The Ancient Witnesses

20 • The Ancient Witnesses: A Journey to Discover Our Sacred Roots

Our bus carried a dozen of us who had enrolled in the course, along with our guide and instructor, Father Greg, a Greek Orthodox Priest. None of knew Father Greg very well. He did not teach on campus but only led study tours. He was an older man, not very tall, slightly overweight and balding. He wore a clerical collar and white shirt that made him seem unapproachable. But he had a kind face, and he reminded me of the actor who plays Father Brown in the TV series by that name. I had met my fellow classmates in line at the registrar’s office where we discovered we had something in common: each of us lacked a Church history course credit required for a pastor’s certificate. Among several appealing options, including a History of Missions and Heroes of the Reformation , the Ancient Christianity course was far less interesting. But the study tour would cram the needed credits into just a few weeks, and we would visit locations where ancient Church history actually happened. Halfway to Nicaea, Father Greg told us to introduce ourselves in small groups. “Everybody knows Ar-ay,” said Preacher, slapping my knee. “How do you spell that?” asked Joseph, suspecting Preacher’s pronunciation was off. “A-r-i,” I said, “it’s Ari.” “What kinda name is that?” asked Preacher. “Ari is short for Ariel,” I explained, “it’s Hebrew, and it means lion of God.”

“So, you’re Jewish? asked Cesar. “I’m a fulfilled Jew,” I replied. “What does that mean?” asked Preacher.