What Would You Change? Tuesday, Aug 24 2010 

When I think about blogging I feel an acute tension of audiences. I know many people who read this blog upon a time (and still may) do not consider themselves religious and have no interest in hearing it discussed. I realize that my last post probably didn’t do much to address this group of people. I think what I’m curious about, in many ways, are the things that make us human.

I was listening to the radio this morning, and a morning talk show host was taking calls from parents angered over busing in Jefferson County. Parents were angry at a system which they saw as unjust because it forced their kids to attend inferior schools farther away. How interesting that what was believed to be a tool for justice (and I believe may achieve some of its ends) has become perceived as a gross injustice.

Many people are (rightly) angered by hypocrisy, whether they see it inside the church or out. Many people are saddened by genocide and even by recent wars that America has been involved in. When we see injustice in the world, whether it is in the form of white-collar crime or the mistreatment of those in modern-day slavery, we hate what we see.

I think my sense of justice is often offended when people ignore rural poverty in America. We pretend that the poverty problem only exists in big cities (I certainly don’t deny that the problem does exist there) while ignoring people, like those in Appalachia, who live in abject poverty. When we pretend that these people don’t exist or aren’t as worthy of our help, we devalue them as human beings. That saddens me.

So instead of talking about what makes us “in or out” or “#1,#2, or #3″, I want to ask what rouses you? Maybe it makes you angry, sad, or just confuses you, but what is it?

Christian or Christ-follower? Tuesday, Aug 17 2010 

One of the first things I want to address in discussing different terms is what the word “Christian” means. Christians love to wax philosophic on the original meaning of the word, the Greek, and then think they are more sincere or “relevant” when the describe themselves as “Christ-followers.”

My guess (and correct me if I’m wrong) is that most people outside the church really don’t care about the names those inside it give themselves. I think (most of them) would rather see in our actions that we are following Jesus than in the words we use to describe ourselves. So what does it mean? I want to offer a few suggestions:

1) Anyone who has been baptized or made a decision (willingly or unwillingly) to assent to various Biblical and/or church teachings at some point in their life. This is a pretty broad definition. It includes people like Mao and Stalin. I’m going to recommend that it is a bit too broad.

2) Everything in 1, but actively participates in religious services at least occasionally. This is also pretty broad. It has the component of free choice, but unfortunately it includes people like the crusaders. And these monks.

3) People who are committed to the teachings and lifestyle of Jesus (as they understand them) in every aspect of their lives. They try to live as Jesus would have lived by loving others around them and fearing and worshiping God alone.

When I say “Christian,” especially to describe myself, what I usually mean is #3. I fall far short of this definition, but it’s the standard to which I would like to be held. I think the other uses of the word are entirely legitimate. Perhaps you want to differentiate a person brought up in a Christian community when there are Muslims or Jews around (entirely legitimate). I just think it is important to be straightforward that when I talk about what Christians “do or don’t do,” especially on this blog, I mean people closer to #3.

Christians often talk with each other about what the best way is to move people from #2 to #3. This is not an easy proposition. I wonder if part of the difficulty is that people see that #2 is all that is being asked of them. In the gospels, Jesus calls his disciples to leave #2 in order to follow Him as He reveals Himself to them. In Matthew, Mark, and John Jesus offers no thorough explanation in His call to the fishermen-apostles, just “Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” This isn’t a small challenge, and I would be lying if I said I completely understood it.

I wonder if the church has gone wrong is by telling people it is so easy. Pray this prayer, attend this service, believe these things and you’ll be following Jesus. What if we told people who wanted to become Christians to leave their car parked on a city street (as the disciples left their boats) and follow a homeless guy for three years? I’m beginning to come to the understanding that following Jesus is not about life being easy, but about a life that is full of very hard things as we struggle to follow God Himself.

Comments: Are you a #1, #2, #3, or none of the above? Do you think there are categories that I have forgotten? Are you as compelled as I am by a Christianity that doesn’t strive to dummy itself down to some one-sentence essence, but instead strives to capture the richness of how human beings might follow the living God?

I’m aware that I haven’t defined what I think it looks like to follow the living God. I can hopefully do that in the next few days. I hope this gets us started.

Note: This reflects my viewpoint and does not necessarily represent or reflect the views of my church(es) and/or employer (InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA).

Into the future Monday, Jul 19 2010 

So after graduation I’m working with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/ USA.

Why?

