Home sweet home

A final glimpse of sunrise over Jerusalem...

We are all now home, gradually picking up the threads of our everyday lives. A few thoughts from members of our party.

"Pilgrimage is a sweeping through the corridors of our faith to make way fo the guide of our lives to re-enter."

"To dare to pilgrimage is to let go of self-control and allow Jesus to take charge of our lives in a new way."

"We are not followers of tradition but of the Living One."

"Between the times of quiet and prayer, most of Christ's ministry and the action in Jerusalem was surrounded by crowds, the business of buying and selling, criticism and support, noise and hustle. Not unlike our own lives and ministry."

"To keep in our prayers because they have asked: the three young waiters who served us yesterday, soon to graduate, for success and jobs and peace."

"The abundance of God's bounty for us, shown in the very first miracle in a family home in Cana."

"The long spiritual journey from the Jordan to Jerusalem, tracing Christ's footsteps as he knowingly walked the cross for us - f0r me. The harrowing pain of the last days and the triumphant joy of the Resurrection, with the affirming proclamation, 'He is Risen!' We are an Easter People."

"During our last Communion together as a group, I looked up at the dome and saw a narrow but steady shaft of light reaching from one side right across to the other. I looked up again (anxious, I suppose, that it would still be there) and saw that it was coming through one small broken pane of glass amongst all the other intact stained glass windows. And it seemed to symbolise our hope for this fractured, broken city. That God's light IS still there. Bring unto us peace, that which the world cannot give."

"It's hard to single out a moment from our incredible journey but I think the people made the experience for me. The calming influence of Bishop John, the inspirational guidance of Ghassan and the riveting insights from those who live in the Holy Land. May we not forget them as we return to our easy lives."

"Pilgrimage is to step out of the busyness of our daily life onto a road God chooses... then, in time, to turn away from the depth of encounter and walk back into the world from where we came, carrying the imprint of God in our Soul and the knowledge we will return to that holy place one day."

Most memorable: Eucharist on the shores of Galilee.

Unforgettable: The Way of the Cross along the Via Dolorosa.

Best (official) hotel: The Pilgerhaus

Best (unofficial) hotel: The Holiday Inn, Ashkelon. Waking up to the blue Med was marvellous.

Best sleep: Best Eastern, Ramallah - yes really!

Saddest moment: seeing the so-called Peace Line

You can find more photos taken by members of the group here and here.

He is risen indeed, Alleluia!

Our last morning in Jerusalem. The pilgrimage is almost over; the journey continues.

We have all changed. We have walked in Christ's footsteps. We have shared stories, shouldered each other's griefs, prayed together; we have laughed, we have rejoiced.

The first steps towards home begin with our final Eucharist in the Church of the Dormition on Mount Zion. "It is where we were heading all along," says Bishop John. "Our pilgrimage is ongoing from here, as we live our Christian lives with freshness."

Here, in our midst, the Risen Christ appeared to his disciples, he says. "And what does Jesus do? He says 'Peace be with you.' A week later, to Thomas, he says, 'Peace be with you.' We're told that this is the phrase most used right across the world. These were the first words to his disciples. And he says 'Peace be with you', every day.

"In other words, peace is the personal gift Jesus comes to bring that w all need. We've shared a lot on this pilgrimage as we've travelled, because that's what pilgrims do.

"Many of us come here carrying some pretty heavy stuff, but to each one of us, Jesus says, 'Peace be with you.' Not just 'good luck', but something more tangible, actual and effective."

He likens the effect to swimming in the Dead Sea earlier this week. "It's as if Jesus is saying, 'My peace will stop you sinking - you're safe.' Even if we may get slimy along the way.

"And this peace is not just a personal gift, but a political one, that is so needed in this land as we have heard."

He reminds us of all the stories we have heard, from Dr Jacques, Mitri, Jeff, Katya, Bishop Suheil. "The Risen Christ gives his gift of peace through people like that. And through our prayers and our presence we are also vehicles of that peace."

We have met people of hope, he says. "They are impressive, and we won't forget them. But you and I are also people of hope, because we are people of the Resurrection. We are unstoppable as Christians. There are 2000 million of us, and that number is increasing by 70,000 a day. We are a huge family. And we are an Easter people."

Going home is like coming down from the mountain top. "The struggle continues, but we have been at the top of the mountain. We are going home to ponder this in our hearts."

He tells us to pray for ourselves, for the people we have met, for each other - and to pray for the peace of Jerusalem.

"Jesus gave us the personal and political gift of peace. Jesus said, 'Peace be with you' - and it will be so."

A drop in the ocean

Our final evening. Habib, who runs Shepherds' Tours, Lightline's partner in the Holy Land, and his wife Katya tell us something about life in the embattled city of Gaza.

Christians make up just 3000 of a population of 1.5 million. "It is like one drop of water," Katya says.

A 12 m wall surrounds Gaza; there are electric fences, and no one can enter or leave without a permit. "It is like a huge jail." The population is very young: 53% are under 18 and under pressure. They lack good role models, caught up in a cycle of violence that seems unending.

"Before 2000, 95% of kids went to school. But now there is no work, no money. There are the missles. And school doesn't put bread on the table. People have been killed, and so children have to provide."

