I’ve always wanted to go.
I always intended to go someday.
I have desired it with an intensity that I can’t really put into words.
I’ve even cried, listening to other people talking about their trips…but somehow, I’ve never been able to go myself.
Until now.
Five years ago, to my great surprise, the church gave me a 5-week sabbatical, not to include any of my vacation time. It was also to repeat every five years. It was an incredibly generous gift, and frankly, I didn’t quite know what to do with it the first time. A sabbatical should be used to do something special, something designed to recharge your spiritual batteries and renew your soul. Back in February, I raised the possibility with our deacons of postponing this second sabbatical ‘til next year, because I didn’t want to waste it, and I still didn’t know exactly what to do with the time.
But all that changed almost overnight.
Our son, Josh, was home for a weekend visit from Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Deerfield, Illinois (about an hour north of Chicago). That Sunday night after church, Josh, Rae Anne and I were sitting around our kitchen table, talking quietly. We had just put our grandson Andrew down to sleep in the next room, on the living room couch. (Wherever, Uncle Josh is, that’s where Andrew wants to be, because Uncle Josh is cool!) As the three of us talked, I remembered that Josh had sent me an email about the annual trip to Israel sponsored by Trinity Evangelical Divinity School (hereafter referred to as “TEDS”). I hadn’t opened it yet, so I turned around to our kitchen computer, opened the email, and printed out the itinerary for the trip.
As I looked over the itinerary, my jaw dropped open. The tour was nearly three weeks long, with one whole week spent in Jerusalem, and five days at the Sea of Galilee! I’ve looked at Holy Land trips before, at Pastor’s Conferences, and frankly, the itineraries are a little daunting: a 7- to 9-day tour, with a day and a half here, half a day there, etc.. It made me feel tired just looking at them.
But the TEDS trip was different. It’s what is called an immersion tour (appropriate for a Baptist, don’t you think?). At 18 days (not including travel time to get there and back), there is just more time to see things. And as I looked at the itinerary, it had everything on there that I’ve ever wanted to see, that I’ve longed to see with my own eyes.
And: it’s led by Dr. John Monson, a TEDS professor and one of Josh’s teachers. Dr. Monson is uniquely qualified to lead trips like this because, not only is he a Biblical scholar of the first order, he grew up in Israel! His parents were archaeologists, and lived in Bethlehem while he was growing up. He rode his bike as a kid through the streets of Bethlehem and the hills of Judea. There are pictures of him as a ten year old boy, playing with the local children. (He looked kind of like Opie Taylor with a bunch of Arab kids!) Dr. Monson knows The Land like few other people, and he and his father have been leading tours back to Israel every year for the last couple of decades.
As I sat there, reading about this incredible tour, and talking with Josh about what it would be like to learn about Israel from a man like Dr. Monson, my wife suddenly said something quite unexpected. She said: “Why don’t you go? You and your son, just go! You’ve been talking about this a long time. We just paid off my car; get a loan, and go. Just go!”
And I looked at her and said: “Oh, I couldn’t do that!”
Then I said: “Could I?”
The next morning I went and talked to our friendly neighborhood credit union manager. I barely got three sentences into my explanation when he started grinning and saying, “Done deal! Done deal!” So, for the price of a very reasonable used car payment over the next three years, I get to take the trip of a lifetime with my son.
I’ve always wanted to go to Israel with Josh. In fact, I wouldn’t want to go without him. He’s been there twice, on archaeological digs. (He has his Master’s degree in Biblical Archaeology and Ancient Near Eastern Languages; he’s currently working on his doctorate. He says he’s getting in touch with his inner Indiana Jones. I even call him “Indy” sometimes.) Josh called me on his cell phone once from Jerusalem. He said, “Dad, I’m sitting in a little café overlooking Old Jerusalem, drinking coffee and watching the sun go down. Wish you were here!” I did, too.
On another occasion, Josh walked on top of the walls all the way around Old Jerusalem. Ever since then, I’ve wanted to do that with him, too. There’s one whole afternoon of the tour free for anyone who wants to do the “Rampart Walk”, as they call it. I can’t wait.
There was a little concern over whether we’d have enough people to go on the trip. We needed 20 by the end of April. For most of the month, there were 16 people committed to go, including Josh and I. But on Wednesday morning of this week Dr. Monson emailed us all. He said, “Houston, we are go for launch!” We have 24 people going on the Israel trip.
So, in June, by the grace of God, my son and I are going to go to Israel. For 3 weeks!
I’ll take a week prior to the trip to finish getting ready, and another week after, to recover from the jet lag. That will make my 5-week sabbatical.
None of this would be possible without the generosity of the church and the support of our deacons. And the encouragement of my wife.
I can’t say I’m entirely without some apprehension. For starters, I’m an uneasy flier: I don’t really like to fly. (This is so disappointing; when I was ten, I wanted to be a starship captain.) I put up a good front, but I really wish we could just drive over to Israel.
Then there’s the whole idea off flying into THE hottest powderkeg region in the whole world. Tensions in that part of the world run high on a good day. If I had my “druthers”, I’d much rather be in Indiana when Armegeddon breaks out, instead of just down the road from the Valley of Megiddo. But Josh said to me, “Dad, if you wait for it to calm down over there, you’ll never go.” And he’s right. Add to that this fact: statistically, you are much more likely to suffer an act of violence anywhere in the greater Chicago area than you are on a Holy Land tour. That’s really true.
The bottom line is this: I could listen to my fears, and not go. But I would regret it for the rest of my life.
So, to quote Bilbo Baggins: “I’m going on an adventure!” With my son. To Israel.
Over the centuries, the Jews of the Diaspora would say to each other after Passover:
“Next year in Jerusalem!”
Well, forget that. This year in Jerusalem! This year in Israel!
Me and my son! I can hardly wait!
Soli Deo Gloria!
Pastor David