Wednesday 15 August -- Holy Land 2018 Day 3: Around the Sea of Galilee

Ignore the time/distance tag

This, our first full day in the Holy Land, was the Feast of the Annunciation -- a Holy Day of Obligation commemorating the Assumption of Our Lady into heaven at the end of her earthly life. Preserved free from Original and Actual Sin by the prevenient graces of her Son, it was only right that her body should not know corruption any more than that of her Son. Such has been believed since time immemorial although it was only declared a dogma of the Catholic Church in 1950. We will be going to the Church of the Dormition on Mt. Zion later during this pilgrimage – one of the reputed sites from which Our Lady was taken up bodily into heaven – and had our schedule not changed for reasons unknown to me, it would have been very fitting for our Mass for this holy day to take place at the site of another great event associated with Mary – Cana, where Jesus worked his first miracle at her urging. But Cana would have to wait for tomorrow. Instead, Mass was at a site central to her son's mission in Galilee, with a message central to his very identity....

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A phone call woke me up at 07:30, but longer time getting ready due to my impaired left arm made me a little late to breakfast. It was a magnificent spread, though! We found out that we are already departing from our published schedule, flip-flopping the next two days, today staying in the environs of the Sea of Galilee.

We began with a bus trip around the northwestern shore of the Sea of Galilee to Capernaum. In the daylight the rugged nature of the landscape was even more impressive than what I saw from the bus last night. During that first drive we met our guide, named Anton or just "Tony," an Israeli Christian (Melkite Catholic) born and with deep roots in the Christian Quarter of Jerusalem. He didn't join us last night because he did not arrive back from a period of service in the Israeli Defense Force until too late to join on that ride. He is great! -- a Biblical archaeologist, he has worked on at least one of the sites we are going to be seeing! He knows his stuff -- both historically and religiously. I (and everyone else) immediately liked him. (See Note at bottom of page.)

Capernaum – “CAPHARNAUM THE TOWN OF JESUS” as the sign declares – was Jesus’ home and base of operations for most of his period of ministry as described in the Gospels. It was also the home of half of the disciples, including the fishermen among the group – Peter and Andrew, James and John – as well as of Matthew the tax collector. Not inhabited for over a thousand years, the town is now important for its archaeological sites, including a synagogue that has been dated mostly to the AD 4th c. (the white part) atop a 1st c. foundation (the black part), as well as a church built over the ruins of what is said to have been St. Peter’s house, where Jesus healed Peter’s mother-in-law.

As a “church” it’s dreadfully modern in its construction – in the round, open and airy. But it might be excused because, in truth, its primary function is not as a church at all, but rather as a showcase for the archaeology. In the center, below a glass floor surrounded by rails – you can’t walk on it! – can be seen the excavated remains of Peter’s house. You can also see those same remains from the side, underneath the church, which is specifically built so as to leave the site undisturbed and protected from the elements.

Padre said our first Mass here in the Holy Land, with a homily emphasizing how it was here, in this place -- at Capernaum, in the Galilee, in Israel in general -- that the Son of God came into history and changed everything. It was here, in this place would figure in Padre's every homily and much of Tony's exposition throughout the week.

Afterward, Tony described the archaeology of the site, as well as the adjacent ruins of the Jewish Synagogue -- the one where Jesus preached.

(Apologies for poor audio quality
in this and other videos.)

     And they went into Capernaum; and immediately on the sabbath he entered the synagogue and taught. And they were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one who had authority, and not as the scribes. (Mark 1: 21-22)

According to John’s Gospel – in the long Bread of Life Discourse in chapter 6 – Jesus scandalized the people and many of his own followers by declaring:

     "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats me will live because of me. This is the bread which came down from heaven, not such as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live for ever." This he said in the synagogue, as he taught at Capernaum. (John 6: 53b-59).

We drove only a short distance -- none of our drives were long today -- to Tabgha, the site of the Miracle of the Multiplication of the Loaves and the Fishes. The name comes from the Greek Heptapegon, "Seven Springs."

Photo from Wikipedia

     Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick. When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, "This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves." Jesus said to them, "They need not go away; you give them something to eat." They replied, "We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish." And he said, "Bring them here to me." Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children. (Matt. 14: 13-21).

