Day Seven - In Jerusalem

Liberty University's Israel Tour 2009 as Experienced by One Student
Sunday, March 15, 2009
(Click here for today's photos.)

We are here. I wake up with the acute awareness of having reached my city - Jerusalem. My joy is a bit tampered after a look outside my window. Since I am on the subterranean level of the hotel where there is a walk-out patio, I can quickly detect the puddles with raindrops forming concentric circles as they fall in the already standing water. It wouldn't be a true trip to Israel without some rain, especially in March. We already had a bit of a precursor yesterday when it rained in the Galilee over night. But now it is really coming down. Not a pretty day to be walking around Jerusalem, but any day with rain is a good day in Israel. The land so urgently needs it!

After breakfast (oh, I remember all the good food at the Grand Court from last year!), we get on the bus. Dr. Caner jumps on to tell us that we will have a joint teaching time with the Thomas Road Baptist Church group on the Mount of Olives and that they will then go back to the hotel due to the rain (are you kidding me?). I give Joanne my cheapie rain cover I had brought since I have an umbrella. Our first stop, as we already heard from Dr. Caner, is at the top of the Mount of Olives. We get off, only to be greeted by rain. Blessings from heaven! You just have to keep a positive outlook on things. We snap our obligatory photos of each other in front of the Temple Mount, the Eastern Gate (or Golden Gate, a key site as far as Biblical prophecy goes) and the Dome of the Rock with its beautiful gold domed roof. Dr. Yates and I spend a few moments looking for the excavations of the City of David to our left, but they are too far away to make out much. We won't go through Hezekiah's Tunnel this year - bummer, because that would have taken us down in that direction, and Dr. Yates could have seen some of these excavations. Next trip! (Boy, that has become an often repeated phrase, hasn't it?) There is now a fabulous website that shows some of the site and the story of its excavation. We will get to go up on the Temple Mount, according to Tzvika, so that is something to definitely look forward to: to stand where the First and Second Temple once stood is a truly astounding experience.

Dr. Caner's teaching is wonderful, but wet. I fear for the open Bible in his hand. Before we head down the Mount of Olives, we line up the entire Liberty contingent for the obligatory Jerusalem souvenir photo. This is a new experience for me - 182 bodies lined up for one commemorative shot. It is not easy juggling all the moving parts, such as hats, rain covers and umbrellas, and still getting a good group shot. I have to give the photographer a lot of credit - the photo came out quite well. On our way, we encounter some Arab vendors who are very smart: they hawk umbrellas. "One umbrella $5." Yeah right. Only first time Jerusalem visitors are that gullible (oops, quite a few are...). I tell a couple of those walking with me to wait a bit until most people clear out, then I walk up to the vendors and tell them I will buy two umbrellas - for $4. "Oh no, sorry Miss, cannot do that." "Thank you then and goodbye." "Wait, wait, okay, okay, but don't tell anyone you bought for this low." "Understood." Two minutes later, another fellow traveler realizes what just happened and says "Shoot, for $2, I would have bought one, too." So Elke walks back with $2 in her hand, and another umbrella is bought. We begin our descent down the Mount of Olives, and to come with us, you can take a look at this interactive map from a Jordanian travel agency.

With the hotel with probably the best view of Jerusalem, the 7 Arches Hotel, behind us, we begin walking down the very steep road leading us down the Mount of Olives towards the Garden of Gethsemane. To our left, graves upon graves are lining the road next to us and are stretching far back along the mountain side. This is the Jewish Cemetery where Jews have longed to be buried since their return to the land of Israel in the belief that the resurrection when the Messiah comes will begin here. Zechariah 14:4 says "On that day his feet shall stand on the Mount of Olives that lies before Jerusalem on the east, and the Mount of Olives shall be split in two from east to west by a very wide valley, so that one half of the Mount shall move northward, and the other half southward.". Ezekiel 43:1-5 tells us that the glory of the God of Israel will return through the Eastern Gate. Christian graves are in the Kidron Valley below us (among them Oskar Schindler's tomb), and the Muslim ones are close to the Eastern (or Golden) Gate. I have learned on prior trips that Muslims want to stop the advance of the Jewish Messiah by putting a cemetery in front of the Eastern Gate. Wikipedia phrases it like this:

"In Jewish tradition, this is the gate through which the Messiah will enter Jerusalem. Ottoman Sultan Suleiman I sealed off the Golden Gate in 1541 to prevent the Messiah's entrance. The Muslims also built a cemetery in front of the gate, in the belief that the precursor to the Messiah, Elijah, would not be able to pass through, since he is a Kohen. This belief is erroneous because a Kohen is permitted to enter a cemetery in which primarily non-Jews are buried."

Well, there you have it in writing (even from Wikipedia): nothing and no one will stop the Messiah, whom we know to be Jesus Christ, Yeshua HaMashiach, from entering back into His city.

