Palm Sunday, and a little town called Bethlehem

On Sunday, I joined a Palm Sunday processional with Christian pilgrims from around the world. Together we walked from Bethphage to Jerusalem to commemorate Christ’s entry into the city the week before he was crucified. The weather was absolutely gorgeous and sunny – even hot – and as we gathered to start the processional Palestinians sold palm fronds to carry as we marched. Among our group at least, it became somewhat of a competition to see who could find the biggest branch. Mine was not very large, but it braided and crinkled, and I thought it looked unique.

There really were a lot of people, many of who had come to Jerusalem for Easter and to participate in the walk. It was fun to try and pick out as many languages as we could. I heard Russian, French, Polish, Spanish and English among others. Some groups wore bright yellow caps to recognize each other as many tour groups do, and others just blended in as we did. But no matter what language or denomination, it was special to be with thousands of people who have a similar belief in Christ.

The walk, which takes about half an hour under normal circumstances, probably took about two hours with the crowd. We walked down streets that were sometimes narrow and all I could see around me were people’s heads and palm branches – that’s the trouble with being short – however as we rounded a corner and the road sloped down I got a glimpse of the beautiful Dome of the Rock and the Old City as well as the throng of people snaking towards it.

The processional was definitely a joyful one, just as it would have been joyful when Christ rode into Jerusalem on a donkey and the people welcomed him as their Messiah. Our walk ended at Saint Anne’s church, which is along the Via Dolorosa and we mingled and danced to the live music that was being broadcast over loudspeakers. Someone described it as a Christian version of Woodstock, which I thought was rather accurate (minus the drugs of course). Nevertheless, my Palm Sunday experience in Jerusalem will be one that I will never forget.

BETHLEHEM
After celebrating the last week of Christ’s life on Sunday, today we went back to the very beginning in Bethlehem. We weren’t sure at first if we would be allowed to go to the West Bank because there have been strikes in response to the four political leaders that were recently killed in Bethlehem, but security decided we would be safe.

We started by visiting Bethlehem University with our Modern Near Eastern Studies teacher, Professor Adnan Mussalam who works there. Bethlehem University is fairly small – just under three thousand students – but it is internationally accredited and serves both Muslims and Christians. My favourite part of our tour was a question and answer forum with four of the students. It was definitely eye opening to get their perspective and to hear what daily life is like in Palestine. For example, for those who have to commute from say, Hebron, it can take up to two hours with checkpoints, which are always unpredictable. Overall, though it was clear they have grown up under occupation, they say they have to be optimistic.

We then went over to Nativity Square where we visited the oldest standing church in the Holy Land, built in the traditional spot of the grotto or stable where Christ was born. To be honest, at first I was a little bit disappointed. The church is very orthodox in style and when we went down to the grotto I felt nothing. They mark the spot where Christ was born and where the manger was but I couldn’t help but feel sceptical that that was the place. On the other side of the church is another small cave that felt a little more authentic and we had a chance to sing a few hymns – Christmas carols actually – and that made it a little bit better. I had also passed a mass and heard the congregation singing hymns, and I realized that it wasn’t so much about where the exact spot was where Christ was born, but that his message was still very much alive and that people are still coming to know him.

To conclude our day, we went to a little shepherd’s field where we ate our picnic dinners and then heard the Christmas story in approximately the same place the shepherds would have been when the angel appeared to them and declared to them glad tidings. Then shivering, because it was very chilly at night, we sang Christmas carols by starlight on a Judean hillside – not an experience many people get to have. Normally I refuse to sing Christmas Carols out of season, but tonight was well worth making the exception.


We had to buy some palms for Palm Sunday! I didn't win the tallest palm contest, but looks like Dave came close.


I made some new friends, including a priest from Tanzania who is here studying the bible.


A nun singing as she walked in the procession.


A crowd of Christians.


Look closely and you can see Jerusalem in the background.