Sentire Cum Ecclesia

23rd November, 2012
Jerusalem and Bethany

For all photos for 23rd November, click here to view them on my dropbox site. If you don’t have Dropbox, use this link to sign up and you and I will both get a bonus amount of free storage space.

Like the women going to the tomb before daybreak, we rose long before the sun came up (4:30am) to walk to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre for Mass at 5:15am. It was exciting to walk through the deserted streets of the Old City at that hour, and when we entered the tomb we were some of the only ones there. The Coptic monks were chanting morning prayer on the other side of the Tomb, but their chanting filled the whole building. The Holy Sepulchre is a dark and gloomy place at the best of times, but before dawn with the candles burning and the chanting – well, it was easy to meditate on the resurrection. While we were waiting, Rosemary showed us a nearby excavated Jewish tomb off the wall of one of the chapels. It was quite an experience to looking inside this dark, small empty tomb, and to see the places where the dead were once laid. It was very easy to imagine how the women and Peter and John would have felt looking into the tomb of Jesus on the first Easter Sunday. It is the existence of such tombs in the area that corroborated the location archeologically as a very possible place of Jesus’ own burial, as the site was indeed outside the city walls in Jesus’ day.

We were assigned the “Latin Calvary Chapel”, which also doubles as the 11th station of the cross on the Via Dolorosa. A large mosaic of the nails being driven into Jesus hands on the cross was above the altar. Fr Thin celebrated mass – which was a little ironic, because he is by far the shortest priest, and the altar in this chapel is a good couple of inches taller than the normal altar height. It is also against the wall, so Fr Thin celebrated ad orientam. We were joined by a number of people not part of our party, but it seems the thing you do when you are at the Holy Sepulchre is join in on any mass going. Both before and after the mass, we spent a bit of time walking around the building, but I found myself quite bewildered by the layout. At the doorway, there is a flat stone, about the size of an altar stone. Other visitors were venerating it, and so I figured I would too, on the principle that if it is being venerated, it must be venerable, and I could find out why later on. Actually, the answer was staring me in the face on the wall behind the stone, which sports a huge mosaic of the anointing of Jesus after his death. This stone is the traditional “Stone of the Anointing” and this spot is the 13th Station in the Via Dolorosa before the Tomb itself (which is the 14th station). When I bowed my head down to it, I could smell that it was perfumed. I believe that talc powder is smeared on it. Later in the day, when we returned to the Sepulchre at the end of the Via Dolorosa, I saw many pilgrims wiping cloths and handkerchiefs on the stone to take home with them.

Walking back at about 6:30am, the only other people in the streets were the garbage collectors. I was walking with Fr Ian and chatting on the way, when I noticed that my head was cold and then realised that I wasn’t wearing my tweed hat. I must have left it in the Holy Sepulchre. I didn’t want to lose this hat, as it had become one of my favourites and I had bought it especially for this trip. Not knowing whether to expect to find it still after all this time, I turned and dashed back down the alleyways to the Church (taking only one wrong turn – I found that the way to remember the streets was to look for little landmarks). I found my hat on the very first seat on which I had sat when we arrived.

I called home when we got back to the Hotel, with the intention of skyping, but the family was going out to the St Bernadette’s Primary School car boot sale, and Mia was going to try to sell all her old toys. Instead, we had an extended phone call to catch up on all the news. I feel very far from home during these conversations. During the call, a thunderstorm came over Jerusalem, and it began to rain very solidly. I had bought a sturdy rain poncho from the Salvos before leaving home and I saw that this would come in handy today.

After breakfast, we boarded the bus for the day’s tour of Jerusalem. Our first point of call was the “Pater Noster Cloister” in the Kidron Valley. This is a strange site historically (the Wikipedia entry for the “Church of the Pater Noster” gives the background. Originally the site of a Constantinian basilica commemorating the Ascension, in the 19th Century a cloister was built over the site and a cave discovered. It has become associated with the teaching of the Lord’s Prayer – which in Luke 11 is recorded after the story of Mary and Martha (which takes place in Bethany the other side of the Mount of Olives). The idea is that perhaps this cave was a place where Jesus stopped to pray along the way back to Jerusalem – for shelter from the sun or rain. In our case, it was raining, and had been since we left Notre Dame. We sang the Lord’s Prayer in the cave, before going up to look at the rest of the cloister. This is the real attraction of the place: on the walls of the cloister, made of painted tiles, are copies of the Our Father in all the languages of the world – well, almost – there are 135 different languages currently represented and still growing. We walked around the cloister, looking for the Prayer in languages known by members of the group, and praying in these languages. I prayed the prayer in German. It is a beautiful place, and a pity that it was raining, because it was a place conducive to sitting in prayer.

From there the bus took us around to the Lion Gate on the North East corner of the Temple Mount. Here, just inside the entrance, is the Church of St Anne, on the traditional site of the birth of the Blessed Virgin (St Anne was Mary’s mother). This church is one of the only completely preserved Crusader churches in Jerusalem, and has perfect acoustics for Gregorian chant. I had the Parish Book of Chant on my iPhone, and flicked through it till I came to something I knew – the Rorate Coeli (traditional Advent chant, a lament for Jerusalem including the verses from Isaiah 40 “Comfort, comfort my people”). It sounded absolutely perfect – and my voice isn’t usually that great. The echo in the building is supposed to be 11 seconds, and gives a deep resonance to the song. There is a beautiful statue of St Anne and her daughter in the back of the church, and I was reminded of my wife and her love and care for our daughters, so I lighted my customary three candles again and prayed for them.

Right next to the Church of St Anne is the Pool of Bethesda (cf. John 5). This site was only rediscovered in the 19th Century, and further excavations in the 1960’s proved that this was beyond doubt the very pool referred to in the Gospel. It still resonates very strongly today as a place of healing, and so our prayers at this site focused on those who we knew in our own families who were in need of healing. There was a very voluble and excitable group of Nigerian Christians singing and dancing and praying in amongst the ruins.

From here, Gila led us along the Via Dolorosa. It was made clear that we would not be doing this as a group devotional exercise, but rather looking at the historical and archeological aspects of the route. Nevertheless several of us took the opportunity to do the walk (in the pouring rain) as a Stations of the Cross walk. There is a particular person for whom I wanted to pray, who is suffering at the moment, so I dedicated the do whole walk to her. At times we had to move fairly quickly to keep up with our guide (and take photos at the same time). The walk ends up at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, coming in from the roof (where there is the 9th station, Jesus falls a third time). Stations 10-14 are inside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (including the place where we had mass this morning – Station 11 – and the anointing stone – Station 13 – and the tomb itself – Station 14), and things got a little complicated inside, so we didn’t finish the walk in proper order. We didn’t go inside the tomb, as the lines were too long (Denis and Lyn went in the next day, waited an hour and had their 20 seconds inside).

But I did get to have a second look at the Church, and compare it to a map of the building that I had downloaded earlier in the day on my iPhone. Now I could clearly see the see the layout of the Church, and I realised that the main nave and sanctuary of the Church is actually opposite the “rotunda” tomb shrine. Interestingly, most tours – including ours – fail to take people into this section, yet it is from here that the whole building takes its shape and purpose. All the other chapels, including the Tomb rotunda, are “add ons”. Also from here, the beautiful and awe-inspiring mosaic of Christ on the dome of the Church can be plainly seen and appreciated. Around the outside of the apse of this central nave are a number of side altars, similar to the layout of St Patrick’s Cathedral back home. Gila also took us down into an underground series of chapels, dedicated to St Helena, Constantine’s mum, who found the pieces of three crosses in a lower cave (which is now a part of the complex). The story goes that they did not know which pieces were the “true cross”, so they “tested” them by touching them to a dying man. The pieces which miraculously revived the man were then hailed as “the true Cross”. It was these pieces of wood that I had venerated at the Church of Sante Croce in Rome on Good Friday in 2009! All good stuff!

From the Holy Sepulchre, we walked into the shopping area nearby to a cafe where we had a chicken kebab for lunch for 45 shekels (about $12). We were walking now along the streets that we covered this morning, and as we were nearing the New Gate and Notre Dame, I noticed an Armenian ceramic arts shop which with the artists inside working. In the windows, among other things, were the most simple but striking little pots in the shape of pomegranates, with a glaze that perfectly reproduced the colour and shade of the fruit. I turned back and went inside to ask about them, and was told that the small ones were 58 shekels, about $15. Even though I am concerned about the luggage allowance on Turkish airlines, I determined to buy one as a gift for Cathy. Since she reads this blog, this means that it will be no secret, but she can look forward to seeing it. It is something that is authentically Jerusalem, bought in the Old City from Armenian Christians. While I was in the shop, the was a young woman with a recorder and a microphone who came up to me and explained that she was a journalist doing a story on the shop, and wanted to know why I had come in. I explained who I was and where we had come from, and praised the work of the artists. She then approached another person in the shop, who was also buying one of these pots, and conducted the same interview again, but in French.

I was a little late back to the Hotel (I received another one of Rosemary’s texts: “David we are leaving at 1:10 for Bethany”), and went up to my room to change my socks (my shoes and socks were sodden from the rain), before going back down again to hop on the bus.

