2004 Mission Trip to the Holy Land

This reflection on the mission trip, entitled "With God or Without God", was originally written by the Reverend Peter Haynes for his parish of St. Michael and All Angels, Corona del Mar, California.  It is reproduced here with his permission.


"With God, or without God?" - that was the choice given to Jim Rosenthal, an American, when he took his British citizenship oath. Canon Rosenthal, (former)communications officer for the Anglican Communion Office and editor of Anglican World, chose "'With God', please." Then, to place his hand upon as he took his oath, he was given possibilities including Hebrew scripture (the Old Testament), Christian scripture (the New Testament), a (whole) Bible, a Book of Mormon, the Bhagavad-Gita (the "gospel of Hinduism"), Buddha's "Four Noble Truths" and "Noble Eightfold Path", a Koran, and more. Jim, ever an Episcopalian/Anglican, chose a Book of Common Prayer!

"With God, or without God?" was the question consistently in my mind and on my heart as Norris Battin and I attended the Annual Meeting of the Compass Rose Society in London and then journeyed on to that "land" formerly called "holy" for the Compass Rose Society's "Mission Visit". At St. Andrew's House
in West London, the new headquarters and World Mission Center for our Anglican Communion, we celebrated the decade of ministry of my dear friend, The Very Rev'd Canon John L. Peterson, as Secretary General of the Anglican Consultative Council. With people from all around the United States, Canada, Britain and Hong Kong we met and heard from The Rt. Rev'd Riah Abu El-Assal, our Bishop in Jerusalem, The Most Rev'd Robin Eames Archbishop of Armagh (shown at left blessing the interior spaces of St. Andrew's House), and Primate of our Church in Ireland, and The Most Rev'd Dr. Rowan Williams our 104th Archbishop of Canterbury. Archbishop Williams talked to us in Lambeth Palace's historic crypt (quoting "Toy Story II" among other resources).

Created by the Archbishop of Canterbury, the mission of the Compass Rose Society is to support the programs and activities of the Anglican Consultative Council (ACC) which, together with the Archbishop of Canterbury, set the goals and directives for the Anglican Communion throughout the world. We accomplish these things through: providing $400,000 annually through member contributions to the ACC to support its communication efforts, responding to specific requests from the Archbishop of Canterbury or Secretary General which could include donor advised gifts; and participating in mission visits led by the Secretary General that enable us to tell the stories of fellow Anglicans/Episcopalians throughout our world-wide Communion.

We learned of ministries such as: the Anglican Observer at the United Nations; famine relief and HIV/AIDS assistance in the Diocese of the Highveld; Drama and Music ministries in the Diocese of Mpwapwa; an Anglican Study Center at Salamanca (Spain) and Christa Rey House in San Felipe, Linomar (Cuba); a bush health clinic in Katei (Nigeria); emergency food and medical supplies for the hospitals at Gaza and Nablus (Diocese of Jerusalem); ...and more!



We elected new members, including Bishop Bruno (above with the Archbishop of Canterbury), to the Society's Board. Norris and I used our tiny window of "free time" during these two days to ride the (seemingly mile-high) London Eye. Then, in the wee dark hours of a very early morning we flew to Tel Aviv via Frankfurt.

In Jerusalem we stayed at St. George's College
where I felt very much at home after three months there on a 1985 sabbatical and time there with our 1999 parish pilgrimage. I was assigned the "Bethany" room; I found this most interesting since that home of Jesus' beloveds, Mary and Martha and Lazarus, though just over the Mount of Olives from the Garden of Gethsemane and Jerusalem, is in the West Bank and now (very high) walled off from visitors like me/us. But, always looking for God's divine humor, I noted this sign
outside the Church of All Nations in the Garden of Gethsemane at the spot where the group photograph of our 1999 pilgrims was taken.

Our first day took us to Bethlehem. The two mile bus ride took us almost an hour. The previous day, a seventeen-year old high school student had put her backpack under her coat to protect it from rain; upon approaching this same checkpoint at Rachel's Tomb she was thought to be carrying explosives: there were twenty-five bullets in her dead body. When Israeli soldiers came on our bus, all we had to do was hold up our USA-Canada-Hong Kong passports for those very young folks to see: How different!