One Christmas, God sent Katya and Habib a needy Christian family who turned up with nowhere to stay. A friendship blossomed: Katya heard their story, and determined to do something to help the children's education. They now attend a Christian school in Gaza. First, Katya and Habib supported one child; now they support 12. Soon it will be 15 - or maybe 17.

"Everyone forgets there are Christians in Gaza," she says. "I help these Christian families raise their children in a Christian environment. All these children have a story. But believe me, they want to go to school, even when the city was under bombardment. They didn't give up, even in 2009.

"All I am doing is telling people there are Christians in Gaza - the Sisters are doing the rest."

The Way of the Cross

We visit the Pools of Bethesda where Jesus told the paralysed man to pick up his mat and walk. We grab a moment and sing in St Anne's, enjoying the wonderful acoustic. Now for Mass at the Ecce Homo Convent.

Bishop Alan preaches. The disciples had followed Jesus for all kinds of reasons, he tells us: for adventure, to bash the establishment, in the hope of a new political order. They'd arrived in Jerusalem on Palm Sunday to a rapturous welcome: the Kingdom was about to come.

But over the course of a week, everything had taken on a darker tincture. That Last Supper, Judas's betrayal, the scattering of the sheep. We, of course, know the end of the story; for the disciples, they just saw a trap being sprung. Worst of all, Jesus appeared to be doing nothing to stop it. How did that feel?

Jesus allwed himself to be overwhelmed and arrested. "Salvation was wrought not through a rescue by his disciples, not by saving the day and asserting control, but from giving it away," he says. "Where does that leave us?"

God wanted something better, and more painful. "In our leves, there are things we must let go of if we are to find death and resurrection."

Via Dolorosa

In silence, we leave in our three groups and follow the Stations of the Cross. The Via Dolorosa is crowded, the road is uneven. The crowds jostle us; vendors approach with their wares. There are awkward twists and turns along the way. One or two of us lose our footing; some need to be helped along the way by fellow pilgrims, their burdens shared.

At street level, it is close and hot. We are tired and uncomfortably thirsty. We pass through arhces, tunnels even, having to bend and stoop. Half way through we suddenly emerge into daylight, as if coming up for air. A blessed relief; then, just as suddenly, we descend again, and resume the journey of pain and tears.

At best, our silent procession is an object of mild curiosity; largely, the world carries on oblivious and goes about its business.

And then, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It is heaving, surging with people; an extraordinary number of pilgrims, singing and praying in their own tongues, all drawn to this holy site.

We enter, lose each other in the gloom; the groups disperse, scatter, reform. There is a press of bodies, incense, sweat. We find our different routes to the foot of the cross. Some are overcome by the moment.

And then - quite suddenly, it seems - we find ourselves in the oasis of the Franciscan Chapel. All 117 of us have somehow gathered: we are a body again. We hear the Easter reading (John 20: 11-18), as Mary meets Jesus in the garden. We sing, we share the Easter Greeting.

Alleluia, Christ is Risen. He is risen indeed: Alleluia!

Temple of the Mount

High above the Wall, we see the Temple of the Mount, the Al-Aqsa Mosque and the gleaming golden Dome of the Rock, sacred to Muslims. Al-Aqsa is the third holiest site after Mecca and Medina for Islamic pilgrimage.

We pause and pray for the peace of Jerusalem. Some of us make it up the Mount to see the site, but two-thirds of us are turned away by our guides who realise that the queue is by now at least an hour long, jeopardising the entire day's programme.

We sit, uncomfortably hot in the sun, waiting for the coaches to rescue us and take us to the Pool of Bethesda. Brian, our artist-in-residence, redeems the moment with a sketch.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem

For most of us, Wednesday begins with a visit to the Wailing Wall, the Western (and only remaining) wall of the Temple. It is a highly signficant holy site for the Jews, of course.

Men and women - cordoned into separate areas - pray earnestly, rocking, touching the wall some posting prayesr in the stonework.

On Mondays and Thursdays there are Bar Mitzvahs and Bat Mitzvahs, important family occasions to mark the coming of age. Earlier this week, one group found themselves caught up in the moment, invited to join the celebrations - another unique and unexpected encounter.

Mud, glorious mud

Tuesday afternoon sees us at the Dead Sea, via Qumran and the Dead Sea, ear-poppingly deep below sea level. It's hot, very hot.

Everyone has fun with the mud and swimming (or bobbing) in the salty soup that makes up the sea.

And finally, at sunset, the buses pull in to Jerusalem and the wonderful Knights' Palace, just inside the Old City walls.

Jerusalem the Golden

Finally, here we are in Jerusalem. Tuesday begins at St Peter in Gallicantu, or St Peter of the Cock Crow, where we remember Peter's three-fold denial of Jesus.

Listen to an extract from our worship

We hear how Jesus came here to the house of the High Priest. It is one of the few places where we can be completely sure that Jesus actually trod. (The others are Capernaum and Lithostrotos on the Via Dolorosa.)

We go down into the excavations, deep beneath the church. We crowd into the cavernous pit, where Jesus was imprisoned.

The lights go off: we are plunged into darkness. We imagine Jesus being lowered down into the cold dark damp cave. Up above, Bishop John reads from Psalm 88, a cry of despair, of desolation.

We move up into the church for Mass, celebrated by Archdeacon Karen. In his address, Bishop John says that this is the moment that Peter finally grew up. He learned he was as fallible as the next person. "He denied Jesus not just once but three times," he says.