I’ve seen God work in my life in so many ways through this organization. Over the past four years God has radically transformed so many aspects of my life, from the very way I view the Gospel to the way I view poverty and injustice in our world. I have seen Jesus better through the work of this organization. I believe that working for them will allow me an even closer look at the God I serve and I’m thrilled to have the opportunity.

What is InterVarsity?

InterVarsity is all about developing witnessing communities on the college campus. I envision a university transformed: where students are eager to integrate their faith and studies,where students regularly present the gospel to their friends, and where the community of Christ-followers brings honor to the name of Jesus in its love, size, and diversity. InterVarsity is an organization equipped to make this happen – I’ve seen parts of this vision realized on my own campus and I look forward to seeing them happen at Purdue University Calumet. I will be assisting in this through training and equipping college students. Only they can make this happen on their campus!

What am I doing now?

Right now I’m building a team of supporters as I move forward in this vision on the campus of Purdue University Calumet. InterVarsity asks all campus staff to raise financial support so they can give their full attention to ministry to the campus during the school year. For that reason, I am looking to raise funds. Because this role will challenge and grow me spiritually, I am looking for support in prayer. I’m looking to find people who want to be a part of this vision as it plays out on this campus over the next year- people who are excited about the things God is doing and want to get involved in some way.

What can I do?

If any of what I’ve said interests you, feel free to contact me at rggrider@ymail.com. While I hope to blog in more depth about some of the things I have said here (and others I haven’t), please don’t hesitate to get in touch by email. I look forward to comments to this post as well.

gradphoto Friday, Jul 16 2010 




gradphoto

Originally uploaded by rggrider

A New Shape Friday, Jul 16 2010 

I know not many people have likely stuck around my blog this long. For those that have (or will return), I want to thank you! This blog will be taking a new direction in chronicling my life as it moves beyond college. I’m sure I will talk about technology some, and there will likely be occasional pictures of me. This blog will likely be heavily focused on religion. I’m working with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA next year at Purdue University Calumet, a school in Hammond, IN. I want to talk more about that in a post of its own.

I know that many of my readers (especially current and former University of Chicago students) are not religious. I am more than ok with that. Too often Christians put themselves away from the rest of the world. We have our own language and terminology, our own good things and bad things, our own traditions and customs that serve not to make us holier, but weirder. Part of what I hope to do in this blog is to talk about with a wider audience many of the things that I would talk about with other evangelical Christians, but I want it to be an open dialogue with terms that are well-defined up front. I want to live a life of authenticity, a holistic life before my friends, partners in ministry, and anyone else who cares to read this blog. I know that I won’t always agree with all of my readers (I hope I don’t), but I believe I can learn a lot from people who differ from me.

On a more Grider-related note, I graduated June 12 (yes, over a month ago), in a ceremony that can best be described as the best graduation to ever take place in a thunderstorm. I received a bachelor’s of science from the University of Chicago. It was a pretty great day. A picture of Grider is in the next post.

I Want to Blog Again! Wednesday, Feb 17 2010 

So it’s been a while. A little under a year. I’ve got the blogging itch. Since this can’t really function as a travel blog any more, it needs to change function yet again.

I find all of the above topics somewhat interesting (ok, I don’t find my life that interesting and I would never post pictures of myself unless demanded by the readers) and I will probably write on all of them to some degree. Consider the above poll a suggestion for my first posting in this refresh.

The Armenian quarter Saturday, May 16 2009 

So we had a guided tour of the Armenian quarter Friday, which is pretty cool for a number of reasons. First, it was a tour by an Armenian scholar (that is, a scholar who has studied extensively the history of Armenians, not an Armenian himself). Second, while the Armenian quarter isn’t entirely closed to outsiders, you really have to know someone to get inside. Since the Armenian museum is closed for renovation, this is one of the few ways to get to a first-hand look at the Jerusalem Armenian community.

We started off outside the Cathedral of St. James.

A Fresco above the main door of St. James Cathedral.

A Fresco above the main door of St. James Cathedral.

So we waited around for the guy who had the key. We waited a bit more, then a bit more. Finally, we decided we’d get on with the tour. The Armenian Quarter is rather small. There’s a large courtyard, with buildings all around. We did get a chance to duck inside a monastery (briefly) where this statue was in the courtyard.

An Armenian Cross. Notice the flourish at the bottom, which is supposed to be vines and life, suggesting the life given by the cross.

An Armenian Cross. Notice the flourish at the bottom, which is supposed to be vines and life, suggesting the life given by the cross.

