How Great Thou Art

Sitting in a white plastic beach chair on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, I watch a busload of tourists straggle down a long, rusty pier onto a boat that looks like an armored vehicle from Apocalypse Now. As they pull away from the shore, the recorded music begins. “Ohmygod,” I say to Justine. “They are playing the “Star Spangled Banner!” Sure enough, on the bow pole, the Stars and Stripes flutters in the holy breeze. “How bizarre,” we say simultaneously. She records the scene and the music on her video phone. I shake my head, almost embarrassed to witness this capitulation to the U.S. dollar. Perhaps, others see it as a welcoming gesture, but to me, it seemed colonizing to have the U.S. claiming its place on this space, this ancient sea.

We watch other rickety “cruise” ships dock, de-board, and reload. The parking lot at Nof Genosar is a tourist haven; huge busses come to Sea of Galilee and tourists from all points of the globe take a fifteen minute tour to soak up sun and sea and soul’s blessings.

Nof Genosar behind us is the kibbutz where we have spent the night. Its beach area is next to the dock. Several Jewish families have gathered, kids playing in the clear, shallow waters, fathers chasing after toddlers on the rocky sand, women chattering in clusters, all enjoying the sun. It is a peaceful place—despite the busses and boats which come and go.

Another cruise boat motors away from the dock; another song begins. This time, “How Great Thou Art” wafts across the waters, a tribute, perhaps, to Christian pilgrims aboard. My memory flashes back to the day before, in the walled city of Bethlehem. I was standing under the dome of the beautiful Church of the Shepherds when a Christian group, mixed African and Portuguese, entered and spontaneously began to sing "How Great Thou Art," same tune, different words: Então minha alma canta Ti, Senhor: Quão grande es tu! That was a holy moment. My response then, as now, was to hum, “Surely, the presence of the Lord is in this place,” the hymn that often closes worship in many Methodist churches I’ve attended over the years.

That reflective mood is momentary. As one of the ships returns to dock, its speakers are blaring a rock tune. The young captain has done his job, and his musical choices for 2008 reverberate across the waves.