Part VI, Holy Land

Ein Karem and Bethlehem

May 27, 2022

Dear Friends,

Another week has gone by and it is time for another letter about the Holy Land pilgrimage. Last week I wrote about Mount Tabor, the Jordon River, and Jericho. This week will be about the Nativity.

We were at this time staying at a hotel in Jerusalem called, The Olive Tree Hotel. From here we traveled about 40 minutes by bus to Ein Karem, the place where Mother Mary’s cousin, Elizabeth, and her husband, Zechariah, lived. I am using the Hebrew spelling for Zacharias. It is thought they had two houses here. One in the village where their son, John the Baptist was born, and a summer house up on a hill near the village. The one on the hill is the place where it is believed that Mother Mary came to visit her cousin, Elizabeth, when Mary was pregnant with Jesus.

Ein Karem is a beautiful historic mountain village that now sits on the outskirts of Jerusalem. Unlike the desert area, this village and surrounding hills have lots of trees and less tension, and the village itself has a creative vibe. People seem more relaxed here and because I had just been to Jericho and the desert the day before, I noticed there was lots of shade. This is perhaps why Elizabeth and Zechariah chose this place as their home. Zechariah was a wealthy priest who traveled back and forth between Ein Karem and the temple in Jerusalem. He would have been able to afford two houses, one in the village and one on top of the hill to use during the hot summer months to stay cool.

We went first to the Monastery of St. John in the Mountains; which is located in the village. This monastery is built around the place where it is thought Elizabeth and Zechariah’s home was in the village and where St. John the Baptist was born. Like the other homes from biblical times, this house would have either been a cave, or partially a cave, and it is thought that in this cave, now encircled by the church inside the monastery, the birth of St. John the Baptist took place.

Surprisingly we were the only pilgrims there, but this may have been due to it being early in the day. This church was nothing like I had seen before. Inside the walls were covered in beautiful blue and white tiles and the first thing I thought of was the tiles used in the Netherlands- very similar color of blue and very like some of the designs I have seen in Amsterdam. It wasn’t until I looked closely that I saw that there were several different designs on these tiles because at first glance they all looked the same.

Around the side of the High Altar was a cave with another Altar up next to the opening. Beneath this Altar was the stone believed to be where St. John the Baptist was born. In order to venerate this sacred spot, we each had to get down on our hands and knees to reach below the Altar to touch this stone.

Afterward, we came back out into the sunshine and began our walk up the hill to the Church of the Visitation, which stands on the place where Elizabeth and Zechariah’s summer house would have been. As we walked up the hill we said the Rosary, five of us each taking a decade to say it out loud. Along the way we envisioned Mother Mary making her way up this hill to see Elizabeth, six months pregnant at the time. It was quite a steep climb, and I wondered how she had felt walking up this hill being pregnant, but back then I know they were used to walking in all sorts of conditions.

The church at the top is modern with a mosaic of the Visitation just above the outside entrance. Inside the walls were covered in five frescos dedicated to Mother Mary. Walking through this portion of the church, we followed Father John and Youssef down some dark steps into the lower church where there is an ancient spring. Here Youssef said, according to tradition, is where Mother Mary greeted Elizabeth and a spring burst out of the rock. Close by there is a stone, known as the “Stone of Hiding”, set into an alcove. There is a story that this stone opened up during the Massacre of the Infants and Elizabeth and her infant, St. John the Baptist, were able to hide concealed inside so the soldiers could not find them.

These stories about the spring coming forth out of the rock and the rock opening up to conceal Elizabeth and the infant, St. John the Baptist, were new to me. I had never heard this before. After exploring the church, we walked back down the hill to our bus and headed to Bethlehem.

Like yesterday, the 30-minute drive from Ein Karem took us through a barren landscape. Gone were the green hills around Ein Karem. Arriving at Bethlehem I found, again like yesterday, the city was located in the Palestinian area, like Jericho. I suppose had I done my research prior to the trip I would have known this. Once again, we had to drive past the border patrol, but they did not stop us.

Bethlehem was very different than I expected. I thought it would still be this little village, preserved somehow, being as important as it was to the Christian faith. However, it was a lot like Jericho, rundown and dusty. It was also a city and not a village. At the Church of the Nativity, we got off the bus.