Because few people can get to Bethlehem (residents told us it had been more than four years since they had been able to make the short trip to Jerusalem), I had a few truly moving moments alone at that spot in the caves under the Church of the Nativity where Christians have remembered our Savior's birth…ever since. I bought candles to use next Christmas Eve. Our visit to the new Peace Center and Creche Museum directly in front of the Church on Manger Square was most educational. We were addressed by the Center's director and the mayor of Bethlehem.

What struck me that first day, and continued to haunt me during times in that land once called holy, were the looks in the eyes of the Palestinian Arabs, some Christian some Muslim. Such sadness! (A street vendor in Manger Square is pictured below.)
Some said, "You Americans. You come here only to see and touch holy stones, but don't care about our living people." Others thanked us profusely saying that our presence sustained their courage and let them know that people around this "fragile earth, our island home" knew of their plight and cared.

After lunch, we toured the City of David and went up Mount Scopus (from which would-be attackers had once "scoped out" Jerusalem) and the Mount of Olives to enjoy panoramic views of Jerusalem. Our guide, beloved Iyad Qumri, warned us before getting off the bus that "There are crafty pickpockets here. The only ones better are in Rome, I hear." How well I knew!

After dinner at St. George's, I wandered across Nablus Road to greet Abrahim Abu-Rakbeb of St. George's Bazaar. Abrahim is the resource providing the olive wood angels and Holy Family carvings, and other crafts, which have sold so well at our pre-Christmas Fairs the last few years (and I hope will again on December 5th). I gave him the special requests parishioners had sent along with me; he would meet all requests within that week thanking us with hugs and tears for our sustaining support during these times which are so difficult for him and his beloveds there.

On Sunday (October 10th), I worshiped at St. George's Cathedral (entrance pictured below).
At 9:30 a.m., Bishop Riah celebrated in Arabic and the Dean preached (first in English, then in Arabic); at 11:00 a.m., John Peterson celebrated and Philip Poole of Aurora, Ontario, Canada, and President of the Compass Rose Society, preached (in English!).

We had lunch in the dining room of St. George's Guest House (where our Parish's "pilgrims" stayed in l999) and met Mordaci Vanunu, an Israeli scientist who exposed Israel's nuclear weapons, for which he spent fourteen years in prison (eleven in solitary confinement). Visited in prison by Bishop Riah and priests from St. George's, he had become a Christian. Upon release, he went directly to a celebration of the Holy Eucharist and took refuge at St. George's. Still constantly watched, he is unable to leave Israel for one year. When asked how he survived in solitary confinement, Dr. Vanunu responded, "Reading the Bible aloud, and really loud, especially passages like Romans 8" (please, read).

That Sunday afternoon John Peterson took us on his unique-and-wonderful tour of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (candelabra below).
John was more definitive than I'd ever heard him be. "This is the rock of Calvary. This is the spoiled stone on which Jesus was crucified." He went on: "Jesus tomb was in the fifteen feet between the memorial edicule and burial shafts (kokhim) in the Chapel of St. Joseph of Arimathea." Thankfully, we thought and prayed at all these sites when on pilgrimage in '99.

On Sunday evening the Qumris, Iyad and Simone and their two sons, eleven-year-old Sami and ten-year-old Rami, hosted us for dinner in their home in the suburbs of Jerusalem. It was exquisite! (Even though, by that time, I'd already eaten more than my fair share of the Middle Eastern food I so enjoy.) Being in a private home in Israel was a privilege, even though we knew that at any moment a government "official" could knock on the door and claim their property for the state "for security reasons".

The next morning our bus took us from Jerusalem, which is set among hills 2400 feet above sea level, to Jericho, 825 feet below sea level and the lowest and longest occupied place on earth. Visitors have not been able to go to Jericho for four years. (Israeli checkpoint at Jericho shown below)
We were able to do so only with special permission, and only for a few hours. We toured the "tell" by the oasis once leased by Herod the Great from Cleopatra who had been given it by her paramour Mark Antony, viewed the Mount of Temptation, the long-closed casino, and the surrounding refugee camps. At a rest stop by the side of the road outside Jericho, a bus filled with Israeli teenagers pulled in next to ours. Two boys, only slightly older than the others, were their "protectors" as required by Israeli law; they carried assault rifles with the clips in! When one of those boys decided to take a ride on the ever-present camel, he threw his rifle to an even-younger boy! I was glad to leave that un-restful roadside site and head north up the Jordan River Valley.

