From the holy Mountain.

Well that didn't take long.
454 pages that raced along easily.  At first I could not put it down.
Beginning in Greece, passing through Turkey, Kurdistan, Syria, Lebanon, Israel and the deserts of Egypt, William takes us on a fascinating journey around the Middle East of 1994.  The fascinating thing is that many of the changes he saw beginning are well under way, others still to come.  I would like to read a follow up but wars and rumours of wars would,not allow that.

The story begins with a book written by a Byzantine monk who travelled around the area attempting to visit the monasteries which he felt were under threat, those remaining still are.  John Moschos, an ageing monk travelled with a companion, Sophronius, walking of course, no taxi's in those days, through troubled lands and many dangers.  
The one clear message from the book is that the area involved has always been a dangerous place to visit.  When the two travelling companions set out in 578 AD the land was in danger from the Persians in the east.  They spread themselves over the are soon to be replaced by the new religion of Islam which swiftly conquered the entire area and seen looked to enter Spain.  When you consider Mohamed died in 632 AD, the Arab tribes were then united within two years yet by 641 AD they had taken the whole of what s now Iraq and Syria and entered Alexandria, one of the great cities of the Mediterranean.  Pushing aside both Persian and Byzantine's they were not long in taking the great city Constantinople also.  Life for a monk, bad enough with nomadic raiders and bandits in the isolated places they chose, was not enhanced by the wars around them.
Christianity is seen in many forms in this book.  The author claims to be a Catholic, but nothing about biblical theology.  He is following Byzantine Greeks on his journey and comes across a wide variety of those.  Some use Aramaic in their chants, a language used by Jesus and while in a modern form this sound may go back five thousand years!  
William finds problems between Catholic and Orthodox, both of whom reject Protestants, both are oppressed by Muslims, although this is often more about politics than religion.  In some cases during the Lebanese war Christians lived among Muslims as they considered this safer, and friendlier, than living among Maronites!  In that was life appears to hold little value for either side yet instances of humanity glow in various forms.
It has been ever thus in the area.
Armenian's were slaughtered by the Turks, who themselves had only entered Turkey 400 years before, they were also rejected in 1922 by the Soviets, the Kurds meanwhile, fighting with, or against, the Turks, used them also.  Today Christians are caught similarly in Syria, in 1994 possibly the safest nation in the Middle East for Christians of all sorts.   
Christians get a bead time in Israel also, though the media ignore this.  Palestinian Christians suffer as the Muslims don't trust them, Israel wishes to remove all Christian traits and have a Jewish state, but with money from visitors to 'Holy' places.  Most Byzantine relics have however been swept away!  
Egypt offered problems in the distant past for the monks and hermits who streamed out of the cities.  Political and religious differences, and I suggest no little seeking after both salvation and  a wee bit of fame possibly, drove many to become hermits, while living close to one another.  A form of monastery which has spread by 700 AD to Ireland and Scotland long before Augustine got to Canterbury.
Constantly the author is found in a chapel, darkness reigns bar the flickering candle light or oil lamps glowing in the dark.  Hooded monks chant for hours, even Vespers, the evening service when outside the light still shines brightly is a dark event.  The hours of prayer pass slowly, chanting the works in ancient languages, some newer ones among those a thousand years old.  In dangerous places often only a handful of monks exist, probably long gone now, elsewhere young men have begun to seek this life.  Saints are worshipped, healing's they claim occur, healing's often sought by local Muslims who come, are given a prayer, some token to take with them, then healing's, or babies are said to result.  To me much is superstition, no theology is offered, no doctrines, just teachings which need better scrutiny than in found in this book and yet God is kind.  He hears all people, does he actually respond even though the theology is poor?
Much of this I found a wrong view of Christianity, a form growing up after Constantine took the throne, but not dating back to new testament days.  Too many ecclesiastical layers have been added to a simpler original.  However there is something interesting within.  This book will not be the answer to life's problems but will take us through the land swiftly, with humour and insight.  History is found here, much opened up for us, and while many of the authors views may be argued against I would recommend this book, especially if you look at the Middle East today.  The area has always been one of conflict, it shall be this way for ever.

    

Christchurch Priory

To get away from her indoors for a few hours out of the house he and I drove around the edge of town looking at the horrendous flooding that has occurred in this region.  Huge acres were covered in water, much more than in previous years.  The fields were covered in numbers of swans rather than horses.  Interesting to look at from the safety of the car, although not when the stuff swamped the roads, but not what I would wish outside my door.  Driving through some small interesting red bricked villages, never designed for vehicle traffic, we arrived eventually at Christchurch where we sauntered among the Boxing Day walkers braving the howling wind.  The swans eagerly gathered around those foolish enough to wear themselves out and sit on the sheltered benches for a sandwich.  The tide here was so high at one point it had actually reached as high as the benches, these were covered with the detritus left behind by the water.

Much wealth found around this area.  Even in the days of long ago this area was inhabited, it was well developed by the time the Romans arrived and later saw the Saxons move in.  It is thought a chap named Birnius erected a minster here around the late 600's.  This was demolished by the Norman chaps once they took over and in their humble manner they rebuilt the place in solid stone.  The church was part of the Augustinian Monastery which began in 1094 and lasted as such until Henry 8 dissolved the monasteries in1539 to find himself an heir. It Typical Norman stone arches stand proud and are always worth a look in my (very) humble opinion.

The 'quire' stalls are decorated with intricate carvings.  It was here the monks would worship during compline or matins.  Whether the constant construction and reconstruction bothered them I know not.  Today I notice the stalls have red cushions on them, I wonder if this was always the case?  

Christchurch took this name in the 12th century when the story of the 'miraculous beam' began.  Since the dissolution the church has served as a parish church for the area.  Just as well this is a wealthy area, the upkeep must be enormous.  It must always have cost a fortune to keep the fabric of the building in shape.  The number of masons and such like who have worked here must be enormous also.  The carvings found here are worth a look.  When in such places I cannot help but think of the thousands who have passed through for whatever reason in the past, some leaving their graffiti as they did so, others their memory is found on a tablet folks rich enough have placed on the walls.     

Today the vicar is a man who actually knows his God, something unusual amongst Anglicans I can tell you, however he is far from perfect, he is an American!  Imagine!   The Victorians naturally decided the vicar required a home equated with his status and a red brick house stands at the edge of the grounds.  As always I cannot ignore the lovely door, note the beginning of the yellow lines at the bottom of the steps.

What a way to spend Boxing Day, while stayed where she ought to, cooking lunch for our return.  What a great woman!  The one thing that keeps her inside at such times is the idea of passing by the waterside, especially in a cold wind.  She hates that.  Such trips ensure a constant supply of fabulous dinners.   

2012 ends soon and I will be glad to see the back of the year.  Hogmany will hopefully bring a better year tomorrow.  I hope so for all our sakes.