 Jerusalem | I have known that I wanted to write something about my trip to the Holy Land ever since my feet left Jerusalem soil, but the experience was so complex that I have found myself putting it off over and over again... And now I see that 3 months have passed with me still sifting through my memories. Enough! I will undoubtedly fail to do justice to what I experienced, but I think that is the nature when encountering Christ. Words seem like straw. |
To begin this tale, my husband had no desire to go. None. He even told me about two months previously that it wasn't likely to happen before retirement. So I merely made him promise to take me someday, and sent a little prayer whirling to heaven. Ha. Apparently that prayer worked. He came home the following week after a business trip and told me he'd take me. That man loves me.
To give you a framework, Israel was a different world entirely. The streets bustled with Jews, Muslims, Christians, tourists... and the distinct garb that came with each. Signs in Hebrew and Arabic surrounded me. Soldiers meandered the streets casually, toting rifles and smoking cigarettes. Masses of young Jewish teens on Birthright swarmed about the cheap eatery stands by day, and filled the clubbing streets by night. And unless it was soy, it was unlikely I could get cheese on any burger I purchased.
 | We first headed up to Galilee to make use of the clear roads on Sabbath. The hills kissed the sky and the beautiful water stretched out in a picturesque blue. The wind was gentle and fresh, and every piece of me soaked in the lovely calm. |
I laughed as I stood waterside, deciding now why Jesus spent so much time there: It was gorgeous.
Here, He preached, performed miracles, called a handful of His disciples, and walked upon the water. The scenery punched me with every turn and I kept lingering upon one major thought:
This was where Jesus walked.
Here, He preached, performed miracles, called a handful of His disciples, and walked upon the water. The scenery punched me with every turn and I kept lingering upon one major thought:
This was where Jesus walked.
Shore of Galilee
Nazareth is about 60 miles north of Jerusalem. The site of the Annunciation (when the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and told her she would have Jesus) is a little cave surrounded by a large church. I battled with my screaming 3 year old much during this jaunt, but was nonetheless jolted by the beautiful and magnificent reality that this place, this humble little stony room, was where the divine became human. Here, with Mary's permission, God took on flesh.
Site of the Annunciation
| Because of time and the way Jerusalem was built, destroyed, and rebuilt, many of the pilgrimage sites are practically on top of each other. Such is the case within the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. In one church, you can see the tomb where Christ was buried, the stone slab where they anointed Him, and many of the stations of the cross. The most moving piece for me, and really all of my trip, was the rock of Calgary. You wait in line, crawl under the altar, and can reach your hand down into the hole where the cross was raised. I think about this moment nearly every day. My hand, my very hand, graced the place where Christ died. The words have rolled over in my mind, repeatedly attempting to glean the mystery and depth I feel but cannot express. My hand touched the place on earth where Christ saved humanity. Even still, I am dumbfounded. My 6 year old peered at me, puzzled as to why I was weeping. I hardly had words for her. My hand touched the site of salvation. Her little one did too. Perhaps there are no words for that. |   Diego Velazquez's Crucifixion |
 Garden of Gethsemane |  Church of the Beatitudes |
I could write for pages, but I think I will stop there. My prayers have been enriched from getting to walk the roads, breathe the dusty air, and see with my own eyes the very places where Christ lived. I can now picture the Mount of Olives where Jesus ascended, recall the twisting olive trees in the Garden of Gethsemane where He sweated blood. I have seen the Temple. I have stood in the place where the Last Supper took place, walked about the Mount of the Beatitudes. Before coming, I did not carry doubts of Christ's existence, but the whole experience was like a new, fresh breath, awakening me into a keener awareness of His reality. He did walk, He did preach, He did heal, He did love.
And that in itself is worthy of a lifetime of contemplation.
And that in itself is worthy of a lifetime of contemplation.
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