In Nazareth we stayed at St. Margaret's Hostel
where our pilgrims stayed in '99. We visited the Church of Saint Gabriel over the well where the angel announced God's will to an astonishingly accepting Mary, the Basilica of the Annunciation (supposedly) over Mary's childhood home, and the Sisters of Nazareth whose house is built over what John Peterson said was "surely the home of Joseph and Mary and Jesus". and where, in an excavation below the living quarters, is a "kokh tomb" which John believes belonged to Joseph and his other-than-Jesus sons (below, John points to the interior of the tomb. The stone that would have been "rolled away" is immediately behind him.)
We were refreshed by the people of Christ Church, Episcopal, which is next to the Sisters of Nazareth.

We spent considerable time at the exemplary Bishop Riah School next to St. Margaret's in Nazareth
with its Headmaster, Hanna Abu El Assal, Bishop Riah's son.

But, for me, the highlights of our time in Nazareth came at and after dinners: the first night the Bishop and three priests from parishes in Haifa, Shfar'am, and Nazareth talked with us about their ministries and alliances with groups such as Galilee's Association for Human Rights; theirs made our challenges seem ...blessed! The second night twelve young people, sixteen to twenty-six years old, from those three parishes talked with us about their challenges as Arab Christians in Israel. Two young men with advanced degrees in engineering and hotel management said that they surely knew that there was no hope of being employed in their respective fields in Israel and are currently working other jobs. I will long remember one young woman saying that despite all the many pressures and reasons to leave, "Jesus didn't take any easy ways; neither will I!"

As I have during my previous two times on the north shore of the Sea of Galilee I wished that I had more time to walk the ground which Jesus surely walked. I did cover all I could as we toured Capernaum ("Jesus' 'hometown'"), Tabgha (where Jesus' feeding of the multitudes is gratefully remembered), and the cave and Mount of Beatitudes. John Peterson took us to his favorite first century synagogue in Gamla,
destroyed by the Romans in 66 A.D. and never rebuilt; Jesus most likely worshiped and preached on that spot. The highlight for me was standing in the Galilean water where Frances and I and Don stood in '99 where John 21:4-19, "the charcoal-cooked breakfast with Jesus", is remembered.

The next day, after returning to St. George's in Jerusalem, I took a walk down Salah Ed Din Street, which John Peterson calls "the 5th Avenue of East Jerusalem" (because there are all kinds of shops ...but very unlike 5th Avenue in New York City, I promise you), probably to buy some yummy fresh cashews. From the sidewalk I saw a traffic jam and heard honking horns. Then I saw police lights flash from a Jeep and heard its sirens. A young soldier jumped from the driver's seat of that Jeep and, with armed rifle at the ready, ran through the ten cars ahead of him to the car causing the blockage. Before he could get there, a Palestinian woman and two young girls (who I assumed to be her daughters) got in to their double-parked car and drove away oblivious to the armed soldier running toward them. "Whew!" I prayed.



After stopping at "The Wall" which so clearly separates citizens of Jerusalem one from another, our bus headed to Ramallah for lunch with one of the members of St. George's staff. We again saw "The Wall" (above) and how it comes between peoples' homes and their places of work. Getting through a "checkpoint"
took ninety minutes! It made Mexico-USA border crossings (and Dodger Stadium's parking lot) look so simple by comparison. Sitting in the bus waiting to cross, the regularized ritual humiliation of indigenous folk having to go through was painfully clear. In the distance we could see cars freely and rapidly traveling recently built roads to Israeli settlements, while Palestinians who had been traveling this road between Ramallah and Jerusalem for centuries were seriously and severely detained. When young soldiers, one man and one woman, came on the bus to examine our passports one-by-one, several of us spoke to them. When they heard "good afternoon" they would look up, smile and nod and, at least for a moment, we related as human being to human being, not as soldier to detainee. It was a border crossing I will never forget.