We take a right detour off the road to enter into the garden of Dominus Flevit. This church features the most beautiful view of the Temple Mount through its chapel window. Dominus Flevit means "the Lord wept", and it is easy to see how this could have been the site where Jesus wept over Jerusalem. Matthew 23:37-40 describes Jesus' outpouring of grief over a non-believing Jerusalem:

"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not! See, your house is left to you desolate. For I tell you, you will not see me again, until you say, 'Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.'"

The reason we are stopping here is not for the view as regrettably there is a Catholic mass being held in the chapel, but rather to look at the ossuaries or bone boxes. These date back to the time of Jesus and truly give a good insight to us as to why Luke would describe Jesus telling a man who wanted to follow Him but first wanted to bury his father to follow Him now. With ancient Jewish burial rituals, it took one year to wait for the body to decompose and for the relatives to come back and gather the bones into an ossuary for final burial.

With a worried look at the sky, I continue to walk towards the Garden of Gethsemane with the group. Worried because I know how slippery the stones along the road leading down can get, and I have seen more than one person there take a spill on a rainy day. Mercifully, we all make it down safely and enter into the already very crowded garden area. Most people here walk by the olive trees without realizing how old these trees truly are. They are called the "Silent Witnesses" for a reason because it is very likely that they were already producing fruit here during Jesus' time in Jerusalem. Olive trees can be chopped down to the roots and still regenerate. It is truly a beautiful symbol of life. One of my favorite verses in the Scriptures always seems to materialize before my eyes when I stand in front of the olive trees in the Garden of Gethsemane. It is in Romans 11:17-19 that the Jewish people are depicted as the original olive tree. It says:

But if some of the branches were broken off, and you, although a wild olive shoot, were grafted in among the others and now share in the nourishing root of the olive tree, do not be arrogant toward the branches. If you are, remember it is not you who support the root, but the root that supports you. Then you will say, "Branches were broken off so that I might be grafted in."

Wikipedia quotes Lewington and Parker from their book Ancient Trees by saying that "yields from trees grown from suckers or seeds are poor; it must be budded or grafted onto other specimens to do well". I found this particularly interesting in light of the passage in Romans. We have been grafted onto the strong tree of Judaism, and we, as New Testament believers, should never forget that. Jesus is not "blond, blue-eyed and seven feet tall", as my guide Mickey on trips past used to note, "...neither does He speak Italian". We enter the Church of All Nations, a beautiful church built on the grounds of the Garden of Gethsemane to commemorate Jesus' prayer there. In its center is an enclosed area of bedrock, which is by tradition the place where Jesus prayed prior to His arrest. I send Erin and Dr. Yates on a mission to find the American Eagle in the church. This church was built by donations from several nations (hence the name), and the national emblems are on the ceiling. My favorite part of the Church of All Nations is the view across the street: you are almost completely aligned with the Eastern Gate, which was also referred to as the Beautiful Gate in the New Testament in the story in Acts 3 of Peter healing the lame beggar.

Leaving the Garden of Gethsemane, we cross the street to an area directly across, which is normally closed off. For a little donation, we are able to have our worship time there, which is very wonderful because outside of our (albeit large) group, there is no one there. After a time of praise and teaching, we are told we have a few minutes to look around. A thought pops into my head, and I excitedly walk over to Erin and Dr. Yates who are taking photos in front of the olive trees. Just around the corner from this garden, there is the Church of the Assumption (Mary's Tomb). I had only been there twice before briefly, but I remember how simply amazing I found this church with its beautiful crusader staircase. Dr. Yates and Erin are up for it, so we go on yet another one of our very quickly executed excursions. Most amazingly, outside of two old Greek Orthodox priests who eye us a bit suspiciously, there is no one else in the church. The staircase alone is worth walking down into the church. By Greek Orthodox tradition, this is where the tomb of Mary is. By Catholic tradition, her tomb is on Mount Zion in the Abbey of the Dormition, or Hagia Maria Sion Abbey, as it is now officially called. Take your pick. Reminds me of Bethlehem where there are three Shepherds' Fields to choose from. Dr. Yates gets a little too close to Mary's tomb for my taste. I can see a Greek Orthodox priest come running at him any second now. Dr. Yates is apparently too well behaved after all and doesn't get too close, as this does not happen. We make our way back out, thanking the old Greek Orthodox priest sitting at the bottom of the stairs for allowing us to visit. He almost breaks a smile. At the top of the stairs, we make a quick left, as this is where the Grotto of the Betrayal is. We can only take a quick look as another Greek Orthodox priest is about to detect us, but we note the engravings and decorations on the ceiling of this cave. After a very quick run towards where the buses are, we make it on the bus without anyone having noticed us missing.