The Church of the Multiplication of the Loaves and the Fishes is another good example of our -- or at least my -- false expectation of incredibly ancient churches. Most we are seeing turn out not to be that old. They are fairly modern, although they have ancient elements. And overall they are, I am afraid, relatively bland as far as decor goes – nothing like the spectacular churches of Italy or even more so Mexico. I think there may be a reason for both of these “oddities.” First, most of the churches are of fairly recent construction, for one reason or another. The historical violence of this part of the world has a lot to do with it; most of the earliest churches from the Byzantine era (taking that to basically be from the legalization of Christianity in the early 4th century) were destroyed by the Persians in 614; at various times afterward, the Muslims including the so-called "Chivalrous Muslim" Saladin, wiped out most of the churches or converted them to mosques. Secondly, I imagine that, even when a particular church might be overseen by a particular Christian group or denomination, the fact is that pilgrims from every denomination imaginable come to Israel and worship at these sites, so that the relative blandness is ecumenical in origin. But ultimately, if the reconstruction is Post-Vatican II Catholic, well … quid plura?

Each church does, nonetheless, have their own special aura, if only from knowing the significance of what they are commemorating if not exactly how they do it. In the Church of the Multiplication there is, beneath the altar (a post-Vatican II free-standing altar, naturally), a famous mosaic of two fish flanking a basket of bread like a set of parentheses. Oddly, the basket has only four loaves ... "oddly" until the symbolism is explained -- Jesus Himself is "the fifth loaf."

We then drove a short distance to the Church of Peter’s Primacy, right on the shore of the Sea. The story is told basically as the last chapter of John’s Gospel: 

     After this Jesus revealed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he revealed himself in this way. Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples were together. Simon Peter said to them, "I am going fishing." They said to him, "We will go with you." They went out and got into the boat; but that night they caught nothing. 
     Just as day was breaking, Jesus stood on the beach; yet the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, "Children, have you any fish?" They answered him, "No." He said to them, "Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some." So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in, for the quantity of fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!" When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his clothes, for he was stripped for work, and sprang into the sea. But the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, but about a hundred yards off. 

     When they got out on land, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish lying on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught." So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, a hundred and fifty-three of them; and although there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." Now none of the disciples dared ask him, "Who are you?" They knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and so with the fish. This was now the third time that Jesus was revealed to the disciples after he was raised from the dead. 
     When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you." He said to him, "Feed my lambs." A second time he said to him, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you." He said to him, "Tend my sheep." He said to him the third time, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, "Do you love me?" And he said to him, "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you." Jesus said to him, "Feed my sheep. Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you girded yourself and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish to go." (This he said to show by what death he was to glorify God.) And after this he said to him, "Follow me." 
     Peter turned and saw following them the disciple whom Jesus loved, who had lain close to his breast at the supper and had said, "Lord, who is it that is going to betray you?" When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, "Lord, what about this man?’ Jesus said to him, "If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? Follow me!" The saying spread abroad among the brethren that this disciple was not to die; yet Jesus did not say to him that he was not to die, but, "If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you?" 
     This is the disciple who is bearing witness to these things, and who has written these things; and we know that his testimony is true. 
     But there are also many other things which Jesus did; were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written. (John 21: 1-25)

The large rock upon which was the “charcoal fire” in which Jesus had grilled some fish and baked some bread is called the Mensa Christi, the “Table of Christ.” There, by his threefold affirmation of love for Christ, Peter atoned for his earlier threefold betrayal (by a charcoal fire) during the Passion. There, Jesus commissioned specifically him, Peter, to feed and tend his sheep – but also foretold Peter’s own ultimate end in martyrdom.


As might be expected given the story, there was easy access via a beach straight down from the church to the shore; several went down there but I did not. At some point this morning, however, I did get a chance to chat a bit with Brother Miguel about his religious status. He was introduced to us as a "consecrated layman" of the same order that Padre Emilio belongs to, the Sodalitium Christianae Vitae, founded by a layman in Peru in the 1970s. Specifically, I wondered if his status was anything like a Benedictine Oblate such as I am myself. It is not. As I understand it, his is more akin to a monk or a friar, including the three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Wikipedia has a good summary of the order here [LINK] (unfortunately including accusations of scandal -- financial, sexual, and political -- that have plagued the order and ultimately led to a Papal take-over earlier this year. I only just discovered those, although they have been widely reported in both the Catholic and the secular press, and the subject never came up on this pilgrimage. I would not expect it to, and frankly, in this day and age of ubiquitous "fake news" I don't know what to believe about it -- except to say that from what I witnessed in a week with Fr. Emilio and Brother Miguel, I have no doubt that they are in no way involved in anything of the sort.)

Photo by Kathie

Lunch was at the nearby Tanureen Galilee Restaurant (another Steve Ray site, I believe), where I had the full St. Peter's Fish, with the head left on it. I didn't do it justice in eating it (especially the head, especially the eyes!) -- I got it that way, I said, mainly for "bragging rights." Of course, the fish is really tilapia -- but I had it full on, on the Sea of Galilee! ... I just picked at it around the many bones; Brother Miguel, on the other hand, demolished it.