This time we drove out to the other side of the Mount of Olives to the town of Bethany. The drive took about half an hour, but along the way, the valley road which Jesus and his disciples would have taken to reach Bethany was pointed out to us. We were told that this is in fact quite an easy walk, much more direct than the route by road today, and would have taken only about an hour to walk.

Today, Bethany is called (in Arabic) Al-Eizariya or al-Izzariya, which means “the place of Lazarus. Gila took us up to the traditional tomb of Lazarus. This is almost certainly not the real tomb of the Gospel story, but it nevertheless dates from the same period and gives one a very good sense of how the Gospel story would have taken place. The tomb itself is deep underground, and there is a “vestibule” – a room about 2 metres cubed – just above the tomb proper, but still underground. It is said that Jesus would have stood in this inner vestibule when he called Lazarus out the tomb. The steps were quite slippery (one or two the older members had a slip, and I even slid down a step or two as I was descending), and the opening to the tomb itself is quite small. One surmises that the real miracle was that the resurrected man was able to climb out of this small hole while still wrapped in his burial cloths!

The modern Church of St Lazarus is another Barluzzi church, and is just below the place where the tomb is on the stairs above. Above the tomb, next to the Church, is a mosque, known as the al-Uzair Mosque (or Al-Ozair on the sign outside the door) – the name seems to be a reference to Lazarus, but I am not sure of the Arabic (on list of things to do: learn Arabic). While we were waiting to go into the Church, I took the opportunity to go into the mosque and spend a few moments there – it was just on the moment of the mid afternoon prayers. Down in the Church, which is entered through a very nice garden, there was a mass taking place, and we joined in for a short while (it was in Polish). Outside , Gila showed us the remains of the Crusader church on the spot, and the evidence within these remains of the earlier Byzantine church – mainly seen in the form of the mosaic floor tiles still remaining. So, she pointed out, we have three periods in one view: the modern, the Crusader, and the Byzantine. This “layer upon layer” aspect is so common in many of the places we have visited.

From there we returned to Jerusalem to visit the Western Wall of the Temple, where the Jews today pray. They believe that “the presence of God has never left” this part of the Second Temple, all that remains of the temple mount complex in Jesus’ day. There are separate areas for men and women to pray, and I entered the men’s section and approached the Wall to pray. I didn’t have a little piece of paper on which to write my prayer (the usual practice of pilgrims) so I just laid my hand and head against the Wall. It was an intense experience of connection to the history of this place, and I prayed especially for the Jewish Christian Muslim Association and for the relationship of the three religions in this land.

We returned to Notre Dame and gathered together for a time of sharing and discussion on our experiences of the day before dinner. After this, I packed for the morning and did some more writing and uploading of pictures – fast becoming the usual way I end the day. Keeping up with the writing has become difficult, but I hope to keep this travelogue going as long as I can so I do not forget what we are experiencing in these days.

22nd November, 2012
Bethlehem, Herodion and Mt Zion

For all photos for 22nd November, click here to view them on my dropbox site. If you don’t have Dropbox, use this link to sign up and you and I will both get a bonus amount of free storage space.

Again I rose at 5:30am – real time – and finished uploading photos and blogging. Leaving time was 8am, and we were headed for Bethlehem.

We had a new guide for today, Ruby, a Palestinian Catholic. We went to Bethlehem along the Hebron road, heading first to neighbouring Beit Sahour, which is where the “Shepherds Fields” are located (Beit or Bayt Sahour actually means “place of the night watch”). Along the way, we caught our first glimpse of “The Wall”, in this case, a stretch of electrified fencing. We passed a demonstration along the way. The bus passed through the checkpoint without needing to stop (on our way back, we were boarded, but the guards simply walked through and said hullo before exiting out the back door of the bus).

The church at the Shepherds Fields is another one of those by Antonio Barluzzi, the same one who designed the Dominus Flevit and Church of All Nations. There was a mass taking place in there already so we were assigned a “cave” outside the church as our place to serve mass. The roof of the cave over the altar was very low, and Fr Bhin, who was celebrating, had to watch his head. We sang “O come all ye faithful” and “Silent night” during the mass. I tried to encourage the group to sing Richard Connolly’s response to his “Gloria”, but only some were inclined, most complained about it being in Latin, so I ditched the attempt. It would have been nice to sing a full throated “Gloria” in this location. The masses we are celebrating are very nice but I would like to be able sing a bit more. Most of the other pilgrim groups are singing at full voice wherever we go. Why are Australian Catholics so hesitant to raise their voices in song? At least at this mass, Fr Thin led us in singing the Lamb of God. I read the readings – they were those for midnight mass at Christmas. Most of the holy sites have votive masses for the place, which use might use once a year anywhere else. As another of the pilgrims commented, it is as if these places are stuck in a perpetual time warp, liturgically speaking.

Wherever we go, the English lectionary we are provided with is the American one using the NAB – and I now know why so many lf my American friends make such a fuss about it. It is a truly horrible translation. The reading from Isaiah 9, instead of “Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” had “They name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace.” I balked on “God-Hero” and read “Might God” from memory. Then in the Titus 2 passage which reads “waiting for the appearing of the glory of our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ” (thus being one of those passages which, though ambiguous, may indicated the divinity of Christ), the NAB had “of the glory of the great God and of our savior Jesus Christ” removing any possible ambiguity, and the point of having this reading as the Christmas reading. Uh.

Just before the mass began, I received a text from Cathy, which prompted me to offer the mass especially for my family back home. During the intercessions, I prayed for the Jewish Christian Muslim Association, of which I am secretary, and at which exact moment was beginning its AGM back home. I prayed that the good relations between the three religions modelled by JCMA may spread to all the world, and especially to this land which so terribly needs it.

Afterwards, while looking over what once would have been the hills in which the shepherds were keeping watch over their sheep, I texted my daughter to say that I was praying for her. This is one of the great benefits of modern technology that we can stay in touch with our loved ones in such an immediate way while far apart. Later when I got back on the bus, I was talking to our driver, who called the Palestinian territories “The Siege”. It was, he said, like a big gaol – “you can’t leave or enter without someone else’s permission”.

We then went into Bethlehem proper to the Manger square and the Church of the Nativity (there is a mosque prominent on the other side of the square). There was a light sprinkle of rain as we were entering through the “Humility Door”, so called because of its very small size. The entry was once very large, but the Crusaders blocked it up to prevent the riding of horses (friendly or otherwise) into the Church. The present church is built upon an older Constantinian Church, and a clear feature is the columns which were original to the church built by Constantine and the mosaics of the original church under the more recent floor (which are covered by wooden panels which were open for viewing). We went immediately up to the entrance to the “cave” under the main sanctuary. There were not too many people in the church (something that we have noticed while travelling is the reduced number of tourists, probably due to the current national crisis) which meant we did not need to wait long. While waiting, I lighted three candles for my family. The traditional place of Jesus’ birth is marked by a star which can only be reached by bending low over the present covering. Next to it is another small shrine which marks the traditional place where the manger was located. After venerating the place of Jesus’ birth, and having my photo taken at the manger shrine, we went back up to the main church, and into the Catholic church adjoining the Orthodox church next door. Underneath this church is the grotto of St Jerome, who lived in Bethlehem when he was translating the Hebrew and Greek bible into the Latin Vulgate. There is also a shrine to the Holy Innocents down there.

After visiting the Church(es) of the Nativity, we were taken to a local souvenir shop to buy gifts for our friends and families. Unfortunately, most of the olive wood artifacts in this shop were either not the ones I was looking for, or too expensive for me. However, we were assured that only goods bought in Bethlehem were actually made there, so I bought some tiny pieces just so I had something from Bethlehem to bring home. Next to the shop was The Wall – and this time, it was the real McCoy. Huge concrete blocks towering over the shop and down the side lane, right outside residential homes. Our bus driver said to me: “Go down there and take a look”, so I walked down the lane where there were (besides a lot of graffiti on the theme of division and freedom) something called the “Wall Museum”, which consisted of large posters telling the story of Palestinian women’s experiences of the building of the wall and the consequences for their daily lives. It was a little like listening to the personal stories in the Yad Vashem museum. It is so sad that a people who were the victims of a great injustice should themselves be the cause of great injustice towards others.

We had a packed lunch from Notre Dame which we ate on the bus while driving up to the Herodion, the remains of one of Herod the Great’s palaces – and the one where he died and was buried. The palace was built on top of a huge artificial conical shaped mountain. It was only in this century that the palace on top was excavated, revealing quite a complex. In this complex (at least on this level – apparently it went up several floors and down even further into reaches not yet excavated. We went inside the “baths” which sports (for its roof) the oldest dome still standing in the world! The tomb itself no longer exists, but there was a model on the side of the hill on the way up to the top to give us an idea of what it looked like. The mountain fortress was used later by the Jewish rebels in both the 66-70AD war against the Romans, and again by the Bar Kochba rebels 70 years later. The excavations also uncovered a synagogue in the complex – certainly not from Herod’s time (he was not really what you would have called an “observant Jew”), but from the later time when used by the Jewish rebels. It was in fact Herod’s “triclinium”, ie. his dining room. A major feature of the excavations is the cistern water system constructed by Herod for the water supply to his palace, and which were extended further by the Bar Kochba rebels in the (vain) hope of using them to avoid capture by the Romans. We went down into these tunnels deep into the mountain, and came out on the side near where the tomb would have been, and where we could see the remains for Herod’s private theatre (the “home theatre system” of the first century AD!).