A few minutes later, we arrive at Mount Zion where we get off to visit David's Tomb and then the traditional Last Supper Room or Cenacle. David's Tomb has greatly changed since I first visited it a few years back. It used to be "unisex", meaning men and women were able to walk up to the tomb in the same room. Now, it is separated by a divider wall, a clear indication of how much the Orthodox Jews have begun to assert themselves on the strict gender separation required of them. Tzvika and I have a brief conversation about this topic as we are exiting, and he voices his annoyance at how much this is starting to impact every day life in Israel. A good example of this is the call for separated buses in Jerusalem. As we are talking, I have to suppress a chuckle as I see some of our guys exiting the men's section with their "french fry boats" on their heads. If you don't have a head covering, you can take one of the paper kippot (plural of kippah), but I have to say they look pretty silly. For a couple of dollars (or shekels), they could have looked a lot more stylish with a real kippah covering their heads. Dr. Yates heads back into the men's section armed with my camera to get a shot of the two Orthodox men studying the Talmud there. These old men study and study, yet they have no idea that their Messiah has already come and is getting ready to come back. When He returns, their eyes will open wide and "Baruch HaShem" (Blessed be the Name) will come from their lips, fulfilling Jesus' words.

After exiting David's Tomb, we try to get up to the Upper Room, which is right above from David's Tomb, but Tzvika initially finds all doors closed. We finally make it up there, but it is already pretty crowded by other groups. I remember being in this room with only our small travel group a few years back, and it felt a lot more spacious, but now I just feel like a sardine and hardly in a worshipful mood. My favorite part there is actually a beautiful window with Arabic script, testimony to its earlier status as a mosque and the many Muslim occupiers (and others) of Jerusalem of the past.

Our final stop of the day is for a Dr. Caner teaching session at the Sheraton Hotel where our travel mates from Thomas Road Baptist Church are staying. Dr. Yates is just dying to get into the Old City and see some history, so I seek permission from my professor (oh...that just happens to be Dr. Yates) to skip the teaching session and investigate the Old City. We quickly find some others in the group who are willing to take our backpacks back to the hotel and discreetly exchange them with us later. We grab a city map at the reception - and off we go. A quick cab ride later, we are at Jaffa Gate and make our way into the Jewish Quarter. Our walk takes us past remnants of the ancient Cardo and the Broad Wall, a wall King Hezekiah built to defend against Assyria. After some quick shopping to get a Hebrew language sports shirt for Dr. Yates' son, we head down the stairs towards the Western Wall. On the way down, we pass the golden menorah, made from solid gold through donations of Jews around the globe and crafted by the Temple Institute. On prior trips, I have been to the Temple Institute to see their amazing collection of recreated vessels and priestly garments to be ready for the third Temple. They have even identified Cohen (priests) and have outfitted them with the appropriate garments. They are ready to go!

After passing the security checks, we are finally at the Western Wall. Dr. Yates and Erin and I separate, as there are sides for men and women. To me, it is always a very emotional moment. Emotional not only because I am as close as I will ever be to where the Holy of Holies stood and the Shekinah glory of God resided in the First Temple, but also because I observe so many devout Jewish women and men who honestly seek God. Some are weeping as they are praying. For some, it may be rote worship, but with several it is obvious they are seeking God's face. My prayer at the Western Wall is not just for a speedy return of Jesus Christ, but also for Him to reveal Himself to these women and men who are so diligently seeking Him. I walk up to the wall to place a slip of paper into the wall. My friend Elke, who couldn't come with me on this trip, had asked me to place it in the wall for her. We meet up with Dr. Yates who has been to the wall on the men's side and head back through the Muslim Quarter towards our hotel. As we walk out of the Old City, we take a quick look at the Roman gate below the Damascus Gate. The gates of the Old City of Jerusalem are truly a beautiful sight to behold! A few minutes further, past Arab Muslim stores and through small side streets, we reach the hotel, but not before Dr. Yates almost gets arrested for (almost) taking a photo of the US Consulate on Nablus Road. Oops. I should have known, but didn't think. Good thing we have digital cameras - a film would have been gone, as the security guard checks Dr. Yates' camera. It turns out that we are the first ones at dinner, and the rest of the group slowly trickles in for dinner. We try to be as inconspicuous as possible. It was a very good day, despite the rain.

Day Eight - In Jerusalem

Liberty University's Israel Tour 2009 as Experienced by One Student
Monday, March 16, 2009
(Click here for today's photos.)

As my alarm goes off, I realize that fatigue is really starting to set in. The nights have been short trying to get an Internet connection going to upload some photos and send some e-mails, and it is beginning to become noticeable in my tiredness this morning and the dark circles I see in my reflection in the mirror, which are starting to grow under my eyes. Need sleep. Of course, that is just wishful thinking as another packed day is ahead of us, and how could I possibly sleep when I am in Jerusalem, the city of the King!

