A window on the Holy Land

It was with some trepidation that I joined forty four other pilgrims to the Holy Land. Not because of fears about security – we knew that if there was any sign of trouble, McCabe Pilgrimages would pull us out – but because I was afraid I would be disappointed, that the Holy Places would lose their mystique when I arrived with camera and notebook ready for a ‘big experience’. Having prayed imaginatively with the scripture stories of Jesus’ ministry, I wondered how the places I visited would match my imagination and even whether they would seem to contradict my prayer.

I needn’t have worried. The pilgrimage wasn’t what I expected (but then, what did I expect?) but it was definitely a ‘big experience’.

Jerusalem was packed with people, hot and noisy. It was the Jewish Passover holiday and the Greek Orthodox Holy Week. Pilgrims from all over the world were queuing excitedly to get into the churches. (Well, we British were queuing, other nationalities were just excited!) Under the watchful gaze of armed police on every corner, the crowds pushed their way past street pedlars and shopkeepers intent on catching a customer. Was this the twenty first century, or AD30?

We spent six nights in the Golden Walls Hotel just outside the Damascus Gate. From there we drove through the Judean wilderness to Qumran, Masada, the Dead Sea. We celebrated Eucharist at the Shepherds’ Fields near Bethlehem. We went into the hill country to call on Elizabeth and Zechariah. We followed the Palm Sunday route on the Mount of Olives to Gethsemane, and we walked the Via Dolorosa up through the souk to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

From Jerusalem, we travelled via Jericho (and Zacchaeus’ sycamore tree) to Galilee, a journey from bustling city through barren desert to green hills and then tropical flowers – and, bliss, a swimming pool! For the next few days we travelled the countryside where Jesus began his ministry, calling in on the synagogue at Capernaum, climbing the Mount of the Beatitudes, walking on the lakeshore where he appeared to his disciples.

By the end of the first week most of us found the churches had merged into a blur which we will decipher by matching our camera data to the itinerary – was that photo taken at 11.38 am on Wednesday? Then it must be the church of St Lazarus!

It needed some imagination to visualise the place beneath the layers of churches built on it and to see the event that took place there - eg the cross on an open hillside not in a huge, dark building.

For me, it was often the natural objects that conjured up the story: the springs, the stones, the dust of the countryside.

There were a lot of questions. Were these really the actual sites? Were we in danger of venerating places and forgetting the person? How could anyone take this site in with only twenty minutes allowed before we get back on the coach?

Yet, I found that despite the full itinerary and the erudite explanations given by Anis, our splendid guide, God was quietly writing on my soul the things he wanted me to experience and remember. Was this the actual rock on which Christ prayed in agony on the night he was betrayed? It didn’t matter. Somewhere near here he prayed, and on this spot millions of Christians have commemorated that prayer and, by physically and prayerfully touching this rock, I found myself touched by his prayer and theirs.

Scripture came alive in other ways. In the thirty years since I was last in the Holy Land, archaeological finds and the tourist industry have given the opportunity to sail on the Sea of Galilee in a ‘Jesus boat’ and to walk through first century Nazareth complete with shepherd, vineyard, and carpenter’s workshop. The stories Jesus told came to life before our eyes.

And then there were the scenes unconsciously replayed: two women comforting each other outside an empty tomb, a stranger standing on the shore gazing out towards a fishing boat.

 

Our party was led by Bishop Dominic and Bishop Mike Hill of Bristol. Each day they led us in ‘Thought for the Morning’, a Eucharist celebrated somewhere on our travels, and Evening Prayer with a focus on Jesus’ sermon on the mount. Their input was a valued part of our time together, helping us focus on a faith which is living today, not just a memory of yesterday.

 

The Holy Land today is a troubled place. A moving visit to the Holocaust Memorial was in uncomfortable juxtaposition to our remembering the words of the Benedictus and Magnificat – ‘to free us from our enemies....to worship him without fear’. On the other hand, it was chilling to then see the concrete wall and checkpoints which we have read so much about, and to have to make long detours because of it.

In Bethlehem, we visited the Bethlehem Arab Society for Rehabilitation which was founded in 1960 as one of Leonard Cheshire’s homes. Now-a-days, it is a non-profit non-government organization that is nationally recognized for the medical and rehabilitation services it provides to patients from different parts of Palestine, particularly those with special needs, regardless of their gender, age, religion or social class.

In Bethany we went to the Jeel-al-Amal home for boys and the Lazarus School for girls and listened to two inspiring women speak about the work they do to provide for destitute Palestinian children who have nothing and no-one to look after them.

They are hemmed in.
We toured and shopped, ate more than was good for us, and then came home.

 

As Israel celebrates its 60th anniversary, pray for the peace of Jerusalem, and for all who live in the land where Jesus lived and died, and rose again, a Saviour for the whole world.

Janet Bone

photo: praying for peace at the Western Wall, the only remaining accessible part of the Temple mound which Jesus knew