Incidentally, the proprietors at Tanureen are Lebanese Christians; throughout our pilgrimage, Tony would steer us whenever possible to Christian establishments for reasons that would become clear. Also, although our breakfasts and dinners were included in the pilgrimage package overall, our lunches were not; nevertheless, quite wisely, rather than letting us scatter on our own for lunch Tony generally set up our plans all together and told us how much it would be (generally ten to twenty dollars) ... so we all ate together, which is, I repeat, best -- I can't imagine the difficulty of trying to gather us back in after lunch to head out on our next jaunt were we not already together!

Photo by Kristal

After lunch, it was time for the boat ride on the Sea of Galilee, departing from the Kibbutz Ginosar. The boat was a replica of the 1st-c. boat discovered fairly recently, almost miraculously preserved. Ours was auspiciously named "Noah." As we motored out (that's actually one big difference!), after they ran up the American flag and played the Star Spangled Banner, Tony gave a really good talk about the Jordan River and the Sea of Galilee as an image of the Life of Christ, as well as describing the surrounding terrain. Near the end, the boat captain invited everyone to learn to dance the Hava Nagilla, the traditional Jewish celebration dance. I begged off since I cannot extend my left arm -- instead I took the following video:

We did not go into the exhibit of the actual 1st-c. Galilean boat there at the kibbutz, but instead mounted back up for the ride to the Mount of the Beatitudes, during which we had time to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet. 

Of course, the Beatitudes are just the opening of the long Sermon on the Mount, but they are the most familiar part to almost everyone. They are perhaps the best exposition of Jesus' preaching of the Kingdom of Heaven and the blessings that are ours for following him. 

  Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down his disciples came to him. And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying:
     "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 
     "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. 
     "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. 
     "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. 
     "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. 
     "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. 

At first glance I misread this,
"Blessed are the pacemakers...."
Works for me!

     "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. 
     "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 
     "Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so men persecuted the prophets who were before you.’ …
      And when Jesus finished these sayings, the crowds were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one who had authority, and not as their scribes. (Matt. 5: 1-7: 29). 


Padre led a few of us inside the church in praying the Beatitudes. There was also, open on display, a chant manuscript of the Beatitudes. I so wanted to stand there and take the time to learn and intone them properly! -- in Latin!

  

Next, we did an unplanned excursion to a newly excavated and just being developed site at what is the true town of Magdala -- near, but not identical to, a site long misidentified as the town of Jesus most famous female disciple (after the Blessed Mother, of course). 
The nature of the town itself, as revealed by the excavations, seems to finally explain exactly what Mary Magdalene's unspecified "sin" was, if not adultery which scholars do not believe it was. In the shadows of rock-hewn tombs which rendered the site unclean for observant Jews, it seems that Magdala was a town specifically settled by the unclean -- including sinners and lepers, whose descendants such as Mary would then be saddled with the stigma of being identified with such a place. Perhaps ironically, therefore, the excavations at Magdala have uncovered the first intact reading platform in the ruins of the town's synagogue.

Just adjacent, we went into a new development, the "Chapel of the Boat," overlooking the sea. There we actually met a young lady from the States, Colorado to be specific, who is volunteering at this new chapel which is dedicated to the women of the Bible, as evidenced by the columns bearing the names of many of them.

From there, we traveled back to the Ron Beach Hotel. Along the way, Tony pointed out shrubbery along the road which he identified as the very same "thorns" of which would be woven the "Crown of Thorns" which was imposed onto Our Savior's Sacred Head during his Passion. Unlike the huge knitting-needle like thorns we usually envision, these were much smaller -- but ended in something akin to fishhooks that would dig into the flesh when pushed down on his head in the form not of a ring-like "crown" but more of a full-head "cap" as scholars now believe was done. 

Back at the hotel, we had about an hour or so to rest and refresh before dinner. Some went to the pool, others went down to the beach itself. I got my computer online and started finalizing the previous blog posts.

Supper was at 19:30; when I headed down to the restaurant, I passed Kristal in the stairwell just headed back from the pool. Supper was, like all our meals there at the Ron Beach, a substantial buffet on several tables -- salad, main courses, desserts. I got a little from each spread, and it was all good.