This morning, our first stop is the Temple Mount. This is only my third visit to the Temple Mount, so I am very excited. This most hotly contested piece of real estate on this globe has an amazing history. There is so much to be known about the conflicts arising around this special place. Today, it is under the control of the Waqf. Seemingly simple actions like doing maintenance work causes huge disruptions in the relationship between Jews and Muslims. We enter the Western Wall area, but stay to our right to go up onto the Temple Mount via a wooden walkway. There was another walkway here until a few years ago, but it threatened to collapse. When the Jewish authorities began building a replacement ramp, they came upon ancient ruins. The building of the ramp was halted and excavations were begun by the Israel Antiquties Authority - again causing a huge conflict with the Muslims protesting this activity so close to the Temple Mount. After passing through a stringent security check (no Bibles, no obviously religious items, etc.), we can see the excavations to our right as we go up the ramp. The very busy Western Wall plaza is to our left. Today is Monday - Bar Mitzvah day at the Western Wall. We will be seeing this later. I love being here for Bar Mitzvahs. It is a truly special sight to anyone who has a love for the Jewish people.

On the Temple Mount, Tzvika shares some of its history with us and explains that we are standing with our backs to the Al Aqsa Mosque, which is actually also quite old (dating back to 705 CE, but destroyed several times and rebuilt in its present form in 1035 CE) and which is a true mosque, while the more prominently known Dome of the Rock is really a shrine commemorating the night ride of Muhammed. It is, however, very old, originally built in 691 CE. Inbetween the two buildings is the El-Kas Fountain where Muslim worshipers wash their feet before entering the mosque. We have some time to walk around the grounds, so I take Dr. Yates, Erin and a few others down to the backside of the Eastern Gate. Every time I stand there, I can just imagine this gate opening up to let the King of Kings walk through. We join the rest of the group who are snapping photos of the truly beautiful Dome of the Rock. I love this structure, and I love this place. Even though these are Muslim structures standing here now, I always have a sense of peace when I walk on the Temple Mount. It is, first and foremost, God's address on earth. This is where He chose to dwell with His people Israel once they conquered the Promised Land. I believe that part of the reason why we are here and why God has called us to Jerualem is what Isaiah speaks about:

On your walls, O Jerusalem, I have set watchmen;
all the day and all the night they shall never be silent.
You who put the LORD in remembrance, take no rest, and give him no rest
until he establishes Jerusalem and makes it a praise in the earth.

And it starts here, on the Temple Mount. We are the ones who are called in this generation to "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem", as Psalm 122:6 challenges us.

We continue on around the plateau on which Solomon built the First Temple, Zerubabbel the Second Temple and which was then greatly expanded under Herod. We reach a small cupola, where the bedrock of Mount Moriah is visible. It is called the Dome of the Tablets, or Dome of the Spirits. Dr. Asher Kaufman studied the location and proposed that this is where the Holy of Holies actually stood. It is in direct line with the Eastern Gate. There are opposing views on this, of course. I want to believe Dr. Kaufman is right. Dr. Yates plays it safe and takes off his shoes to have his photo taken - he may just be standing on holy ground...! It is an awe-inspiring thought to think that we may be standing where yet another Temple will stand one day. Ezekiel's layout and measurements of the Temple he saw in a vision (Ezekiel 40-48) do not align with those of the prior two. How amazing that we are living in days where this could be fulfilled rather quickly.

Leaving the Temple Mount, we exit through a gate leading us through the Muslim Quarter, and we head towards the Western Wall. Since Dr. Yates, Erin and I had already visited the wall last night, we can use our time there to just observe the bar mitzvahs going on. What a joy to view these celebrations. While the moms stay outside the main area, which is restricted to men, they joyfully anticipate the emergence of their son with the male relatives and friends walking with him from the area of Wilson's Arch. The boys for the first time wear the tefillin, or phylacteries, and their tallit, or prayer shawl. They are carrying Torah scrolls, from which they will read. There is lots of joyful singing and clapping going on, and the moms throw candy and let out their high-pitched joyful noise, which I don't even know how to describe in words. It sounds Arabic in its tonality to me, and I believe it must be a leftover from Diaspora days. With some wonderful photos and short video clips recorded on my camera, I join the rest of the group and say goodbye to the Western Wall. On the way back to the bus, we run into a group waiting to get onto the plaza. They are playing drums and blowing shofars in joyful anticipation of one young man's bar mitzvah today.

Our bus picks us up and we head over to the Lion's Gate or St. Stephen's Gate. According to tradition, this is where Stephen suffered martyrdom, as described in Acts 7, after an amazing apology of his faith. We are here to see the Pool of Bethesda and St. Anne's Church. The Pool of Bethesda is known to us from the Gospel of John, which describes the healing of a crippled man by Jesus here. I remember the first time I came here, I could not believe how deep these pools must have been. We continue on to St. Anne's Church, which is on the same grounds. This church, which is a 12th century crusader church, is striking because of its unadorned simplicity and has the most astounding acoustics, which we get to fully appreciate as Teresa sings "Amazing Grace" for us. Beautiful. Simply beautiful. The church was built for Gregorian chants and every voice becomes a beautiful instrument in its cavernous interior. As everybody starts walking out, I look for Dr. Yates and Erin, but they are already gone. Instead I grab Joanne and take her to the downstairs of this church with me. Down some stone steps there is a crypt below the church. An altar dedicated to Mary is down here, and the ancient rock is part of the shrine. From what I learned before, during the Muslim occupation of Israel, for a payment, Christian pilgrims were permitted to celebrate mass in the grotto.