Youssef explained to us that this church is the oldest complete church in the Christian world. It also has a complex religious identity in that it is almost completely Greek Orthodox now, except the Roman Catholics are responsible for the Chapel of the Manger and the Altar next to the Nativity grotto and the Armenian Orthodox church takes care of the front transept. This “sharing” of the Church of the Nativity is taken very seriously and each candle even has to be lit only by the order that is responsible for that area. They never share tasks, every part of the church carefully guarded by its own branch of Catholicism.

As you walk into the church, there are beautiful Greek Orthodox lamps in different colors hanging from the ceiling, and the Greek Orthodox monks and priests, wearing long flowing black gowns with tall black hats, walk around. This church is very sacred because it is built on top and around the cave/stable where it is believed Jesus was born.

It does not say in the bible that Jesus was born in a cave, however, there are written documents that refer to the Nativity Cave all the way back to 160 A.D. As I have said before, it seems a lot of dwellings from biblical times were either a cave or incorporated with a cave as part of the main living area. So, it makes sense that the stables were also caves.

Youssef went on to say that this church is not the first church built here on this sacred site. The first church was built around 339 A.D. and was dedicated to Constantine the Great. You can still see some of the original tiles from the earlier church.

We followed the other groups of pilgrims to a narrow set of steps and then down through a very low stone archway that leads into the Chapel of the Manger. This archway, or tunnel actually, was originally built this way to keep out wagons used by looters, with the intention of plundering the sacred site. Christians, however, respect this low doorway because one has to bow to come into the sacred place of Jesus’s birth. They believe it is appropriate to bow low just as Jesus came low to come to earth as a man. After passing through this tunnel, we were able to stand upright, and I found myself in a small room, a chapel, made of stone in front of the small cave.

Inside this small chapel there was, in front of the cave, an Altar, and underneath the Altar was a 12-pointed star on the floor with a hole in the middle. You had to get down on the rock floor and then place your hand down inside the hole and touch the rock floor below. This is the spot believed to be where Jesus was born.

When it was my turn, I touched this stone with my rosary. Like at the Jordon River, I wanted this to be special, but I found it hard to feel anything spiritual because, to tell the truth, I have very sore knees, and being down like that on stone was very uncomfortable. Plus, I had a long line of waiting pilgrims waiting behind me. I know these thoughts are not what I was supposed to be thinking, but that is what I was thinking.

After this, we all filed up the stairs to a private chapel inside the church where we could have Mass. I felt disappointed. I had not felt anything at the Manger, but I told myself that was due to the situation with my knees and the crowd. I wanted some time to think. I did have some time for this while Father John readied himself and the Altar for Mass and so I wrote in one of the pews away from the others in my group. The Father said, “Child, you have given me much hope for the future of mankind and you. Be at peace for love is all around and in you. Remember, Jody, this is a new beginning and a happy one for your future is secure and set. All is in place and you are always to remain with me.”

I felt better then and sighed a breath of relief. Not because I thought I had done something wrong by not feeling anything, but that all was set for the future. I also thought fleetingly of the 12-pointed star because it had played such a significant part in my earlier spiritual experiences before Ron passed away. Memories of the star came back, but I couldn’t remember every detail of what I needed to know about this star. I would store this thought until I could look back on my previous writings when I got home.

Father John said the Mass and about halfway through announced that it was the custom in this church at Mass to kiss the baby Jesus. This took me by surprise as I watched Youssef bring a doll up the aisle. I felt rooted to the ground as all of the pilgrims in my group lined up to kiss the doll. I couldn’t do it. This is one of those moments when I knew for certain I could not be fully Catholic. Kiss a doll? It screamed Wrong! to me, not to mention unsanitary. I was surprised at this extreme side of Catholicism. I saw the other pilgrims slightly glance at me, as did Father John, but I just stood there and they carried on.

I knew then and now that they were not kissing the doll in their belief but Jesus because the doll represented Him. In their hearts and minds, they were kissing the baby Jesus. I was shocked at how deep this refusal to kiss the doll went down into me. Kissing this doll, venerating it, seemed so wrong, even though I told myself they were in their hearts kissing Jesus. I was confused as well because as my thoughts began to sift, I realized that that is how they saw all the statues in the church. Like I said in a previous letter, I understood how energy worked, and I knew the doll had probably been blessed, as well as these statues. However, I had convinced myself when I first became Catholic that the statues in the churches were like photos in a home. They helped the person to focus and remember. The statues, like photos, represented Jesus, Mother Mary, and the saints- but they knew they were not Jesus, Mother Mary, or the saints. Therefore, I had told myself, it was not idol worship. Somehow, however, this kissing the doll took it a step deeper into an area I balked at. I suddenly saw the Catholic Church in a different light. I felt very confused, and therefore, internally upset as we left Mass.