"Peter the Rock became Peter the Pebble. He finally lost his innocence."

He challenges us: have we ever denied our faith, played it down? "When Peter denies Jesus it is a form of betrayal. Judas had betrayed Jesus, but this was another form of betrayal - a betrayal of friendship. How did Jesus feel as one by one, the disciples fell away?"

He reminds us that only hours earlier, Peter had promised Jesus his love. Now he stabbed him in the heart.

"Now Jesus was down in the pit. How much worse can it get? The answer: a lot worse. But there's no pit that you have been in or are in or will be which Jesus doesn't understand. No dark place where Jesus is absent. No problem where you are alone.

"But at this point Jesus was alone. Very alone."



"He denied Jesus

Let battle commence

I'm not sure quite whose idea it was but the Blue Coach threw down the challenge of a clergy vs. laity skittles match. The original venue was Manger Square in Bethlehem, but somehow the match never transpired.

Our sidetrip to Ramallah offered neither time nor obvious location. But by the time we reached Ashkelon, there were no more excuses.

To be fair, the huge, shiny floored lobby of the Holiday Inn offered too good a surface to ignore. The ever-resourceful Debbie came up with the necessary equipment (water bottles and apples left over from lunch) and the teams were recruited. A number of clergy who'd previously been in hiding emerged into the daylight and stood up to be counted.

There are still some who maintain that the clergy didn't play fair. Certainly their naturally competitive streak came into play. Rumour had it that the Bishop was the one who fought dirtiest. But they certainly won hands down. Rematch, anyone?

The Mount of Olives

The Mount of Olives is bustling, the crowds quite overwhelming. We are crushed by the people around us, as Jesus must have been as he arrived in Jerusalem.

From the Mount, we see the city, as Jesus must have done. We begin at Bethphage, where the disciples find the colt for him.

As we pause for worship, Bishop John asks us to think of the contrast between the two processions arriving in Jerusalem that day: Jesus on a lowly donkey, amidst the noise and confusion, Pilate's grand procession from Caesarea.

“One believed in smiting your enemy, the other in loving your enemy. It's a huge contrast. But to most of the world today, it looks as if we are part of Pilate's procession,” he says.

Descending through the crush, we arrive at the Pater Noster church, where the Lord's Prayer is displayed in 120 languages. “Prayer was at the heart of Jesus's life. Time spent with his heavenly Father was central to all he did. He prayed all night when he has an important decision to make. And this is the model prayer, said all over the world.”

He invites us to say it slowly, in any language we know.

On down the hill, a twisting route. Under the olive trees, past the traders. It's hot, dusty. We're thirsty, tired. We arrive at Dominus Flevit, the church that commemorates the spot where Jesus wept over the City of Jerusalem.

Archdeacon Karen tells us that for her, these are two of the most powerful words in the Gospels. We reflect on some verses from Jeremiah, lamenting over Jerusalem.

On again, and we reach the Garden of Gethsemane. No chance for peace and prayer here: the Garden is almost overrun. But in one roped-off area, people are harvesting the olives, everyday life going on as ever. The Church of All Nations is a crush. Nonetheless we manage to gather around the altar built over the rock where Jesus prayed.

“This stone is very precious. Here was the culmination of the issue Jesus was facing all the way through,” says Bishop John. “He was tempted to take the easy way out. He had to have it out with God. It was the final handing over of Jesus to God's hands. This is the time Jesus says 'I've done all I can, it's over to you.'”

Lunch, and then a visit to the Israel Museum, where there is a scale model of Jerusalem in the time of Jesus, and also an innovative display of the Dead Sea Scrolls, which were discovered by a Bedouin shepherd boy in the 1940s in Khirbet Qumran, on the programme for tomorrow.

My soul doth magnify the Lord

Sunday ends with a visit commemorating a visit. We walk up to the Church of the Visitation, in the village of Ein Karem, where the pregnant Mary met her cousin Elizabeth.

There are tiled tablets showing the Magnificat in hundreds of languages. We gather to say Evening Prayer in a small outdoor chapel.

Listen to an extract from our service

Bishop John reminds us how vulnerable Mary was. “She needed a break. She was shocked,” he says.

“She decides to go to the hill country to see wise cousin Elizabeth. Elizabeth bursts with joy and tells Mary hoer own baby leapt for joy in her womb.”

Mary gets caught up in the moment and responds with the song we know as the Magnificat – a song of joy and a cry for justice. “It's strong stuff. We have a God of justice as well as wonder,” says Bishop John.

“This is a flagship text for Christians. How can it be right that 1% of the world owns 40% of the world's wealth? And that 5% owns 70% of that wealth? Or that the three richest people in the world are richer than the 48 poorest nations put together?”

We pray the Micah prayer, which is being said by 100 million Christians from 40 countries around the world on this day, the 10.10.10.

O Lord, our great and awesome God, loyal to your promise of love and faithful to all who honour and obey you, hear our prayer.
We pray for those who live in poverty,
we cry out for those who are denied justice and
we weep for all who are suffering.
We confess that we have not always obeyed you.
We have neglected your commands and have ignored your call for justice.
We have been guided by self-interest and lived in spiritual poverty.
Forgive us.
We remember your promises to fill the hungry with good things, to redeem the land by your mighty hand and to restore peace.
Father God, help us always to proclaim your justice and mercy with humility, so that, by the power of your Spirit, we can rid the world of the sin of extreme poverty.
As part of your global church, we stand with millions who praise and worship you.
May our words and deeds declare your perfect goodness, love and righteousness to both the powerful and the powerless
so that your Kingdom may come on earth as it is in heaven. Amen

Blessed are the peace-keepers part 2

Jeff Halper heads up an organisation called the Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions (ICAHD), founded in 1997.