On the way back to Jerusalem, we passed the recently excavated foundations of a five sided church, known as the “Kathismos”, the place where Mary traditionally rested on her way to Bethlehem (“Kathismos” means “sitting”). I simply make a note of it here as I want to look up more information on it when I get home. I have found that one of the most fascinating aspects of this trip has been the Byzantine history and churches between the Roman and the Islamic period. That could be another whole study tour…

Also on the way home, we passed by the valley on the outside of the Old City of Jerusalem known as “Gehenna” in Jesus time – “Hell” in most translations of the Gospels. This was used as the municipal dump in the 1st Century, and is associated in tradition as the place where the original pre-Israelite inhabitants of Jerusalem performed the sacrifice of their children to Molech in a fire. Hell does exist, and I have the photos to prove it! I also noted a stairway going down into the valley, and wondered if this might be “the Stairway to Hell”…

A number of my fellow pilgrims wanted to do an evening walk to the Cenacle, that is, to the place where the “Upper Room” was traditionally situated. The original “Upper Room” does not exist anymore, of course, but there is good reason to think that the room which goes by the name of the “Cenaculum” is on the same spot. This location has many points of significance for the Church: it is where Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper, where he appeared to his disciples on Easter Sunday, and where the Holy Spirit was poured out upon the disciples. In so many ways, it is the birthplace of the Church. So it should have been a great big spiritual experience to be there, yes? Well, no, really.

The walk there was fun – I hadn’t been out much in this city yet, and it was good to get my feet on the earth and in the streets. I was using my iPhone GPS with downloaded maps, which worked very well for us to find where we wanted to go. We headed from Notre Dame (near New Gate) down to the Jaffa Gate, along the outside of the walls. Along the way I was approached by one of the Orthodox Jews, who wanted to know where I was from (a blessing was giving) and how many children I had (more blessings) and then how much I was going to give “to the poor of Jerusalem”. Okay, 10 shekels is worth a blessing, I thought (about $3 bucks). I caught up with the rest of the walking group, as we rushed toward our destination – closing time for the Cenacle was 5pm, and it was nearing that time.

We asked for directions several times, and were helpfully put on the right path. The final bloke we asked said, “I will show you – how many in your group?” As soon as he started organising us, I thought, hullo, we’ve gained ourselves a guide and he will want to be paid. I warned the rest, and resolved to give him 10 shekels at the end of our “tour”. “You want to see King David’s tomb?” No, we want to see the Cenacle. “After King David’s tomb?” No, now. “It is closing.” Yes, that is why we ant to go there now. So, he took us up to the room. It is a handsome room, and even though it did not exist in the time of Jesus, you could imagine all the stories happening there. One thing I didn’t expect was to find a michrab in the room (the traditional decorated cavity in the wall of a mosque that faces Mecca). Had this room been used as a mosque? “Yes, until 1948”, said our guide. He took a group photograph of us for us, and then we said thank you and I gave him 10 shekels. But he tried to touch everyone else in the group for 10 shekels each too. That wasn’t on. Some gave him the money just to get rid of him. Afterwards a Jewish gentleman said to me: “How much did you give that man?” 10 Shekels, said I. “Good”, he replied. I didn’t tell him that he got more out of the others.

Well, having been touched for money a couple of times tonight, I thought nothing of the third time. We went down below to the traditional “Tomb of David”, where many Jewish men were praying. I went inside and stood there for a while. This is one site that the archeologists and historians tell us could not possibly be correct, but tradition makes up for a lot, and it was something to be in the place where the people believe my namesake is buried. On the way out – you guessed it – another 10 shekels into the hand of the attending youth.

After this, I thought it would be a relief to get into the Church of the Dormition – built by the same German Kaiser who built the Lutheran Church on the Mount of Olives. This, however, is a Catholic Church (natuerlich) – the Kaiser must have been quite an ecumenical chappy. Down in the Crypt of this church is a representation of the Tomb of the Virgin. It is a very peaceful place, and I decided straight away to light my customary 3 candles for my family. I put my money in the slot and went to pick up the three candles from the table, and some little old bloke was there, a) insisting that I give him money, and b) that I could only have one candle. I told him quite firmly he wasn’t getting any money – I had already put my coin in the box, and that I was lighting three, not one candle. After a bit of a scuffle, I wrenched the three candles out of the box, and lighted them and placed them in the stands, and began to pray. Then the little blighter started blowing my candles out and picking them out of the stand. No, stop that, I argued, and grabbed the candles back and relighted them. Then he started becoming quite vocal. Fr Ian behind me said “David!”, and very reluctantly, I gave up the fight. Fuming (and not at all in a state of mind for prayer, I stormed off around the corner, where I discovered another bank of candles burning. Here again I placed in my coin and lighted another three candles. Unmolested, I completed my prayers for my family, when I noticed a prayer book inviting people to write their petitions down and assuring them that their prayers will be included at Mass the next day. I took the opportunity to ask for prayers for the Jewish Muslim Christian Association of Australia. Let them puzzle that one out, I thought.

Finally then, I walked home with Geoff. The streets were now all lit up, which gave me an opportunity to take some rather nice pictures of Jerusalem at night. When we got back, I settled down out on the terrace to smoke and write up my blog and upload photos. Geoff joined me and shouted me a beer, and we had a long talk about historical matters.

Dinner was at 7pm (not so busy here now, with only one other pilgrimage group in the dining room). Afterwards, I did a little more writing and uploading pictures, before heading to bed at 9pm. We have an early start at Holy Sepulchre at 5:15am…

21st November, 2012
Jerusalem (Day One)

For all photos from today, use this link to my dropbox account. To sign up for Dropbox, use this link: http://db.tt/rvgBYop

I awoke this morning at 5:30 (according to my iPhone clock). We had an early start today to reach the Temple Mount (leaving at 7:15am) so I thought I would stay up and do my travel blog and pictures from yesterday. I had to go down to the lobby to do this, as that is the only place where the Internet connection works. I worked away at it for an hour, and then went upstairs, as 6:30 was our “wake up” time. Fr Peter was still in bed asleep, which I thought strange, and then checked my watch – it was in fact only 5:30am – I had not put my iPhone clock onto Jerusalem time! So, another hour of work on the blog and pictures and finished doing all my work including making my Dropbox pictures available to readers. (By the way, I am probably going to fill up my free allowance on Dropbox on this trip, so if you have not yet signed up for Dropbox, please do so using the link above which will give me an extra 500 MB for everyone who signs up using this link!)

I had packed my back pack the night before, so I used the time after showering to wash my clothes. It was 7:00am by this stage, so I rushed down and had a quick breakfast before boarding the bus.

We went directly around the walls of the old city to the south gate to the Temple Mount, and entered via the scaffolding walkway with the view down to the Western Wall, which was already quite full of people praying. We then entered the Temple precinct itself, where the Al-Aqsa Mosque is on the site of the old southern part of the “Court of the Gentiles”. “Al-Aqsa”, I learned from our guide Gila means “farther”, ie., the mosque that was farther away than the Mecca mosque. A mosque was built here very early in the Islamic period, but then this larger structure was built in 705BC. It has been destroyed by earthquakes many times, so that the main structure viewed today is actually from the Crusader period. I was a bit disappointed to learn that today, due to tensions with the local Jewish population in the past, only Muslims can enter either this Mosque or the
Dome of the Rock (which was built in 691, and is thus older than the Mosque, even though the site of the Mosque was established as a place of prayer earlier than this).

Our guide showed us around the precinct, and explained the details and history. The Dome of the Rock is the most attractive sight on the site, and many people mistake it for a mosque. It actually houses the rock we know as Moriah, on which Abraham was about to sacrifice his son – Isaac in the biblical tradition, but Ishmael according to the Muslims. It is also the place where Mohammed had his “Night Journey” or “Ascension” vision. The two striking features of the Dome are the Dome itself – recently renewed/restored with pure gold by the previous King of Jordan – and the colourful tiles, including inscriptions from the Koran describing the Night Journey. The Dome is near, but not actually on (I think) the place where the Temple proper – the Holy Place and the Holy of Holies – once stood. From here our guide took us down to the Eastern wall, where there is the “Golden” or “Beautiful” Gate. This area has only recently been opened up to tourists, and has, for many centuries, been closed up. It is very closely associated – in all three Abrahamic traditions – with the return of the Messiah and the Resurrection on the Last Day, and very many Jewish tombs dating back to the time of Christ may be found on both sides of the Kidron Valley below the Gate and up the side of the Mount of Olives. It is traditionally believed that the Golden Gate was the gate through which Jesus entered on Palm Sunday, although it is perhaps more likely that he entered by the pilgrim gates on the south side of the Temple precinct.

