Every Easter weekend brings back memories for me of a six-week period in 1987 that I spent in Israel.
During that time I enjoyed the once-in-a-lifetime experience of seeing many of the places and things that had previously been familiar to me only within the context of the Bible.
Like most people, I grew up associating the stories contained in that sacred book with people and things from a very distant past and with places that are now mainly enjoyed by archeologists digging, scraping and raking through the ruins.
It, therefore, was with a sense of not really knowing what to expect I would find there apart from the modern-day state of Israel that I boarded an aircraft at London’s Heathrow Airport for a flight to the Tel Aviv Airport in Israel’s second largest city on July 12, 1987.
I almost didn’t even get the opportunity to find out because as the flight was descending to land at the airport it unexpectedly took back to the cloudy skies after reaching within touching distance of the runway. It would be minutes later that the captain would come on the intercom to inform the passengers about a malfunction with the landing gear which, fortunately, was spotted by vigilant eyes in the control tower and forced the attempt to land to be aborted. Had it been otherwise I might not have been here today to tell the story.
Anyway, the second attempt resulted in a safe landing and later that night I joined a number of fellow journalists from Latin America, Africa and the Caribbean in heavily protected accommodations just outside the city of Jerusalem. As the daysrolled by, we would find ourselves in constant awe at the experience of exploring the Holy Land.
Among other places, I visited the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem and stood at the very spot said to be where the stable in which Jesus was born once stood.
I walked the winding alleyways of Nazareth’s old city where Jesus grew up and, as we would say in Barbados, ran about as a boy. I placed a hand in the water of the River Jordan at the spot where it is believed that Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist. I took off my shoes and stood with bare feet in the Sea of Galilee where he performed many miracles. I floated in a sitting position on the legendary Dead Sea and also mounted the sacred Jewish fortress of Masada. I toured Jerusalem’s Jewish, Muslim and Christian holy sites, touched the Wailing Wall and stared in wonderment at the Dome of the Rock.
I ran my fingers through the leaves of the old olive trees still growing in the Garden of Gethsemane and walked along the Via Dolorosa in the very footsteps of Jesus when he carried the Cross to the place of his crucifixion.
The two visits I made to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem were the most fascinating aspect of the entire experience. This cathedral-like ancient edifice is identified as the place of both the crucifixion of Jesus and of the tomb where his lifeless body was placed and from which he arose from the dead on the third day.
Happy Easter!
• Al Gilkes heads a public relations firm. Email algilkes@gmail.com