Mt. Sinai
Mom and Stephanie’s luggage has been located, and it is on its way to Jerusalem. They ought to be able to take home some of the pile of souvenirs that they’ve been buying, thank goodness, and it feels as if everything is going to be all right.
That said, my birthday was a very nice time in the Sinai last week. On Tuesday night, I was taken out to eat at a very nice restaurant by the fellows. At midnight, we marked my birthday with a toast under the stars on the beach. The ladies got me a birthday card along with some sesame seed bars, my favorite snack here in the Middle East. Wednesday evening, Josh arranged to have a cake delivered to our hotel that wished me a Happy Birthday in Arabic. The hotel mangers came out, sang the Arabic birthday song to me, and we all had a piece of the delicious cake. Josh had been very perceptive as I talked about wanting to get some souvenirs from Dahab, and got me a giant red Dahab beach towel that I’ll take home and use proudly (I’ve seen beach towels from the Caribbean- but honestly, one from the Red Sea? I’m excited). My birthday was a great testimony to the great friendship of Elliot, Josh, Leigh, and Leah. They all did a lot to make my birthday unforgettable in many, many ways.
Wednesday night, after our cake, we left on a trip for Mount Sinai. The van left at 11:00 pm so that we could climb Mt. Sinai and see the sun rise in the morning. The trip, which would be less than a day long, cost us 50 Egyptian Pounds (less than $10 US), including transportation.
The ride from Dahab to Mt. Sinai took two hours. Most of us slept, hoping to get a little rest before we ascended the mountain. We arrived at Mt. Sinai at 1:00 am, eager to climb the mountain where, according to Exodus 19:20, “the Lord came down.” We began our journey at the foot of Sinai, near St. Catherine’s Monastery. Several people had told us we could ascend on the camel trail, which was long and winding but not very steep, or the stairs of repentance (so named because monks climb up the 3600 stairs to the top in repentance – perhaps because they decided to take the difficult way up?). Since it was dark and we had never visited the mount, we took the camel trail.
Soon, it seemed like we had no idea where the trail was going. A Bedouin guide offered to take us up the mountain for 50 Egyptian Pounds, an offer we politely refused, thank you, because we were Americans and we were going to make it on our own. The guide told us he was going up the mountain anyways, though, and offered his services free of charge.
Climbing Mt. Sinai in the moonlight was quite an experience, in more ways than one. At night, the giant boulders and strange rock formations gave us the impression that we were traveling on another planet – perhaps Mars or Jupiter. To make the landscape even stranger, Bedouin guides kept camels along the path for tired pilgrims ascending the mountain. These camels, with their extra-terrestrial faces and alien humps, seemed to blend in with the boulders that littered the areas surrounding our path. When the camels would move to watch us walk by, it seemed as if the stones themselves were coming alive and gazing at our progress.
Josh and I were able to walk up the entire 6 kilometer mountain path, keeping pace even with our Bedouin guide. I’m certain that Josh’s, the Bedouin’s, and my own pride was working overtime to keep our legs moving in a brisk walk up the giant hill. My legs ached by the time we reached the top, and I’m certain my calves swelled to the size of beach balls (well, maybe not the size of beach balls -- certainly big oranges, though). Elliot, Leigh, and Leah took camels up, and we reached the summit around 3 am. Thankfully, the Bedouins at the top had blankets and mattresses to rent for cold and sleepy travelers like ourselves. We got some bedding, found a nice perch overlooking the eastern horizon, huddled together (no worries about any monkey business -- we were all exhausted from the climb up), and fell asleep for a few hours.
We awoke around 5:30 as more and more people arrived on top of the mountain to witness the main event. The mountain horizon now had a faint glow, like the embers of a fire after the flames have died down. It was still very cold. The wind on the mountain forced us to huddle together for warmth as we awaited the expected sun. Soon, the horizon became brighter and brighter. When it seemed like we could wait no longer, a sliver of the sun pierced through the mountain rock. The ancient hills slowly gave birth to the glowing orange star. The shape of the sun became more and more clear as it appeared over the horizon and, before we could catch our breath, the mountains had fully given birth to the glowing warmth of the day. The sun, after breaking free from the mountains, hovered precariously over the horizon. For a few startling moments I worried that the sun might fall back into the hills and that we would be plunged back into darkness. Thankfully, though, our star continued on its trek across the sky and continued to shine her rays on our chilly place.