We also got a chance to see the Armenian library, the largest private library in the state of Israel. It was really cool to see books in Armenian, a language radically different from any other I’ve seen. In another monastery (that is in the process of being converted for residential use) we saw an olive tree that is sacred to the local Armenian community as the place where Christ was scourged. It is quite old, regardless of whether this story is accurate.

We also saw the Church of the Holy Archangels, in which photos are not allowed. I attended vespers at the Church of St. James later that afternoon with a few other students. It is an extremely beautiful Cathedral; the service was also very beautiful. Both churches are quite old, dating to around the Crusader period. Unfortunately, photos are allowed of neither, and I am a bit too respectful to take them in spite of the rules.

One interesting thing about the vespers service is that it was nearly entirely sung, but not in the way westerners think of song. There is something in Eastern church-culture (and maybe this exists in America too) that emphasizes singing to an extreme. Instead of reading from scripture, scripture is frequently (if not usually) sung. It’s also not terribly musical, in my opinion. But it is an interesting bit of what is local to churches here that really stands out to someone who has always thought of reading and singing as two quite separate domains.

The Chapel of the Ascension Friday, May 1 2009 

“You want to go into the church?”

A gruff accented voice calls out on the Mount of Olives. It’s Monday- the shadows are beginning to lengthen and an enterprising tour guide wants to make his last sale of the day.

“You want to go in?”

Our small band of four American students crosses the street, approaching the high wall with the door that the bellowing man stands in front of. His tone changes slightly.

“Five Shekel each.”

(5 Shekel = $1.20) We search for a minute, come up with the correct change. The gate in the wall is opened and we’re led into a courtyard, surrounded by a high stone wall with a short path leading to a cupola.

The outside of the chapel.

The outside of the chapel.

The man leads us into the chapel, gives a two-sentence history of the structure, then asks “Do you want to pray or something?” before he is badgered for more information by my companions. When was the dome built? Who built it? How did the Muslims change the shrine? What are the big stones outside?

So many questions and so much thought over such a small structure. To be fair, its not likely any of us would have done this on our own. The Chapel of the Ascension is one of the more overlooked holy sites in Jerusalem, probably because no one is fighting over it at the moment. It is firmly owned and operated by Muslims, it is recognized by the Greek, Latin, Armenian, and Syrian (I think they’re the fourth group) Christians, as well as Muslims, as the site where Jesus ascended into heaven, leaving a footprint.

The footpring of Jeus, so they say.

The footpring of Jeus, so they say.

Of course, there’s no way to verify that this is the site. Perhaps it’s just nice everyone agrees on it, for once.

The wall of the Chapel of the Ascension at which the footprint points. You see the mihrab, marking the direction to Mecca, and two Christian altars.

The wall of the Chapel of the Ascension at which the footprint points. You see the mihrab, marking the direction to Mecca, and two Christian altars.

As part of our course here, we’ve been assigned papers based on sites that existed during the medieval period in Jerusalem. We were supposed to write about what they were like then, what they’re like now, and how they’ve changed in between.It’s really quite a fascinating mix of practical “field work” and scholarly writing/conjecture. My site turned out to be the Chapel of the Ascension. We were supposed to talk about the site in the historical framework offered by the different pilgrimage accounts we read. Here are the two I used in my paper:

“On the whole Mount of Olivet there seems to be no spot higher than that from which the Lord is said to have ascended into the heavens, where there stands a great round church, having in its circuit three vaulted porticoes covered over above. The interior of the church, without roof or vault, lies open to heaven under the open air, having in its eastern side an altar protected under a narrow covering.”

-”The Pilgrimage of Arculfus in the Holy Land,” Palestinian Pilgrims Text Society. Original 670 AD

and from a later, crusader-era pilgrimage:

“it is from this stone that Christ our God ascended to the heavens. This (holy) place is a circular enclosure, paved with marble slabs, and surrounded by vaulted chambers. In the middle of the enclosure a small round chapel has been built, open to the sky, and without pavement; and it is under this open cupola that the sacred stone lies upon which the feet of our Lord and Master rested.”

