Galilee Sweet Galilee.... (John Alexander Clark's Grave!)

...Where Jesus loved so much to be.

I loved Galilee. I cannot describe it. I have no idea how to cover it all, except to say that I'm not going to attempt it while I am in the Holy Land.

We had 11 days of incredible experiences. It was great! I may do an experience here and there. Maybe I'll even get the first couple days down, but I have a feeling I'm going to be in over my head just trying to keep up on these next final weeks. So bear with me folks!

One thing I did want to write about while the feeling was fresh in my mind, and at the request of our wonderful Mother, was about visiting the grave of my ancestor, John Alexander Clark, on the last day of our trip, last stop. He is buried in a cemetary in Haifa, The Templar Cemetary.

For those Clarks out there that don't know about this amazing young man, I recommend reading his Missionary Letters. They are incredible, and provide such a great insight to who he was.

He was called on a mission to Turkey at the end of 1893 and left in February 1894. His dad, Ezra T. Clark, had two wives. He was a son by the second wife. The first wife, Mary, and Ezra had a son who had died on a mission returning from England. He died of heat stroke on a train in New York, and Ezra had a really hard time with it. When John asked to be allowed to go on a mission when he was around 24 years-old, his father was very hesitant about it. Ezra was a good Latter-day Saint, and had proven very faithful and generous in the church in years past. Kali Clark, who is a girl on this program, who is also related to John A. Clark (she is a decendent through the first wife, we are decendents through the second wife, by John's younger brother Nathan), told me that once Joseph Smith was trying to raise money for the Church and begged members at a meeting to donate of their scarce funds. After the meeting Ezra T. Clark walked up to him and gave him everything he had. Everything. Joseph Smith told him he would be blessed in his life for it, and he was. He was a very prosperous man. So you can see that the reason for Ezra's hesitancy to let his son go on a mission was not a question of faith, but more a fear of losing another son on a mission. John wanted to go so badly that he told his father he would give up his inheritance to be able to go on a mission. His father was a wealthy man. That's how badly he felt the need to serve the Lord.

When he was called to Turkey, he left in February 1894, and first went to London, and then traveled through Europe to get to Syria. He stayed there for several months and learned both German and Arabic there, waiting until he could go into the Holy Land. He mastered German, and moved to Haifa, where he continued learning Arabic. His daily routine was to wake up, study Arabic, go for a swim in the mediterranean, take lessons in Arabic, and then go out into the city to be with the Arabs and to pass out "tracts" with a message about the Church. He had no companion, and was very faithful in his studying and proselyting.

In January 1895 a plague of black smallpox broke out in the area. Sister Hilt (whom John was staying with) begged him not to go out among the Arabs, but to protect himself and stay inside. His reply was always, "Sister Hilt, I am not a child. I have the priesthood and a work to do, and I know the Lord will protect me." And off he would go, to preach the Gospel.

On January 30, 1895 he contracted Black Smallpox and was sick for 8 days, when he died on February 8, 1895. Because of the incredible contagiousness of the disease, he was buried within hours, and his body was not permitted to be brought back home to his Father. His parents and Family had a really hard time with it. They didn't learn he was sick until three and a half weeks after his death, and then learned of his death after that.

His sister, Alice, was very close with him and she took it very hard. She had mourned his death for weeks when she heard his voice in her head, very clearly, repeating the last words he had ever said to her: "Alice, you said you were happy I was going on a mission. Why now are you so sad?" After that she was comforted and knew that he had a purpose in life and had fulfilled it.

He didn't know he would die when he went on his mission, nor did his family. They may have not understood the reason for his death at the time, but now, over 100 years later, it is very clear what his mission was, and what Heavenly Father had planned for him. Because of his grave, and because of a tombstone that was paid for with money raised by a college class at the school he graduated from (which is another miraculous and wonderful story), the Church was able to prove their history in the Holy Land prior to the establishment of the State of Israel, and was able, because of that, to build the BYU Jerusalem Center for Near Easter Studies, where I currently call home.

If not for my ancestor (as well as another missionary that died 2 1/2 years before John and was related to the man responsible for starting the fundraiser for their tombstones) there couldn't be a Jerusalem Center. I feel so blessed to have read his letters, and visited his tombstone. I feel very grateful that he died doing the Lord's will, to fulfill a greater purpose, and has since blessed the lives of many students who have walked these halls and lived in this gorgeous building.

I talked to my class while we were there, and I testified, as I do now, that the Lord has a plan for us. He knows our missions, He knows our lives, and He has something greater planned for each of us than we could ever imagine. We can only fulfill that potential if we let Him into our lives and hearts, to shape us like clay, and make us into those people. I know that there is a purpose for everything we go through and experience.

I love you all. I hope you all get a chance to learn more about your ancestors. They did so much for us, it is only right for us to learn about them so we can know them when we see them someday.

Me at the grave with my Missionary Letters book and my hymnal! It was so great to finally be there! I had been reading all week about John's mission, and was so excited to get there. All day I was looking forward to it!

This is me and Kali Clark, who is the one related to John also. We figured it out. He would be my great, great uncle, and her great, great half-uncle. So we are cousins...somehow. We didn't get as far as to determine our exact relation.....maybe that's a job for our moms... :)

Just a close up :) When it was me and Kali, everyone was taking pictures of us. It was really funny, actually. But it's crazy that we had two girls related to him on the program, and that there was one in each class so we could talk to our classes about him. It was perfect!

In fond remembrance of John A. Clark, Son of Ezra and Susan Clark.
Born Feb. 28, 1871 at Farmington, Utah, U.S.A.
Died Feb. 8, 1895 at Haifa, Palestine.
A missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

My Great, Great Uncle!