Study Tour - Day Three

Once again, we got little to no sleep before making our way to the mountain where Moses was given the Ten Commandments, Mount Sinai. With most of us barely awake, we took the short bus ride to the bottom of the mountain and met our Bedouin guide that would take us to the top. We later heard that he had done this journey over 6,000 times!

At 1am, we began our trek from the bus park, up the road that we couldn't see, toward the famous St. Catherine's Monastery. It was far too dark to see anything but the silhouette of the building, but we got an opportunity to take a peek inside when we came back down. I realised just how unfit I really am before we even made it to our first checkpoint, the Monastery. This was also called "Camel Station 1", where those that elected to ride a camel up the mountain for most of the journey were able to purchase a ride. Unfortunately for many that chose that route, they ended up in a world of pain. The camels are pretty unforgiving, and forced many to stretch their legs wider than they were used to, not to mention the tiny saddles meant that the men, in particular, were in for a barrage on their nether-regions! Some chose to get off part way up the mountain because it was simply too painful.

On the other hand, I hiked my way up the mountainside with the rest of the group. We seemed to gather in packs, encouraging each other as we ascended the 2,285m high peak. We came across what were called "coffee shops" along the way, but they were no more than shelters that appeared to have been erected by the Bedouins to offer beverages to tourists that came to climb the mountain. Unfortunately, even though we chose not to ride the camels, we couldn't escape the overwhelming stench that followed them as these stops served as pseudo-depots for camel vendors offering a ride to weary climbers. At times, it seemed a cruel joke on those climbers feeling the hurt that comes with the climb.

On this climb, I was able to grasp a new appreciation for what Moses, not at age 31 like me but in his 80s, endured in the Exodus narrative, not once, but many times! In fact, at the top of the mountain, we gathered as a group and read from Exodus 19, 20, and 33, and realised just how many times it says that Moses climbed the mountain. At that point, the commitment shown by Moses to leading his people was seen with new clarity by everyone that had just endured the climb.

The final portion of the climb was a communal experience for me, as I worked wth some of those in the group that were struggling to continue up the mountain, encouraging them to continue on. Sometimes I tried to point out the path of least resistance, but I honestly think that just being with them was encouragement enough for them to power on through the immense pain and push their way to the top, just in time to see the Sun rise over the mountains. It was glorious. In the word of John Mayer, "You should have seen that sunrise with your own eyes. It brought me back to life."

After a time of prayer together, we took the opportunity to take a few snaps atop the peak by the Chapel and Mosque erected there, and began our descent. The difficult trek up the mountain made the already tricky descent quite dangerous. A few slipped and fell, but were usually quickly helped up or caught before falling all the way to the ground. Unfortunately, two of those that I had been helping were among those that fell, one of whom I had been standing alongside just seconds earlier and fell when I turned to ask another hiker how they were travelling. On top of this, the sun was now beating down on those of us that had rugged up for the cold night and high altitude. The beanie I took, but did not wear, would have been happily traded for a wide-brim hat.

At the bottom of the mountain, we regrouped and returned to our hotel to shower, eat breakfast, and prepare for our ferry ride across the Gulf of Aqaba to Jordan from Nuweiba. The ferry was an experience for all of us. It forced us to give up something, something that you do not ever surrender as a traveller, something that is your very lifeblood when you are overseas. We boarded the ferry, and after finding seats and settling in for the journey North, we were informed that we had to surrender our passports to people that didn't speak English, couldn't give us any information on when, or even if, we might get them back, and without a tour guide to help us communicate, we were somewhat stranded on a boat in a foreign country without our most important possession.

Before we came, Matt Gray spoke about pilgrimage and how different people approach it, but one of the key points he made during his talk was about how pilgrims are often forced to give up something, either by choice or by necessity. In fact, Matt spoke primarily of this in terms of choice, but we found out first hand that sometimes God just says that we need to lose something, and then He takes it from us to see how we will respond. It was confusing, frustrating, and terrifying, but we all eventually came through the other side fundamentally trusting that things would work out.

After the dust had settled from the ordeal of having our passports taken from us, we went in search of toilets. After searching the whole boat, finally we found the toilet services for men. I walked in to see men washing their feet in what looked like a trough, and then drinking the same water. I think it was at this point that I was suddenly met with the foul stench that would haunt us all for the rest of the trip on the Gulf. The odour was ghastly, and made my stomach lurch. I held my breath, and briskly made my way to the nearest available cubicle so I could relieve myself. Unfortunately, I couldn't hold my breath as long as I needed to, and I had to cover my face with the two t-shirts I was wearing, and then cup my hands over both my mouth and nose in an attempt to filter the malodour from the air so that it was bearable.

While this smell was restricted to just the toilet before we left the dock at Nuweiba, it spread throughout the adjacent area over the course of the journey, and each time someone came through the doors to the seating cabin, the odour would waft through the cabin with reckless abandon. Those that were already feeling ill had to endure this revolting scent, and fight off the urge to vomit. Perhaps we were learning something new through this experience. For me, the sanitised world of Australia with standards around clean drinking water and hygiene were forced to encounter an entirely different world, and perhaps this world was more like the world that Jesus lived in. Maybe the communal aspect of washing and drinking, the odours and mannerisms, were common place for him.

Finally, after deciding to use the trip as an opportunity to catch up on some much needed sleep, which doubled as an attempt to avoid much of the surrounding turmoil, we drew near to Jordan, eventually docking at the port in Aqaba. Again, this process was one of trust and vulnerability. One of the tour party managed to find someone on the boat that could speak English, and was able to draw some of the details out from him about how the border crossing works on these ferries. While we waited, and waited, and waited, and waited to disembark, we were feeling very isolated and uncertain about how things would transpire. Fortunately, after collecting our luggage from the open shipping container that just anybody could have gone through if they so desired, we proceeded off the boat and onto the dry land of Jordan, where we were met by our next tour guide. Thankfully, he was able to guide us through the next steps of the border crossing, and in no time we were on the bus and on our way to our new home for the night.

We were forcibly stripped of our identity, vulnerable to those with power, in a foreign land with almost no one to help us, and on the other side, everything was ok. We were forced to trust, hope, pray, and rely on not our own understanding or knowledge or strength, but in others to help us, and the Spirit to protect and watch over us. Perhaps this was a small glimpse of what Jesus was doing when He was in the desert for 40 days, that the Israelites weren't able to do for their 40 years in the wilderness.