He gives us a fascinating potted history of the Arab/Israeli conflict. The whole area between the Mediterranean and the Jordan River is the Holy Land, he says. “The trouble is, two peoples are claiming one land.”

He reminds us that Zionism grew out of an emerging nationalism in Europe at the end of the 19th century, when Jews were being persecuted, especially in Russia. They fled, some west to the UK and the US, but many others wanted to claim Israel as their homeland. He tries to be fair: he doesn't believe that the driving force behind Zionism was colonial.

“Their blind spot was that they didn't see the Arabs, the Palestinians already living there,” he says.” They were irrelevant to the Jewish national story.

“The fly in the ointment, was that Zionists came into this country with an exclusive claim, and that turned Zionisms into a colonial movement, because they didn't recognise the rights or even existence of the indigenous people living here.

“In 1948, 700,000 Palestinians were driven out of the city, and in 1967 there was another displacement. This exclusive claim on the land continues until this present day.”

A highly effective method for displacing Palestinians has been through the systematic demolition of their homes. Since 1967, more than 24,000 houses have been bulldozed.

A number of attempts to carve up the land between the two nations were tried and failed in the 20th century. But in 1988 the PLO under Yasser Arafat accepted the so-called two-state solution under which Israel would take 78% of the land – even though Palestinians make up half the population. The Palestinians agreed that if they could have the West Bank, East Jerusalem and Gaza as their homeland, they would recognise the state of Israel.

“It's not fair or just, but the Palestinians accepted this,” he says.

The two-state solution was accepted by the international community. In 2002 the Arab League accepted it. “Everyone agrees,” says Jeff. “Most Israeli Jews would also accept this, provided they were assured of their security.”

The problem, he says, is the Israeli Government, a coalition dominated by extremists. The Israeli Government has sanctioned over 200 illegal settlements on the West Bank and built a wall twice as high as the Berlin Wall and five times longer.

“The Israeli Government is still pursuing a policy of exclusivity. And Congress – which is dominated by Jews and Christian Zionists – won't allow the US to get tough on Israel.”

The real danger now, he says, echoing Mitri Raheb's words on Saturday, is that the Holy Land will move to apartheid. “The only alternative is a one-state solution and that's not even on the negotiating table. We're stuck.”

Jeff's organisation sets out to monitor and prevent house demolition, “It's a tragic, traumatic experience. Your sacred space is violated when your home is destroyed,” he says. “And it happens not because you are a terrorist, but because the Israeli Government refuses to grant building permits to Palestinians, even if they own the land.”

Some of this is based on outdated zoning regulations, dating back to the British Mandate when the population was a quarter the size. The Israeli Government has declared 72% of the West Bank as “state land”.

Many more homes have been demolished in military operations: 8000 Palestinian homes were destroyed in collateral damage in the conflict in Gaza of 2008/09. Bulldozers as high as two-storey buildings were sent in ahead of the tanks to clear the way.

“Even today there are 22,000 house demolition orders outstanding in East Jerusalem. That could happen at any time. Some families have seen their houses destroyed two or three times.

“Yet Israel has managed to capture the public discussion, as a poor western democracy fighting Muslim terrorists. Our job is to say 'no', this is not about security and we are going to resist it, by getting in front of bulldozers, calling journalists and diplomats, and rebuilding homes. We've rebuilt 170 houses over the last 12 years, not as a humanitarian gesture but as a political one, as a way of showing solidarity.”

Jeff ends with a strong image. The Israel/Palestine situation is not the bloodiest conflict, he says, when you compare it to what is going on in the Congo, for example. “But it is the bone in the throat of the international community.”

Blessed are the peace-keepers Part 1

Another gift comes our way: also in the Cathedral this morning are several members of the Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme in Palestine and Israel.

These are volunteers, recruited internationally through the World Council of Churches, who spend three months at a time monitoring checkpoints.

“The Israeli Government doesn't allow UN peace keepers so we monitor house demolitions and checkpoints," says Terry, their spokesman. "We are a witness to the situation of Palestinians and encourage the Israeli peace movement. The idea is to be a calming presence at checkpoints, where tensions can get high.

“It helps the Palestinians to know we are there and gives the message to Israeli soldiers that the international community is watching.”

The team members are described as “accompaniers” while they in Israel on their three-month posting, but become “advocates” on their return home, where they tell their story as widely as possible.

Another chance encounter comes in the form of Lydia and Hector Patmore (see picture), a young British couple who have recently arrived in Jerusalem and are part of the Cathedral community.

It emerges that they both grew up in our diocese (Beaconsfield and Wokingham) and one of our pilgrims is a long-standing friend of Lydia's family.

Living stones

Sunday, meanwhile, has been full. We start in St George's Cathedral, Jerusalem. This means passing through a military checkpoint.

Three soldiers board the bus. Two are very young, no more than teenagers, which makes the machine gun slung over their shoulders all the more shocking. The girl smiles uncertainly, and says good morning.

