Sunday, 14 October ~ Jayneann McIntosh

You would have to work at it to avoid the injured man on the side of the road.

This was my takeaway as I looked down to the ancient “road” between Jerusalem and Jericho. The steep rocky walls of the valley and minimal vegetation wouldn’t allow one to pretend ignorance.

The “road” from Jerusalem down to Jericho.

My thoughts continued… How many of my fellow pilgrims have, like me, been comfortably unaware of the plight of the Palestinian people?

Jesus tells his story – about three people who face the choice of helping a person in need or turning away – to teach us about neighbors and about love.

Sunday, 14 October ~ Tom Pietila

The wilderness: such an appropriate place to begin a pilgrimage to Israel and Palestine. Historically and biblically it is a place of danger, temptation, solitude, prayer and beauty.  It is a place where one comes to know that their life depends upon God and that our lives are linked together. It is a place of blessing and great beauty. What a meaningful place to contemplate faith and justice.

The wilderness at Wadi Qelt

13 October, by Katie Archibald-Wooodward

As we drove from Bethlehem into Jerusalem I watched the world as it sailed across my window.  I decided to play a little game with myself.  Just try to see. Pretend there is no occupation. No military control over another people who cannot enter this side of the wall.  Just see what is outside.

View of the Al Makhrour Valley near Bethlehem and Jerusalem

And it was lovely. I drank in the vistas, stone terraces trickling down green hillsides, beautiful houses scattered across others, lush trees lining our highway, a blue cloudless sky over it all.  It was so moving I felt compelled to comment out loud to the others with me, “It is such a beautiful day!”  It was like a veil had lifted.  As I ignored all the other invisible information I knew about the view on the other side of the glass the scene was so pleasant and inviting.  If I didn’t know any better, and for these moments I was choosing not to, I would think this land of the Bible had become a thriving community.  A glorious, welcoming, and developed land.

The idyllic vision made me feel so happy inside.  I was amazed by the whole unfolding experience.  I was astonished by the amount of positivity and delight coursing through me—and equally astounded by the tempered emotions and subtle sadness I was suddenly aware of that had been my unconscious state prior to this little mind game.  Don’t get me wrong, I experience joy and happiness when I am here, but not because of the landscapes and holy sites, it is because of the people.  The dear ones I have developed relationships with.

Father Firas Khoury Diab with our leader/guide, Usama Nicola

It is because of these dear ones that I also feel the sadness I do.  Knowing them has made me aware of what was unseen among these vistas. Invisible amidst the pretty neighborhoods and free-flowing freeway.  Their vistas are found a few kilometers back. Before the road becomes a highway, just two lanes passing in and out of a military checkpoint with assault-rifle wielding soldiers checking documents and playing on their phones.  It is along this road on the other side of a 16-year-old, 25-foot wall that you will find them, my dear ones, in a place called Bethlehem.