Lunch in the Khayos family's West Bank home, built on an ancient tell site, was another unforgettable privilege. The magnets on their refrigerator with photographs of family and friends reminded me of home.

Late that afternoon we went to the Palestinian Authority's compound (view from the outside below shot from the bus. No pictures allowed inside)
to meet their president, Yasser Arafat. I have long thought him an ineffectual leader, but I was struck by how compassionate and gentle he is. Upon entering the room he went around the table as each of us were introduced to him one-by-one. When Philip Poole was introduced, John Peterson told President Arafat that Philip's father (also a priest) had died earlier that day and that Philip would be returning to Toronto the next morning. That small man immediately and unabashedly reached up to kiss Fr. Poole on the forehead and both cheeks before embracing him!

For the rest of us, a handshake sufficed. He spoke to us (group photo below)
of his continuing desire for peace and agreement with the UN resolutions of the late '40s and the 1967 accords; he showed us photographs of the Virgin Mary above the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem which had apparently been used for rifle shot practice; he told of water which had been diverted from West Bank rivers being sold back to Palestinians and nuclear waste being disposed of near Nablus. After each story, his mantra was "Who can believe it?" Although I knew his stories to be truthful, they are truths "hard to believe". As we were having our photographs taken with him, one-by-one (yes, Norris and I have our pictures), Alan Weirick of our Church of Our Saviour in San Gabriel gave President Arafat a copy of Archbishop Desmond Tutu's latest book, and he immediately kissed the photo of Desmond-the-Great on the book's cover before thanking Alan.

Happily, Bishop Riah led our bus from Ramallah back to Jerusalem in the dark moonlight through the checkpoint designated for diplomats and religious leaders, like the Bishop of the Episcopal Church in Jerusalem and the Middle East; so we did not have to again endure the delay we experienced on our way into the West Bank, the humiliation Palestinian residents experience day-after-day. This was one of several times during our trip that I was thankful for Bishop Riah. He is a wonderful man, deeply committed to Christ and to serving his people. As I have done often, I once again recommend to you his book, Caught In Between: The Extraordinary Story of an Arab Palestinian Christian Israeli.

The next day, the day before Ramadan, the ninth month of the Muhammadan year observed as sacred with fasting practiced from dawn to sunset, we toured Haram esh-Sharif
and the Muslim Quarter with Dr. Ali Qleibo, a professor and artist born in Jerusalem and an articulate exponent of everyday Palestinian life. Having taught across the world, he is truly a Jerusalemite; I have his book, Jerusalem in the Heart, which he inscribed to me, "To Peter - Hoping that you return to a peaceful Jerusalem - God Bless! I will hope and pray and do what I am able to make that happen."

After lunch at the Ecce Homo Sisters I used my "free time" to visit sites which had moved me on previous pilgrimages: Saint Peter's in Gallicantu Church over Caiaphas' house which may have served as Jesus prison, the Church of St. Anne and the pools of Bethesda, the Jewish and Armenian Quarters (where I was treated to young men wearing yarmulkes playing American football outside Jerusalem's 15th century walls), and several churches and shops in the Christian Quarter.

Our final day in Jerusalem began with walking the way of the cross, the Via Dolorosa, with John Peterson. What a treat! If you have not read his A Walk in Jerusalem: Stations of the Cross, there are copies available in Michael's Room. Then we went to one of several of the Episcopal/Anglican ministries in Jerusalem like the Spafford Children's Center in the Old City, the Princess Basma Women's Health Centre on the Mount of Olives and the wonderful "Kids4Peace" interfaith education ministry in which both Qumri boys are leaders.

The afternoon ended with an outdoor Eucharist
at Latrun, one of the four possible sites for the Emmaus of Luke 24:13ff. Since no one really knows where "Emmaus" is, it was delightful to ponder Emmaus as Corona del Mar and the risen Lord being with us here and now.

So, "With God, or without God?" Our journey to London and the land once called holy was both...