Lessons from a Desolate Place Pt. 3 by Chris White

     In my last installment I discussed the mass exodus of committed Christians from the cities into the deserts of Egypt during the 3^rd and 4^th centuries.  The impetus behind this movement was to seek a more earnest commitment to the Lord Jesus in a period of time of spiritual shallowness.  But why the deserts of all places?  This had everything to do with the physical and spiritual geography of Egypt.  Today’s Egypt is a large square which takes up the northeast corner of the African continent but, as is the case in many other places, geopolitical boundaries are out of sync with historic reality.  The word Egypt literally means “black earth”.  This is a reference to the land that borders the Nile River and receives its silt and floodwaters.  Beyond this green and fertile corridor lies the dry and dusty “red earth” which roughly translates into the word “desert” in Egyptian as well.  When the Bible speaks of the Israelites or the Holy Family going down to Egypt, they were not hanging out in the region of the “red earth” but rather they lived in the areas that bordered the Nile where the water, food, and people lived.  Because the area where people could live in Egypt was so limited, if you wanted to get away from people and find solitude you had to head for the desert.  But mind you, it wasn’t a super long journey.  Next time, we’ll take a look at the spiritual geography of the Egyptian deserts.

Lessons from a Desolate Place pt. 2 by Chris White

St. Antony Monastery in Egypt

     You would hardly know it today, but in the fourth century Egypt was one of the most Christian places on Earth.  This should come as no small surprise since Egypt is so frequently intertwined with the story of Israel and even Jesus Christ Himself.  By the 4^th Century normalization of Christianity under Constantine, the Churches of Egypt were large, powerful, and very influential among the Churches throughout the world.  But many in their ranks were disturbed by the fact that while prestige was at an all time high, it seemed the spiritual temperature was falling to new lows.  Out of this sense of spiritual discomfort came what might be considered a “reverse Exodus” where Christians began leaving their prosperity and comforts in the city to seek the Lord out in the wilderness.  One by one Egyptian Christians began to do this until one Christian writer described the deserts of Egypt as a city of God’s people.  Why these Christians chose the move to the desert will be discussed next time.

Lessons from a Desolate Place Pt. 1 by Chris White

Constantine

     More than 1600 years ago the Christian Church of the Roman Empire faced a potentially catastrophic situation.  It wasn’t persecution or false teachers, nor was it a plague or the threat of an outside enemy.  The threat Christians faced in this time was spiritual shallowness and softened commitment to the Lord.  After the Roman Emperor Constantine was converted in 312 AD everything changed for the Christians.  Not only were they no longer persecuted, but it seemed as if they were favored citizens with tax monies paying for new Church buildings and the imperial court sponsoring large Church Councils.  This sea change brought a multitude of new people into the Church but it simultaneously lowered the level of commitment that was required to follow Jesus Christ.  In this period that many in the Church considered a great triumph, some were asking “how can I be a true Christian in this new situation?”  Their answer to this question was quite surprising and the subject of our next installment.

Mt. Sinai : God's Summit by Chris White

Sunrise on top of Mt. Sinai

There are many sacred mountains in the world which serve as pilgrimage sites for a diverse mix of religions pagan, Christian, Eastern, and Indigenous.  In some cases the mountain is the symbol of an unseen deity (such as Pele in the Mauna Loa volcano in Hawaii) or commemorates a great event (such as Mt. Ararat in Turkey where Noah's Ark is said to have safely landed).  Some mountains are Temples.  Mt. Zion in Jerusalem is utterly covered over with the remains of the Jewish Temple and the present day Dome of the Rock (the third holiest site in Islam).

Among the most important sacred mountains is Mt. Sinai where God came down and Moses went up and in a holy summit (double entendre intended) the 10 Commandments were given and a holy covenant was ratified with Israel.  Mt. Sinai is one of those Bible sites that are endlessly debated today.  There are at least 5 sites that have laid claim to being the true Mt. Sinai.  Surprisingly, only two of the 5 are on the Sinai Peninsula, the others are in what is known today as Saudi Arabia and Jordan.  Of course there are also some liberal scholars who doubt the entire story of the Exodus because they do not believe Israel ever lived in Egypt much less was enslaved and set free.

 I'm not going to enter into any of this debate.  The Mt. Sinai I visited is in the Sinai Peninsula and located nearby is St. Catherine's Monastery (one of the oldest in the world).  This is the Sinai of Christian tradition.  It probably was not the exact site that is recorded in the book of Exodus, but the location does have a fresh water source and an area large enough for several million people to encamp.   At the very least, it is emblematic, but authenticity is by no means ruled out.

My presence there was for spiritual pilgrimage.  Although I am Christian, my faith emerges from Judaism and the Ten Commandments form the ethical system taught by Jesus.  And so my interest was certainly more than historical and touristic.  Because of this I so chose to walk the trail that I might pray during the ascent which I will recount for you.