When we were driving back to the hotel earlier, Tony had offered anyone who wanted to accompany him a trip walking up the street to another hotel which has in its old wine cellar a wine-tasting bar he likes. Kristal and I and several others took him up on the offer, meeting him out by the pool and setting out. There was a, thankfully in the bigger scheme of things although we could not know it then, minor mishap along the way. I was walking along chatting with one of the ladies from Alexandria when she missed her footing and took a fall, twisting her ankle in the process. Her ankle started swelling immediately, although the consensus was that it was not broken; it was very painful, however. One of our number sprinted like The Flash back up toward the hotel to arrange for a wheelchair and ice to be put on it. Meanwhile, we flagged a cab down and Tony proceeded to pick the injured lady  up under one arm and put her in the cab -- as if she were a child; it was a sight to behold that unfortunately no one got a picture of! (Nonetheless, the next day when she was in a wheelchair, whenever there was something a wheelchair would not handle, she got the same service, e.g. the this picture...)

Photo by Kristal

The rest of us proceeded on up to the Scots Hotel and down into its wine cellar where a gentleman named Omri gave us a lesson in the history of oenology in Israel and wine-tasting in general, with six samples -- three white and three red -- all of which were good. One of the whites, if I recall, was from a strain of grape just recovered through DNA analysis of seeds from ancient tombs dating from the time of Jesus [LINK]. My preference being red, however, one of those struck my fancy and I ended up buying a bottle to take home. It was a very interesting experience.

Our return walk to the hotel was without mishap, thankfully. We arrived after 22:00 and I ended up working on this blog until midnight -- far too long!

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Note: I found the following interesting articles including comments and information about Tony Azraq. All are from 2015 and seem to be related to an Archdiocesan Pilgrimage from Indianapolis that Tony served as guide for... 

Nancy Hoefer, "A land of calm and chaos: ‘There’s a militarized wall around Bethlehem?’ and other Holy Land pilgrimage observations," Archdiocese of Indianapolis: The Criterion Online Edition, 13 March 2015 [LINK]

Nancy Hoefer, "Life for Catholics in Holy Land involves persecution and economic hardship," Archdiocese of Indianapolis: The Criterion Online Edition, 20 March 2015 [LINK]

Nancy Hoefer, "Tour guide gives cultural, historical and archaeological insight," Diocese of Oakland: The Catholic Voice Online Edition, 18 May 2015 [LINK]

Also interesting considering some of the things Tony would tell us over the course of our time together -- Nancy Hoefer, "How Catholics in central and southern Indiana can help keep a Christian presence in the Holy Land," Archdiocese of Indianapolis: The Criterion Online Edition, 13 March 2015 [LINK]

Tuesday 14 August – Holy Land 2018 Day 2: Istanbul, Tel Aviv, Tiberias

I managed to nap for a short time a couple of times along the way, maybe an hour or two each, but really I never sleep well on a plane. We landed in Istanbul, Ataturk Airport, at about 09:00, almost on schedule despite our late departure. My phone international plan kicked in almost immediately after coming off "Airplane Mode," but with no Internet, which was frustrating. But it did mean my time shifted almost immediately to the local time of about 17:00 (the same time zone as Israel, so I'm going to report that from now on). Flying eastward as the sun progressed westward meant that we had a very short “night.” [By my calculations: We crossed the dawn terminator in the mid north Atlantic at about 50-55 degrees North latitude at bit before 03:00 CDT.] I let Anne know I was on the ground.

Just a note: Ataturk (“Father of the Turks,” recte Mustafa Kemal) was the first president of modern Turkey after the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire in the wake of World War I. A secular nationalist, his anti-Islamist philosophy dominated the country for most of the 20th c., only recently giving way to increasing Islamization and increasing friction with the western world. 

The airport itself was, as I heard a rather irate woman describe it, "crowded worse than a Mumbai train station." It was also very hot in there. And we had a 2h50m layover. Ugh. Although we had been supposed to meet up with two other members of our party who flew directly from New York – Maria and Angela -- they never showed. I later found that there were medical emergency issues on their plane as well which set them back; we would not meet up until Tel Aviv.

We were scheduled to depart at 19:45 local time on Turkish Airlines Flight 864 for a 2h10m flight to Tel Aviv. We did not leave for almost an hour after that, for reasons I do not know. But we were finally off for the second and last leg of our trip.

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     Now the LORD said to Abram, "Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you. And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who curses you I will curse; and by you all the families of the earth shall bless themselves." ... and they set forth to go to the land of Canaan. When they had come to the land of Canaan, … the LORD appeared to Abram, and said, "To your descendants I will give this land." So he built there an altar to the LORD, who had appeared to him. (Gen. 12: 1-3, 5b, 7) 

So did the Father of the three Faiths calling this land “holy” first come to it. As pilgrims we too are answering the call of God, although our journey has not been so far nor will our presence here, at least physically, last so long. (Well, at this point our journey seems to have been pretty long!)