We have been warned to carry our passports, in case of inspection, and that we might have to disembark the bus while it is inspected, but in the event we are waved through.

The checkpoints are a minor nuisance to visitors; to Palestinians, they are massive, daily obstacle in the way of trying to earn a living. We hear of restrictions of movement, people queuing at the checkpoints at 4 a.m., just to be at work in the city by 8 a.m., of permits issued and denied apparently at random.

The Cathedral Church of St George the Martyr is the seat of the Anglican Bishop in Jerusalem. The service takes place in a mix of Arabic and English. The Bishop, the Rt Revd Suheil Dawani, shares the leading of the service with Bishop John.

After the service, we enjoy coffee and biscuits in the cathedral precincts, and then Bishop Suheil (the 14th bishop and the fourth Arab one) tells us about the life and work of his diocese. There are 27 parishes.

Bishop Suheil identifies three particular areas of work: pastoral care, which of course means caring for communities living in difficult circumstances; institutions,providing health and education services to those in need without differentiation; and ecumenical work, amongst the 13 church traditions in the Holy Land.

“The Christian presence is very important to the region and for the peace of the land,” he says. “In this land we should live in peace together. Jerusalem is the city of God – it is holy for the three Abrahamic faiths, and we must respect this.

"The Christian community can be a moderating influence in promoting a just and lasting peace for the benefit of all God's people, from the three Abrahamic faiths. We work as a bridge to bring together Muslims and Jews.”

We hear again about the difficulties Christians are enduring in the Holy Land. “The Christian community is easily forgotten – we are not on the agenda in the West,” he says. “We are paying the price for the Iraq war.”

The Anglican church is active in promoting peace, especially through peace education.

But they are struggling: whereas there used to be 30,000 Christians in 1967, Christians now make up less than 2% of the total populaion. There are 6000-7000 Christians in Jerusalem.

“We are losing our families and young people. There is no future, no jobs, and no housing for them. They look for a better future outside this region,” he says.

Expect the unexpected part 2

Ramallah was never meant to be on our itinerary. Nor was Ashkelon, down on the Mediterranean coast. Due to a hideous mix-up over bookings, we find ourselves staying a second night away from Jerusalem. Truly, no room at the inn.

The pilgrims are remarkably resilient: the hotel in Ramallah is not up to the standard we have come to enjoy to date, but an excellent dinner out in the best restaurant in town soon restores our spirits. We all agree that we have enjoyed a unique insight well off the pilgrim trail.

Ashkelon, on the other hand, offers a western style hotel (Holiday Inn, no less) with sea views. It's startling - like a giant golf ball or a scoop of ice cream. But what it certainly is, is clean, comfortable, spacious and an attractive environment in which to relax after a somewhat demanding 24 hours.

Once again our lovely group has come up trumps and everyone seems determined to enjoy the adventure. Tomorrow we will (DV) finally make it to the Knights' Palace, but meanwhile we are all enjoying an unexpected stay in a seaside resort popular with Israeli holidaymakers.

Expect the unexpected part 1

To expect the unexpected is a good rule for any pilgrimage. Perhaps that is especially so in the Middle East, when things don't always go according to plan. Which is how we have found ourselves back on the West Bank, in this case in Ramallah, rather than in the Old City of Jerusalem as we had expected.

Ramallah is a substantial modern city, and serves as the Palestinian capital. The presence of Yasser Arafat lingers: his face is painted on the Wall as we pass the checkpoint, and his mausoleum is here.

All is well and the party is cheerful and has adapted to the change of plan well.

For behold, a virgin shall conceive

... and bring forth a child.

Pilgrim Sally Raikes took this lovely picture at the Holy Family Hospital in Bethlehem.

She met this young mother when the rest of the party had already gathered in the hospital chapel. Sally was particularly delighted, as she herself is a retired midwife.

The encounter was just another example of the unexpected gifts that have fallen into many of our laps while on pilgrimage.

An inspiring encounter

After lunch we meet an inspiring Palestinian Lutheran pastor, the Revd Dr Mitri Raheb who is President of the Diyar Consortium , which serves the Palestinian community in the Bethlehem in remarkable ways.

It is unfortunate, he tells us, that most people still don't know that there are Palestinian Christians living in the country. "Americans tend to ask us when we converted," he says.

"I tell them that the first Christian missionary was Jesus Christ and he was born in our town. The only thing Palestine exports is Christianity. The Gospel has 'made in Palestine' on the back."

It is important, he says, that Christianity doesn't disappear from the land his ancestors. "We don't want to become a Christian theme park. We really believe that the Gospel is as valid today as it was 2000 years ago, for the whole world and this country. Without our Christian witness, Palestine and Israel would be weaker."

People also tend to think that Arabs are Muslims. Far from it: the vast majority of Muslims are not Arabs. And, of course, Christianity is older than Islam.

He tells us that life isn't easy for Palestinians at the moment. The Jewish settlements make Palestine "like a swiss cheese", with the Palestinians forced into the gaps. Life since the year 2000 has been severely restricted, with tough limits on permits for travel. He reminds us of the 40-day siege in 2002 of the Church of the Nativity, which left Bethlehem with nearly half a million dollars of damange.

"But we are here by choice," he says. "We believe it is our calling."