We are getting back on the bus for lunch at Kibbutz Ramat Rachel. After lunch, Tzvika takes us to a hillside close by overlooking Bethlehem as we will not be able to go into the city on this trip. Since it rained yesterday, our shoes are nice and muddy by the time we get back to the bus from crossing a rather soggy field to get a view of the city. We are on our way for our final stop of the day: Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum. I first visited Yad Vashem in 2006 when I was here with my German girlfriend Sabine. It was late in the day, and we had to rush through the exhibit a bit, but I distinctly remember the sinking feeling we both had walking through and seeing the pain and agony and ultimately death our countrymen had caused six million Jewish people. We were afraid to speak to each other for fear that someone might figure out we were German. Today, we start at the Children's Memorial. I have not seen this part yet, and what a sad place to visit it is. It is so simple and yet so profound. Walking along a completely dark path, its only illumination comes from five burning candles, which are replicated thousands of times by mirrors at all angles imaginable. As you walk through, a list of names and ages of children murdered in the Holocaust is read. I have come to Yad Vashem with the distinct wish to find the right person to address regarding photos my mother still has of her best friend growing up, Ruth Levy, who was taken away with her parents and killed in Lodz, Poland. I had found her name in the Yad Vashem database, but I want to make sure that her image and that of her parents is attached to her file. I want her to be remembered. If there is nothing else I can change about what happened, I can change this. I can make sure her name is known. A Jewish man, David Berger, in his last letter from Vilna in 1941 wrote: "...I should like someone to remember that there once lived a person named David Berger." I would like someone to remember there was a young girl named Ruth Levy, only a few days older than my mom, and that she had parents named Samuel and Hedwig Levy. Well, she lived, and yes, she died, and soon her photo will be there for all to remember her by.

Exiting out of the Children's Memorial, I see how moved some others are. We make our way through the alley of the "Righteous Among the Nations", where trees are planted for Gentiles who tried to help the Jews during the Holocaust. Corrie ten Boom, who lived and wrote "The Hiding Place", has a tree here, as do many others who are not as well-known. There is still the main exhibition hall to see, and again it is very difficult for me to walk through. One person even comments to me how hard it must be for me, as a German, to walk through here. I feel like saying "No sh.., Sherlock." Talk about the obvious. I am happy that I can translate some signs and photographs along the way to make what is displayed have an even stronger impact. On the way out, I find the right person to talk to about getting Ruth' and her parents' photos submitted, and I clutch the envelope to submit the photos in as we walk out. The exit of Yad Vashem's exhibition hall is truly a relief after the darkness of death. Walking out into light and seeing the beautiful hills ahead allows me to take a breath and to walk back into life. This last part of the day has not been an easy one emotionally, and everyone on the bus is a bit more subdued on the way back to the hotel.

Since it is still fairly early in the day, I make the suggestion that we head over to Ben Yehuda Street to get our last minute shopping in. Dr. Percer regrettably is not feeling well, so we leave him to rest as Dr. Yates, Erin, Lisa Percer and I get in a taxi to head to the top of Ben Yehuda. We spend a great time just looking at shops and picking out kippahs featuring sports teams' logos and getting t-shirts and sweatshirts to commemorate our trip. Since according to our map, it really isn't that far back to the hotel, we walk back. Dinner is wonderful as always. My friends, the Daas family, is coming to the hotel tonight, at least the plan is to meet at 8 pm. 8 pm brings a text message that they are delayed, and it will be 9 pm. No problem. By the time they finally get there, it is around 10 pm. I am sincerely tired, but I also do not care, since I am overjoyed to see my friends. Mosher, his wife Iptesam and their sons Mahmoud and Muhammed, plus a cousin, Taleb, whom I have met before, come into the lobby of the hotel with beaming smiles. I love this family. Mosher was my bus driver the very first group tour I took to Israel, and we have been friends ever since. I have been to their beautiful home in Tira, and they are just really special to me. The Daas family are Muslim Arabs, and through them, I have learned a lot about Arab hospitality. We spend a wonderful two hours or so together before they head back towards Tira. Regrettably, I don't get to see their two older daughters. Hiba, the oldest, studies at a university in Germany now, hoping to become a doctor, and Ruba, the second oldest, is a student at Hebrew University in Jerusalem. Smart beautiful lovely people. I am so happy to call them friends. This day was tough. Emotional ups and downs, but the sweet note it ended on makes it a good day on balance.

Day Nine - In Jerusalem and Home

Liberty University's Israel Tour 2009 as Experienced by One Student
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
(Click here for today's photos.)

