I hardly know how to put words to today. But I will try. We began quite early-7:30-to beat the crowds, mostly. We only were on the bus for a few minutes today—just enough to get us from Jaffa Gate to the Lion Gate (known as the Sheep Gate in Jesus’ time.) We first came to what was the Bethesda Pool, where Jesus healed the man who had been paralyzed for 38 years (John 5:2-20) The crowds had beaten us there, but we walked around the ruins of the pool and our guide found us a quiet place for anointing and laying on of hands for healing. Several of us were equipped with oils and experience… That’s not my strong suit, so I prepared to receive a healing—on behalf of others.
When it came my turn, my anointer was a Lutheran pastor—one of our group. Marilyn asked who I would like to pray for—my prayer list is a long one, but the most recent addition is a friend who has been recently diagnosed with leukemia, so I said his name, and mentioned continued healing for my beloved Peter—and then, almost as an afterthought, added myself. And then she prayed. I have never received that kind of prayer before. As she prayed, something deep inside broke open. There were tears…followed by a feeling of lightness, like a burden was lifted. And I didn’t even know I was carrying one…I need to ponder this for a while…
From this place of healing, we moved on to the Church of St. Anne, which commemorates the traditional home of Anne and Joachim, Mary’s parents and Jesus’ grandmother. It is, I think, the only intact church in the city built by the crusaders. Most were destroyed by the Moslems when they recaptured the city from the crusaders. This church is related to Mary, who is revered in Islam, so it was spared. It’s a simple church with a lovely garden beside filled with big rosemary and lavender plants. As you enter the church, there’s a sign that says “Silence Please! Except for singing…” so, of course, we sang: “Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me..” And there were more tears.
And then we began to walk the Via Dolorosa (The Way of the Cross). It was another intense experience. I grew up in the Presbyterian church, where this was considered “too Catholic.” As an Episcopalian for many years now, I’ve experienced it, and prayed the stations of the cross. But not like this. This was life-sized and in bright daylight, with life going on around us. Not like in a quiet church. We had to watch out for cars and motorcycles and fellow pilgrims. At each station, we stopped, read the lesson and spoke or sang The Trisagion: “ Holy God, holy and mighty, holy immortal One, have mercy on us.” Fourteen times we did this, each time more intense than before. The last few were said together just before we entered the confusion of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher—the last four stations are in the church—filled with pilgrims like us, it was both noisy and crowded—and very much under construction—lots of renovations are going on. It would have been impossible to read them in those four places.
I confess it—the inside of that church is a jumble in my mind. I do remember the “anointing stone” —a flat stone with oil on it that you can kneel next to and place a special object on it as a blessing. Again, that’s something that’s a little out of my comfort zone, but I am here for the whole experience, so I knelt down and placed some beads I had bought earlier in the week on the stone and said a prayer. I now have beads that are a little oily, but smell great—may they be a blessing!
The other thing I remember from the Church of the Holy Sepulcher is losing our group—I zigged when I should have zagged. Suddenly, I was outside the church, members of my group were nowhere in sight, and I couldn’t hear our guide on the “whisperer.” I returned to the church, and then I could hear Fadi—and then I saw Shane’s bright yellow coat. I was not lost anymore!
A few minutes later, we left Holy Sepulcher, and headed to the Church of the Redeemer, the Lutheran Church, where a meeting was planned with the Rev.Sally Azar. She’s the first Palestinian woman to be ordained a pastor in this part of the world. She is wonderful. She left home to be trained in Germany, and has chosen to return to make a difference here in Palestine. She is rightly horrified by what is happening to her people. The world needs more like her! I include here the selfie she took with a lot of us in the background.
After our meeting ended, we began to wend our way back toward our hotel. We had lunch in a place that’s just a few doors away from the hotel.
Later in the afternoon, those who wanted to—and about a dozen of us did—met up with Fadi and walked to St. Mark’s Church. Tradition says that this church is located on the same spot as the upper room where the disciples hid in fear after the crucifixion, and Jesus appeared there twice—once without Thomas and again, a week later, with him. (John 20:19-29)
Liz and I took a stroll through the Old City with our friend Chris before dinner and in the Jewish Quarter found a great bakery with sesame seed cookies to die for! Also, just outside there’s a man who makes a wonderful hot drink called Sahlab that sounds wonderful.
I have loved the food we’ve eaten here. spicy, but not too hot, and for the most part, healthy. The best hummus I have ever had…lots of good, fresh vegetables and fruits—I have grown to love real fresh squeezed pomegranate juice, with all the bits,of pulp in it. I will miss this.
I am here writing this, and thinking about all that happened today. I would love to come back here again—we only have one more full day here with all of us—on Friday, a third of us will return home to the States and the others will continue on to Jordan.
Tomorrow, we’ll visit the Western Wall and Temple Mount…and evidently a surprise in the afternoon.