The Diyar Centre started 15 years ago, as a one man show ("I was the man and I was the show"). It has since expanded to become the third largest employer in Bethlehem. The project encompasses a school for 300, care for the elderly, and a college specialising in culture and the arts attended by 150 students. Hundreds more take part in music, theatre and the arts. The arts is "a foretaste of the Kingdom", and particularly important in a culture when the dominant sound is that of gunfire.

"If the end to conflict is a marathon, not a sprint, we need to teach people to breathe, and that is what music does, what art does," he says. "I believe it is dangerous to give in to liturgies of death. We need to create liturgies of life, and for that we need music."

Art and culture also helps the Palestinians to define themselves. "We need our people to develop and identity of our own, irrespective of those around us."

He says he is not optimistic about the outcome of the current peace talks. He reminds us that Jesus said "Blessed are the peacemakers" and not "the peace-talkers".

"We are moving towards the most sophisticated system of apartheid in the modern world," he says. Nonetheless, he is hopeful - and says he will continue to go out and plant olive trees for the future.

"Unless we plant olive trees today, we will have no oil for healing, no shadow for our children from the heat, and no branches to wave when peace comes."

O little town of Bethlehem

School starts early in Bethlehem. These boys were milling in their playground by 7 a.m. It was early start for many of us, too, with church bells and the call to prayer punctuating the night.

Our day formally started with a short act of prayer in the Franciscan church next to Casa Nova (where we are staying) and adjacent to the Church of the Nativity.

Bishop John tells us that the phrase "no room in the inn" may in fact mean "no spare room in the family home". Perhaps Mary and Joseph made do with the lower floor of the house, where the animals were kept.


"But the important thing is that here or hereabouts, the word became flesh and life moved on its hinges," he says. "This is a place of absolute significance in the history of the world and in our lives."

The Church of the Nativity - filled with scaffolding today as the 18th century wooden roof is replaced - dates back to 540 AD, and replaces an earlier shrine built over the Grotto and destroyed by the Samaritans in the first century. This makes it the oldest church in the world.

Listen to an extract from our worship

Deep in the foundations, we find the Chapel of St Joseph, and the Grotto where the hermit St Jerome spent 40 years translating the Bible into Latin (the Vulgate) from a collection of Rabbinical texts.

Shepherds' Fields

"And there were shepherds, biding in the fields, feeding their flocks by night..."

We visit the Shepherds' fields and try to imagine what it would have been like when Jesus was born. Looking out, we can see scrubby pasture, an inhospitable terrain. Shepherds, our guide tells us, were from the underside of society. Of those to hear of the birth of Jesus, their social status could not have been further from that of the Magi, who were learned men. But Jesus comes for everyone.


What happened to those shepherds afterwards, asks Bishop John? Did it change their lives - or was it just a good story to tell the grandchildren? Did they follow the events of the rest of his life? "What matters is what we do with the experiences we are given of God, of his love," he says.


Today the fields are scarred with the illegal Jewish settlements: Har Homa stands new and shiny in the middle of Palestinian territory. (You can spot the difference between Israeli and Arab houses because the Palestinian ones all have water tanks on the roof. This is because the water supply to Palestine is erratic; Palestinians are lucky to get water three days a week. Oddly, it seems to flow freely in the taps of the Jewish settlements metres away.)


The Israeli argument that this is not the West Bank, but part of Jerusalem doesn't hold water: Jerusalem is eight miles away. Settlers are given substantial financial incentives to live in these new complexes, so the temptation must be strong, but it's still hard to imagine the mindset behind choosing to live in one of these complexes.


Holy Family Hospital

Our next stop is the Holy Family Hospital, run by the Sovereign Order of Malta.A hospital has stood on this spot since 1882, though the current one was commissioned in 1990. There are 63 beds and 18 ICU beds. It is also a training hospital, with reciprocal links to institutions in Paris, Dublin and London.

Facilities are state-of-the-art, and its record is enviable: since 1990 nearly 50,000 babies have been born here, and mortality is less than 2%. In comparison, in Gaza, the rate is somewhere between 35 and 40%.

The hospital is dedicated to providing quality care for women and infants, without regard to religion or national origins. In an area of 70% unemployment and no social security and no medical insurance, the Holy Family's slogan is "the poor deserve the best".

There is no direct government funding: the equipment has been provided by charities such as USAID and the Belgian government, and the annual running costs (only $3million dollars) are split between patient payments (45%) and donations (55%).

There are some uncomfortable questions about the care of multiple births resulting from IVF treatment, and birth control, but the work of the hospital is clearly impressive, and a moving act of Christian witness just 800m from the place where one first century mother gave birth to the Son of God. The morning ends with a Eucharist celebrated in the hospital chapel. You can read Archdeacon Karen's sermon here or play an extract from our service.

Casting Nets on Sea of Galilee

 

Impressions of the Holy Land

These beautiful paintings have been done on the hoof by pilgrim Brian Hall. He sketches in pen and ink during the day, and adds the watercolours back at the hotel.

Another fine view

What a contrast to life in the shadow of the wall of separation ... a stunning sunset, taken by Ray up by the Sea of Galilee.

What, I wonder, were Jesus's feelings leaving the peace and quiet of Galilee, where the crowds had flocked around him, to the busy press of Jerusalem?

As Bishop John reminded us yesterday, he knew it would all end in tears.

