In January, I made a solidarity visit to our siblings in the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem, bringing with me the love and support of the Anglican Church of Canada. The situation faced by Palestinian Christians—and Palestinians in general—is extremely challenging. As I spoke about in my interview with the Anglican Journal, evidence of the intention to occupy, inhabit and control Palestinian territory is everywhere. This is expressed in highly visible ways, like the devastation of Gaza and major roads dividing the West Bank, and in the less visible but perennial inconveniences faced by Palestinians across the region.
I have been privileged to lead several pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and, especially now, I encourage anyone who is able to sign up for one of the attractive pilgrimages offered by our partners at St. George’s College Jerusalem. Pilgrimages support our Palestinian siblings economically, socially, spiritually—and politically. My dear friend, Archbishop Hosam Naoum of Jerusalem, often says that “the population of Christians in the Holy Land increases every time a pilgrim group comes.” Engaging with local Christians—the “living stones” of Palestine and Israel—is an essential part of pilgrimages with St. George’s College.
The spiritual centre of a pilgrimage is the opportunity to experience the “Fifth Gospel” as it is proclaimed by the sun, wind, water and stones of the places where the life, death and resurrection of Jesus happened. Jerusalem is the core of this Fifth Gospel, as it is the historic and geographic centre of Easter. Jesus of Nazareth, who had been killed on a cross on a hill called Golgotha and laid in a nearby tomb, was somehow raised into an entirely new relationship with his disciples after his death. The rabbi from Galilee became the Risen Christ in Jerusalem, and the good news of God’s indestructible hope and love for all people spread from Jerusalem to every corner of the earth.
The emotional climax of a pilgrimage is a visit to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, where generations of pilgrims have remembered the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. It takes a moment to realize that this large, complex building sits on what was once an abandoned stone quarry, with a rocky rise—Golgotha—and many tombs. Over the years, almost everything was carted away, and chapels were built around the top of Golgotha and the tomb where Jesus was buried—the places where Jesus died on a cross and rose from the dead.
A massive rotunda is in the middle of this sprawling church, and beneath it is a chapel called the Aedicule, which contains the remnant of the tomb where the resurrection of Jesus is believed to have happened. It is all larger than life, swarming with Christians from all over the world, and it communicates a kind of robust sacredness: whatever happened there speaks to some power, some creative force that is beyond anything we can comprehend, yet just beneath the surface of what we can see and know. A kind of ancient and eternal strength.
The resurrection of Jesus tells us that the hope we need to sustain us in this life can never be destroyed. The resurrection is the most profound statement of God’s abundant, gracious love: there is always more than we can see, there are always more possibilities for life, there is always hope—for everyone.
May you always be aware of that robust love and indestructible hope, may it abide deeply in the hearts and minds of our beloved siblings in the Holy Land, and may it inform the consciences and decisions of leaders who can bring lasting and just peace to all who dwell there.