It really amazed me to see how great of an impact the sunshine had on us. Before the sun came up, we were freezing on a foreign mountain. Everything seemed strange and a strong chill pervaded the air. After the sun rose, though, the entire mountain was changed. Suddenly the threatening rock formations became magnificent sculptures and the imposing mountains turned into a grand panoramic view. As the air warmed up, the cold of the night was forgotten and in its place came the pleasant glow of morning. Everyone’s faces changed from a cold scowl to a warm smile. I remember the face of a particular French nun, sitting by herself on the rock, joyfully smiling into the morning sun. A group of Asian believers broke into singing the melody of “This Is My Father’s World.” I’m so thankful that, like the sunshine I saw on Mt. Sinai, God has also seen fit to give me a spiritual light in Christ. “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6). The light of Christ, like the sunshine on Mt. Sinai, changes the way everything appears. Experiencing the love of Christ adds an unspeakable joy and warmth to life, giving us an incredible “strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.”
After our mountain-top experience, we descended from the heights. On our return trip, we took all 3600 stairs of repentance. By the end of the trail, we were just about “wretched and mourn(ing) and weeping” (James 4:9). Our knees ached from the constant strain of uneven steps, and our backs were sore from carrying heavy back-packs of extra clothes.
We had the chance to visit St. Catherine’s monastery when it opened at 9:00 am. I must say, it was very similar to other Greek Orthodox churches I have visited. There were plenty of icons and relics present, including a finger on display which I presume once belonged to St. Catherine herself. Also within the monastery was the burning bush, supposedly the original plant through which God manifested himself to Moses. The plant didn’t appear to be burning, though, and neither did it look like a bush. Instead, it appeared to me to be a giant, sprawling mass of green vines. Needless to say, I was a little disappointed by Moses’ burning bush.
After visiting the monastery, (which, I must add, was packed full of tourists including several small, pushy, rude Korean women with giant plastic visors nicely matching their outfits), we returned to Dahab plum tuckered out. It had been a long and physically demanding trip, so we crashed on the beach for the rest of the afternoon.
That said, my birthday was a very nice time in the Sinai last week. On Tuesday night, I was taken out to eat at a very nice restaurant by the fellows. At midnight, we marked my birthday with a toast under the stars on the beach. The ladies got me a birthday card along with some sesame seed bars, my favorite snack here in the Middle East. Wednesday evening, Josh arranged to have a cake delivered to our hotel that wished me a Happy Birthday in Arabic. The hotel mangers came out, sang the Arabic birthday song to me, and we all had a piece of the delicious cake. Josh had been very perceptive as I talked about wanting to get some souvenirs from Dahab, and got me a giant red Dahab beach towel that I’ll take home and use proudly (I’ve seen beach towels from the Caribbean- but honestly, one from the Red Sea? I’m excited). My birthday was a great testimony to the great friendship of Elliot, Josh, Leigh, and Leah. They all did a lot to make my birthday unforgettable in many, many ways.
Wednesday night, after our cake, we left on a trip for Mount Sinai. The van left at 11:00 pm so that we could climb Mt. Sinai and see the sun rise in the morning. The trip, which would be less than a day long, cost us 50 Egyptian Pounds (less than $10 US), including transportation.
The ride from Dahab to Mt. Sinai took two hours. Most of us slept, hoping to get a little rest before we ascended the mountain. We arrived at Mt. Sinai at 1:00 am, eager to climb the mountain where, according to Exodus 19:20, “the Lord came down.” We began our journey at the foot of Sinai, near St. Catherine’s Monastery. Several people had told us we could ascend on the camel trail, which was long and winding but not very steep, or the stairs of repentance (so named because monks climb up the 3600 stairs to the top in repentance – perhaps because they decided to take the difficult way up?). Since it was dark and we had never visited the mount, we took the camel trail.
Soon, it seemed like we had no idea where the trail was going. A Bedouin guide offered to take us up the mountain for 50 Egyptian Pounds, an offer we politely refused, thank you, because we were Americans and we were going to make it on our own. The guide told us he was going up the mountain anyways, though, and offered his services free of charge.
