Here you can browse through my blog posts prior to February 2022. Currently I'm sharing my travel experiences, candid opinions, and what's on my mind solely on my Facebook page. — Rick
Late on my first night in Palestine, after dinner with my guides, I came back to my hotel and met a dozen Lutheran pastors in the lobby. They were heading into a 2,000-year-old cave, upon which the hotel was built, for a devotion service and invited me along. I was really tired but followed my current travel ethic: If an opportunity presents itself, say “Yes.”
The pastors were just finishing a multi-year Pastoral Leadership Institute program. Their theme (as taught by English church leader Mike Breen): up, in, and out (“up” is relationship with God, “in” is relationship with community, “out” is outreach beyond their immediate community). I climbed down into the cave with them and enjoyed a wonderful hour of singing, reading, and sharing.
While our image of “no room at the inn” is brick and wood, the “inn” of Bible fame was very likely a series of caves. And “no room” meant a woman about to give birth would not be welcome in the main quarters, as it was an unclean thing. Mary was sent to the manger cave where the animals hung out to give birth to Jesus.
The next day I told my guide about the wonderful evening. He said, “Yes, but if you hear it as much as me, it is annoying.” Nearly all the tourism in Palestine is religious tourism.
If you can’t see the video below, watch it on YouTube.
If there was no border or traffic to deal with, you could bicycle from the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem to the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem in 15 minutes. Bethlehem is not a pretty town but it has a special energy. Most homes and businesses stand behind security walls and fences. The Arab market is colorful. And the skyline is a commotion of satellite dishes, minarets, and church spires.
Bethlehem is a ramshackle Arab city — sacred to both Christians and Muslims. At the main intersection, cars circle a memorial to locals (terrorists or freedom fighters, depending on your perspective) who are locked up in Israel doing life in prison.
Of course, Bethlehem is important to Christians because it is the birthplace of Jesus. Half of the Christians in the West Bank live in Bethlehem. In Palestine a century ago, about 20 percent of the people were Christian — now it’s not quite 2 percent of the population. There’s a Palestinian Christian diaspora, and hundreds of thousands now live in South America. Palestine was part of the Ottoman Empire until the end of WWI in 1918. During that war, most Palestinian Christians fled the draft — since the Ottomans were neither Arab nor Christian, these Arab Christians saw no reason to fight in their army.
Bethlehem’s skyline is decorated by steeples and minarets.
Because Palestinian Christians have been leaving in large numbers for years, the prospect of holy sites like Jerusalem and Bethlehem being without local Christians is looming as a real possibility. The Christians who remain in Palestine are mostly Greek Orthodox. Ecumenism is now necessary and embraced within the shrinking Christian community. With the rise of Islamists across the region making parishioners nervous, the church needs people to stay. Christian leaders meet monthly with Muslim imams to discuss growing extremism in the Muslim community.
Pilgrims wait to touch, kiss, and pray upon the spot where Jesus is believed to have been born. In the year 326, Roman Emperor Constantine sent his mother, St. Helena, to establish three churches in the Holy Land: Church of the Nativity, Holy Sepulcher, and one on the Mount of Olives. Today, Bethlehem’s Church of the Nativity is oldest because the others were destroyed, then rebuilt.
Not all Arabs are Muslims, a fact that surprises some. When meeting an Arab Christian, many tourists ask when their family was converted. The answer is usually, “About 2,000 years ago, back when Jesus’ disciples were doing missionary work around here.”
In Palestine, attempts are made to keep minorities (meaning non-males and non-Muslims) in places of importance. The Minister of Tourism — both a Christian and a woman — is a two-fer. (Composing only about 2 percent of the population, Christians actually contribute substantially to Palestinian society.) Both the Israeli and Palestinian ministries of tourism are supportive of my work (producing a TV show about the West Bank), because tourism is potentially a big economic boost on both sides of the border.