 Several hundred were making the climb that day.  You begin your climb at 4am in the dark of night.  As you look ahead, you see an endless train of flashlights making the ascent looking like a river of light flowing uphill.  There is little solitude or quiet.  Some (including my wife) have hired a camel to carry them to the top.  The camel drivers are all yelling at their animals or each other as they negotiate the serpentine trail with hundreds of switchbacks and loose rocks.  The last quarter mile is very steep and narrow and all must take it on foot.  By the time you reach the top you begin to see the pre-dawn light. 

It's exceptionally cold on the summit with breezes kicking up from many directions and reminding you that your undershirt is soaked from your exertions getting to the top.  Everyone seems to huddle together.  A cacophony of languages are heard and spoken, some groups are passing around a bottle of liquor to stay warm, some are outfitted in true hiking attire while others look as if they just left a night club (or A.A. meeting) to make this hike.  In a corner I see Egyptian family selling cups of instant coffee with milk and sugar.  There we wait; looking to the east, all of a sudden all noise and talking give way to a collective gasp.  There it is.  The sun.  But it is bright pink and then red and then bright white as it rises through the pollution of China and then the dust of Saudi Arabia.  It was like seeing the sunrise for the very first time in your life.  How could something so common, so daily, be so glorious?

Actual Moses Not Pictured

It is odd to say this, but the experience of the sunrise on Mt. Sinai felt like one of those moments in your life when you know for certain something has changed inside.  Unlike Moses, I did not walk down the mountain carrying stone tablets, but walking down I did have a sense of profound gratitude for life and the simple joy of seeing such a beautiful sight.  My heart, which had been weighed down by a long illness and subsequent depression, felt lighter than it had for some time.  It was a different experience than I expected, but a religious one none the less.  Sinai is the place of the law, a law I aspire to live by but always fall short.  But for me, in that moment and that place, I experienced a touch of God’s grace that was both extraordinary and common at the same time.

St. Paul's Bay in Malta by Chris White

“ After we were brought safely through, we then learned that the island was called Malta.  The native people showed us unusual kindness, for they kindled a fire and welcomed us all, because it had begun to rain and was cold.”  –Acts 28:1-2

   Acts 27 and 28 describes the shipwreck of Paul and Luke on the island of Malta.  St. Paul's bay is the traditional site and it fits well with the description given us by Luke, Paul's traveling companion and missionary correspondent who wrote the New Testament book of Acts.  On the reef that the Roman ship struck before they could reach the shore there stands today a large statue of St. Paul.  The orientation of the statue is north and out to sea pointing in the direction of Sicily and Italy where Paul was to make his final journey.

  Near the shore of the bay is The Chapel of the Holy Bonfire.  Obviously, there is no definitive proof that this is the exact spot the Maltese built a fire to warm Paul and the rest of the shipwreck victims, but there is a strong historic tradition that the church of today sits on the location of a medieval church which in turn was built on the site of a chapel going back to the first century.  Regardless of where the bonfire  actually happened, that single act of kindness and hospitality, which would have been unknown or soon forgotten had it not been immortalized in scripture, had ramifications for the spiritual history of Malta and eventually the entire world.  Warmed by the fire, St. Paul was strengthened and able to continue towards his date with destiny in the capitol of the Roman Empire where he longed to preach the Gospel of Christ and to strengthen the church.

Statue of St. Paul facing north towards Rome

   My mind is always captivated by the fact that God uses the small kindnesses we offer to others and uses them greatly.  When I reflect upon the story of Paul’s encounter with the Maltese, it stirs in me the desire to look for the opportunity to be the ‘stranger’ who offers kindness out of a generous spirit.  We never really know the impact of these small deeds but when we do them we are in that moment acting most like our Creator.  For God is generous beyond human reckoning.

    In the Maltese capitol city of Valleta, the Cathedral of St. John is also a point of interest.  It is of no biblical significance, but was the conventual church of the Knights Hospitallar of Jerusalem.  This order of knights was formed during the first crusade (1099 AD) and gave shelter and care to sick and injured pilgrims from Europe who had made the journey to the Holy Land.  When Jerusalem was eventually retaken by the Muslims, the knights moved their headquarters to Crete and then to Malta.  Of interest in the church are the many side chapels, beautiful works of art (including a rare painting by Caravaggio executed when he lived in Malta for a short period),and the ornate graves of the knights in the floor of the church.  This Knightly Order continues today but has been headquartered in Rome since Napoleon captured Malta during the 19th century.

Bonfire Church at St. Paul's Bay

All of Malta is beautiful and even as St. Luke described the kindness of the Maltese that spirit is still present today.  When you travel around Malta and its companion island Gozo, you quickly see and feel that this small outpost in the Mediterranean has seen its share of history.  This island nation has its own identity and seems to welcome today, while not forgetting its heritage.  While remote, it is very accessible and well-worth the time and expense of a visit.