Climbing Mt. Sinai in the moonlight was quite an experience, in more ways than one. At night, the giant boulders and strange rock formations gave us the impression that we were traveling on another planet – perhaps Mars or Jupiter. To make the landscape even stranger, Bedouin guides kept camels along the path for tired pilgrims ascending the mountain. These camels, with their extra-terrestrial faces and alien humps, seemed to blend in with the boulders that littered the areas surrounding our path. When the camels would move to watch us walk by, it seemed as if the stones themselves were coming alive and gazing at our progress.
Josh and I were able to walk up the entire 6 kilometer mountain path, keeping pace even with our Bedouin guide. I’m certain that Josh’s, the Bedouin’s, and my own pride was working overtime to keep our legs moving in a brisk walk up the giant hill. My legs ached by the time we reached the top, and I’m certain my calves swelled to the size of beach balls (well, maybe not the size of beach balls -- certainly big oranges, though). Elliot, Leigh, and Leah took camels up, and we reached the summit around 3 am. Thankfully, the Bedouins at the top had blankets and mattresses to rent for cold and sleepy travelers like ourselves. We got some bedding, found a nice perch overlooking the eastern horizon, huddled together (no worries about any monkey business -- we were all exhausted from the climb up), and fell asleep for a few hours.
We awoke around 5:30 as more and more people arrived on top of the mountain to witness the main event. The mountain horizon now had a faint glow, like the embers of a fire after the flames have died down. It was still very cold. The wind on the mountain forced us to huddle together for warmth as we awaited the expected sun. Soon, the horizon became brighter and brighter. When it seemed like we could wait no longer, a sliver of the sun pierced through the mountain rock. The ancient hills slowly gave birth to the glowing orange star. The shape of the sun became more and more clear as it appeared over the horizon and, before we could catch our breath, the mountains had fully given birth to the glowing warmth of the day. The sun, after breaking free from the mountains, hovered precariously over the horizon. For a few startling moments I worried that the sun might fall back into the hills and that we would be plunged back into darkness. Thankfully, though, our star continued on its trek across the sky and continued to shine her rays on our chilly place.
It really amazed me to see how great of an impact the sunshine had on us. Before the sun came up, we were freezing on a foreign mountain. Everything seemed strange and a strong chill pervaded the air. After the sun rose, though, the entire mountain was changed. Suddenly the threatening rock formations became magnificent sculptures and the imposing mountains turned into a grand panoramic view. As the air warmed up, the cold of the night was forgotten and in its place came the pleasant glow of morning. Everyone’s faces changed from a cold scowl to a warm smile. I remember the face of a particular French nun, sitting by herself on the rock, joyfully smiling into the morning sun. A group of Asian believers broke into singing the melody of “This Is My Father’s World.” I’m so thankful that, like the sunshine I saw on Mt. Sinai, God has also seen fit to give me a spiritual light in Christ. “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6). The light of Christ, like the sunshine on Mt. Sinai, changes the way everything appears. Experiencing the love of Christ adds an unspeakable joy and warmth to life, giving us an incredible “strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.”
After our mountain-top experience, we descended from the heights. On our return trip, we took all 3600 stairs of repentance. By the end of the trail, we were just about “wretched and mourn(ing) and weeping” (James 4:9). Our knees ached from the constant strain of uneven steps, and our backs were sore from carrying heavy back-packs of extra clothes.
We had the chance to visit St. Catherine’s monastery when it opened at 9:00 am. I must say, it was very similar to other Greek Orthodox churches I have visited. There were plenty of icons and relics present, including a finger on display which I presume once belonged to St. Catherine herself. Also within the monastery was the burning bush, supposedly the original plant through which God manifested himself to Moses. The plant didn’t appear to be burning, though, and neither did it look like a bush. Instead, it appeared to me to be a giant, sprawling mass of green vines. Needless to say, I was a little disappointed by Moses’ burning bush.
After visiting the monastery, (which, I must add, was packed full of tourists including several small, pushy, rude Korean women with giant plastic visors nicely matching their outfits), we returned to Dahab plum tuckered out. It had been a long and physically demanding trip, so we crashed on the beach for the rest of the afternoon.
posted by Jason | 5:13 AM
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