Day 2: Prayer and Penance

"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the one who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your Children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!" (Mt 23: 37)

 

This was the view I had from the Chapel  Dominus Flevit (The Lord cried). Jesus lamented over Jerusalem before entering into it one last time to die there.

 

 

This stunning panorama captures the view Jesus had of Jerusalem as he lamented. The Dome of the Rock is now where the Temple was then.

 

I began the day considering the Death of Our Lord in Calvary located in the Holy Sepulchre Church. There I met a saintly German contemplative, Corina, whom I had the grace to pray with daily since I have arrived. I went to confession just a few paces away from the Crucifixion Altar. I imagined that this confession was the closest one I would have to Jesus' Death since He had really died there. Mass was in Latin and I enjoyed returning back to the Gregorian Chant. Two of the men at mass begin ridiculing the priest and the sacred worship and had to ushered out by guards. I'm glad I hadn't seen them myself as I would have been highly tempted to do more than usher them.

 

I visited the Dormition Tomb of Mary which was located Near Joseph  and Anne and Joachim's tombs. Where has Mary been all this time any way?

 

 

I came back to Gethsemani and this time I had the chance to enter into a grotto believed to be where Jesus was arrested. I could see how it could be there and not in the Garden of Gethsemani Church since he was "a stone's throw away as he prayed with greater intensity" (Lk 22).

 

I walked down to the Pool of Siloam and climbed up onto the City of David. I got to see where David would have looked down upon Bathsheba as she bathed and later committed adultery.

 

 

Along the way was Absalom's tomb as well as some other ancient monuments.

 

I walked through the Muslim burial site along the Temple/Jerusalem Wall to let the Jews know (as they believe that the Messiah will be entering into Jerusalem through that wall) that He would not be a "Clean" Jew by walking in.

 

The Ramadan worshippers were legion. I felt that I had returned to Rome to some measure. It felt like a Papal Mass exodus but in this case with an even older city.

 

 

After spending  more time in Prayer at Calvary and enjoyed a respite and some long needed food: Hummus and their version of Tortillas: Flat Bread. I could see Jesus eating this bread. 

 

I went back out to see the Sabbath beginning at the Western Wall. It was crawling with all sorts of Jewish men and women. I joined in in Worship and prayed some. Later I joined in at a Local Synagogue but found myself nodding off and heading back home. All in a day's work in God's Holy City.

 

Day 1: Western Wall to Bethany in Palestine

I was awoken by a beautifully delicious sunrise. I felt the gentle rays of light penetrating the curtains of my room.

 

 

The view from the roof of my whereabouts arranged for an instant panoramic experience.

 

I went for a quick job down some of the neighboring streets intent on getting lost and finding my way back. The shops were still closed and it seemed that the Holy City was still asleep.

 

I ran into the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and went waltzing in. I walked right past a priest I recognized from my seminary days and feeling skimpy in my jogging gear I decided not to greet him just yet. I headed upstairs to see him begin Mass at the altar of the Crucifixion.

 

 

I headed downstairs and I found the sacristy to inquire about mass times at the Mount of Olives. This ended up with mass inside the Holy Sepulchre. There were just 6 or 7 of us inside the tiny cave of a Tomb where Jesus rose from the Dead.

 

 

I witnessed one of the pilgims pass out and fall over onto the altar. She awoke to my thinking: "We just witnessed a Resurrection…"

 

I visited the Western Wall - in Hebrew, "Ko-tel". I had brought a prayer with me from there and so I prayed it along with psalms from the Psalter.

 

 

After a long period with friends along the Eastern ramparts of Jerusalem we headed to the Last Supper Cenacle where Jesus celebrated the Feast of His Body and Blood. A flood of memories deluged my mind. A lot happened upstairs:

 

1. Jesus instituted the Eucharist
2. Jesus instituted the Priesthood
3. Jesus instituted the Apostolic Forgiveness of Sins
4. Pentecost: The Holy Spirit came upon the Apostles and the Church was born.
5. The Apostles hid from the world.
6. Jesus showed up after his Resurrection and said, "Be not Afraid!"

 

I'm sure those were just a few of the things that happened.

 

 

 Later that day after having a Falafel from Heaven I had the chance to do some of my own traveling. I went on to Bethany in Palestinian Territory. It is a very difficult neighborhood and not easy to get to on your own. I prayed at Martha and Mary's Home and grieved the death of a friend along with Jesus. That was the place where it is said of Jesus, "And Jesus wept" (John 11:35). I had been able to make it to the Mount of Olives and to pray in the Garden of Gethsemani. This beautiful place moved me also to tears to think of a friend who was to offer his own life for ours. I'm speaking of Jesus.

 

 

I was able to make it back into Jerusalem and Israeli territory by the help of Spanish Pilgrims but otherwise things were looking not all so easy.

 

After a quick swing through the Muslim Market and getting my daily dosage of fresh bread (for my hummus) it was back to Jerusalem.

 

 

All in all a beautiful day. 

Back at Home: Arriving into Israel and Jerusalem

Arriving to Israel has been in fact a return trip back home. Riding the shuttle bus from Tel Aviv's Ben Gurion airport to Jerusalem was an assertion of that point. Despite being pulled aside for two hours because of Israeli security (and I have a feeling I know why that happened - more about that at then end if you're interested…) or the massive hug I received from my travel companion upon arrival it was all about coming home. It was on that bus, surrounded mainly by Jews, that I discovered a beautiful gift:

 

"I am with my people….This is my Home."

 

Upon treading upon the land of Faith where Love for the One God emanated. It is the locus where our Faith took form in eleven restless apostles and where the Holy Spirit proved to the rest of the world that Love has no boundaries. The millions that come to Israel, or those that merely desire it, want to be part of something grand, something infinite.

 

 

Water has flowed through the hardened bedrock of this soil as a sign of its baptism in grace. Blood has also ravaged this Land, thicker always and crying out to God, "Have Mercy on us!".  Blood may be thicker than water but it is Grace and Mercy (Hesed) that overwhelms all hatred and anything less than love.

 

What do I hope to experience and live out in this, the Land of my People?

 

As Jesus asked the People of Israel, "What did you hope to see [in John the Baptist]?" I hope to give the latent answer that all of us have deep down inside:

 

I wish to Encounter the Living God.

 

I don't want to encounter Him in a perfect situation: friendly (or not so friendly) tourists, Middle East delights, intense Israeli security but rather in the quiet of my heart. In prayer and harmony.

 

 

*So a little bit about why I think I got held up in Israeli security for questioning:

 

Once upon a time having worn a Roman Collar as a religious/seminarian for years upon years I have a passport photo  accordingly so thus when I would say that I was here for vacation as opposed to "religious motives" they started taking a look at whether or not I had stolen someone's identity. Upon arrival I was pulled aside at the terminal and then again at customs. The questionings were momentary but the whole process took two hours with different questions about family and travel. What matters is that I'm here.