Prelude: Mt Sinai

Me on Mt Sinai
Originally uploaded by grackyfrogg.

It was somewhere in the neighborhood of 3am when our brave little band of P17ers set off to climb Mt Sinai, not far from the border of Egypt. I think I have mentioned that I am not a morning person. Yet somehow I was strangely coherent and excited to be on this journey, making my way over the rocky, winding road that leads to the top of a mountain where, once upon a time, a man and God met face to face.

The magic wore off after about 20 minutes, largely because of the fact that we were sharing the narrow trail with a bazillion other people who also thought that seeing the sunrise from Mt Sinai's peak would be a good idea. Not to mention the hordes of Bedouins along the way who kept offering us camel rides every time we turned a bend in the road.

"You want camel? Only 10 pounds."

"No thanks, I don't want a camel."

"Very good camel!"

"No, look, really I don't--"

"Only 10 pounds!"

"I said, no camel!"

Pause. "Donkey?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

This sort of dialogue was repeated roughly every 30 seconds or so, which, as you may imagine, began to wear away at my mood of awestruck wonder and reverent spirituality.

It took about 3 hours to reach the top. We staked out a few spots for all of us, amidst the hundreds of other pilgrims. It was freezing cold, just before dawn. The sky was so clear. The Bedouins were making a killing, renting out masses of musty, hairy blankets for 10 pounds.

We didn't have to wait long. The sun rose about half an hour later, a red disc in the east, an event which was captured on a seemingly endless array of cameras that appeared almost in unison. (Unfortunately, one camera it was NOT recorded on was mine, because I was really too cold to be bothered with getting it out of its case.)

Now, I would like to say that I experienced the presence of God in a new and mighty way on the mountain. I would like to say that I descended transformed, my face shining like Moses', a vivid testimony to my close encounter of the divine kind. But I'm afraid I would be lying, and that would seriously trash my holiness rating, which is a bit tattered these days anyway.

But I can tell you what I DID experience. The beauty of worshipping God with a bunch of people that I hadn't even known just weeks before, singing His praises from the heights, nestled among the ruins of what appeared to be an old church, as several Bedouin boys watched and listened. Looking out over the raw, untamed beauty of the mountains that rose up like rows of savage teeth all around us, rooted, like Sinai, in the desert valley below. Watching as a little bird playfully hovered over the plunging cliffside, then dove out of sight, only to fly up and hover once more, as if it were playing a game with itself. Having communion with a little red wine and pita bread.

In the end, it doesn't matter that I left feeling like I hadn't touched God. Now I know that, through it all, He was touching me, giving me treasures that can't be taken away, that will never fade or rust or be destroyed, because as long as I live, these memories will stay with me, and I'm a richer person for having them.

Thanks, God. What can I say...you rock my world.