Tour of sites connected to life of Jesus strengthens intent to follow his teachings
Backdrop of war can't help but influence perspective on visit to Holy Land
Faithful Muslims have an obligation to make a pilgrimage to Mecca at least once during their lifetime if they are physically and financially able. Christians have no similar obligation to take a pilgrimage to visit sítes associated with the life of Jesus Christ, but perhaps they should.
Visiting key sites in the Holy Land during the past week gave me renewed appreciation for the life and Earth-changing, often radical, teachings of Jesus — even though there are very few places that can be identified with Jesus with close to historical certainty. Perhaps the place where one can say “I walked where Jesus walked” and be most likely to be correct is an unmarked corner at a wall, a location that, archaeologists tell us, was once at an arch that served as the entry to the plaza of the Jerusalem temple that was in use during the life of Jesus. (The temple was destroyed in 70 CE, and the site today is occupied by the Dome of the Rock, one of the most important holy sites of Islam. That makes the contested site prized by the three major Abrahamic religions: Christianity, Judaism and Islam.)
While the various sites that draw pilgrims to Israel, even now at a time of war that has all but erased their numbers, may not be historically precise, they in a sense have been made “real” by the Christians who have been traveling to the sites since the 300s. The Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem were first built in the fourth century after Crusaders claimed to have determined where Jesus was born and resurrected; they were later rebuilt in the sixth and 11th centuries respectively. For many of those who stand in long lines waiting to approach and sometimes even touch the holiest of places in the Christian faith, the spiritual experience is real.
For me, the sites that seemed the most real were various ruins as well as outdoor locations that exist in vaguely what might have been their state in the first century: rock structures that outline first-century-era buildings, a hillside representing the Sermon on the Mount, and a wooded garden representing the Garden of Gethsemane. It was those places were I could most easily imagine Jesus talking to or preaching to his followers.
And I couldn't help but recall Jesus’ words that are so needed in the world today: Love your enemies. Pray for those who persecute you. Treat others as you wish to be treated. If someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, give him your coat as well. If someone forces you to go a mile, go with him for two. Why do you see the speck in your brother's eye but fail to see the beam of wood in your own? Do not worry about tomorrow. Do not make a show of your piety. Do not be like the hypocrites. As you have done to the least of these, you have done to me.
Although I saw few signs of the ongoing war other than the the dearth of tourists or pilgrims, and the occasional sign with pictures of Israeli hostages being held by Hamas, signs of the war were absent from my sight as long as I avoided news media. But the war was something I could not (and did not try to) eliminate from my mind, especially after I was rushed into a bomb shelter while waiting in an passport control line at the Tel Aviv airport about half an hour after my arrival. (A Houthi missile, which caused limited damage, had been aimed at Terminal 3, which is used for international arrivals.)
And so it was that as I focused on the words and ministry of Jesus, I also was reminded of a modern hymn I have at times sung in church: "Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me," it begins. I am helpless to change the course of the war that was triggered by a senseless massacre on Oct. 7, 2023, and continues today with a humanitarian disaster in Gaza. But I can do something, as the song suggests, by following the words of Jesus. Peace begins in our homes and in our personal relationships as we recognize the divinity among God's children, all of God's children, not just the people who are like us.
Seeing the places that Christians throughout the centuries have recognized as connected with Jesus has strengthened my resolve to do as Christ taught.
But what about travel to Israel?
I can't publish this essay and say nothing about the elephant in the room: Is it even moral for a Christian to travel to Israel and thus lend support to a political entity that has crossed the line from self-defense to something that has become indefensible?
I don't have a good answer to that question; it is certainly something I thought about before making the final decision to go.
I'll admit that I don't have an answer that will satisfy any of those who lambasted me on social media for taking the trip. Anything I might say is going to sound like an excuse, or worse, both-sides-ism. In my mind, there certainly is no justification for those pro-Palestinian views that call for the elimination of Israel1, and that seemed to be where most of the criticism came from. I’m not from the camp that says the Palestinians can do no wrong; the October 2023 massacre violated all norms of decency. But in my view, so is what is happening now, where starvation and displacement of civilians has become a strategy.
For better or worse, I made my decision to travel with recognition of the complexity of the situation, a recognition that increased during my travel rather than diminish. Despite what the Israeli government does, the fact is that Israeli support for the war is weak at best. Many of the personal connections I had made during my travels were with Israeli Muslims and Christians, not the constituencies known for their support of the Israeli military hardliners. I saw, and supported, numerous examples of interpersonal relationships between Israeli Jews and the religious minorities. And I found that Israeli Palestinians welcomed my business.
Is that enough to make Christian pilgrims to Israel something other than de facto supporters of Israel's effort? I don't know, and I can't see matters such as this in black-and-white terms; very seldom do any of us act with pure motives when facing the nuanced decisions of life.
My quick view of the political situation is that I support a two-state solution.