Gila also pointed out the location of the Roman Praetorium, at the far North-West end of the Temple Precinct, and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre just a bit further around to the West. These two points are connected by the Via Dolorosa, as it is the traditional pathway that Jesus is thought to have taken on his way to his crucifixion. I would have liked to have spent more time on the Mount, but Gila then led us out of the Old City through the Lion Gate (which is actually decorated with leopards, not lions). The bus then picked us up and took us back up to the Mount of Olives lookout where we were last night, this time for a day time view. Now I had seen many pictures of this view, but a few things struck me today. First, the Kidron Valley is really very deep between the Mount of Olives and the Temple Mount. Second, the Temple Mount really covers a vast area, especially in comparison with the “City of David” on the southern slope and the whole Old City itself. And then there is a feature that I knew about, but wasn’t quite prepared for, which is the sheer vastness of the Jewish burial grounds in this region. There are a few areas that are still fairly “gardenish”, and that – the Garden of Gethsemane – would be our final port of call on this wander.

But first, we walked down the hill a short way to the Church “Dominus Flevit”. The name simply means “The Lord Wept” and I had been looking forward to visiting this iconic location. The church was designed by an Italian Franciscan and architect Antonio Barluzzi (d. 1960), who has a prolific record of church building in the Holy Land, including the Church of All nations at the Gethsemane site, the Church of the Transfiguration on Mount Tabor, and the Church of the Angels in the Shepherds Fields where we are going tomorrow. Most of you will have seen photos of the Temple Mount taken through the main East window of this church. It commemorates the occasion when Jesus wept over Jerusalem. Unfortunately, due to a mix up in bookings, we were not able to celebrate Mass in the Church, but had to make do with the outdoor altar a little up the slope on the side of the Church. I didn’t mind, as I was able to see and contemplate the view of Jerusalem and the location all around us as mass was celebrated.

A little side issue: you may recall the kerfuffle made over the Good Friday prayers back at the time of the promulgation of Summorum Pontificum, with regard to its language about the Jews. Well, the collect for the Votive Mass of Dominus Flevit, which we celebrated, has a line in it about the “blindness of the Jews” which makes the traditional Good Friday prayer pale into insignificance. Obviously this has not been widely publicised, and, of course, this mass is restricted to being said on this location (whereas the Good Friday prayer is universal, even if constricted to use on one day each year, and even then by those communities which use the Extraordinary Form for all services). I intend to see what can be done about revising this prayer, as I see little reason why such a reference needs to be included in this collect.

After the mass, we then walked down to the Gethsemane site and the Church of All Nations, so called because many nations around the world contributed to its construction. Even Australia gets a guernsey here. Inside the Church is a large flattish square rock in front of the altar, said to be the rock on which Jesus prayed his prayer to the Father “Not my will, but thine be done”. Of course, this is purely traditional – the rock, though prominent in the traditional iconography, is not mentioned in scripture. There is an iron wrought “crown of thorns” surrounding the whole rock, and according to the documentation outside the Church, this was a donation from the Australian Church. A mass was just finishing in the Church, so I and the other pilgrims took the opportunity to approach this rock and pray touching it. The story of the Jesus’ prayer in the garden has always touched me when I have prayed it as a mystery of the Rosary, because in my own life (as also in yours, I am sure), temptation and resistance to God’s will has been a marked feature. This is one visit that will shape my prayer for the rest of my life.

Outside the church, in a smallish garden, are some of the oldest olive trees in Israel – some as old as 900 years. These trees then were not the same ones that surrounded Jesus in his prayer, but they are certainly very old. What struck me is that Luke says that Jesus withdrew a “stone’s throw” from the disciples in the Garden, and the rock inside the Church is certainly a “stone’s throw” from these old trees. None of that proves the location, of course, but it does put everything to scale, and it is very easy to imagine the disciples sleeping under these trees (or ones like them) while Jesus was nearby praying in earnest.

After this visit, we boarded the bus and were taken to a kibbutz nearby named after Rachel – because the traditional Rachel’s tomb is nearby. Actually it was a very modern and large facility including a shopping area and a buffet dining lounge which is very popular with tour groups. Here we had lunch, a meal of salads and bread washed down with some local lager.

We then reboarded the bus and went to the Israel Museum where there are two attractions we especially visited: a one fiftieth scale model of the old city of Jerusalem as it was in the time of the Roman occupation (ie., Jesus’ time) and the Shrine of the Book (built to house fragments of the Dead Sea Scrolls). -The model of Jerusalem is a very helpful tool to imagining the city in the time of Jesus. The scale model of the Temple of King Herod is an especial attraction, and was useful to compare to the actual site that we had visited earlier in the day.

In the Shrine of the Book, there are a number of actual fragments of the Dead Sea Scrolls, including in particular a large section of the Isaiah scroll. The full scroll is not on display, but a copy of it features in the scroll like display in the centre of the Shrine (originally this was designed for the real thing, but that proved too fragile for display and so a copy is in its place). But there were also many other scroll sections relating to the life of the community at Qumran, and other apocryphal writings. I was especially fascinated to see on display the “Aleppo Codex”, which was the oldest manuscript of the Hebrew Scriptures in existence prior to the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls. This codex (ie. bound book) is dated to the 10th Century AD – and so a time gap of more than 1000 years separates the Scrolls from the Codex. The Codex is also notable in using “pointing”, ie. the vowel system developed in the 6th Century, long after the Scrolls were written.

After this it was back on the bus for the last destination of the day – the Yad Vadshem Holocaust memorial and museum. We had only an hour and a half at this location – no where near enough to give it the attention it deserves. As museums go, this is a very good one, with clear multi-media displays and relics of the Shoah. Central to the displays are the video recordings of Holocaust survivors telling their personal stories – part of the Spielberg project funded by the profits of the film “Schindler’s List”. The Holocaust Museum in Melbourne is very much involved in this project – I have visited the offices were it is being pursued. I found the notorious Pius XII display, which has, thankfully, recently been updated to be a little more balanced in its judgement of the war-time pontiff. I also wanted to spend some time in the surrounding gardens, looking at the various sculptures and memorial to the Holocaust victims. One of the most striking of these is the Children’s Memorial, constructed indoors in a darkened room with many mirrors all around, including above and below. A single candle burns in the centre of the room, but is reflected millions of times resulting in a “milky way” of star points. The names and ages of known child-victims of the Holocaust are read by a recorded voice.

While wandering the gardens, my phone went off and I found a message “We are leaving”. The time had gotten away with me. So I raced back to the entrance to find everyone waiting on the bus. We returned to the Notre Dame Centre, where we had an hour for a group “debrief” on the day’s events and visits. Then we had dinner at 7pm, and a group went off for a night-time walk to the Western Wall. I declined this walk because I wanted to complete this entry and to upload pictures, but also because I am tired and need to have a reasonably early night. I have been sitting outside in the courtyard smoking my pipe while I worked, but it became a little chilly, and am now completing my writing in the foyer. Photo uploading is very slow here, it takes about 30 seconds to upload a 1MB picture, so you may have to be patient on the picture side of things. Not all of them will be in the Dropbox folder yet

Okay, this is a bit of an experiment. I have been uploading my photos to my Dropbox account, and I think I can give public links to this folder. You may need to sign up for Dropbox to use this system. If you do, can I encourage you, as I encourage all my readers, to sign up using the following link to Dropbox: http://db.tt/rvgBYop

Doing this will give you an extra 500MB free space on Dropbox, and add an equal amount to my free Dropbox account, so we both win.

Okay, here are the links to my pictures. Tell me if they work, or not…

For all pictures on the trip up to and including the 18th of November, 2012.

For all pictures on the trip taken at Petra on the 19th of November, 2012.

For all pictures on the trip taken yesterday, click here.

In the future, I will add these links to the travel diary posts to which the picture folder relates. But usually uploading takes a bit longer than writing up the story, so you will need to go back and check past posts to see the link to the pictures at the top of the story. For an example, go the the post below on yesterday’s trip, or the one about Petra below that, or the one on the trip so far below that, and you will see I have added the photos links to the top of the blog.

I hope this is useful. I won’t be giving alerts when I have added photo links, just check them out yourself.

And don’t forget – sign up using this link: http://db.tt/rvgBYop

Tuesday, 20th November, 2012
Petra to Jerusalem

For all photos from today, use this link to my dropbox account. To sign up for Dropbox, use this link: http://db.tt/rvgBYop

“And now our feet are standing within your gates, O Jerusalem!”

And indeed they are. We have landed at the Notre Dame of Jerusalem Centre, and it is about 8:45pm. We have been to the 6:30pm English Mass in the chapel, and had dinner, and now are preparing to get a good night’s sleep before an early rise in the morning.

It has been quite a day. The only “attraction” we have visited today was “Qumran” (more of that in a moment), but getting into Israel was the main event of the day.

I was awake by 5pm, and, not being able to sleep, went to the lobby to keep working at uploading photographs. By 6:30am, breakfast was on the go, so after eating (and drinking several cups of tea – they had teapots with canisters of tea for you to mix and make your own!), I went up to finish packing. We left at 9am. I had taken out my map of Jordan, and, using my iPhone compass, checked our direction: North. North? Were we not going south to Aqaba today? Maybe the bus driver was going by a different route and we would soon be turning around.