In your face: there's no escaping the wall

By now we are in occupied east Jerusalem, which is dotted with illegal settlements. We see the wall of separation - a vast, aggressive, concrete monster, cutting clean across roads, routes that have existed for years. It used to be possible to walk from Bethany to Jerusalem in five minutes: now, a massive diversion is required. The wall surrounds Bethlehem on three sides.

The wall is 9m high and 750km long. It cost $3.5bn to build. Architecturally, the wall is as brutal as its existence is shocking. Yet, all along, it is decorated with graffiti, suggesting that people's spirits remain indomitable, however hard life is.

Guerilla graffiti artist Banksy was here, of course, in 2005, adding his own particular spin on the wall. You can see his work here.

From the River Jordan to the West Bank

We begin the day on the banks of the River Jordan as we leave the Galilee and turn our hearts towards Jerusalem. Bishop John reminds us that Jesus did just this - leaving behind his ministry in Galilee for all that lay ahead.

We stop at Yardemit by the River Jordan. At only 9 a.m. the site is bustling with parties of pilgrims all wanting to do as we will do - renew their baptismal vows in the River Jordan.

Listen to the Gospel reading

Some pilgrims, white robed, are already in the river. We Anglicans take a lower key approach: a short service (against another glorious backdrop) with the opportunity for those who wish to be anointed with the oil of Chrism. Bishop John tells us that we are saying "yes, I'm with you" to God (like Mary, like Simon Peter and the other disciples) and his response is "I was always with you anyway."

Jericho

We leave the River Jordan and Israel and drive on the West Bank. Jericho lies ahead: it is the oldest city in the world, around 10,000 years old. It's hot, very hot; it is also one of the lowest cities of the world, at 1000 ft below sea level.

Our guide reminds us that Joshua and his army marched around the city of Jericho for seven days and seven nights to bring down the walls. The original city was abandoned in 400 BC. It was excavated by the famous British archaeologist, Dame Kathleen Kenyon, and her team.

From the tel, we can see modern Jericho, nestling in the fertile plain, surprisingly green in the desert. Above us is the Mount of Temptation, where Jesus fasted and was tempted by Satan. A monastery clings to the steep and inhospitable slopes, and higher still, the remains of a Crusader fortification.

After lunch - and some shopping for souvenirs - we move on, through the Judean mountains. Bedouin nomads still populate the rocky terrain, herding their flocks and moving from place to place. It is a vivid reminder of the Old Testament. We catch a glimpse of the Dead Sea, which is 1300 ft below sea level.

Bethany

And now to Bethany, the place Jesus made his home, where he really relaxed with good friends. To reach it, we drive past Ma'aleh Adummim, a prosperous Jewish, illegal settlement, in stark contrast to the character of some of the Palestinian villages.

In Bethany we gather in the church that commemorates the raising of Lazarus. This is the third church on this site: the current one replaces earlier Byzantine and Crusader ones.

We hear the story of Mary and Martha. Bishop John asks us whose side we are on - and the group is divided, but more favoured Martha. He says that rather than imagining the message is that a contemplative approach to faith is superior to an activist one, we should realise that this is one moment in a story. "We all need to be a mix of Mary and Martha," he says, "and we all need each other."

On the shores of Galilee

Our morning begins with a Eucharist for everyone on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. For many of us this just a short walk from the guesthouse - a pretty stroll through olive groves. The setting is truly memorable: we are seated on tree trunks, before a simple stone altar. The backdrop could not be more perfect: the sparkling sea, tranquil at this time of morning.

Listen to hymn

The Gospel reading is from Luke (5:1-11). Jesus is teaching the crowds from a fishing boat. He tells Simon Peter to cast his nets on the other side - at which point the fishermen catch so many fish their nets begin to break. Simon Peter falls down at Jesus's knees, and declares himself a sinner. Bishop John tells us that, like Mary yesterday who said "yes" to God, this is the moment Simon, James and John make that life-changing decision to accept the call from Jesus. He reminds us that wholehearted acceptance of the Gospel will not necessarily be easy.

Fishing boat

Next we go out on a fishing boat. The crew kindly raise a union flag in our honour and we find ourselves - a little bizarrely - standing to sing the national anthem. And then, in the middle of the lake, the captain silences the engine and we pause for a short act of worship. I now discover that this wasn't universal - at least one of the other parties swerved the flag raising for a bit of net spinning.

Jesus's calming of the waters was an act of authority, says Bishop John, as was the walking on the water. When Simon Peter went out to meet him, it required 100% surrender... and 100% trust. "As Christians, we are not spared from our problems," he says. We sing "Dear Lord and Father of mankind..." Could there be a better place to enjoy this hymn?

Later we look at an Ancient Galilee Boat that was excavated from the sea in 1986 and carefully raised. We watch a short film about its rescue and reconstruction and then walk around it. It is extraordinary to think that it has been dated back to the first centuries BCE/CE.

Loaves and fishes

The rest of the day takes in the Church of the Multiplication, when we remember God's extravagant generosity. "Nothing was wasted, and nothing we offer is ever wasted," says Bishop John. We visit the Mount of Beatitudes , where Bishop John reminds us that while the Beatitudes seem "topsy turvy" it is in fact we who are upside down and need to find a different way of living. "These things happen when Jesus is Lord."

