Sign reads: "God is like... / Pan Am, he makes the going great / Bayer Aspirin, he works wonders / Ford, he's got a better idea. / Hallmark cards, he cared enough to send the best / Pepsi, he comes alive for the younger generation."
Jean Moule, professor emerita, OSU College of Education, begins by explaining her preparation process for this interview, part 2 of 3, which covers the time period after Moule’s graduation from Berkeley in 1967 through the early 1990s before beginning her graduate work at OSU. Moule first discusses her experiences as a student in a teacher education program during the late 1960s, her various jobs during her time in the Northern California area, and her and her husband’s move to Oregon. Moule then describes her family life and experiences, her involvement in the Christian community and how it influenced and affected her teaching, her work with the Talented and Gifted Program, and her various teaching experiences including her time as a substitute teacher and her work with the incarcerated. Original Collection: MSS Jean Moule Papers; for more information: http://wpmu.library.oregonstate.edu/oregon-multicultural-archives/2012/03/16/jean-moule-papers-2/ Audio File via MediaSpace: http://media.oregonstate.edu/index.php/show/?id=0_mpqfh32u
We then cross the Plain of Rephaim where David put to flight the army of Philistines, and if our trust in the guide were sufficient we might pause to see what is said to be the old site of the tree that made the cross on which the Son of God was crucified. Under the altar of a chapel there the monks show where the stump of the tree once stood, and the Pilgrim falls down and worships it.
Pilgrims are legion, particularly the Russians, a party of whom we see now at a Syrian inn: but there are many others, and they come from all the corners of the earth often in hunger and thirst through the heat, begging food by the way, and sleeping under the stars at night. Their faith is mighty, their zeal a burning flame and their satisfaction intense. Only a soul entirely free from the trammels of the world, can know and kiss the marble slab which covers a hole, from which a tree is said to have been taken two thousand years ago!
At every turn in Palestine there is something to remind us that the Bible was written there. Entering this market square we halt in the presence of a transaction going on which reminds us of an illustration used in one of Jesus' talks. Grains of various kinds are lying in piles on the bare ground, which has been previously swept clean. The purchaser, not the seller does the measuring. It takes several minutes to fill the measure. Putting in a few handfuls the purchaser presses it down. After it is full to the brim he begins to build a cone, adding a handful at a time and patting it gently. Then as it approaches an apex he makes a hole in the top and fills that. Last of all he holds up a handful and allows the grains to drop very gently and as long as the grains remain upon it he is at liberty to add to the measure. Doubtless Jesus often witnessed the same process as he passed through the markets. It was such an incident as this which suggested his words, "Give and it shall be given unto you; good measure pressed down, and shaken together and running over shall men give unto your bosom. For with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured unto you again."
When they came nigh to Bethlehem, the beloved wife for whom he had served fourteen years, died in the pangs of motherhood, and was buried upon a green slope of the roadside. This is the way one of our great artists has pictured the deathbed. There is something remarkable, something inexplicable, that a man of Jacob's wealth should have buried his beloved in such an exposed and public place, and entirely among strangers, when Machpelah the Sepulchre, of his ancestors, was at Hebron, only a few miles away. Long after this, when he was about to die in Egypt, Jacob told his son Joseph the touching story of his mother's death and burial, and that makes it the more extraordinary that Joseph being the Lord of Egypt, a prince of vast power and wealth, did not transfer the remains of his mother on the highway to the family sepulchre, where Sarah, the wife of Abraham; Rebecca the wife of Isaac; and Leah, the unloved wife of Jacob lay. And we have no explanation of these singular circumstances. The tomb of Rachael, however, in this public place, was known and commemorated when Moses led the host of Israel out of the wilderness; nor has it been lost or overlooked, nor has its identity been questioned to the present hour.