Metaphorically speaking, we just got off the boat. By which I mean, the plane. Turkish Airlines, to be exact. 26 of our 42 members flew together from Los Angeles (LAX) to Tel Aviv yesterday and today, May 16 & 17. From LAX to Istanbul, from Istanbul to Tel Aviv. Fifteen hours' flying time and ten time zones east of California. Yes, a lot of things are a blur.
Left Santa Barbara after celebrating Eucharist in the Serra Chapel. A time to gather, get centered in the Lord, and calm down in the midst of all the activity and excitement. It really did help, I believe. Laura Ardry from our parish staff and others gave us a nice send-off (including a much-appreciated case of cool, bottled water for the journey) as we piled into our waiting charter bus, bag, baggage, and all.
Serge was our driver and was quite wonderful. Calmly and quietly, he negotiated the tangled freeway traffic (think: LA, Friday afternoon, hot and muggy day, forest fires in the air and on the horizon) and got us to the airport safe and sound.
Once we entered the terminal, it became apparent to us from the get-go that we would just have to get into the very end of a very long line and be very, very patient as we got checked in and received our boarding passes. Actually, that went quite well, except that one of our pilgrims received a transfer boarding card with someone else's name on it. Net result: an unwelcome layover for him on the Istanbul-Tel Aviv link of our trip. We are hoping he will catch up with us at the hotel momentarily. Welcome to group travel.
Life on board Turkish Airlines was an admixture: cramped economy seats (initially some couples were split), a full flight, and a gaggle of giggling and sometimes growling toddlers. The kids were adorable, as they say, but kept many of us awake for at least a part of the flight. That said, what else is new, besides the fact that the service was good and the food, excellent-- even in economy.
Slowly, slowly, slowly, it seemed, we made our way across the North American continent, and then, over Scandinavia, the Baltics and the Balkans to our destination. Plenty of time to read, play Sudoko, chat with seat mates, and nod off.
And pray. Yes, pray. Time to step back and reflect: hey, wait a minute, I'm on this plane with business people, ambitious dot.com people, and extended families visiting or returning from visits with, well, extended family in the States. And yet, I am, we are different. Something else has brought us here, both individually and collectively.
How to describe it, it's so individual. But, perhaps in the aggregate it can be best described as a desire and a longing. To reach up and in more deeply, as one of our Franciscan leaders used to say. Reaching up and more deeply into our identity and spirituality. Up and more deeply into our sense of personal calling as Christian women and men. Each and all of us asking for, longing for one thing mostly: to have more of the Lord. More of the Presence of the Lord in our hearts and lives. More of a sense of who we are as followers of Jesus. More of a sense of the witness which is expected and required of us as Christian people.
Once we disembarked/ off-loaded at Tel Aviv's impressively monumental Terminal 3 and wended our way through customs and baggage, we regrouped at our bus and made our way to a welcome bed and bath (and late night supper for some of us!) at the Hotel Metropolitan. Curbside, we were greeted by none other than our own Father Larry Gosselin ofm, as well as three other pilgrims from our group. Great!
"Welcome to the Holy Land," greeted our guide Amer (in perfect, accent-free American English. "And because you are Christians as well: welcome home!//
