely evening of  connecting. 

Second was a moment the next morning when I walked into the Agios Demetrios.  There was something just so solemn and sacred about the very atmosphere in the large, Byzantine church.  Maybe it was the darkness, punctuated by candles, maybe it was the people stopping in for a prayer at 7:30 in the morning before they started their day, maybe it was the intensity of the icons, Maybe it was my tiredness, I don’t know, but I felt very close to God in that Holy Place.   Same thing at the Agios Sophia, to a lesser extent. 

The third was walking in Philippi.   It really felt, much more than Thessaloniki, like walking in the steps of the Bible, of Paul.   While it was a thrill to see his supposed cave prison, the real joy was the Octagon there, and imagining the people, 1700 years ago, finally able to build a building to honor God, after centuries of their religion being illegal. The joy is still palpable in the ruins.   It still felt like a holy place as well.