Whereas I may have woken up exhilarated or just plain tired on some other mornings here in Israel, today I wake up with a sinking feeling. All the planning and preparation and anticipation of coming on this trip and the excitement of being here has had the complete brake action applied this morning as I open my eyes. It is our last day in Israel; tonight we begin our journey home. I know that today will be as difficult as on my past trips, and I promise myself that I will savor each moment fully. Packing isn't easy; as usual I have bought way too many things. My bag was full coming over, but it was full of presents for my friends here. Now it is full with, well, stuff. Great stuff (books, sweatshirts, t-shirts, kippot, olive oil...and other...bottles, new Leehee jewelry), but stuff nevertheless. I finally manage to close the zipper and start getting a bit nervous about the bag's weight, but not much I can do at this stage. Should have brought an extra bag...

After our final breakfast and closing out all outstanding bills, we get on the bus and say goodbye to the Grand Court Hotel, our home for the past three days. Tzvika had already told us yesterday that we would be walking a portion of the Via Dolorosa, the traditional path Jesus took on His way to the cross. The Via Dolorosa mostly runs through today's Muslim Quarter of the city, and we enter through Herod's Gate (or Flowers Gate) - admittedly a route I have never taken. The gates of Jerusalem are all unique. We stop at the second station of the Cross, the Ecce Homo Church ("Behold the Man!"). The Ecce Homo Arch, of which only part remains, was once thought to have been part of the gate structure of the Antonia Fortess, the place where Pontius Pilate would have presented Jesus to the crowd with the words "Behold the Man!"(Ecce Homo in Latin). This arch is now believed to originate from Emperor Hadrian's time during the second century CE. For us, the floor still visible in the church holds the biggest draw: there are games etched into the ancient stones that are believed to have been engraved there by Roman legionnaires. The stone pavement, or lithostratos, still visible, is said to date back to Jesus' time, although it may also be from a century later. We climb down to the Struthion Pool, which may have provided the Fortress Antonia with water during the Herodian days. Since we have to join the other buses at the Garden Tomb for a joint worship service, our visit to the Via Dolorosa is truly a brief one as we exit out through the Damascus Gate rather quickly, but not before I get a chance to buy one of the fabulous bagels with even more fabulous za'atar (dried rubbed herbs into which you dip your broken off morsels of the quite large bagel) in the Muslim Quarter. On the way out of the Muslim Quarter I see a couple of Israeli soldiers question a young Arab man. Just a short reminder that diligent observation is always happening here to ward off any possibility of trouble - something that I deeply appreciate. I have never felt unsafe here, and this sight just reinforces why in my head. Israeli eyes are always busy here.

We cross the road and walk up Nablus Road to the Garden Tomb where the groups from the other buses are also just arriving. After my first touring trip to Israel, I had to have surgery, and my friend Mosher came here to pray for me. A Muslim man had understood how much this place meant to his Christian friend. I found that to be incredibly moving. It is indeed a special place; after the hustle and bustle and noise of Jerusalem's streets, this is a welcome respite. It is a beautiful garden just oozing tranquility, even when many people are here to visit. We wait until another group leaves and are told to take their seats. It turns out, we are right in front of the podium where Dr. Caner and Rev. Falwell will speak to us. As we wait for everyone else to settle in, I share my bagel with the others. I am so happy when someone else discovers one of the truly many delicious foods this country has to offer with its variety of cultures having come to make a home here.

The worship service is again truly moving, and I feel so set free to worship God not through abiding by tight rules and regulations of the many religions present here in Jerusalem, but rather through free and heartfelt adoration as His child, set free from sin and bondage through the blood of Jesus Christ, spilled here in Jerusalem for me. I raise my hands in worship to my Abba Father who loves me so much. Communion cups and trays of bread are passed around, and we remember once again the price Jesus paid for our sins. If it had been only me, He would have gone to the cross just the same. It is a truth that sinks in deeply as I sit in the cool garden. "I come by the blood" - how often have I sung this beautiful song, but how very strongly I feel that "I dare not stand on my righteousness; my every hope rests on what Christ has done". We conclude our worship and slowly move to the rocky hillside, which is called Gordon's Calvary after Major-General Charles George Gordon, who found the unique looking side of a cliff, resembling the face of a skull (Golgotha). In the garden behind us, a tomb was found, which Gordon believed to possibly have been Jesus' tomb as He was laid into a new tomb. However, archeaologists now believe that this tomb actually dates back to several centuries prior to Jesus' day. After listening to our guide tell us the story of Golgotha and the tomb and of Jesus Christ, His death, burial and resurrection and the hope we can have because of it, we make our way back to the tomb. It is a narrow door, but what a visual to see the empty tomb and a sign on the way out the door "He is not here, for He is risen." Amen! I am blessed to be here, even though today there are no other groups singing praises to our Lord and God in languages from around the globe. Last time I was here, you could hear German and Finnish in addition to English - truly a blessing as we see a portion of the prophetic statement, which Micah uttered centuries before the birth of Jesus Christ, come true before our eyes that "many nations shall come, and say: "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths."

