Blessed Brazilians on the Sea of Galilee

The Sea of Galilee, a place I had only heard about way back when in the infrequent times I had spent in Sunday school. It was the place Jesus did his first miracles and met his first disciples. I had vague memories of Bible stories of him walking on water. I knew there were others, but a young girl isn’t interested in old stories. It wasn’t a place I ever imagined myself being, even in my wildest dreams. I would have laughed if someone had told me I would be there, let alone that I would end up there on a boat full Brazilian holy rollers! But there I did end up not long ago, on a wooden boat with some very happy Brazilians and a handful of my friends out for an evening spiritual cruise on that very lake Jesus made so famous. Life, I have learned, has a way of leading you down some very unexpected paths. I have never really believed in coincidences either, so there had to be a reason I was on that boat. What that was, I still wonder at. I do remember one thing though while in the land of Galilee. I remember when I was a teenager my Grandma Alta telling me that someday, because of my love of travel, I would go to the Holy Land and that I would understand my path in life there. She used talk to me of reading scripture and I used to just nod my head, half out of amusement, and say, “Sure Grandma, whatever you say”. I never believed she would have been right in her predictions. I wonder if she knew back then? How would she have known?

So I went from a place where Biblical stories were faint memories of the past to being in a land where they came to life right in front of your eyes. Even for the non-religious person I believe it would be hard to ignore the history of a place like the Sea of Galilee. I know it has other names given to it by both Israeli Jews as well as Arabs, but to me it is the Galilee. It is a place no longer of storybooks or of Sunday school classes, but a real place with real people, living real lives. Our group arrived in the city of Tiberias with the plan of visiting as many of the holy sites of Jesus and the Bible as possible. One thing we all wanted to do was to take a boat ride on the Sea of Galilee and possibly either take communion on the boat or just be out on the lake and read some from the Bible. However we hadn’t made reservations and it was looking doubtful we could get our group on a boat one late evening. However we had one in our group who was to leave early from the trip so we decided to try to get him on a boat with any group already going that we could talk into letting him tag along. Well one boat came and went, but wouldn’t take us. They didn’t have room. One last boat was coming in and as we saw it’s approaching passengers coming down the pier, we had to smile. They were waving a Brazilian flag, dancing and singing as they made their way towards us. They were not a large group, maybe fifteen at the most. They seemed out for a party with big smiles on their faces and a radiant energy that seemed so contagious it was hard to be near them and not smile. One of our group asked if we could possibly get our friend who was leaving in the morning on their boat. They asked us where were from and when we answered California, they cheered. It turned out they loved California and they would let our friend go with them. So merrily chanting, something similar to “Viva la Brazil”, they boarded the boat and then motioned for the rest of us to come with them. They would also make room for more of us. So I went with Joe, the man we initially wanted to get on the boat. Then they also talked some others into coming. In the end we had my friends Paul, Richard, Sally, and Lonny on board and we were headed out on what I would soon learn was one of the most enjoyable times of my entire trip to the Holy Land.

I remember turning to my friend Richard and saying, “so much for a spiritual time on the lake”. I thought we were out with a bunch of rowdy, if not fun, party going Brazilians who were just here to sing a bit loud and have a good time. Had they been drinking? I didn’t smell alcohol, but they looked like something was responsible for them having such a good time. I would learn by the end of the trip, they were certainly high, but high on the Holy Spirit, not alcohol or drugs!

As we made our way away from shore the group suddenly quieted down and got serious. We all took seats on the benches around the edge of the boat and their pastor (was he a pastor or minister, or what do they call them?) started to speak. I don’t know any Portuguese, but the words that are most similar to Spanish I could make out, I had some idea of what he was talking about. He was telling of Jesus’ life here on the Galilee. It was a nice talk, even if I couldn’t understand most of it. It was soothing somehow how hearing him speak out here in a place so holy to many. I then thought, “Wow, I was wrong about these people.” However I still did not know how wrong I was. That came a few moments later. Soon he stopped speaking and a woman came to the front. She wanted us all to pray and asked us in broken English to join them. So we all stood, joined hands and she began to pray. Holding hands was nice, soothing, but the prayer turned quite interesting as the woman’s voice grew with intensity. As she went on, I soon realized the woman so joyfully praying next to me was no longer speaking Portuguese. There was strange language coming from her lips I had never heard, though her eyes were closed and she was happy as could be. This seemed to be happening to others around the boat as well. I looked to my right at my friend Paul and I think if I hadn’t had hold of his hand he would have bolted then and their. If he could have walked on water, he would have ran all the way back to shore I think. He had that proverbial “deer in the headlights” look. I think Brazilians speaking in tongues were a bit more than he was expecting. I know it was way more than I was expecting, but unlike him I was finding it a rather cool experience. The prayer ended with them all hugging one another, including us, and praising God and the love for us all. We started singing Hallelujah and I said a silent, “I’m sorry” to God for thinking that I was not going to have a spiritual moment on the lake. Little had I known I was to witness one of the most spiritual experiences of my life…right there where Jesus did his miracles. I had my own small miracle and it was a very good thing!

We started out on that boat ride with a group of total strangers singing along to Brazilian songs we didn’t know and ended up walking off the boat less than an hour later with a warmth in our hearts for our new found friends. Here was a group of people who renewed my trust in humanity and made me believe that the world isn’t as bad off as we fear sometimes. We had just been embraced by a group of people who live in another part of the world from us, but who really are not that much different from us. A group of people who loved us even though we were Americans and who were completely genuine in the warmth they showed us on the boat. It’s easy to tell when someone hugs you if they really care. There are the ultra polite “air hugs” some give when they are trying to seem friendly. Those are the barely touching you, pat on the back sort and then there are real hugs, bear hugs, that hold you in another’s embrace. Where you really connect with another soul. Those are true hugs, hugs amongst friends. Those were the hugs we all got and gave. Those were the hugs I will always remember. They were the hugs from my blessed Brazilian friends. I will more than likely never see them again, but they will always be in my heart. That I think was the reason I was there. See there really are no coincidences.