Holy Land: On the old rugged cross. . . .

This was a lyric from a song my dad greatly loved. . .and it seemed the 4+ miles we pilgrims walked today was, for me, for him and mom. That I might be here was in no small measure due to their love and upbringing, and I wanted them to share in all that I saw and experienced. . .although I think they had a front row seat to it all anyway.

Blue skies, church bells ringing on this glorious Sunday (minarets issuing periodic calls to prayer as well. . .a reminder of how central Jerusalem is to so many faiths). . .and we pilgrims retracing Jesus' steps leading to his crucifixion and resurrection. Pondering the pain and humiliation as he carried the cross through Jerusalem's crowded streets, somehow providing comfort to those seeking to ease his burdens. . .feeling his presence, and our loved ones gathered around him, as we touch places thought to be Golgotha and his burial place.

We were up close and personal with the Muslim, Armenian and Jewish quarters of the city, ending up at the Western Wall. . .the most holy place for the Jewish people. Not being their Sabbath, Gentiles are permitted to pray at the Wall and to place prayers for loved ones in the cracks. . . .only inches away do you see the thousands of such notes left daily, to which we all add our own.

The day ended on the Southern Steps, as we toured the archaeological dig just south of the Dome of the Rock. .just above the sited the City of David. Jesus taught here, and his words, his life, is all more real for all of us now.

John Smith

Below are the Teaching Steps