Apr 11, 2011

The Basilica of Agony

AKA The Church of All Nations

By Lisa T. Bergren

One of the holiest experiences I’ve had as a spiritual traveler was more than twenty years ago, in Jerusalem. On Palm Sunday, with pilgrims from around the world, we joined a procession from Bethany, down curving, steep slopes of the Mount of Olives. With us were short, Greek nuns in black habits, as tough as they were wide. Continue reading

Nov 18, 2010

The Pulse of Jerusalem

Living Like a Local

By Lisa T. Bergren

I pour bitey, new wine (kosher, of course) for myself while my husband does a taste test on Israeli vs. Palestinian beer (FYI: Palestinians win). We’re in the garden of the guesthouse, our favorite spot to feel the pulse of Jerusalem. Continue reading

Aug 23, 2010

The Wall

Crossing the Border from Palestine to Israel

By Lisa T. Bergren

Think crossing the Israeli border is easy? Think again. We began our day as we did many others in Jerusalem, all packed up, water bottles filled, cameras stationed around our necks. We walked through the winding streets of the Old City, through the Damascus Gate and over to the bus station, where our guide made arrangements for our group of twenty-two to be dropped in Bethany. Continue reading

Jun 9, 2010

Hezekiah’s Tunnel

And the Pools of Siloam

By Lisa T. Bergren

Heading to Israel with kids? You gotta add this Indiana Jones-ish excursion to your itinerary. The City of David is to Jerusalem what the island of Torcello is to Venice — the ancient sites from which each grand city was born. David came to this Jebusite stronghold in 1000 BC, and sneaking through the tunnels that brought water to her inhabitants, conquered her. Continue reading

Jun 7, 2010

Arriving in Jerusalem

By Lisa T. Bergren

We arrive in Tel Aviv, sleep deprived, wide-eyed. We hop on shuttle buses and wonder at the changing landscape as we climb higher and higher, en route to Jerusalem, forty minutes away. Here there are woods that somewhat resemble those you might see in Northern Arizona or parts of California, there, the barren valleys of a desert in a hundred lands. The buildings—uniformly limestone—are built in a sort of pueblo style, close together, one atop the other, and in some cities, extend to high rises. But black water tanks top all, like giant, bulbous smokestacks.

It’s been twenty years since I’ve been in Israel. Part of it feels familiar—the high fences topped with barbed wire, the hills, the consistent stone of all the buildings—part of it feels new, something forgotten I need to rediscover. Continue reading