It was one of the places we went that wasn’t crawling with souvenir sellers or encrusted with gilt.  Tabgha it was called, derived from the Greek for “seven springs.”  Maurice had sent me to Israel with my friend Pat for her trip of a lifetime.  We were walking down a pathway in a park-like setting that ended at a little church on the left perched on a big chunk of black rock.  To the right under a shady tree was a circular seating area of concrete benches around an altar where we shared communion. Beyond was the rocky shore of Kineret, the deep blue Sea of Galilee.  Our wonderful guide George told us a lot of things happened here.  It was where Jesus called his first disciples (Luke 5:1-11).  It was the “solitary place” of Mark 6 when Jesus fed the 5,000 (v. 30-44); archeology reveals no evidence ever of human settlement here, so it has always been a “solitary place.”   Here was where Peter made the dangerous statement that Jesus was “the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:13-20).  But what really touched my heart was when George pointed out this was where, after the resurrection, Jesus cooked breakfast for the disciples when they had given up and gone back to fishing (John 21:1-14).  Right here on the rocky shore Jesus had brought bread and set about fixing breakfast.  But first he climbed up on the slab of rock that was right next to us.  The sea here was a good fishing place; six of the seven nearby springs emptied in these waters.  One of the springs was quite warm so fish were likely to gather there.  But the waters were never still and it was uncertain exactly where the fish would be.  Sometimes fishermen would hire someone to stand up on the rock, see where the fish congregated and point the fishermen in the right direction.  But the disciples had no money, and no fish spotter and, though they fished all night, no fish.  So Jesus climbed on the rocky outcrop, located the school of fish and called out, “Friends, haven’t you any fish? Throw your net on the right side.”  The disciples eventually recognized Jesus, brought in a big haul and found breakfast ready.  Right here.  They settled somewhere right on this rock with Jesus.  It was the ordinary stuff of life, really, hard work and fatigue and breakfast.  The rocky shore probably doesn’t look much different now than it did 2000 years ago.  There was the morning sun and the splash of water; there were the same people from the day before.  The disciples had just what I have right now, ordinary responsibilities, everyday blessings.  Right here on this rock they had Jesus.  And I have Jesus, and I am here on this rock where he sat on the shore of the sea.  Suddenly time does not matter.  He is here and I am here.  I am part of Jesus’ body, as his disciples were.  By his Spirit we are all one in Christ and seated together around the throne. Hallelujah!  May you meet the living Lord Jesus where the springs bubble with life and the waters are warm.  May you meet him in solitary places where there are no fish.  May you meet him in the manger under the star this Epiphany season.  Gloria in excelsis Deo!

Tabgha, by the Sea of Galilee

Kenya

Right after last Christmas Maurice and I and a team from our church went to Kenya to serve with OneLife Africa, a ministry that provides four-year high school scholarships, Christian discipleship training and personal encouragement for about 25 new students per year.  In Nairobi we had an eye-opening walk through Mathare, one of Africa’s worst slums where over 600,000 people live crammed into several square miles of tiny stick, block or scrap metal shanties amid dirt alleys strewn with debris and running with sewage, without basic amenities (like running water or government security).  In Mathare we visited Lillian’s one-room home; her mother was at work but had bought bananas for our refreshment.  Strong and muscular James walked with us too, keeping an eye on our surroundings as our bodyguard.  The next day, for nine wind-whipped hours, we bounced a mere 200 miles across the dusty Kenyan hinterlands in our incomparable rumbling monster vehicle, waving at laughing passersby.  We were headed to a week of primitive living in the rural village of Nyakach where we led a discipleship camp for some of the OneLife students.  There we met Mercy, with her probing questions and deep hunger for the word of God; humble Vivian, who took a few of us to her nearby home (and its very sad garden) where she lives with her sister and niece; and Tony, with the crooked teeth and constant smile.  Later Danson introduced some of us to his mother at his windowless mud and stick house in a Maasai boma.  These students and the others we met were all kind and respectful, truly interested in us and pleased to share their own lives in answer to our questions.  Each one was delightful, and each one had a real relationship with Jesus.  I think we succeeded in our trip’s main purpose of building relationships, and that success was the highlight of the trip for me.  The mission trip gave me a connection with God’s church across the world and even across time into the future as the young people we interacted with press on to honor the Lord with their lives.  I am humbled that God could use even me to work out a tiny part of building his kingdom.  “Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen in temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2Corinthians 4:16-18).  Hallelujah!

James took this picture of us walking in Mathare.  That’s Lillian over my shoulder.

on safari in the Maasai Mara