By Trish Leonard
There were times throughout the days spent in the Holy Land that felt beyond the bounds of earthly reality. After several postponements from the initially scheduled dates of travel in 2023, finally being on the land and in the marked places where Jesus walked felt surreal and more than I could grasp.
Every moment of every day was filled with sacred moments, places, and people, evoking in me a sense of wonder, awe, gratitude, and an intimate connection to my fellow pilgrims, to our guides, and to all those who the Spirit saw fit to put in our path. From small, chance encounters, to those people with whom we were engaged with as part of the day’s activities or with whom we shared conversation, I felt an overwhelming sense of God’s presence—even during those times of fear and anxiety while we sheltered at St. George’s guest house during Iran’s retaliatory attacks. These are all moments that will forever impact how I see Scripture, places that will be forever etched in my memory and the nine fellow pilgrims who will forever share a part of my sacred journey.
A walk to Damascus Gate and Salah Eldin Street on the first day in Jerusalem gave us a feel for our surroundings and the distance from St. George’s Guest House, our home base for the next several days. That evening before dinner, a small group of us found our way to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, also known as the Church of the Resurrection. I was in one of Christianity’s most sacred shrines as the site of Jesus’ crucifixion on Golgotha (Calvary). I saw the marble slab near the main entrance that protected the burial site beneath which Jesus’ body was anointed and ultimately resurrected. It’s impossible to capture that first moment of reverence and awe, that took my breath and any descriptive language away. We did tour more of the shrine again another day, and Bishop Jeff’s special blessing that day at the anointing slab surely surrounded us all in the presence of Christ and filled the empty spaces in our hearts with the sacred and holy.
It would be nearly impossible for me to capture every day’s Spirit-sanctified moments on these pages. Over those 11 days, I felt overwhelmed with the enormity of time and space, history and story, peoples and places that had been made real, that had been made more real to me. So, I will share a few of the places that have held the most significance for me:
Singing with One Voice
The first place was an excavated site, historically known to be the Pools of Bethesda, where Jesus healed the paralytic man who had tried to find his way to its healing waters for 38 years. As we all found our way along a path in silence, Fr. Ryan laid hands and prayed after which Bishop Jeff blessed and anointed us with healing oil. And on the same piece of land is the Church of St. Anne, built in 450 A.D., that is known not only as where Mary, the mother of Jesus was born, but also for having the most beautiful acoustics, where we all joined our voices, the sound magnified, praising God. We were in a space that held all the voices of visitors past, present, and those yet to come, raised together as one, and what a powerful moment that was.
Water, Water Everywhere
The Sea of Galilee and the Jordan River and the power of their histories flow with the stories of John the Baptist and Jesus. Along the banks of the Jordan, we shared a service of renewal of our Baptismal vows as we were sprinkled with the waters of the same river in which Jesus began his ministry. All of us will carry that water and that experience with us forever.
The Breaking of the Bread
We shared the Eucharist many times over the course of 11 days. At St. George’s Cathedral in Jerusalem, in a beautiful, light-filled main space for worship, and a chapel where each night we gathered for worship and reflection on what was most meaningful in the day. But, it was along the shores of the Sea of Galilee where we were shared a Eucharist like no other I have ever experienced. It was a sacred space and holy time that can never be recreated with 9 other people whose paths of faith intersected and who were united forever by the transforming power of Christ’s love.
As I continue to reflect on the many experiences that were part of this sacred time in my life’s journey, there will be other moments that will touch me in different ways. The big question that confronts me now is this; in my search for understanding, where is it that I may hear God’s voice and where is it leading me? There was a prayer waiting for me in my email the day that we returned home, written by Henri Nouwen titled “Speak Gently in my Silence,” from With Open Hands, that will continue to speak to me in however long that search takes:
“Dear Lord,
Speak gently in my silence.
When the loud outer noises of my surroundings and the loud inner noises of my fears keep pulling me away from you, help me to trust that you are still there even when I am unable to hear you. Give me ears to listen to your small, soft voice saying: “Come to me, you who are overburdened, and I will give you rest ….. for I am gentle and humble of heart.” Let that loving voice be my guide. Amen.”
