Our trip is complete

At supper, I spy again the young waiter who looks like my son, but this time, corral him over to our table to show those who know my son. We all agree that he looks like him. My friend takes a photo, but the young waiter doesn't speak English, so who knows what he thinks of me!

This young waiter reminds me of my son. He probably thinks I'm a crazy old lady, though!

Here are a couple of photos of my son. Do you see a resemblance?

After supper, we meet for a debriefing and finally learn the truth about the Israeli flag. It’s as we suspected. In remembrance of the Holocaust.

This is our last full day here in the Holy Land. It's a been an awesome visit and the group really meshed well. I have made some wonderful friends and learned so much. It is hard to say good-bye to them, even Yossi, from whom we learned the most. I have tried hard to state what facts he told us correctly and remind you again that any mistakes are mine, not his.

And I would be remiss if I didn't thank our bus driver. He kept our windows clean so we could take photographs through them, he safely delivered us to some tight spaces and was always there for us.

I must reiterate again that I never once felt unsafe, despite the skirmishes Israel participated in. Israel is safe for tourists, and for the most part, its citizens just want peace. I've visited many countries, thirty-one if my count is correct, lived in five, and can say with certainty that some of those places are far less safe than Israel. Our tour companies, Christian Journeys and Ariel Tours took good care of us. 

We have a few bumps in the road returning home, just like coming here. They are all weather related. We finally arrive in New Brunswick around 3 am, and head off to our homes and our beds. 

 

Some of us got an early start on their sleeping.

I hope you've enjoyed traveling with me, and I hope you enjoy your Easter.

Inside the tomb.

He is Risen. He is Risen Indeed!

The places we know for sure Jesus walked

We depart the Temple Mount and exit at the west, weaving through a dark and dank, narrow street that would see a market in a few days, finding ourselves at the Western (Wailing) Wall. 

A narrow street leading to the Western Wall

The chanting and rocking the faithful Jews do gives them comfort, as it might for a stressed child; it doesn’t get you closer to God, the Bible tells us. 
 

It's relatively quiet at the Wailing Wall today.

The place is a beehive of activity, and yet not as crowded as it could be. In the restroom, I see women’s purses sitting outside of the cubicles and ask our team leader how they can be so trusting. 
No, the women inside are probably menstruating, I'm told. Each woman will cleanse her hands and retrieve her purse after. She must remain clean. With my friend, I visit the Wailing Wall, pray for my family and friends, and, like several Orthodox Jewish women, peek over the wall that separates the men from the women. 

I'm in the pink, praying for loved ones.

I see one older man, tall and stocky, Orthodox and praying loudly at his podium. His face is beet red and he stops his laments to drink a litre of water. Jesus warned us not to pray like those who do so in public. God wants our hearts, not fervent prayers meant to showcase your piety. 

Orthodox Jews believe the Western Wall is all that's left of the Second Temple, but the stones’ carving style indicates a much later period. Our time is short here, our guide says, but we will return. We hurry past the gate and head to the Davidson Center, weaving through the small museum until we come out at the corner of the wall.

We walk up to the Huldah’s Gate, a gate through which commoners entered the temple area, which is also near her (Huldah's) grave. She is mentioned in 2 Kings 22:14, a prophetess who warned of the destruction of the city. This is the one of the very few places we know and can prove archeologically where Jesus walked. He would have entered the Temple Mount at least three times through this gate. 

My friend, my husband and me a the Southern Gate

Kidron Valley and road to Jericho

The site of the Southern Gate at the Davidson Center

It faces south, and the brilliant sun beats down on us. Below are stark ruins, stones upon stones, softened by the occasional palm tree and patches of grass. Beyond is the City of David, the Kidron Valley, and the Jericho Road. We have to be careful where we walk, the steps are so irregular, but it’s hard not to gape around in awe at this place where Jesus would have stood, perhaps in line to enter. Did he pause and pray, for he’d already wept when he prophesied the destruction of Jerusalem, that last week before his crucifixion. It’s a spiritually moving place.

From the Davidson Center, we're taken up to the Gallicantu Church. My meagre Latin is enough to tell me why the church was built. Galli-gallo-rooster and Cantu-canto-sing. The rooster’s crow. The site of Peter’s denial. This is a church built on the remains of Caiaphas’s house, where Jesus was illegally tried after being betrayed by Judas.

The back of the Gallicantu Church with the remains of Caiaphas's house in the foreground.

Here we head straight down to the small dungeon, a well-lit, spanking clean place that had served not only as a jail for Christ on Holy Thursday, but as a cistern as well. It wouldn’t have looked a innocuous as it does today. 

 

entering The Sacred Pit

But still, we pause.