Jerusalem: Singing at St. Anne's

Each weekend, my classmates and I set off on “field studies.” This basically is code for a ten hour class session that begins at 7 AM during which we are responsible to hear, retain, and remember any and all information presented in these full day excursions as we walk for miles looking at ancient ruins and famous sites; basically, it’s exhausting. All that to say, Saturday morning when my alarm went off I was stuck between excitement about discovering more about this land, and the strong belief that it could not possibly be morning yet. Stumbling out of bed to energize myself for the day took more effort than I had anticipated, and for the first few hours of the morning I operated under a sort of haze. But, one of our first stops gave me a huge boost of energy. Standing near the historical site of the pools of Bethesda is St. Anne’s Church. I walked into this structure with my fellow classmates and soon found myself in the midst of reverberating worship. Standing within that structure listening to voices rising upward, mingling in the air, praising God gave me a replenishing in my soul. There is something magically about a group of imperfect individuals imperfectly singing praises within an imperfect structure to a perfect God. I felt cloaked in peace and I was reminded again of the surpassing calm that only the Lord has to offer. It lasted only a few moments out of my day, and yet that is the moment I will remember most vividly from those ten hours. That is a moment I will look back upon from my days in Jerusalem. I walked away from that church renewed and relieved. It is easy it seems to psyche yourself up so much for an exciting upcoming event that in the end you wind up disappointed when events do not ultimately live up to your expectations. This has been my experience thus far in Jerusalem until our time at St. Anne’s. I expected there to be many intense moments of realizing the power of God and feeling His presence while walking along these history clad streets, but this short period of praise was my first acute encounter with God. My hopes had been unrealized until we were standing near these ancient pools of Bethesda in an imperfectly designed, unsymmetrical building. There, God made himself known.