Letter from Pir Shabda: A Journey to the Holy Land

My dear Family,

With six hours to layover in Frankfurt, I have some time to share some of the auspicious moments of my journey to Israel, whose main purpose was to visit family, with the hope that I could also touch some of the holy places and share our lineage stream with the people of the Holy Land. As I write this I am reminded how Murshid Sam kept diary notes on his adventures as a world traveler.

This is rather long post so you may want to wait till you have time to relax and read it.

Israel, sometimes called the Heart Center of the World, is a map of much of the history of this world. It, presently, is a strange place, full of people from different religions and cultures, seeking happiness like you and me, who feel the other is the enemy of their happiness. Each group has its beauty, strengths and weaknesses. For someone who feels at home in both cultures, it is hard to navigate. I guess that is why this was my first visit to the Holy Land, even though my sister and her family have lived there for forty years.

I stayed in Raanana, north or Tel Aviv, with my sister and family.

On my first day in Israel, Sep 6th, I visited Jerusalem. To reach Jerusalem from Raanana it takes about 1 1/4 - 2 hours, depending on traffic. It is an uphill journey going from sea level to nearly 2500 ft.

That afternoon, in the center of the Old City on Via Dolorosa, the place where Christ walked bearing the cross, we spent several hours visiting with Sheikh Abdul Aziz Bukhari. A deep, peaceful and lovely man, his family made its way to the Old City of Jerusalem some 400 years ago from Uzbekistan, carrying the lineage of the Nakshibandhi Sufis. He and I are the same age!

He is also Eliyahu Maclean's partner in Jerusalem Peacemakers, a group of peacemakers including Rabbis, Sheikhs, Priests and Druze leaders. Through Eliyahu's invitation, he arranged for me to share sufi teachings and music at the Sheikh's home/zowia/sufi center on the folowing Thursday evening, 9/11/08, after breaking the Ramadan fast with his family.

The following day, Sep 7, we made our way up to Nazareth. We visited a Qadiri Sheikh Abd Salaam Mansara. A week earlier I had met his son Ghassan Manasara, who attended Pir Zia's Seven Pillars inauguration with Eliyahu. The son and I never discussed his father, but he did say he was from Nazareth and was in the US on a Fullbright scholarship.

When I arrived in Israel, my sister told me her acquaintance had set up for her to introduce me to two Sheikhs, one Sheikh Abdul Aziz Bukhari and, as it turned out Ghassan's father, Sheikh Abd Salaam Manasara.

After sharing story for an hour, we saw some shrines below his office. He took us to the shrine of Saladin's (pronounced Sa-la-u-din in he Middle East) sister's son. We made prayers there but the Sheikh pointed out that the man in charge of the shrine was Wahabi (fundamentalist) and had boarded up the view in. Across the street was the Church of the Ascension, the the White Mosque. All culminated with breaking the Ramadan fast at the Sheikhs home with his multi- generational family.

So on Thursday, 9/11, my dear friend and mureed, Kahlil Maschiach, whom many of you may remember fondly, picked me up in Raanana and together we made our pilgrimage to Jerusalem. We arrived late morning and planned to spend the day going around to Holy places under the Sheikh's guidance and protection. Our journey began in a very worldly way.

The Sheikh needed to go to the bank and cash a check the Jerusalem Peacemakers had just received, which would help them immediate expenses and with rent, and since Eliyahu was out of the country, we went to his apartment to give his roommate the rent.

Nearly two hours passed, with our worldy work complete, the Sheikh drove us up to Hebron, now a 'Palestinian' town, typically not so safe for Israeli Jews, to visit the tomb of Abraham - know as Khalil Allah. Folks from Hebron are called Khalili's. We passed by Olive orchards, grapes and vegetables, date palms and bananas, and a long fence replete with ominous grey gun towers, separating the Israeli lands from the Arab-Palestinian lands. We played a game with ur Muslim hats, off while driving on Israeli roads and on when in Muslim areas.

In order to enter the Muslim side of the tomb compound, we needed to show our passports and recite Fateha, to demonstrate we were Muslim.

Up the old stairs, turn the corner and the first tomb is that of Sarah, wife of Abraham. Next came Abraham's tomb, then Isaac, and then his wife Rivkah. We prayed the Asar Salat and prayed for our lineage and the happiness of all beings. After meditating we are surrounded by many young boys, fascinated with our presence.