“I wonder if any of you have noticed that we are not heading south?” Fadi asked after a few minutes. Yes, I had noticed. “Well, we have been told that the border crossing at Aqaba into Israel has been closed, so we are heading north again to cross at the King Hussein Bridge at the North end of the Dead Sea.” So we headed back up the Kings Highway and the major North-South highway on which we had come down to Petra, back to Amman, and back down the road we had taken to the Baptismal Site and Mt Nebo two days earlier. We made one stop on the way, at about 11am, where I had a cup of Arabic coffee and a pipe, spending the last of my Jordanian dollars (I have a coin or two left for souvenirs).

Otherwise it was an uneventful journey. The best part was listening to Fadi give us information about the area and the history of Jordan. He showed me the manuscript of the book he is writing, which appears to be quite a labour of love. As it turns out, it is in English (we had a discussion together last night whether it would be English or Arabic), and he actually offered it to me for proof reading. I think I will take him up on this offer.

As it turned out, I should have taken the opportunity to have a bite to eat at our stop, because we never did get any lunch. We arrived at the border crossing – which is something like a country bus terminal but more heavily armed – at about 1pm, and then began the wait. Fadi took our passports and went off to organise our departure permits, and we sat on the bus. At about half past 1, I decided to curl up on my seat (there was a vacant placed next to me) and catch some shut-eye. Mum used to say that I was like a cat, being able to go to sleep just about anywhere. I woke just after 2pm when Fadi returned with our passports and departure slips. We said farewell to him, and our driver took us on to the crossing. We passed through the gate to the Bridge, officially leaving Jordan and entering into what once must have been a no mans land. Our Israeli guide told me later that the area around this crossing was once very heavily mined by both sides, and there was evidence of old artillery bunkers on the side of the road.

We crossed the King Hussein Bridge over a rather miserable looking Jordan River at just about the same point that Joshua would have led the people of Israel across. Honestly, if the river had been this small and sluggish in the time of that crossing, it wouldn’t have taken a miracle to stop the flow of water. In fact, all it would have taken is for them to throw a few of the local stones into the river and they could have walked across on that.

At the other end, we passed through another guarded gate and then into a much bigger terminal on the Israeli side (like a country airport), the arrival point in Israel. We disembarked from our bus, got our luggage and then proceeded to the customs point. There were perhaps only one or two other busloads of people seeking to enter at the same time as us. I had the impression that this was one of the less busy entry points into Israel. We had put our watches back one hour with the time difference between Jordan and Israel (we are now 9 hours behind Australia and will remain so for the rest of the journey), so it was now about 1:30pm, and proceeded to the first desk manned by a rather attractive young Israeli woman.

Rosemary and several others of the pilgrims went through before me without any fuss, and little more than a cursory glance at the passports. I approached the glass screen, handed over my passport. She took it. Looked at it. Looked at me. And kept looking at me. Then the interrogation began:

“State your full name.” Despite being tired and hungry, I got that one right.

“Why are you visiting Israel?” I am on a study tour.

“Studying what?” The Bible lands.

“Whose bible? OUR bible?” (Think quick). Yes. (Right answer).

“Why do you want to do this?” (Interfaith dialogue was probably NOT the right answer). I’m a theologian (I hoped that the next thing she asked for was not a copy of my PhD thesis).

“Are you alone?” No, I’m with this group here.

This was followed by a long pause, during which there was more looking at me. “What is this hat you are wearing? Our military wear hats like these.” (Aha. This was the problem). It’s a beret. I wear a beret. I’ve always worn a beret.

Another pause and more intense scrutiny.

“How are you?” What? (Wasn’t this normally where a conversation started? Was this a trick question?)

“How are you?” Um, tired. And hungry.

Another long pause + scrutiny.

“Have a good stay in Israel.”

And with that she handed me back my passport and sent me on inside the terminal. I have heard many stories about tricky border crossings into Israel, and this was indeed mild by comparison, but still… I’m glad I didn’t decide to wear the Jordanian headscarf I bought yesterday…

At the very last check point the man at the counter looked at my passport (now more than five years old) looked at me, sort of screwed up his face and looked at my passport again, with a sort of question on his face. “Yes,” I said, “I have grown my moustache since then.” He smiled and handed the passport back to me and I was through into Israel. Rosemary had said to us all not to do anything to attract attention to ourselves at the crossing. How was I to know that my trademark beret and moustache would cause such excitement?

Well, by this time it was about 2:40pm Israel time and we met up with our Israeli guide, an American-born Jewish woman, now a citizen of Israel, named Gila. She pointed out to us the immediate difficulty: If we hightailed it onto the bus straight away, we could get to nearby Qumran before it closed at 3pm. However, if we stopped for lunch, we would miss this opportunity. The vote was unanimous: we headed for the bus. We were just about to start handing over our luggage, when a siren went off. At first I thought it might be a vehicle siren, but then it became clear it was a warning siren. Folk came running from several directions telling us to turn around and head back inside the terminal. We were not exactly sure what was going on, but after a short wait, the siren ended, and soon after that we were allowed back out and onto the bus. Most of us thought that it was probably some kind of drill (it had the feel of a fire-drill at the Cardinal Knox Centre) but I overheard Gila telling Rosemary afterward that it was quite serious. Apparently it was a rocket launch alert and, although the rocket would have been aimed at Jerusalem, the firepower of these things is never enough to make it there, and often goes either short or awry, so everyone within cooee is put on alert. “I will show you the safe room at your hotel”, she said. Really? The way Notre Dame is built (solid stone) I have the impression that the whole building is a “safe room”!

We made it to Qumran just before closing, passing by the North end of the Dead Sea. We could see how far the shore line of the sea had decreased in the last fifty years or so – more than 80 feet lower according to Gila due to using the Jordan for irrigation and water supply on both sides. There was an old ruined hotel about a kilometre from thee water, which once used to be right on the edge.

Qumran is a simple place to visit, but well worth it, and easily accessible. It is on the Western side of the steep hills around the Red Se, and affords a nice view of Mt Nebo on the other side. I know that the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls has spawned an enormous scholarly industry, but it has also created quite a bit of profit for the tourism industry. There is a large tourist centre built right next to the site where the Jewish Essene monastic community had their centre. The excavated ruins are well marked out with a walkway through the site, leading past the large ritual bath cisterns and pools, and then on the other side to a place where “Cave No. 4” can be viewed easily. This is the cave where the most controversial scrolls were found (and jealously guarded by two or three individual academics until the 1990s), but that discovery only came some time after the excavation on the Essene commune was well under way. This cave was probably the “rare book room” for the community’s library, whereas the other caves, the earlier ones famously discovered by the Bedouin shepherd boy, was further to the north in a hidden crevice. These latter were probably put there by the Essenes for safe keeping at the time when the Roman army of Vespasian invaded Judah about 35 years after Jesus’ ministry. It was in one of those caves that a full copy of the book of Isaiah was found, dated to about 200BC, and hence more than 1000 years older than any other copy of Isaiah previously known.

We were back on the bus at 4:10pm and headed off to Jerusalem, on what our guide called “the steepest ascent on earth”. And indeed you did have this experience of “popping ears” due to the change in air pressure as we ascended the mountain of the Lord! We arrived in Jerusalem just after sunset and in the middle of peak hour. On the way in we could see the tower of the Russian Church on the Mount of Olives against the skyline and then came around a corner and caught the first glimpse of the Dome of the Rock. We were taken directly up to the top of the Mount of Olives (via Mt Scopus, passing the Hebrew University, the Lutheran Church of the Ascension and an old mosque from the crusader period built upon the foundation of a Constantinian Church), from where we were able to view Jerusalem. The Temple Mount area spread before us dominating the view. The guide told us that the temple of Herod was at least twice the height of the Dome of the Rock, and thus it must have been a most imposing presence in the city. Below us was the Church of Dominus Flevit where we will celebrate mass in a few days time, and the large ancient Jewish burial ground (which means that even in Jewish tradition, the Mount of Olives is regarded as the spot where the Resurrection will take place).

It was very cool, so after taking photos, we headed off to the Notre Dame Centre. This is not a conventional hotel, but a Catholic pilgrimage hostel, although on quite a luxurious scale. I understand it was built for a large pilgrimage of French Catholics back at the end of the 19th Century, but has only recently been fully restored as a pilgrimage centre. Fr Peter and I are sharing rooms again, smaller than the rooms from our previous hotels (no bath…), but by this stage bed is looking very inviting.

Monday, 19th November, 2012
Petra

For all pictures on the trip taken at Petra on the 19th of November, 2012. To sign up for Dropbox, use this link: http://db.tt/rvgBYop

Today had one agenda: a walking tour of the ancient Nabataean city of Petra.

Petra is indeed one of the wonders of the world. There is nothing else like it. Describing it would take many pages and more time than I have this evening. I took over 500 pictures and a good many videos today, trying in vain to capture a visual sense of the place.

