Hello Pope: Tips for visiting the Holy Land

I have a long personal history with Catholicism. Not in a participatory sense, but rather as a vistor. My maternal grandparents lived four houses away from the local Catholic rectory -- just far enough that by the time I reached the rectory on my Sunday afternoon bike rides from my grandparents' house, I was suitably hungry and often dropped in for afternoon tea. I was six and they were already boiling the kettle, so why not? As I saw it then, it was a win-win: cookies and tea for me and the opportunity to have some quality kid time for a bunch of guys who were chronically childless.

I am pretty sure they knew who I was and that I was Jewish, but cookies and tea superseded any religious barriers that might have arisen between us. No one at home ever told me I couldn't go there and no one at the rectory ever said I couldn't come in. At the time, I can say with all honesty that I was a big fan of the Catholic Church.

Unfortunately, 46 years later, I am no longer a fan of the Catholic Church. Most days I am simply indifferent and that is good enough. But I have to say that Pope Francis is testing my resolve. From the day he was elected Pope and then promptly hopped in a cab to go back to his hotel to pay his bill and pick up his belongings, I have liked him. That's why I want to speak up now before he makes any irrevocable faux pas during his Middle East visit.

• According to the Vatican envoy to Jerusalem, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is Christianity's most important site. That's great. Now don't go back stepping when the Arabs try to convince you that Bethlehem and Nazareth are equally important. Why? Because they are only saying that so that they can use your comments against Israel at some point in the future. You are a pawn in their dirty game.
• It's very nice that all the different Catholic sub-denominations agreed to meet with you in the CHS, but once again, don't get too excited because they all don't like you either and they too, just want to show a unified face so that later they can tell the world media how Israel is keeping them from actualizing their Catholicism in Palestine (read: Jerusalem) or some other cockamemie thing. 
• Although it is a big deal that the Lebanese Maronite Bishop Bashara al-Rahi is flying in to party with you -- the first Lebanese patriarch to do so since 1948 -- trust me, he is going home to a likely hail storm of bullets for daring to step foot in Israel to do anything but kill Israelis. And what if, heaven forbid, everything goes really well? What are the Israel-hating Lebanese going to do then? Oh yeah, he's not long for this world.
• Don't start up with this State of Palestine business. There is no State of Palestine. Leave the rhetoric and dialetic to the politicians. 
• Inviting a Muslim and a Jew to Rome to pray with you? Are you expecting them to kneel as well? Trust me, you are headed down a rocky road. If they comply then that's not saying much for how either man perceives his own religion and if they don't, my guess is that Catholics worldwide will be offended. This is a no-win situation.
• And for heaven's sake, will you please get in that damn PopeMobile. You are giving Israel's enemies a potential gift from Heaven. Think about it. If they can shoot you in Israel then they can spin that into a story that Israel hates Catholics or that the security was lax because you aren't important. Do not play into their hands -- they have no civilized limits. Not only are you screwing up traffic even more than the average dignitary, but already the Israeli Christians are saying that Israel is trying to deny their rights by removing their chance to be close to you. It doesn't take much to start a brouhaha here.

Israel may not be experiencing its best period with its Christian minority, but at least they are still alive, unlike in Syria. Islamic extremism is a way bigger problem for them but they are surely not going to miss the opportunity, when the world is watching, to play it up.

So Pope, welcome to Israel. Don't be naive. You are playing with the Mean Boys now -- and there aren't enough cookies on Earth for them to just drop by and enjoy the day.

Three Jews and A Christian: The Journey Continues

When we last saw our stress-filled, anxious travellers (and their oblivious friend), they were headed to the Via Dolorosa, which I now know means The Road of Suffering.


Entering the Muslim Quarter after leaving the Temple Mount is like jumping from the fire into the frying pan. And yes, in case you are wondering, it is different from the Jewish Quarter -- COMPLETELY DIFFERENT!

Walking through the Arab market means enduring constant pleas to spend your money or at least drop by for a cup of coffee (which probably offers another route to the slave chicks in Gaza thing that I mentioned in the previous post.) It is dark and claustrophobic. Not an ounce of sunshine or an open space to be found. And not one Muslim woman to be seen. You feel like a potential human sacrifice walking through the ancient windy streets....

... which explains how I ended up paying an opportunistic 10-year-old Muslim boy four shekels to direct us to the Via Dolorosa. I know it was ridiculous, but since he wanted 100 shekels for his two minute effort, I think I did okay.

We arrived at the VD at the sixth Station of the Cross, which amounts to an ancient stone brick on the streetside facade of a church (or at least it looked like a church) where Jesus, who was carrying his own crucifixion cross and wearing a crown of thorns, stopped to rest for a second -- and he apparently leaned on the wall RIGHT THERE. Since then, about a trillion people have touched the same spot to the point that there is a noticeable indentation in the rock facade. (And for those of you who do not know what the Stations of Cross are, then if you are interested you can google it. I managed to get all the way to 49 without knowing so you can probably have dinner before you start getting anxious that you don't know what they are either.)

With the Via Dolorosa now checked off our To Do List, we found our way to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre which is in the Armenian Quarter and is much airier than the Muslem Quarter. Still not open and welcoming like the Jewish Quarter, but a far cry better than where we had come from.

It took me about 100 attempts to say the word "Sepulchre" properly. Try it, you'll see what I mean. You can hurt your tongue doing so.

When we entered the church courtyard, we knew we were in the right place because there were at least 300 tourists ahead of us. All in little groups with matching hats, listening to explanations in various languages from their tour guides. Suffice it to say that Jesus is a big draw and can really pull in the crowds.

When we entered the church the first thing we saw was a marble slab on the ground and many people lying down to kiss it or rub their belongings on it. I didn't understand what they were doing at first until my Catholic friend pointed out to me that they were rubbing their souvenirs on Jesus' grave so that they could give their friends a touch of his essence. From her persepctive it was no different from us touching the Western Wall as we prayed there. I don't really agree but I do see how she got to her position.

Since Jesus' grave was right in the entrance I didn't feel any need to look around further, but since we were there we decided to be good tourists. Of course, having survived the Temple Mount and the Arab Quarter my Jewish friends were invigorated and feeling a little invincible. So .... in we went.

When we entered the second room we were met by a monsterous black structure that looked to me like a giant incense burner. It was surrounded by a lot of people -- a lot of people. People were lighting candles everywhere. We couldn't figure out what it was but the line up to enter was very long. We finally agreed that it must be some sort of weird altar.

Well, it is good that we are naturally chatty types. We stopped in front of the giant incense burner/altar to talk to a Greek woman who turned out to be a tour guide. After five minutes of superficial Christianity chit chat I asked her what that thing was.

Talk about a watershed moment. It turned out to be the "real" grave of Jesus!

How did she know that for sure I asked her. And of course, I got the usual answer for all tough questions of faith .... it's in the ancient writings. I'm sure she noticed my cynical smile, but she wasn't deterred.

The Greek tour guide was really pushing us to get in line so that we could enter the tomb -- even after I told her that we were Jewish (I was a lot braver after I left the Muslim Quarter). She insisted that it was for all religions, so we nodded and said good-bye ... exiting in the opposite direction. Yeah, like we were really going in there.

(For those of you wondering what the first slab was, it turned out to be a facsimilie of the slab that Jesus' body was placed on after he was removed from the cross and before he was buried. Notice that I said "fascimilie". It wasn't even the real slab so who knows why all those people were going nuts kissing it and rubbing things on it. Didn't they read the guide book? It's all there!)

I think that's enough information for readers today. I promise to wrap up the story in the next installation.