Photo from Kristal

We arrived in Tel Aviv at Ben-Gurion International Airport, Terminal 3, at 22:30 Israel time.  It’s now 14:30 CDT, approximately eighteen hours after leaving Houston … and about 31 hours since I left Natchitoches, I think…. A kind young man in the passports line helped several of us get on the airport wifi, and immediately Internet and data kicked in. 

This airport was named after David Ben-Gurion (1886-1973), the wild-haired first prime minister of Israel. An ardent Zionist, David Ben-Gurion was for all intents and purposes the founder of the modern state of Israel. In May 1948 he personally proclaimed the new State of Israel even as the British withdrew from the Palestinian Mandate which they had hitherto overseen and the armies of the surrounding Arab powers invaded. He united the various Jewish militias into the new Israeli Defense Forces and oversaw their successful defense of the fledgling nation. He is rightfully called “Israel’s Founding Father.”

We met up with the last members of our party, Brother Miguel (“Mike”) from Costa Rica as well as Maria and Angela from New York. Maria is the president of Radio Maria (Fr. Emilio is the national director of Radio Maria USA).

As an aside, I must say that these are all incredibly nice people. Not that I doubted they would be, but I am really touched by how solicitous they are of my semi-handicapped state at this point, unable to use my left arm for much of anything for fear of "unplugging" myself -- pulling the leads from the pacemaker out of my heart before they have had a chance to "scar" into place. I could not ask for better companions!

As late as it was, we still had miles to go … well, maybe not before we sleep. About midnight we boarded our Nativity Pilgrimages bus north to Tiberias on the western coast of the Sea of Galilee – 150 km, about 1hr45min. Part of the way, Padre gave us an overview of the history, peoples, and cultures of Israel and Palestine, which he considers two separate countries. Tiberias itself was a Roman city, built and named in honor of the Emperor Tiberius by Herod the Great, about the time of Jesus. But it wasn't too long before the bus settled down to quiet and I'm sure others, like me, dozed a bit despite the excitement of being in a new land -- even at night when we really could not see much.

We got to the Ron Beach Hotel – right on the beach – about 01:45, I think. This is, of course, the same hotel Steve Ray’s pilgrims frequent, which (because of his video blogs I’ve watched) imparted a somewhat disorienting sense of familiarity – even deja vu – when we pulled up and entered the lobby! 

By the time I hit the sack it was after 03:00, having unpacked what I needed, set up for tomorrow, and showered ... and eaten a very light snack left for us since we were arriving so late. It was much appreciated! We had arranged to meet for breakfast at 08:00, to head out for our first day's adventures at 09:00, so it was going to be a short sleep!

But I was in the Holy Land -- and even at night the view out across the Sea of Galilee from my balcony was impressive.

Monday 13 August – Holy Land 2018 Day 1: Departure

Kristal, myself, Donna, Ann
Houston airport

Got up  at my normal time and went to Mass. Afterwards Fr. LaFleur gave me a blessing, and then Anne and I went to my 08:00 appointment with my cardiologist Dr. Ingram. My brand-new pacemaker is doing fine. By 08:45, I was able to send out a message that I was cleared to go and would be headed to Alexandria to meet up with my ride as soon as I took care of a couple of last-minute things in Natchitoches.

About an hour later, Anne and I headed out. She took the morning off work to take me to meet a couple from Pineville (just north of Alexandria), who had graciously invited me to ride with them even before the latest drama. About an hour later, she dropped me off at their house and we said our goodbyes. We were off within minutes of that, Anne back to Natchitoches, myself and Robert and Kathie toward Houston. 

We arrived at Bush Intercontinental Airport around 15:30, I believe -- the first of our pilgrimage group to do so. Others departing through Houston trickled in over time. We – myself, Fr. Emilio, my wife's sister-in-law Kristal, Robert and Kathie, Mary, Donna, Ingrid (whose son is one of our Alexandria seminarians) Jennifer, and Ann -- passed through check-in and security with no hassles, although my new pacemaker card got me ... personal ... treatment. Our plane departed Houston just a little late, about 21:30 rather than 21:05 --  Turkish Airlines Flight 34, for an 11h50m flight to Istanbul. It was mostly uneventful, although about three hours out there was a medical crisis of some sort two rows ahead of me. I'm not sure what it was, but the lady seemed okay and back in her seat several hours later.

What NOT to do at the end and beginning of international travel ....

I'm not that kind of doctor, but
even I know the top is good, the
bottom is not so good....