Bethlehem could be considered the fourth most holy site in Islam, as Muslims consider Jesus a major prophet and have a special reverence for Mary, who has a big role in the Koran. Because of the tension between Israel and Palestine, most Arab Muslims are not allowed to visit Bethlehem. But when things settle down, it’ll become a big pilgrimage destination for Muslims, and that will be helpful for the struggling economy.
This is the barrier, from the Israel side, that divides Jerusalem and Bethlehem. Every day, Arabs with special clearance pass through here for better-paying jobs in Israel.
Leaving Israel I took a cab to the Security Barrier, then walked through the lonely no man’s land, which reminded me of the US-Mexico border between San Diego and Tijuana. Once across, I hopped into one of the many Palestinian cabs waiting on the Arab side of the wall for the quick ride into downtown Bethlehem. Jerusalem and Bethlehem are just minutes apart… except for the nasty border.
I checked into my Dar Annadwa guesthouse (run by the Lutheran Church and a great place to call home in Bethlehem) and within minutes met two of the three guides I’d hired for my week in Palestine (Hassam Jubran and Kamal Mukarker). Organizing my time in advance was tough because I couldn’t really know just how complicated getting around would be.
Hassam and Kamal took me to a tourist-friendly restaurant called “The Tent.” It posted a “families only” sign so they could turn away rowdy young men. I guess we looked harmless enough as they let us right in.
We sat down and an impressive array of Palestinian plates appeared. We enjoyed a great meal, and planned our itinerary. The Palestinian beer, Taybeh, was excellent. And I think I laughed more in my first two hours in the West Bank than I did in the entire past week.
If you can’t see the video below, watch it on YouTube.
Israel feels as affluent as the USA. There is the ever-present security dimension of the country, which is hard to escape but after a while becomes routine. Flying in and crossing borders comes with lots of questions and amazing security (although I could leave my shoes on and take my water bottle through airport security). I felt very safe. There is no language barrier. And the infrastructure for travel and tourism is about like what you’d find in Europe. Distances are short, taxis are plentiful, Wi-Fi is everywhere. It felt about as expensive as one of the cheaper European countries. The weather was great this time of year (what you’d expect in California in the spring) and there were almost no tourist crowds — except at popular pilgrimage sights, which could be mobbed.
Now I’ll cross Israel’s “Security Fence” and enter a land where that fence is called “The Wall” — Palestine. I had great guides in Israel who gave me that country’s perspective. I’ll have three different guides for about a week of travel in Palestine to give me its peoples’ viewpoints. It promises to be quite a powerful experience. Please share my invitation to any friends curious about this part of the world — ask them to like me here on Facebook and travel along. Shalom.
Patriotic parades with plenty of Israeli flags circled Jerusalem’s old town as Israel celebrated 65 years of independence.
The second Jewish Diaspora began in A.D. 70. That’s when the Roman Empire defeated the Jewish rebels at Masada, then destroyed the main Jewish temple and exported the defeated Jews as slaves. Jewish civilization was scattered for centuries until finally, in 1948, they had an official homeland to return to. During my visit, Israel celebrated 65 years of independence.
It is national policy to welcome all Jews into Israel. Its “law of return” welcomes immigrants with grants and loans, subsidized housing, and classes to facilitate their assimilation. No matter how poor, foreign, and rough the returning Jew may be, the program expects to create well-educated, Hebrew-speaking Israelis out of his family within two generations. Israel claims to have successfully absorbed at least a million penniless refugees this way.
I was told that when President Obama visited last month, every Israeli girl fell in love. (“How nice, how charming he was.”) Many considered him naïve in his first term and now more mature. My guide said, “His advisors had him very well prepared. He pushed all the right buttons.” His charisma charmed the Israeli media.
The tradition each Independence Day in Israel is for friends and families to have big barbecue feasts.We made new friends who invited us home for a family Independence Day party. It’s easy to find yourself welcomed into an Israeli home on this festive day.Our friend’s daughter was newly married and shared photos of her amazing, over-the-top wedding. With many Israeli families newly immigrated from a wide array of countries, a wedding — designed to please all involved — invariably includes a mix of old country traditions.