-from “The Pilgrimage of the Russian Abbot Daniel in the Holy Land,” Palestinian Pilgrims text society. Original produced 1106-1007 AD

As both of these sources tell us, the site of today is quite different. Gone are the vaulted chambers of Abbot Daniel and the wide openness of Arculfus. In their place, we have a (not-so) inspiring shrine. Part of this post is to give my readers a feel for the sort of stuff we’re doing in class, and part is to explore the interesting history of the site. This is a place that has been used continuously as a shrine (with perhaps brief interruptions) for at least 1300 years! It really is incredible to think that it’s still (mostly) the same. One of the arguments, among a few others, that I advanced in my paper was that the Church of the Ascension in the time of Abbot Daniel was built as a rival shrine (or at least an imitating shrine) to the Dome of the Rock. This is based on the fact that the wall we see today is a mis-shapen octagon, and it seems quite possible that this octagonal layout follows (roughly) that seen in the Dome of the Rock (which this shrine overlooks). The Muslims, it appeared, saw it this way since they rebuilt it as a much smaller shrine, and one that definitely had a roof.

My next project is going to be on Jaffa Gate, and if I come across anything interesting, I’ll share it on here as well.

Bethlehem (from a distance) Thursday, Apr 30 2009 

Nothing in this place is as simple as it seems. Bethlehem, “بيت لحم”, “בת להמ” You need to use all three names because all three mean something different. Bethlehem is where the Pope is going to visit in about a week and a half. It’s the place where western Christians say that Jesus was born, and that’s mostly what it means.

Bethlehem. The Church of the Nativity would be visible just over the rise, I believe.

Bethlehem. The Church of the Nativity would be visible just over the rise, I believe.

The Palestinian city is بيت لحم, a town of something like 30,000 people, on the border of Israel. This is the term used by Eastern Christians, as well as Muslims. It is the place where Jesus was born, but it also means “house of meat.”

بيت لحم- A refugee camp should be just over the rise.

بيت لحم- A refugee camp should be just over the rise.

The city on the border of Israel is בית לחם, which is on the other side of the wall and is 70% Muslim, 30% Christian. It has two daughter cities, Beit Jala and Beit Satur, which hold an additional 20,000 people. It is roughly 0% Jewish, and it is really the first thing on the south side of the border of municipal Jerusalem. To the south of it lies Hebron. The name literally means “House of Bread.”

בית לחם, at the edge of Jerusalem

בית לחם, at the edge of Jerusalem

For those who are interested, the pronunciation of those names are all roughly similar (Arabic: Bayt Lehem, Hebrew: Bet Lahm). Which should confuse you (as it did me) because the two semitic languages have a word with the same sound with two oppositional meanings. Perhaps this is most appropriate though, since it is clear that all three names mean something very different. I’ve found (and told on at least a few occasions) that this is remarkably typical of the region. Two or three groups look at the same exact thing and see remarkably different things. First, a map of the area.

Photo Credit: Google Maps

Photo Credit: Google Maps

These pictures were taken from Tantur,

The front entrance of Tantur, where weve had classes the past two days.

The front entrance of Tantur, where we've had classes the past two days.

an ecumenical Christian compound built just opposite Bethlehem. To one side of Bethlehem, we have the dauther city of Bayt Satur,

Bayt Satur, at center-left, with the grove of dark green trees. This is the location of shepherds field, where the angels heralded the birth of Christ.

Bayt Satur, at center-left, with the grove of dark green trees. This is the location of "shepherds field," where the angels heralded the birth of Christ.

In addition to the sheperds’ field, Bayt Sahur is home to about 12,000 Arabs, 80% Christian, 20% Muslim. To the other side there is the daughter city of Bayt Jala.

Bayt Satur, on the left side of the hill.

Bayt Jala, on the left side of the hill.

Bayt Jala is home to about an additional 12,000 Arabs. On the Israeli side of the wall, we have Har Homa

Har Homa, on a hillside dominating Bayt Satur

which is a neighborhood of Jerusalem founded in the 1990s and

A view of Gilo, the buildings behind the trees.

A view of Gilo, the buildings behind the trees.

Gilo, a neighborhood of Jerusalem founded after the 1967 war, still unrecognized by most of the international community. Even before our guide talked about what was going on in the area, I understood from my earlier tour of the old city what would be said about the Har Homa; It was a settlement. Had I seen Gilo, I likely would have guessed the same thing about it. The projection of power is just too clear a factor in the region. Every act is political.

The wall, of course dominates ones entire view of the area. The eyes are positively attracted to it. The wall, or separation barrier as it is known to Israelis, is about 30 feet high, with a checkpoint in Bethlehem, as you can see in the second picture.

A closer view of the wall. Note the street sign for height comparisons. Street signs are roughly 2m high.

A closer view of the wall. Note the street sign (roughly 2m) for height comparisons.