This post has nothing specifically to do with the Pilgrimage to the Holy Land or any other trip, and I'm not entirely certain why I'm posting all this, other than the explanation why people tend to post way too much personal information on social media of various sorts -- pure, unadulterated narcissism. But the fact is that two major personal crises in my life occurred in close junction with international travel....

If you read the account of our family vacation in England and Scotland entitled "UK 2010," linked above, it ends with the cryptic words once we were back home, "Little did I know what was coming next …." For a while I was more circumspect about it than I am now, but what came next was that as we began to deplane in Houston, and I stood after the long transatlantic flight to pull our cabin luggage out of the overhead bins, I felt like suddenly every muscle in my upper back pulled all at once, from elbow to elbow. It took my breath away. I managed to get our bags down and stagger out onto the jetway, but I was not doing well at all. I told my son, fourteen at the time, "You're going to have to take some of these," which he did -- and I immediately felt better. By the time we were in and through customs and passport control, I was feeling fine. "What happened?" was on my mind, I remember, but the pain had subsided as my sister-in-law picked us up and drove us to her home. Everything seemed good.

Then, overnight I woke up with the pain returned, although not as sudden or intense. I didn't sleep any more, unable to get comfortable. "Man, I really pulled something bad!" I said.

Then, in the morning, I just felt worse and worse as we started getting ready to go to Mass. I ended up going back to bed, begging off that I just didn't feel well. But I was getting worried now, and eventually, just before they were to leave for Mass, I told my wife, "I think you need to take me to the ER. It's probably nothing...."

It was not nothing. I was having a heart attack. I presented at North Cypress Hospital about 10:30, I believe. On that Father's Day morning, nevertheless, the head of cardiology was in the ER, so I got immediate attention. It was a whirlwind from that time. By 13:00, I was in recovery, having had two new stents put into my Right Coronary Artery.

Then I spent the next three days in CCU, being released on Wednesday....

Now, although I certainly have not done everything I should have to get and stay healthy in the years since, I have had no problems. Until a week ago.

There's actually some background that even predates the 2010 heart attack. 2004-2005 was a bad time. In short order we lost my paternal grandmother (January 2004), my father (February), and his only sibling, my only aunt (July). There were other things going on that I don't want to detail, both personal and professional, as I desperately worked to try to establish myself to get tenure at my University, which was going through one of its periodic shakeups. Long and short, I was under a great deal of stress when, toward the end of 2004 I suddenly started having "fainting" spells. I would not completely lose consciousness, but I would suddenly "brown out" with tunnel vision, my ears would roar, I'd break out into a cold sweat, and I would (usually) have to lie down. It would pass in a few minutes, but leave me wiped out for the rest of the day. Sometimes they wouldn't be quite so intense, and I would feel an attack coming on -- if I closed my eyes, remained still, hanging onto something to make sure I didn't fall down, it could actually pass without anyone around me being the wiser. Nevertheless, with a history of heart disease in my family, although there was no chest pain involved in these spells I was worried.

My doctor ran blood tests, and I wore a Holter monitor around for either 24 or 48 hours (I don't remember which, now), and nothing showed amiss. After a couple of months of these spells happening at least once or twice every couple of weeks, at random, with no discernable patterns or triggers, they just disappeared ... or more accurately, got a lot less frequent. I might go a year or two without having one. Ultimately, we attributed either to stress or maybe inner-ear, more likely the former.

2010 and the heart attack came and went, seeming to make no difference. I would still have one of the spells every couple of years or so, but they would pass and I'd go about my business. I figured it was just stress. If in fact it was not related to what eventually developed, it may well have been.

Then, last October, I had a particularly severe "fainting" spell on a Saturday morning. I remember telling my wife that if it were accompanied by chest pains I would be really worried. But it passed, and even though I felt "wiped out" for the rest of the weekend, I just thought it was more of the same. Except that it did seem to mark a shift.

Over the next few months, I started experiencing what I considered "abortive" "fainting" spells. I would feel like one was coming on for a few seconds, but it would never manifest. A short-lived period of dizziness or lightheadedness would pass and I would feel fine. Odd, but since I just figured it was a different, less intense form of the same problem of undetermined cause, I really wasn't worried. Even though they seemed to get a bit more frequent with time, I just went on about my business; they just became part of my life.

Except that I really started feeling a sense of weariness over the summer. Now, at the same time, my Restless Legs Syndrome was ramping back up, leading to some degree of sleep deprivation, so weariness was easily explained. The RLS -- people do not understand how it dominates your life, especially the fear that if you start nodding off suddenly your legs are going to go to dancing, waking you up right when you want nothing more than to sleep -- got so bad that I started exploring various options. One was to do an intensive study of my medications, their side effects and interactions -- and I am on a butt-load of medications! -- and it seemed like not only did several have RLS listed as a possible side effect, but even more had dizziness and lightheadedness listed! I had also added a homeopathic herbal/vitamin blend for RLS (with seemingly great results) that also listed dizziness and lightheadedness as a possible side effect.