What is Petra? The name says it all: Rock. A city carved into and built upon rock – in a grand – nay, immense – scale. The Nabataean people – an ancient Arabian civilization – began it about 300 years before the birth of Christ, and it continued to flourish as a centre of trade and government under the Romans, and then the Byzantines, before fading as a centre during the Islamic period. The Crusaders where there and knew of it, but after that the West forgot about its existence, until it was “rediscovered” by a Swiss explorer in 1812. Since then it has been extensively excavated, and the excavations are continuing today, especially in those sections of the city built out of, rather than into, the rock. For more information and pictures: Google it.

Despite being a flourishing and major city in the time of Jesus, the bible does not mention Petra at all by name, but has significance nonetheless. It is in the biblical territory of Edom, and had political clout at the time of Jesus, defeating an army of Herod Antipas soon after he beheaded John the Baptist (and related to the fact that he had married his brother’s wife – after divorcing the daughter of the governor of Petra – Josephus says that soldiers in Herod’s army saw the defeat as God’s punishment for executing the Baptist). Possibly Paul visited Petra during his time in Arabia after his conversion (the Roman “Province of Arabia” – which Luke probably means when he says that this is where Paul went – was centred on Petra).

We left the hotel at 9am this morning on foot (the Moevenpick is right at the entrance of the Petra Reserve) and arrived back at 5pm. We must have covered somewhere between 8 and 10 kms all up, so we are a bit footsore tonight. The entrance is through the Wadi Musa (Valley of Moses). If you have ever visited Standley Chasm in Central Australia, imagine this, about a kilometre or more long, and paved with ancient stones (or concrete as much of it is today). At the end, you come to the most famous monument in the city, the “Treasury” (actually it was a tomb, not a treasury, but the locals thought for many years that this was where the Pharaoh hid his treasure). From there, you enter into the city proper, which is in a large open area beyond this, although there are many other tombs like the “Treasury”, many larger, but not as well preserved. A notable feature is an entire theatre carved into the rock face.

In the city itself are two major temples. The one furthest down at the other end of the city is a structure still largely intact, very much on the same layout as Herod’s temple in Jerusalem. It has a large outside altar area and an inner “holy of holies” where the statue of the local god was housed. In the centre of the city is another temple recently excavated from the hills, which is best appreciated in design by climbing the opposite hillside. On this opposite hill is the ruin of a Byzantine Christian complex, including a well sized church with many intact and intricate mosaics (now covered by a modern roof protection) and a baptistery. The complex also includes the smaller “blue chapel” higher up the hill, with four striking columns in a bluish granite from Egypt, and the bishop’s residential area. Yes, Petra was the seat of a bishop, and the records show that the bishop attended the major councils of Nicea and Constantinople. Still today, the bishop of Amman is named “Bishop of Philadelphia (Amman) and Petra”, so it is not a “vacant” see.

Worth a close investigation (after a climb up a number of steps) is the ancient and spacious Nabataean tomb carved into the rock face which was used as the Cathedral of Petra during the Byzantine period. The ruins of the Crusader fortress is on top of a high rock at the farthest end of the city (accessible, but I didn’t go there), and on a much higher rock again there is evidence of a settlement from about 800 BC, ie. in the period of the Kings of Judea and Israel. Visible from the city is the mountain known in the bible as “Mount Hor”, on which Aaron is said to have been buried (this is a day trip in itself and a strenuous climb).

Our guide, Fadi, gave us a detailed tour of the city and its features until 2pm, after which he left us to explore for ourselves. We had lunch (sandwiches of flat bread, vegetables and fruit) at a kiosk. At about 3pm I had to stop myself and slow down a bit – I had been running excitedly up and over every possible site taking pictures. So I sat in the old church, plugged myself into the Divine Office app on my iphone and said/listened to afternoon prayer. Within the “cathedral” we enjoyed the marvellous acoustics by singing liturgical songs that came to mind, Alleluias, Kyries, and a Pater Noster. Outside the cathedral tomb, I bought an Arab head covering from a Bedouin, in the red and white Jordanian colours. I stuffed my deerstalker in my pocket, and he fitted me up with this new addition to my hat collection. It was very comfortable to wear, keeping the sun off and also providing some neck protection from the cool wind that picked up in the afternoon.

Fr Bernie, Versi and I were among the last tourists to leave the city, and sat at the coffee house at the “Treasury”, where I smoke a pipe and we drank the sweet, thick local coffee made with cardamom. By this stage, the square was quiet and almost deserted. It felt like an incredible privilege just to be there. Walking back up the chasm to the entrance, we were passed by the Bedouins on their horses, donkeys, camels and carriages (used to give rides to the tourists) returning home to their residential village on the hill just above the city (they used to live in the city itself until they were relocated in 1985). These people make their living out of the tourists to Petra, providing rides and selling souvenirs.

Back at our luxury resort, I had a swim in the pool (cold) and sat for a while in the steam room, before dressing for dinner. We had mass in a meeting room upstairs, before going down for our evening meal.

Tomorrow we will head down south to Aqaba on the gulf, where we will cross (on foot!) into Israel. We will then head up to the Dead Sea (for a swim – or float as the case may be), and then to Jerusalem.

There have continued to be a series of noisy demonstrations in the streets of Wadi Musa over the last twenty four hours. We saw these when we entered last night. Fadi told us that these were in fact “anti-riot” demonstrations, locals protesting at the violence that has affected some Jordanian centres in the last few days. These demonstrations, like the one I saw in Amman, take the form of the protesters driving their cars in long lines through the streets honking their horns. Noisy, yes, but “peaceful” nevertheless. We received a report from another tour group who visited Jericho yesterday that it is quite safe, so keep up those prayers.

As I was sitting in the ruined church today, I was struck that the psalms for the afternoon hour were 126, 127 and 128 – psalms that I had read together with my family before leaving for this pilgrimage. They are “psalms of ascent”, originally written for pilgrims going up to the temple in Jerusalem. The hymn for the office was “Christ, in whose passion once was sown”, which ended with the words “called by the Lord to keep one feast, journey to one Jerusalem.” That’s what I will be doing tomorrow.

Sunday, 18th November, 2012
Amman, Bethany Beyond the Jordan, Mt Nebo, Madaba.

For all pictures on the trip up to and including the 18th of November, 2012. To sign up for Dropbox, use this link: http://db.tt/rvgBYop

It was an early start, leaving at 7:30am. Peter was awake already when I woke at 5:30am, and given that we were getting a wake up call at 6am, it didn’t seem worthwhile going back to sleep. We packed, had breakfast and boarded the bus, heading west toward the Jordan.

The wind had calmed down, but there was still plenty of dust in the air. It was a cloudy day, not too warm, very pleasant for outdoor walking.

We were driven down to the North end of the Dead Sea on the Jordan side (the East Bank). The descent down caused a change in air pressure which could be seen to physically collapse empty drink bottles. The area through which we drove was often utterly barren. We entered the “Baptism site”, and paused at a mosaic of Elijah being taken up in the chariot. In the distance, across the other side of the Jordan, was a large city. The spot where we had paused, less than a couple of kilometres from the Baptism site, was the spot traditionally associated with Elijah’s assumption. The city in the distance was Jericho. “Take a good look,” Rosemary said, “we might not get any closer” (referring to the unrest in that part of the land).

There is a connection between Elijah, Jericho and the Baptism of St John, of course.
1) John, Jesus said, was “Elijah”, heralding the coming of the Messiah. (The mode of John’s diet and dress described in the gospels is intended to strengthen this connection)
2) Jericho was, of course, a reminder that it was in this region where Joshua led the children of Israel across the Jordan to the Promised Land.
3) The Jordan crossing was reminiscent of the Red Sea crossing, and indeed in one sense completes it, and calls to mind the same symbolism of liberation from slavery and entry into the promised inheritance.
4) Add this to John’s baptismal ministry, and you see how he heralds the coming of the Messiah by engaging in a “water crossing” from slavery to sin to liberation in Jeshua the Messiah.
Neat, eh? And geographically it all comes together in this place.

And it is quite a place too. One of my fellow pilgrims said “Yesterday (Jerash) was good, but this is better”. I don’t know if I would say “better” is quite the right word, but for all the splendour of Jerash, there is an overwhelming wondrous atmosphere at Bethany beyond the Jordan. For a start, the walk down to the River reminded me of walking through the bush in of some parts of the Mallee where I grew up: stony, dry, rubbly soil, and short shrubby trees (tamarinds, according to one pilgrim). Then there was the deep quiet of the place. In other circumstances, I would have described the silence as “dead”, but here, it was anything but. Later, when sitting down by the river, I had the sense that I could just sit here all day without moving or becoming bored. Then there was a smell in the air which reminded me of a mix between the smell of the ocean and the smell of a chook shed. It was a warm, comforting kind of smell. The whole effect was one of stillness and peace.

We walked past the Greek Orthodox Church you will see on all the postcards (appropriately named the Church of St John the Baptist), down to a lookout over the river. “River” is a generous word for what is left of the Jordan today, even by Australian standards. It is about 10 to 15 metres across from side to side, and the flow is very gentle. And yes, one can have some sympathy with Namman the Syrian – it is muddy. Fadi told us that it would once the water level would have been much higher, but that irrigation and damming had taken a lot of water out of the Jordan, to such an extent that the lack of flow may threaten the future of the Dead Sea.