I don’t remember much after getting on the bus after that, my thoughts were in disarray. I know for many in my group the Church of the Nativity was the highlight of their pilgrimage. We went to lunch, which was a blur to me and then to this place that sold Christian items made by the Christians in Bethlehem. Youssef encouraged us, if we wanted souvenirs from the Holy Land, to purchase them here. He explained to us the items were made by the Christians here in Bethlehem and they were trustworthy. We could use our credit cards and have them ship our items without worry, which is not the same everywhere. So, I purchased a beautiful hand-carved sculpture of Jesus on the boat calming the water on the Sea of Galilee and another carving of the Lion of Judah with the lamb next to it. Most of the group bought a nativity set, which I originally thought I would do, but I did not care for any of them. However, I knew the Sea of Galilee had been my favorite connection with the Father here in the Holy Land.

I wondered then, in my confused state, would these carvings be considered an idol? No, I told myself, I would never venerate them. – And I knew Jesus probably had not looked like this. It was simply an art piece, a souvenir.

That evening, back at the hotel in Jerusalem, I was still thinking about the doll at the Church of the Nativity and because of this, other questions emerged. As I had mentioned in a previous letter, at this time on the pilgrimage, I was still trying hard to be Catholic, but I was realizing that what I truly felt was right was battling hard against some of what Catholicism teaches. I was thinking and weighing all this, remembering who I was before I became Catholic, before Ron’s passing away, what the Father had taught me as well as what He was teaching me now. These teachings now were in perfect line with what He had taught me before only He had broadened the picture with Jesus/Yeshua.

I did know I wanted to connect with God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit here in Jerusalem. I wanted to understand the great Mysteries around the Crucifixion, Resurrection, and Ascension. I had over the last couple of years struggled greatly with the concept of how the Catholics delve so deeply into Jesus’s suffering whereas other Christians focus on the Resurrection. Indeed, the whole Lent process in the Catholic Church is very… how do I say it? Mysterious, frightening, biblical. If you really follow the path that they lead you on, it becomes very dark in a way, but not evil. I understood that this was so that one can follow in the steps of Jesus, experiencing in a very small way what He suffered. Then with the dawning of Easter, experience more fully the Resurrection, made all the more glorious after the suffering. I had, back in 2016, followed a daily Catholic meditation guide that led the reader through this process. It became so involved in the suffering of Jesus that I ran. Mentally and emotionally, I ran from the church. I never felt the same about the Catholic church after that and had been trying to find my way back since.

After Jericho the day before and then after visiting the Church of the Nativity, I was so deep in thought that as you can see, I completely forgot to take pictures. I forgot at both Ein Karem and in Bethlehem, and I only took a few inside the Church of the Nativity. That is why there are so few photos with this letter. This also brings me to something I need to mention. I don’t think it is right to take pictures of sacred places- like inside churches. I feel it is disrespectful. I had been taking them for this website against my better judgment but you will notice after this day I will no longer have pictures directly of sacred places- only the outside areas. I believe when one is in a sacred place that is where the mind should be focused on. So, while inside the Church of the Nativity, while taking pictures, this intense feeling came over me and I stopped taking pictures remembering this promise that I had made years ago not to take pictures in holy places. I hope you understand.

I prayed that night in Jerusalem to the Father that He guide me on what He wanted me to understand and know about the Crucifixion, Resurrection, and the Ascension. What He wanted me to know- not what other people say is true.

The next few days would give me some answers that I was not expecting.

In the morning I would go with the group to the Mount of Olives and this is what I will write about next week. Our visit to the Church of the Pater Noster where Jesus taught the disciples how to pray the “Our Father”. The Dominus Flevit Church (“The Lord Wept”), where Jesus became angry looking down on the selling of merchandise in the area of the Temple; which was His Father’s house, and the Garden of Gethsemane. Have a lovely week. God Bless- Jody