At the lakeside Church of Peter's Primacy, we remember Peter's encounter with the risen Christ who asks him three times if he loves him, echoing the three times Peter denied Jesus. Jesus brings Peter back into the fold with love and gentleness, a reminder that Jesus loves us as the sinners we are. A statue shows Peter at Jesus's feet.

The day ends in Capernaum, in the church built over the ruins of what is said to be St Peter's house. Two groups listen to Tony Price, a lively storyteller, retelling one of Jesus's parables before exploring the ruins of the former fishing village.

Click on the images left to go to Flickr. You may download these images as a reminder of our pilgrimage together.

Sunrise over Galilee

How beautiful is this? Many thanks to David Peck, fellow pilgrim for this. To capture this moment David must have got up soon after 5 a.m.

Others in the group rose at 6 a.m. just for the pleasure of an early morning swim in the sea (which is, of course, actually a lake). I'm told it was beautifully warm, as the swimmers were bathed in morning sunshine.

Today we will spend the day on or around the shores of the lake, round which so much of Jesus's ministry was spent.

The Ancient Galilee Boat - by Chris Gothard, pilgrim

Just ordinary, really.
One of dozens like it
Valuable, yes, for those of us
With a living to make,
But commonplace.

There was this man
He just said he needed
A boat. To get away from
The crowds.

Mad they were for him.
You see, sound does funny
Things here.
And it turns out he wanted
To get onto the sea, to
Talk to them all, be heard.

But I still think he borrowed
Me and my boat to get away.

I looked in his eyes and
Saw he was weary.
Seems like whatever way
He said it, this message,
That lot just didn't get it.

He wanted to get away
All right. Sure of it.

Then he turned towards them.
And I looked into his eyes
And saw eternity.

No wonder he was tired.

7.10.10

Our first full day - Nazareth, Cana and Mt Tabor

Our first full day in the Holy Land and we start at the very beginning, which, as we all know, is a very good place to start.

And so to Cana, the site of Jesus's first miracle. Our Lightline guide, Sami, talks about weddings in the Middle East. Even today, he says, wedding celebrations last a week, something to be shared with the whole community.

The hill villages of Cana and Nazareth are not too far apart. Sami himself used to walk between the two twice a week during his schooldays. He suggests that Jesus knew the family celebrating the wedding, and points out that Jesus's mother was already there - had Mary gone ahead to Cana to help with the preparations? He suggests the miracle had involved wine because wine is a cause of joy, and something to be shared. We enter the red-domed Franciscan 'wedding' church for a short act of worship. In the crypt we see a stone wine jar - enormous! - and far heavier than most of us had imagined.

Then on to Nazareth and the Basilica of the Annunciation. This church is huge: its gigantic dome dominates the town. It was completed in 1969. Another short act of worship, singing around the rock cave which is venerated as the place Mary lived. Then on to the simpler Synagogue Church, a vaulted Crusader building associated withe synagogue where Jesus is said to have taught.

Then it is up to Christ Church, the Anglican church, and our first Eucharist with the whole pilgrimage group together. One coach is late arriving, but the other two thirds of the group takes the chance to sit quietly reflecting on the morning.

Once we have gathered, Bishop John presides. Mary's encounter with God changed everything, he says. She made space in her life to allow God to act. By coming on pilgrimage, we have begun to open our hearts, but nothing more will happen unless we make space for God, and allow ourselves to go on a journey of the heart. This may mean emptying ourselves so that God can fill us with good things. "When we say yes to God, the spiritual journey begins," he says. "We need to slow down on pilgrimage, to be aware of each moment as a gift."

After a substantial lunch, it is on to Mt Tabor, the site of the Transfiguration of Jesus. To reach this, pilgrims have to travel up the steep hairpin bends in a fleet of eight-seater taxi. Bear in mind that the Oxford party fills three coachloads and it was bound to be a challenge...

One coach had a long wait this morning. Another waits a long time at the end of the day, and only just arrives before the the Basilica closes for the day. Just in time, we sing and pray, and Bishop John tells us that the Transfiguration was a glimpse of glory. He reminds us of the Elizabeth Barrett Browning poem, "Earth is Crammed with Heaven... and every common bush afire with God, but only he who sees takes off his shoes, the rest sit around and pick blackberries."

We wait, the air suddenly cooling as darkness falls. The day has been warm, sunny and dry. We are told it is a relief after an unbearably hot summer. We are encouraged to drink plenty and realise all over again how important the gift of water is in such a climate. A long day, with lots to take away and think about.

Listen to a few minutes from our eucharist in Nazareth

When does a pilgrimage begin?

When exactly, we wondered, does a pilgrimage begin? Is it at the airport - in which case, which one? Heathrow (very early this morning, for 30 of our party; later in the day for those arriving by El Al) or Tel Aviv? When we started packing?

Or is it tonight, when travel weary, we settle in at our hotels on the shores of Lake Galilee? Tomorrow morning, when our programme begins? At lunchtime, which will be the first opportunity the whole diocesan party has to gather?

Or perhaps our journey began when we first read about the pilgrimage and decided to come to the Holy Land. Our hope is certainly that the experience of the next few days will live on in our lives much longer than the time we are actually in Israel.

Last minute preparations

As we all pack our bags and prepare for the pilgrimage, the Revd Amanda Bloor, Chaplain to the Bishop of Oxford and one of the group leaders, says why she is looking forward to the pilgrimage.