IN Jamaica, Day One

A Sabbath Day’s Journey

[NOTE: I am very disappointed that some of my pictures are not saving properly. I hope to have more pictures later.]

We were all pretty overwhelmed to learn what a beautiful guesthouse we were welcomed to, that first night. There are four dorm-style rooms with four bunkbeds each, and windows with no glass, just wooden louvers that are opened or closed, kind of like Venetian blinds, with a little handle. Each room shares a bathroom, which includes two showers. Lisa and Marggy asked us to take “military-style” showers, but this instruction was superfluous, since there’s only cold water. Possibly in summer heat, someone might want to linger, but not now! There are big, open common areas, full of light and air, a long veranda, and of course we’re surrounded by lush, green Jamaica! We were given the tour and the rules, and warned not to go out at night when the guard dogs are loose and on duty.

Sunday morning, we went to Bethel United Church, an experience in itself for those who are not used to 3 ½ hour services including lots of music and movement, shouts of hallelujah, a half hour of very specific welcomes including songs for brthdays and anniversaries, and an hour-plus sermon. This was done in a style that included shouting, effectively placed silences, and something called “huffing,” in which the speaker punctuated each phrase with a harsh, loud exhale-inhale and often a stamp of the foot. There were also keyboard counterpoint chords here and there. We joined in with the singing, as much of the movement as we had room for (being crammed into some very closely spaced chairs), and some of us even tried out the tambourines. And yes, we clapped and cheered and shouted Amen when the Spirit moved us. All of us agreed later that we had felt deeply blessed to be a part of it, some of us fighting tears part of the time.

Then there was the baby Lisa stole. She admits to doing this on a regular basis. This little mite was beyond adorable and teething as hard as she could on jewelry, fingers, or whatever she could get her chubby fists on, most notably her purple headband with a flower on it. We passed her back and forth, but I regretfully avoided her, not wanting to pass on my cold.

At home, after a delightful lunch . . . I know some of you want more details, but my mind is already a jumble of Jamaican fruits and vegetables, casseroles, a vegetable lasagna that was to die for, and homemade cookies, granola bars, cinnamon rolls. . . well, you just wish you were here, that’s all! After lunch, then, we had a rest and a bit of discussion and writing about the “Take my yoke upon you” passage in Matthew 11. Marggy said we were going to take a Sabbath Day's Journey, and she wanted us to think about rest in this context.Then we hiked down through a steep, jungly hill. Randall went ahead, using his machete to cut walking sticks and leaving them helpfully stuck in the ground for those of us who were slipping and sliding on the damp clay.

We came up with a new verse to “A Just Walk” for which, it is my duty to inform you, Deborah takes no responsibility. It goes like this:

“May we walk a safe walk, not trip on any roots,

With a sturdy walking stick in our hand.

As the earth becomes all muddy and the trees begin to drip,

May we walk, but never fall and break a hip!”

The trees were definitely dripping. There was rain far above our heads; you could hear it, but little of it reached us. Just enough to make the clay slick.

Our destination was The Big Tree. Or possibly The Fig Tree. It’s both. These pictures [later, I hope!]do not, I assure you, give you any sense of its size, let alone the whole rooms and corridors among its enormous roots. After exploring and taking lots of pictures, we sat among its welcoming roots and talked about what thoughts and writings had come to us on the passage under discussion. Was this hike a way of resting? What meant rest to each one? Were we going to be able to both rest and work this week?

When we finally headed back up the hill, we were full of deep, philosophical thoughts, somewhat jostled by the sudden realization that we had to hurry, as our wayfaring one had arrived to find the gate locked against her. Thank goodness for cell phones!