So as the momentary waves of dizziness grew more frequent, I didn't really think much of them. Well, I thought enough of them that I mentioned them to my family doctor in mid July, along with the list of my meds that have just that as a possible side effect. It was really more just informational, letting him know what was happening. He made no suggestions other than that once I was back from my upcoming travels, we might go back and reevaluate my medications and see if that made any difference.

The first weekend in August was particularly bad. Friday and Saturday I had several periods of a couple hours each where waves of dizziness would hit but pass just as quickly -- every few minutes. At least once, my wife noticed, but I just attributed it to getting up too suddenly -- which sometimes did seem to trigger one, and I had indeed just stood up from the breakfast table. I didn't make a big deal of it. For one thing, it was nothing new to me; for another, we were at a family get-together for my wife's niece's college graduation and I didn't want to be that guy....

Monday came, however, and at mid morning I started having an intense pain just below the juncture of my right shoulder and my neck, in the back, seeming to intensify whenever I would take a breath. My first thought, having just gotten back home from being in a hotel for three nights was that the strange bed and scrawny little pillow had giving me a crick in my neck. Tylenol and a heating pad made it feel a lot better.

Nevertheless, overnight, I never could get comfortable. I had a rough night. On Tuesday morning, I made it to Mass and helped count the collection from the preceding weekend as usual, but the pain had progressed more generally into my upper torso, still on the right, and was pretty persistent -- and increasingly worrisome especially given my prospective departure on the pilgrimage. I finally excused myself and said I had something I needed to take care of.

My intention was to go to my doctor's office, but on the way there I realized that he would not be there (it was about 07:30 at latest), and that if anyone were in his office and I said "chest pain," they'd send me right across the street to the ER, so I decided to just cut out that step and go there directly. I passed my wife headed to work (at the hospital) as I approached our house to get a few essentials before going on to the ER (we live only a few blocks away). I told her what was up and she said she'd meet me there.

So, I presented myself in the ER with chest pains and was taken back in short order. An EKG and blood-enzyme test came back negative. "You're not having a heart attack," which was a relief. Maybe it was indeed just a crick in my neck...? My wife was with me as they started to discharge me and I berated myself for a "useless" ER visit....

... When I felt one of the lightheaded spells come on and the heart monitor, to which I was still connected, went bonkers. "BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!" "What's that?" my wife asked? "I don't know," I replied, "I just had one of those spells.... I'm sure if it's important they'll be back in." And they we waited. And waited. And waited. And then things got all exciting -- the ER doctor ran back in and asked if I have Afib. "Uhhh... not that I know of." He ordered another EKG which was totally different. I don't know the details, but I was having something called bradycardia which is basically slow heartbeat -- it had dropped all the way down into the 30s when it normally runs in the high 50s or low 60s, and has for years mainly due to my heart meds.

About that time, my own cardiologist swept in and started dropping terms like "heart block" and "Afib" and "we need to look at your medications" and "you're going to be in the hospital overnight at least" and "you may need a pacemaker" and so forth -- that quickly -- "and I've got clinic, I'll see you this evening."

Uh, WHAT? The words "heart block" alone are scary! I did a quick Internet search and found a bunch of jargon that I didn't understand (I'm not that kind of doctor), but it seems to be related to but something different than Afib.

Long and short, they ended up putting me in ICU. I don't remember the sequence of events, but over the next couple of hours (we're in the early afternoon by now), there were various things said and so forth. They did give me my Plavix as well as lunch, soon after which my cardiologist came back with a long tape showing my heart beating, then stopping, then restarting -- with long flatlines. [It's not exactly what is shown at the top of this post, but something similar.) My wife says he said, "up to eight seconds" -- !! "This is dangerous," he said. "You need a pacemaker -- right now. My colleague is doing three or four others this afternoon. I'm going to check and see if he wants to do another one this evening. If not you'll be first thing in the morning." To make a long story short, it ended up being in the afternoon -- late in the afternoon -- even though I had eaten lunch and had not stopped my Plavix for three days. It was that critical.

Incidentally, my wife broached the subject of cancelling the trip to the Holy Land. To which my cardiologist replied -- to our surprise -- "Oh, that won't be a problem. They've got better medical facilities than we do. I mean, it's not like you'll be staying on the West Bank or something." "Uh, actually, our last few nights are in Bethlehem." "Bethlehem? Behind the Wall? In Palestinian territory? -- I've never heard of anyone doing that!" And I thought that was it -- no go. But, Bethlehem is only a few miles from Jerusalem itself, and as it turned out all of my doctors and nurses were determined that I would be able to go. My cardiologist even rearranged his morning schedule on Monday so he could evaluate me and give me the final "Go -- No go" clearance.