Gerrymandered on the Israeli side of the wall is the tomb of Rachel. You can see the wall dip in and dip back out in the 4th photo, and that is where the tomb is located. The wall, of course, was constructed in response to the second Intifadah. The Israelis had enough of the killing and did something widely recognized as drastic – they built the wall. That isn’t to say that the building of the wall was completely “fair.” The construction of the separation barrier = the wall allowed Israel to move the boundary up perhaps 300 meters – not an insignificant amount in a region where land is so important. The wall and these settlements, as well as a score of others, are designed to create a Jewish perimeter of Jerusalem, making sure that it never again falls exclusively under Arab control. Or it’s a security measure that needed to be pushed up as far as possible for some reason.

The stories told here are two different stories.

That’s why I’m here and that’s why it’s important to investigate for myself. The pictures I post aren’t insignificant either. There seems to be a dearth of honest reporting about the mundane in this area, the stuff that lives are made of. It’s only exciting to the media if someone dies and right now it seems like the fighting isn’t the killing kind, but that doesn’t mean that the battle is less pitched.

Yom Hazikaron (Israel Memorial Day) Wednesday, Apr 29 2009 

So apparently I’ll get two holiday calendars this year. One, the American, centers around 4th of July, Thanksgiving, and the beginning and end of summer, with a few holidays in the February. The Israel holiday calendar centers on the two weeks we are presently in. Holocaust Memorial Day (Yom HaShoa) was one week ago, Tuesday is Israeli Memorial Day, and Wednesday is Israeli Independence Day. The holidays begin at sundown, and last until sundown of the day following.

Last night I had a very cool opportunity to go see the service for Israel Memorial Day that took place at the Western Wall. See is the wrong word. There were a lot of very tall people in front of me. I was present however, and did manage to grab a few photos.

The center of the ceremony: a flame, a half-mast flag, and soldiers

The center of the ceremony: a flame, a half-mast flag, and soldiers

As you can see, the crowd was quite sizable. At exactly 8a, the air raid sirens sounded for 1 minute, when the whole country stood in silence. The ceremony was conducted entirely in Hebrew (don’t ask me what they said) and lasted about 45 minutes. There was a certain solemn air over the crowd. Yom Hazikaron has an entirely different aesthetic from American Memorial Day. There is not a lot of laughter or celebration. As one of the coordinators with our program at Hebrew U put it: “It’s not a shopping holiday.” This is entirely accurate, from everything I’ve observed in the rest of the holiday. I think at least part of the reason it is different is that everyone has lost someone. Yom Hazikaron commemorates not only fallen soldiers, but also victims of terrorist attacks in Israel. I doubt there are very few families indeed that have not lost anyone in the conflicts of the past 60 years, or in a terrorist attack.

A (blurry) photo of a lit minaret.

A (blurry) photo of a lit minaret.

This is an old city mosque on one of the main roads. The minarets on every Jerusalem mosque have these lights in the same shade of green. One of the most interesting parts of Jerusalem’s night skyline is the dots of green lights on every minaret, broadcasting out a visible sign of the mosques presence. The reason I bring this up is not only to shed more light on Islamic Jerusalem, but also to put this photo into perspective.

The larger picture.

The larger picture.

In the photo above, notice the Israeli flags draped down from the walkway leading up to the Haram Al-Sharif (the Temple Mount). You can see a green light (of the exact same shade) just above the trees in the upper-right. This is the minaret of the Al-Aqsa mosque, the third holiest mosque in Islam. (For those interested in how the event was secured, you can also see the sillouettes of two guards in front of the tip of the dome, barely visible). This brings me to what I wanted to speak about, which is the idea of the Jewish state. When I first came here, I didn’t understand how fully Jewish the state of Israel is, and exactly what that means. It is very strange to see a government holding a ceremony at what could be called (with very little argument) the holiest place on earth. On the other hand, this is what a Jewish state is about. In truth, when I saw the wall, I couldn’t help but think of all the suffering of the Jewish people, and be reminded that it was only because of the military of the state of Israel that Jews now have access to the wall at all. Perhaps it is fitting then, but very strange.

The ceremony concluded with the singong of Israel’s national anthem, the Hatikva. It was sung in Hebrew at the ceremony, but I’d like to post the last three lines, translated in English below, since the national anthem has developed my picture of Israel’s national consciousness.

The hope of two thousand years,
To be a free nation in our land,
The land of Zion and Jerusalem.

from Hatikva by Naftali Herz Imber

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