From there we walked around to the archeological site, which has recently unearthed a Church and sunken shrine with steps going down to it from the Church. The design of this complex fits exactly with the descriptions of the site from early accounts going back to the 4th Century, in which the cross-shaped shrine was said to mark the exact point of the baptism itself. Today, there is no water in the spot, but it easy to imagine that there would be, were the river level to be a bit higher. Here, Fr Bhin read the Gospel of Jesus’ baptism by John, and, in my private prayers, I once again renewed my vows by renouncing Satan and all his works and all his ways, and reciting the Apostles’ Creed.

Walking on a little further, we came to the point at the river opposite the West Bank site on the Israeli side. Here the peace was somewhat marred by a guide speaking in Hebrew on the other side through a loud-hailer…but in actual fact the place lost none of its spiritual power. Here there were wooden steps leading down into the water, where we could take off our shoes and wade in, or scoop up handfuls of water to touch to our foreheads. I could happily have sat here for hours.

But we went back, calling in to look at the Church of St John on the way. Next stop: Mt Nebo, the site of the burial of Moses. This involved a long winding climb in the bus up the barren hills to the south of the Baptismal site on the way to Madaba (Arab name is Slyagha). The air was becoming increasingly misty with dust, and by the time we arrived at the look out, we could not even see the Jordan, let alone the land of Israel! We just had to take it on trust that it was out there. We celebrated mass here (Mass of St Moses!) in one of the chapels. The Chapel was not a pretty place, more or less a room with benches for the pilgrims, an altar on one side of the front of the room and a curtained vestry and cupboard of vestments sharing the other corner. A lot of work is currently being done building a massive steel basilica style covering over the old Church on the top of Nebo. This will be very impressive when complete. I didn’t see any Muslim or Jewish pilgrims there when we were there, but Fadi assures me that “on the weekend”(ie. NOT Sunday) there are quite a few non-Christian pilgrims. There is a three-trunked olive tree in the complex which was planted by John Paul II when he visited there, intended to sympolise cooperation between the three faiths.

We had sandwiches and packed lunch at a gift shop on the way to Madaba, a town known for its Roman and Byzantine mosaic floors. The big attraction here is the small section (30 square metres out of an original 100) of the oldest map of the holy land in existence, a mosaic floor map in the Greek Orthodox church of St George. Much could be said about this remarkable piece – google it to see pictures. Madaba was a fairly deserted village until about 140 years ago when some Christian refugees received permission from the Ottoman rulers to establish it as a town again, and to build churches. The Sultan gave his permission, but they were only allowed to build where there had previously been a Christian church. Hence St Georges was built on top of the old Byzantine pilgrim church in which the floor map existed. We also went to the current Cathedral church of Madaba, the Church of the Beheading of St John the Baptist, built upon the ruins of an earlier byzantine church, with an extensive underground tunnel and crypt system. This includes an ancient Moabite well deep underground. We saw several other old church ruins, now covered over to protect the intricate mosaic floors which are really in excellent condition. I would upload pictures, but at this point that is proving a little difficult. Again, just google Madaba and mosaics and you will get the idea.

At the Cathedral, a funeral was just ending (yes, on a Sunday – it is a work day in Jordan). They have a custom here at funerals to serve all guests a kind of aniseed infused wheat mixed with raw sugar, and they shared this special treat with us. It might seem a strange way to “mourn”, but it was explained to us that a funeral is a celebration of the resurrection, and therefore a moment of joy, not sadness. I wonder if the wheat desert is not in some way a reflection upon the saying of Jesus about a grain of wheat falling into the ground…

We couldn’t get to one town today because there was some unrest in the area. So after the Cathedral, we went began the long drive south to Petra, where I am currently writing this in the lobby of the Moevenpick Resort, a very, very nice hotel with good cheap internet connections. I have just managed to speak to my parents (who were up early on Monday morning) on Skype and hope to catch up with my family later in the evening.

We drove here along the main north south highway in Jordan. The countryside around us was mainly desert, with very sparse settlement. Unfortunately, it was dark as we were climbing up into the mountains where Petra is located in the town of Wadi Musa (the Valley of Moses). It rained along the way, some of the first rains for the season (although Wadi Musa had some flash flooding last week).

Looking back on today, we had encounters with Elijah, John the Baptist, and Moses. I don’t think we can get to the mount of the Transfiguration north of Galilee because of the Syrian situation, but being near to the wilderness in which these three prophets were active is something.

We are concerned about the current situation in Israel/Palestine on two counts. First we may not be able to visit Bethlehem and Jericho. I told Fr Tony that I would be very disappointed to miss out on this, to which he replied that he would be very annoyed. But in the end, we will take the advice of the local guides and take no unnecessary risks. The other concern is at the other end – Tel Aviv is our planned departure point for Turkey in a week or so. But we are in God’s hands, and the hands of our tour leaders, and I trust both!

For all photos for 16th and 17th November, click here to view them on my dropbox site. If you don’t have Dropbox, use this link to sign up and you and I will both get a bonus amount of free storage space.

I am finally connected to the internet in Jordan – it is just after midnight on the morning of Sunday 18th November here, and I am going to upload my notes from the last few days. Stick with me guys, and be patient! We are heading to Mt Nebo and then down to Petra tomorrow, so I don’t know what the situation with the internet connections will be down there. Also, things are not looking good for Bethlehem and Jericho visits due to the local “situation” – again, keep us in your prayers!

CTC Bible Lands Study Tour Travel Diary

2pm 16th November, 2012, Amman, Jordan

I have just lit up my pipe in the lobby of the Regency Palace, Amman. Pure tobacco for the first time in about four months. $3 a packet at Dubai, duty free. Luxury.

A curious thing. When I first travelled overseas in Turkey, it was following in the footsteps of Pope Benedict XVI. When we arrived at the hotel, we noticed in the display cabinet pictures and menus recording the fact that both John Paul II (in 2000) and Benedict XVI (in 2009) were received here for their reception luncheons. So it seems that once again, I am travelling “in the footsteps of the Pope”!

We are meeting for Mass at 6pm this evening before drinks and dinner. A sensible person would get some sleep, after the 20 flight and additional hours before and after in the airport. According to the clock, we left last night on Emirates at 10:45 from Melbourne, and arrived here in Jordan at 10:30 in the morning. But, flying west, we effectively extended our night by 8 hours – it was dawn when we changed planes at Dubai. I did get a little sleep on the plane, but also watched a couple of movies recommended by my daughters: Brave and Madagascar 3.

Our tour group was travelling together, so I was seated next to Fr Ian of the Laverton parish on the flight from Melbourne to Dubai, but I also had the opportunity of meeting other interesting people travelling along with us.

In Melbourne, before we left, I found an electrical outlet to plug in my iphone to get it charged up for the journey. A young woman came and sat on the floor next to me and asked if she could share the other outlet for the same purpose. We fell into conversation, and it turns out that she was quite a globetrotter, spending every holiday at some new overseas destination, sometimes living for whole years in other locations such as China or South America. This time she was off for a year’s “deployment” as an OzAid worker in Kenya. My daughter, of late, has been speaking of her dreams of travelling and working overseas (specifically in England) when she is old enough, and I could see a bit of her in this young woman.

On the plane, the spare seat next to Fr Ian and I was taken by a young Muslim woman from Abu Dubai, travelling home after 9 months in Melbourne studying IT at Monash University. Her English was flawless, and so we had many conversations during the journey about cultural and religious matters. The plane had power connections for recharging the phone and tablet, so no worries there.

Then, on the shorter final leg to Jordan, I sat next to a young man of Dutch origin who had lived in Indonesia since he was 5 years old when his parents shifted there for business. He is now the pastor of a Pentecostal church in Jakarta (“The Church of God”) and was leading a tour group of 35 of his church members on a 9 day pilgrimage in the Holy Land. We talked of Scripture and tradition, the Book of Revelation, the Anti-Christ and the Rapture. I had fun. He was rather nervous, because there was some mix up with the time. It seems that Jordan is on Daylight Savings time and the local time was actually an hour later than he thought. He had only an hour and a half to get his tour group off the plane when it landed to the border crossing into Israel before it closed for the Sabbath.
There was the usual mess around with customs when we arrived, but we were met by our guide and the transfer bus and brought into Amman. It is mild here, but windy and there is a fair bit of dust about. On the road here, we did spy some riot police standing in a line along a street, but we have no idea why they were there. We had a security guard with us on the bus. It seems this is fairly normal.

The room is very comfortable. It had a bath in it, so I washed myself and then my clothes, had a glass of duty free whisky, plugged in all the electronics. The wifi here is about $8 an hour, so I elected just to write up my diary – I will post it later when I can find a cheaper alternative. Cathy had left a voicemail message for me so I phoned home and had a conversation with the whole family (about $7 for ten or twelve minutes on the TravelSIM phone).