Back on the bus, we meditate on what our eyes have seen and our hearts have understood. We are preparing for our last stop in Jerusalem: St. Peter Gallicantu, a Roman Catholic church commemorating the crowing of the rooster after Peter denied Jesus three times, as Jesus had foretold. We are not here for the church as much as for what may have stood here in ancient past, and what is underneath it: this is believed to have been the house of Caiaphas, and below it, there are underground crypts. Tradition holds that Jesus was imprisoned here after his arrest while Peter denied knowing him three times in the courtyard outside. We walk down into the caves, and it is a somber thought to think what anguish Jesus must have felt during those moments. Reading Psalm 88 drives home the enormous emotional turmoil:

I am counted among those who go down to the pit; I am a man who has no strength,
like one set loose among the dead, like the slain that lie in the grave,
like those whom you remember no more, for they are cut off from your hand.
You have put me in the depths of the pit, in the regions dark and deep.

As we exit, we go down to the "Holy Stairs", as the sign says. These are ancient steps that may have been a staircase that provided a shortcut from the Garden of Gethsemane through the Kidron Valley the night of Jesus' arrest.

Back on the bus, Tzvika explains lunch options in the Jewish Quarter for us: falafel or shawarma. YES! Finally!!! I have been waiting for this all week. We find our way to the restaurant where we will stop for lunch and greedy old me orders some extra falafel balls, made from chickpeas, with my shawarma. I don't care at this point - just know that I will not leave Israel without having had both. I am definitely a happy camper after I indulge in my favorite Israeli foods. After lunch, we head out to do a little more shopping. Dr. Yates, Erin, Steven Smith and Joanne Russel join me. We purchase a couple more t-shirts in the Jewish Quarter. I also stop by my favorite shop in the Jewish Quarter (well, outside of the Blue and White Gallery, owned by Udi Merioz, a very gifted painter, which I will not visit on this trip due to budgetary constraints - I already own several paintings and prints from there). The shop I take the others to now is run by an older Yemenite Jewish man. He is a total sweetheart, and I enjoy showing people I come to Jerusalem with the beautiful and very simple mezuzot (plural of mezuzah) made from Jerusalem stone he sells at his shop. I can tell that tourist business is in full swing - the price has gone up 150% from when I bought my first mezuzah here in March 2005! Trust me, they are still a bargain for gift hunters. We continue on to the Muslim Quarter as Steven wants to buy some scarves for folks at home. After trying to teach my American friends some serious wheeling and dealing, we are able to buy ten beautiful scarves for $20. I can't remember exactly what we were quoted as the starting price, but suffice it to say, we pay probably a third of the starting price. As we exit, the shop owners compliments me on my bargaining skills. If only he knew how much honing they have had over the years in many countries! A look at my watch shows that we have another 30 minutes before we have to meet up again, and all of a sudden it dawns on me that we are only a few steps away from the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the traditional location of Jesus' crucifixion and resurrection. It is not on our itinerary, and so after a quick check for interest ("YES!"), we dash off through the narrow streets of the Muslim Quarter. In a few minutes, we have reached the church. What a fascinating place if you want to get an education in rote religion! The first time I was here, I was heartbroken. I apologize in advance for what I am about to say because I don't want to offend anyone reading this, but it was a turn-off to me to see women kissing a slab of stone, the Stone of Unction, on which Jesus by tradition was prepared for burial. Equally, it was a turn-off to witness Greek Orthodox priests yelling at us, shoving me and pulling my girlfriend's arm when we didn't immediately understand they needed us to move for a procession. This is not the love Jesus called us to. This is religion. Yet I still want everyone to see this church because it has by far the longest tradition (dating back to the very early church age) of being the place of Jesus' crucifixion and burial. It is a beautiful church; there is absolutely no doubt about that. We make our way up to the Catholic and Greek Orthodox chapels. the Greek Orthodox portion, easily discernible because of its lavish decorations, compared to the almost starkness of the Catholic side next to it, has the rock in a glassed case on which by tradition the cross stood, Golgotha.We exit down the stairs, and I take my fellow visitors down to my favorite part here: the lower levels of this church, a very old part of it. To get to it, you go down a flight of crusader stairs, similar to the ones we saw at Mary's Tomb, but even wider. Down below are a number of little chapels. It is usually very quiet down here, which this is by far my favorite place. On the way up, I point out the many crosses the crusaders and people after them carved into the rock above our heads. We walk around to the actual tomb section, but there are too many people waiting in line to get in to make it in our allotted time slot. Looking at my watch, I decide we need to head back to the Jewish Quarter, if we want to be on time. On the way, Dr. Yates and I have a little contest which of our Hebrew t-shirts is cooler, the Eagles or the Redskins one, but Dr. Yates finally gives in and wears the clearly winning shirt while Elke does a victory dance all the while snapping incriminating photos of him wearing amazing color green.