From there we travelled to the tomb of Jonah, who the Bible said spent time in the belly of a whale. It was under repairs, dark and messy, just like the shadow element of the belly of the whale. We made prayers that each of us, our lineage, and humanity would have the strength and courage to go into our dark places in order to transform.

By the time we reached back to Jerusalem in was nearly 6:00PM. I asked Sheikh Abdul Aziz if he could take me to the Dome of the Rock and then Al Aqsa Mosque, the place where Prophet Mohammed described riding his Buraq into the Heaven Realms .

Since it was Ramadan, it wasn't safe or permissible for Kahlil, as an Israeli, to go. He stayed back at the Sheikh's house, which is two minutes from the entrance to Dome of the Rock. The Sheikh and I go out the door, 15 feet down the lane of the Souk and at the entrance are two Israeli guards/police.

"Show me you passport, are you a Muslim?"

"Yes", I said.

"Then recite the Fateha" said the Israeli policeman.

Quite suprised, since I expected that question from the next set of Muslim guardians of the temple, I said to the policeman, "Do you know the Fatheha?" wondering how he would know if I said to correctly!

"Yes" he said.

"Say it with me" I replied!

"Oh no, just you alone!" Once I recited for the Israelis, the muslim guardians just waived us through with pleasure.

Naturally, just the sight of the splendor of this holy sight with the late day sun shining on the golden Dome brought tears. I kept practicing Tassawuri Murshid Sam and Tassawuri Murshid Hazrat Inayat Khan. I asked Sheikh Aziz if we could go in to the Dome of the Rock shrine. He said he wasn't sure, as this time of the day was reserved for the women.

At that moment the person in charge of the Dome of the Rock, Mohammed Abu Aktesh, embraces his friend, Sheikh Abdul Aziz and greets us. "Oh, from California, San Francisco, a Muslim, please come to my office" He presents me with a Koran printed for the Dome of the Rock and asks if I'd like to go into the shrine.

We enter, I am deeply moved and begin circumnambulating the shrine doing Tassawuri Mohammed. It feels like the hearts fulfillment and pinnacle of this journey.

We hear the Azan - Call to Prayer, the signal of the end of the Ramadan fast day, enter Al Aqsa Mosque, do Salat, and return to Sheikh's home for a delicious meal.

After the meal around 25 people arrive for the sufi gathering. I share our history and the teachings of Hazrat Inayat Khan and our Murshid Samuel Lewis, lead some Zikr and Dances and close the evening, at the Sheikh's request, speaking on Forgiveness.

Two days later, this time in the company of my sister and her husband, we wend our way back to Jerusalem. We visit the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, then to Wailing Wall.

At our next stop, the tomb of psalmist, King David, I sing the last line of the last Psalm, Kol Haneshamah te HallelYa, Hallelujah - Everything which has Breath Shall Praise God, Hallelujah!

All these holy places are very close to each other in the Old City.

From there we take the car across the valley to the Garden of Gethsemane, at the bottom of the hill of the Mount of Olives.

Two days before, on Thursday, the Sheikh had mentioned that Rabia al Adawiya, one of the greatest woman mystics of all time, was buried on the Mount of Olives, but we had run out of time, and were unable to visit.

So as we come out of the Garden of Gethsemane, I look for a Muslim person and ask, "Where is Rabia's tomb?"

"Just up this hill, go right and then thirty meters and you will see it on the left".

We drive up the windy one lane, 'two way' road, make the turn and I see a young Muslim boy and ask, "Where is Rabia's shrine?"

"It's just over there, but it is locked up, so just wait a moment and I will get the key!"

How auspicious the gatekeeper appeared for us! Now we are joined by another one of his friends with the key and a flashlight.

He opens the gate, we walk past a the very small mosque connected to the shrine, in total disrepair. He explains it is being renovated and so there is no electricity.

Now we go down a flight of very old steps, a landing, and then another flight of old steps into the dark chamber which houses Rabia's tomb. I put my head down and pray for her blessing on all the women in our community, and all the women of the world to have the ease and freedom and equality to awaken to the Message of the Heart and be of great service. I feel moved and humbled that this precious gate was opened feeling somehow that it is Rabia al Adawiya herself. What a beautiful way to complete my visit.

And now a few more hours in the lounge in Frankfurt and a much longed for return home, having been on the road for nearly 4 weeks.

Much love, Shabda