Amman is a big city, but still developing. Although it is an area that has been settled since about 7000BC, it really was only just a village in the 19th Century. Once it was established as the capital of the new Kingdom however, it started growing exponentially. It is now about 2 million, and is expected to grow to 6 million by 2025. Beside a few high rise buildings, most of the buildings appear relatively new and built of the pale cream coloured stone in a fairly “cubist” architecture. Flying here from Dubai over the Arabian Desert, the first signs of inhabitation were the crop circles where irrigation was being used. It looked like some kind of abstract green art on the background of the sand. Then homesteads/complexes started to appear – cubic houses surrounded by orchards and gardens within a perimeter wall.

I have determined that one thing I will do while in this part of the world is learn the Arab alphabet and practice identifying letters and words. Arabic has many words that are similar to Hebrew. I would like to learn the language properly one day, but starting with the letters seems an achievable goal.

Over all, I am glad to be here finally. The pilgrimage will begin in earnest for me when we visit Mount Nebo on Sunday. Tomorrow, the only thing scheduled as far as I can see is a visit to the local archeological museum. If you haven’t already picked it, Amman is the city of the ancient Ammonites. We will be travelling down through the areas of Moab and Edom in the next few days, all the way down to Petra and Aqaba, also visiting Mount Nebo.

Well, that’s about all for now. I will go up to my room and rest for a while before Mass.

9:30pm, 16th November, 2012
Amman, Jordan

Well, a bit of excitement outside the hotel this evening! Was this the Arab Spring come to Jordan? Probably not. It was a noisy but fairly peaceful demonstration (the police were in evidence – probably what we saw them preparing for earlier) involving lots of cars and honking of horns down in the street below our hotel. I gather it is in fact something to do with a protest over rising fuel costs here in Jordan. Whatever. It was my first Middle Eastern demonstration, and I saw it happen!

I received bit of a surprise tonight. Earlier when the keys were being handed out, I was surprised that, despite having enrolled as a “twin share” I was given a double room to my own. These things happen, I thought. Maybe there were an odd number of twin-sharers. But tonight I received quite a surprise when I entered my room to find someone else knocking about in the bathroom. At first I was confused – had I entered someone else’s room by mistake? (I was feeling a bit befuddled after a few hours sleep, no food etc.) No, it turns out I am sharing with Fr Peter from the Sale diocese. He had come up separately from Nigeria, where he had been visiting a fellow priest, and had joined us late. Nice to have the company, but I wish I had received some warning!

Great dinner tonight down in the restaurant. The food was one of things I was looking forward to about coming on this journey. Then we had our first “debriefing” session (with each contributing various duty free offerings) with Rosemary. Time for bed now. According to my watch, it has been just on 23 hours since leaving Melbourne, but of course, it has been closer to 32.

Saturday, 17th November, 2012
Amman and Jerash, Jordan

The room was too warm overnight, and the only bed covering a thick doona. Neither Peter nor I slept very well. The demonstrations about the fuel increases continued into the early morning. The issue is the increase in domestic gas as well as car fuel prices. Jordan does not have any domestic fuel source and imports all its energy needs.

I was awake at 5:30pm and spent the time reading and praying. Peter was up by 6am so we both went down for breakfast at 6:30am. Others were already there. A nice leisurely breakfast. The topic of the conversation was mainly about trying to work out the pay system for the in house internet. There was some rumour that free internet was available in the lobby, but as Fr Bhin said, “A place which charges for water at dinner isn’t very likely to provide free internet.” The charge is about $8 for an hour or $20 for a day. It seems that the first place to have free internet will be at Ma’agan in a week’s time.

We left the hotel at 8:30am to drive up to the “citadel” of Amman, the ancient hilltop city. It was an amazing precinct, with a temple to Hercules, a byzantine church, an Umayyad palace, and ending at the Jordan Archaeological Museum. The hilltop covered therefore about 8000 years of history, including the Biblical period (mentioned in 2 Samuel and elsewhere where David attacks the Ammonites), the Persian, Greek, Roman, Byzantine and Islamic periods. During the Roman and Byzantine period, the citadel was known as “Philadelphia” – not to be confused with the Philadelphia in Asia Minor which was one of the 7 churches of the Revelation. While walking around the site, a local worker looked at me and said “Abu-Shannab!” He repeated it and then explained to me in English: “You are the ‘Father of Moustaches’!” An apt name indeed! As we were leaving the Museum, Versi drew my attention to a little window in the wall that was selling a beautiful concoction of Turkish style coffee infused with Cardamom seeds. She was kind enough to buy me a cup (50 Jordanian cents – less than a dollar), and it was very refreshing.

We then did a coach tour of Amman, both the old city and the “Beverley Hills” of Amman, the high real estate section. We travelled north then to Jerash, or ancient Gerasa – which both Mark and Luke name as the site of the miracle of casting out the demon into the flock of pigs – the only problem being that it is no where near the Sea of Galilee. Matthew is probably more correct when he names Gadera as the site. There are two other possibilities: 1) Mark and Luke are referring to the area under the governorship of the Gerasa, or 2) there is yet another location which has not been identified by the archeologists – possibly somewhere called “Gergesa” (which is an alternative reading of the texts). In any case, Gerasa/Jerash provides a very good idea of the contemporary “vibe” of the region as a background to the biblical stories.

We had lunch as the “Artemis Restaurant” just outside Jerash, a very nice buffet for about $15. I ate too much but had plenty of opportunity to wear of the meal at the ancient city of Jerash/Gerasa. This is an astounding and breathtaking site in every respect. You enter through the South Gate, and there is a hippodrome on one side where they re-enact the chariot races (not today as it was Saturday, the equivalent of our Sunday in Jordan). The two main foci of the town are the temple of Zeus and the temple of Athens – joined by the main street running north and south. There is an oval square surrounded by columns that looks very much like Berlini’s elliptical square in the Vatican. There is a very large theatre (where I was able to perform a few songs – O what a beautiful morning and Praise to the Lord the Almighty – singing in these Roman theatres is a great experience. It makes you feel like you are one of the Three Tenors). There are ruins of as many as 25 churches in the old city area as well, from the Byzantine period. The Arab Muslims seem not to have used the city as a centre, although they have discovered ruins of an ancient mosque. But the Roman/Byzantine ruins are simply breathtaking. The only thing I could compare it with in my experience would be Ephesus, and in fact I think this place is far beyond Ephesus for overall effect.

We have a very good guide, Fadi. He is a Catholic and a local of the area, and knows both the book of the Scriptures and the book of the Land very well. He is writing a book at the moment on the Byzantine Church ruins in the area, and usually has a good answer for any historical question one may ask. He said that he doesn’t have a degree in history (he is an engineer by trade), but has done a lot of his own study, and has been a guide for 17 years. As a Christian, he has an interest in the Christian sites and the churches which we wouldn’t get from a non-Christian guide.

We have covered a lot of ground on foot today, and I have to admit that I have probably covered more ground than most of the group as I have been clambering up and down trying to get the best photos of the sites/sights. After five weeks of this, I should be very fit, but I desperately needed to have some exercise after our long journey yesterday.

I wasn’t expecting today to be as interesting – no, amazing – as it turned out to be. While none of the places we visited had a very direct connection to the story of Jesus (although both Philadelphia and Gerasa were cities of the Decapolis, a region which Jesus did visit – probably further north than here), both sites give one a deep insight into the Biblical period and the importance of this region during the period.

We returned to our hotel (crossing the river Jabok where Jacob wrestled with God!), and celebrated vigil mass for Sunday before dinner. We have an early leaving time in the morning for Mt Nebo and the baptismal site at the River Jordan before travelling on to Petra. I have spent an interminable time trying to connect to the internet, and it is now after midnight and I should get to bed.

I haven’t even left yet, and already it looks like our Catholic Theological College Bible Lands Study Tour may be heading into stormy waters (see news here).

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem – and pray for the safety of our tour group. Actually, I expect that the worst we will experience is disruption to our schedule, but you never know.

Well, on Friday I went to confession, and then yesterday I received the “pilgrim’s blessing” from Fr Dillon after Mass at Blackburn North. Then to fulfill all righteousness, I went around to Our Lady’s Church at Ringwood to renew my baptismal vows and obtain the Year of Faith Indulgence. Most fortuitously, Fr Andrew Keswick (the new PP of Ringwood) was just finishing conducting a baptism, and kindly led me through the rite of the renewal of vows (complete with readings and prayers) and then gave me another blessing. So I am about as set as one could be to head off on a pilgrimage.

Some of our protestant friends may object to all this rigamarole. In fact, one protestant reader of this blog (a first time commentator) did, in a submitted comment on my last post:

If you believe in “one Baptism for the forgiveness of sins”, then you know God will forgive you of your sins. Have a nice visit to the Catholic Church in Ringwood, but it will not get you to Heaven any faster.

Absolution, Holy Communion, Blessings and Indulgence are not something other than the grace of Jesus Christ himself from first to last. It is the “one baptism for the forgiveness of sins” that is in fact the basis for all these multiple ways in which God blesses me, forgives me, and prepares my soul for its final pilgrimage through the valley of the shadow of death into the light of his presence.

I am so grateful that my Church reaches out to to such poor sinners as myself with all these blessings and graces from Jesus.