Reflections on my Pilgrimage in the Middle East

How does one begin to summarize a semester-long study abroad experience in one blog post?  I am not sure, but I will attempt to offer some brief reflections on my semester.

This fall, I had the opportunity to study abroad in Jordan with the Council for Christian Colleges and Universities' Middle East Studies Program (MESP).  This was a long-awaited adventure.  I learned about MESP in high school and likely spent hundreds of hours over the past few years coordinating my participation in the program (which was quite complex due to a double major and my plans to study abroad in Uganda for a semester as well).  This was further complicated by COVID; I decided to take a gap year upon the cancellation of both of my study abroad programs.  I ended up switching the order of my semesters in late July - just a few weeks before I was scheduled to head to Uganda - because of the Uganda program's decision to not offer semester-long homestays for the fall.  At the end of August, I finally headed off to Jordan.  And it was so worth it.

This semester, I was invited to be a "pilgrim" in the Middle East.  To eat the food.  To meet the people.  To take taxis.  To seek locals' perspectives on what I was studying.  To learn and practice Arabic.  To be uncomfortable.  And to be shaped significantly in the process.

I remember my pastor telling me over lunch in August, "If you go to the Middle East for a week, you will write a book.  If you go to the Middle East for a month, you will write a blog post.  And if you go to the Middle East for a year, you'll write nothing."  Well, here I am writing a blog post, but I think that there was a lot of truth in my pastor's words; the Middle East is a complicated place (and perhaps all places are), and one of the things that I valued most about this semester was holding learning as my primary motivation.  We were taught to ask questions, observe carefully, and hold our assumptions lightly.  Several of my assignments consisted of getting out and having an interaction with someone about Islam or the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict, and to simply write about it.  This created space to learn and seek to understand, without even necessarily offering my own thoughts or opinions.

In "The Soul of a Pilgrim," Christine Valters Paintner writes, "The pilgrim returns home not with all the answers.  Instead, they receive better questions; questions that bring the pilgrimage experience into daily life and reveal depth in all they see around them."  I have certainly come away from this semester with better questions: How do we respect others through cultural adaptation while also caring deeply for ourselves?  How do we acknowledge and appreciate difference while finding common ground and building bridges?  How do we live in a way that is both locally grounded and globally attentive?  How can we understand and even empathize with different perspectives, rather than picking sides?  How do I live proximately - never giving up my vision for life while also making peace with the smallness of how I am able to move towards these visions in the midst of a broken world?

I am only beginning to live into these questions.  As I do so, here are three postures and practices from this semester that I want to carry with me:

Being Curious and Seeking to Understand

One of the most effective methods of learning this semester has simply been having curiosity.  Living in a new environment, there was always much to notice and observe around me.  Being attentive to my surroundings and asking questions made life in the Middle East more fun and interesting.  We similarly sought to study the topics of our courses - Arabic, Islam, the Conflict, and Middle Eastern culture - with openness.  As we studied Islam, we tried to first see how Muslims view a certain topic or issue through dialogue with speakers and our Muslim friends.  Seeking to develop a Muslim view of Islam was a helpful foundation for unpacking how to respond to Islam myself.  As we studied the Conflict, our goal was: Can I understand how an Israeli might view this, and can I even empathize with that perspective?  Can I understand how a Palestinian might view this, and can I even empathize with that perspective?  And can I recognize and understand perspectives other than just these "two sides," such as the Palestinian Christian voice that is often so ignored?  As we engaged the culture of the Middle East, we worked to understand and adapt to cultural difference, rather than impose our own values and worldview upon this region.  I wonder what it looks like to have these same postures in my life beyond this semester.

Marking Time and Events with Special Traditions

Our MESP community engaged in so many rich traditions this semester.  There were traditions of play, like the "Dead Sea Dunk" and running up the sand dunes at Wadi Rum.  There were traditions in our devotional life, like singing the doxology after our group devotions and gathering in our directors' apartment each morning of Advent for special Advent devotionals (with many cups of coffee, tea, and hot chocolate delightfully consumed in the process).  There were traditions of feasting, at Thanksgiving or with friends we met.  I even started a tradition of grieving by facilitating an evening grief ritual at the end of our unit on the Conflict to honor all of the sorrows that have been experienced by so many.  These - and countless other traditions - have shaped me into even more of a liturgical being.  I loved how they marked occasions, connected us to MESP groups of many years past, led to the development of new rhythms, and drew us closer to God and to one another.  I hope to continue to develop communal and personal liturgies for celebration, grief, reflection, play, and other expressions.

Encountering God through Communion

One of the most profound ways in which I encountered God this semester was through Communion.  I have had several powerful Communion experiences over the past few months and have been consistently drawn to the mystery and meaning of Communion.  The first significant encounter with Communion this semester occurred when we shared Communion together as a cohort shortly after we arrived.  I remember coming into that time feeling heavy with all of the things that I was carrying into the semester - my story, my struggles, all of the things that were happening in my life.  All of these things felt so real and so embodied; I recognized that I was literally carrying all of these things in my body.  I remember coming to the Table and strongly sensing God respond, "I am embodied too."

Participating in Mass at Anafora - the Coptic retreat center we stayed at in Egypt for a few days - was another powerful Communion experience.  One of the leaders, knowing that I was not Coptic and thus could not partake in the elements, handed me a chunk of bread from another loaf when it was time to eat and drink.  While an exclusive Communion still did not feel "the way it should be" to me, I felt invited to participate in a meaningful and powerful way, a way that I had not experienced before in a Coptic service.

Shortly after, I began following along with the Coptic liturgy on my phone during the Coptic church services I attended back in Jordan.  I almost wept when I recognized these words that begin the Communion liturgy in my own tradition (the Anafora):

The Lord be with you.

And also with you.

Lift up your hearts.

We lift them up to the Lord.

Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.

It is right for us to give thanks and praise.

In that moment, I felt deeply connected to the people I was worshiping with, to God, and to the Coptic faith tradition which in some ways feels like a world apart from my own.

One morning during our group devotions, we were asked to reflect on who Jesus is to us, in preparation for a discussion about how to respond to Islam as Christians.  I soon found myself thinking of the incarnation, so profoundly remembered and celebrated through the sacrament of Communion: "Let us proclaim the mystery of our faith: Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again...Christ, our Passover Lamb, has been sacrificed.  Therefore let us keep the feast."  This is essential to who God is and the metanarrative of Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration.  I want to continue to be nourished through Communion, with wonder as I lean into the mystery of God.

This semester has impacted my values, perspectives, worldview, and story in many ways, some of which I am sure I have yet to discover or fully realize.  I am excited to see how God will continue to shape me during my next semester in Uganda (just a week away!).  I would appreciate continued prayers as I head to this next adventure, particularly for smooth travels, health, and the formation of new relationships, and I would love to hear any thoughts that you have in response to my musings on my semester.

Attempting (and maybe succeeding in?) building a pyramid at the Pyramids

Taken from the top of one of the churches we visited in Madaba

Post-marathon picture with Dr. Doug, the program director

Enjoying fresh mango juice (for $1!) in Egypt

Wadi Dana

Group picture at the Treasury in Petra