But first we had to get the pacemaker in, which was it's own bit of trouble! They took me out of my room in ICU about 15:30 and were started about 16:15. They told my wife it would take about an hour or an hour and a half. It took at least twice that long. They put me under Conscious Sedation since I had eaten and could not be fully under. I did not feel a thing, but I could hear everything going on -- the banter among the OR team, specifically joking about the stupid new California law banning plastic straws -- but also I can hear the surgeon getting more and more frustrated and have a sense that it's taking a long longer than it should. I was right. It took at least twice as long. They did keep my wife apprised that I was okay, but that things were taking a long time -- but no information beyond that. Finally, they brought me out. The surgeon assured my wife I was fine, and specifically that -- in light of my still being on Plavix -- he glued me back up really good. More importantly, he explained the long procedure. It seems I'm weird on the inside just like on the outside. I have a one in a thousand benignly abnormal configuration of my heart plumbing which makes some the arteries go upside down and backwards. It doesn't interfere with function, but it means that the surgeon putting the pacemaker into its customary position by the left collarbone did not have a straight shot down into the heart to put the leads. No, he had to make a couple of switchbacks and U-turns and generally would have been a lot better off going in from the right side. Nevertheless, he finally got it in.

And I passed a good night. It wasn't until in the afternoon -- after lunch -- that we found out things weren't quite right. The tech from the pacemaker company, who was in the OR, came in to run a diagnostic, and obviously did not like what he saw. He disappeared for a bit, then came back in with the surgeon. They ran more diagnostics, then the surgeon said they needed to take me back to the OR. One of the leads was not seated well and was misfiring every once in a while. I wasn't even feeling it, but it needed to be corrected. So, once again, having eaten, having had my meds, I went back into surgery. Once again it took longer than expected, but that was not because of anything unanticipated, rather that the surgeon took the opportunity to reseat the other lead as well. He said, however, that he was very pleased with the results. The only thing is, now the wound had been opened and closed, then reopened and reclosed, and that made the trauma there a lot more painful. Tylenol alone did not really help that second night even though it had pretty much knocked out the pain the first night. Nevertheless, everything checked out fine the next day and I was released.

It was a rough couple of days painwise, as well as adjusting to being effectively one-armed since my left arm had to be in a sling so I wouldn't extend it and possibly pull the leads out of my heart before they had a chance to scar into place. But to make a long story short, I was considerably better by Sunday, and Monday morning I met my cardiologist first thing in the morning and got my clearance to fly.

I still don't advise heart trouble immediately before or after international flight, however....

P.S.: I still don't know what the right-side chest pain was Monday and Tuesday. I think it may have just been God telling me to get myself to the ER....

P.P.S.: Fri 31 Aug 09:07 -- I just got back from a follow-up visit with my cardiologist. Everything is good. He did clarify a bit. With my heart stopping for seconds at a time, the heart muscle was protesting the lack of blood flow (i.e., oxygen), and that is, medically speaking at least, probably the cause of the chest pain I experienced, since it immediately subsided. Be that as it may, I still think it was a divine kick in the rear, "Get thee to the ER!"

Getting Oriented: Building a Mental Map of Jerusalem

As I described in a previous post, I've been doing quite a bit of reading and preparation for this pilgrimage. In studying any kind of history, I'm a firm believer that you have to have a good map handy. I'm the same way about dates and the basic chronology, by the way, and one of my mantras that I try to impress on my students is, "If you don't know when it happened and you don't know where it happened, you don't know what happened." But I think it's also important to have a fairly good "mental map" when reading so you're not continually breaking back and forth to look at the map for the major features. Often more minor features will be defined in terms of those major features anyway, at least. Obviously, a large part of Biblical history is set in Jerusalem, as is -- just as obviously -- a great deal of modern Israeli history. 

Obviously John A. Beck, author of The Holy Land for Christian Travelers, agrees -- he begins his chapter on Jerusalem with a suggestion, "It can ... be helpful to draw your own simple map ..., using the [a simple schematic map he provides] as a guide. Your assignment is to become familiar with the location of five hills, three valleys, and a sixteenth-century wall and its seven gates" (pp. 41-43). I did just that, and realized that the process of adding bit by bit in a logical fashion helped me retain the mental image. So I decided to share the process here. Nothing will substitute for doing the exercise for yourself, however.