Our time in Jerusalem is over, and I find it so hard to say goodbye to this city, which has become my second home. I know that living here is not easy, according to those who have come here from other countries, especially the US, but I would give anything to be able to live here for a few years at minimum. It is without any competition the most amazing place on this planet. Barry and Batya Segal have recorded a song about Jerusalem, and I want to share it with you as our bus rolls out of the city:



Tzvika has one more sightseeing surprise left for us: he will take us to the ancient port of Jaffa (or Joppa as Scripture readers would know it by), now a part of modern Tel Aviv. For Christians, the most significant mention of Joppa is in the book of Acts. This is the house where Peter stayed with Simon the Tanner when he had the vision on the roof of the house, telling him that God wanted His kingdom to include Gentiles and shortly thereafter Cornelius, the Roman centurion sought him out to learn about his God. Joppa is actually mentioned 14 times in Scripture - both in the Old and the New Testament. Tzvika sets us free to explore Joppa, and while some of the group enjoy the sunset on the Mediterranean with a spectacular view of Tel Aviv, others opt to stroll through the ancient narrow streets. Yours truly walks by a shop window and finds the coin she was flirting with buying in Jerusalem already (a Pontius Pilate coin, dated 29-30 CE, now how exciting is that for a believer in Jesus Christ?). It is in better shape than the one I saw in Jerusalem, and I wind up buying it for $210 less than the price offered to me in Jerusalem ("Final price, Madame.") Right. Final price happens in Joppa. To read about my beauty and see it (it's the one listed as having been minted in 29 CE), click here. I finalize my purchase and rush for the bus, only to find Joanne and Teresa sitting on a bench in front of the empty bus. Nobody else made it back yet, and here I was worried about being late!

Our final stop before heading to the airport is Mini Israel. I haven't been to this place before, and I am not sure I have missed anything. It is pretty hokey, to be honest. 350 or so miniatures of Israel greet us. I thought it would be showing more of the ancient sites, but instead a lot of the models are modern buildings, so I am less than excited once I observe the park. What is wonderful is the food, as I get to have one other thing I always like eating in Israel: Schnitzel. It is absolutely yummy, and they have done a great job preparing it. Unlike German Schnitzel, the Israeli Schnitzel is made from chicken or sometimes turkey. We enjoy one last load of hummus on our plates with our dinner. Stuffed, we lean back in our chairs and wonder how we will spend the rest of the evening until we have to leave for the airport. Next thing we know, music starts playing and a DJ encourages us to come and dance. This ought to be interesting. "Do Baptists dance?" Apparently they do, as pretty soon most of the students (and ultimately I, too!) are out on the dance floor. Even our guides are laughing, clapping, dancing and having fun. It is a blast!

Finally, we have to say goodbye, and Yossi and Tzvika take us to Ben Gurion Airport. We get in line to check in and get our duty free papers stamped, when Yael, my tour guide back in 2005 and, like the Daas family, my friend ever since, comes up behind me. I am overjoyed that she finally made it to see me - she had wanted to meet us at Mini Israel already but was delayed as she had to pick up a group of her own at the Jordanian border. She rushed home and then drove to the airport to come see me. What a delight to see my friend Yael! We exchange family updates and gifts, but our reunion is cut short by a rapidly advancing line. One big hug later and with hugs and kisses sent home with her to her husband Yair, we part ways. I need to find a way to spend more time with my friends when I come back next year, oops, time (Honey, you didn't read this, right?). I missed out on seeing some other friends totally. Passing through security becomes quite a challenge due to the gift Yael just gave me. The facial mask she gave me contains a strange-looking black stone to take off the mask, which apparently looks like it could double for a plastic explosive, judged by the length of time it takes me to clear security...

After some last minute shopping at the many shops of Ben Gurion's departure hall, open in the middle of the night, we all meet up at the El Al departure gate. There is actually a working Internet connection here, and so we all eagerly boot up our laptops to send last minute e-mails. I even get to skype with my parents in Germany who are still awake. Finally, we get on the plane. I have an aisle seat, with Don Redden sitting next to me. At the window, a young Yeshiva student originally from Boston joins us. Unlike most Yeshiva students who would probably avoid me like the plague due to my gender, this young man is eager to chat and so I find out a lot of things about life as a Yeshiva student and his personal background. As the plane lifts off, I look out the window. It is dark outside, but in my mind's eye, I see everything I know is out there throughout the darkness. It is a beautiful country with beautiful people, rough on the outside, sweet on the inside. Native born Israelis are called Sabra - prickly pear cactus. How fitting for a people who have the American frontier mentality, but in a much fresher, unadulterated manner. They make do with what they have, and they get the job done without complaining. I love this land, and I love these people, and I pray that God in His mercy will allow me to see "Next year in Jerusalem" come to reality.