And so to Jeruslaem.....

It was an eight o’clock start, with everyone  on time as had been requested, which brought us to Yad va Shem before eleven. We’d taken the Jordan valley route, with the steep climb at the end up to Jerusalem – and all along we’d seen red signs at the ends of roads leading to Palestinian villages warning Israelis that they must not go that way. Palestinians, as we know now, laugh at these signs and the suggestion that anyone driving through their fields might be in danger, and see them as another way by which the Israeli state divides peoples, and ensures that whether in areas A, B or C, it is clear who is really in charge.

Yad Vashem is a gripping reminder of the horrors of the fate that befell the Jewish people, and as such should be a place where we might all reflect of the cruelty of which human beings are capable. But here in Israel the story is told to the visitor as they walk through the museum in a very political way, not only to justify the foundation and existence of the state of Israel, but also it in effect to justify the political decisions and actions of successive governments. Quiet reflection is made impossible not only by the sheer numbers visiting, but also by the guides who block the way and explain again to their groups what is already explained in the exhibits – while putting a very definite slant on the story.

We who had been with Palestinians and heard their stories in recent days seem, comparing notes afterwards, all to have been struck by parallels between what Jews suffered in the 30s and what Palestinians have to suffer now. Of course, the holocaust is such a searing experience for the Jewish people that it is easy to understand the outcry when such a comparison is made, and certainly as the story moves into the 40s and the horrors of the ghettoes and the camps it is clear that this is a different and unique story. But how troubling that there should be these parallels at all.

On our way to Jerusalem Glenis had led our morning prayers on the bus. She had prayed that we might understand that all things we were to experience today will have a past, a present and a future. Today we have seen more about the past, which might help us understand some things in the present, but I think we will be left fearful as ever for the future.

Outside the museum are two bronzes – the one  showing the cowered Jews of the ghetto, and alongside it a representation of the new Israeli, powerful muscular and looking confidently to the future.  But is this the future that the leaders of 1948 envisaged? If we have come to Jerusalem as disciples of Jesus, we need to remind ourselves that the way we are called to follow is not a way of triumph, but of weakness and resignation.

St James's

From Yad Vashem  we moved on to lunch at Notre Dame, just outside the old city walls, which through a change of plans has now turned out to be our Jerusalem accommodation – and very comfortable it is too.  The afternoon was spent on a walking tour which took us from St James’s Armenian Cathedral, where we caught the end of the daily liturgy, across to The Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where Orthodox and Latins were in full voice competing with one another. And to add to the variety of church life, we also found ourselves in a Syriac Orthodox church where we had a fine rendition of the Lord’s  Prayer sung  in Aramaic by the church guide. Finally, we made our way to the Western Wall a few minutes after sunset, as the square was filling with eager enthusiastic Jews of every variety. Some of us walked up to the wall, surrounded by singing and chanting and fervent prayer. What a richness!

We made our way back from the Jewish Quarter to the Damascus, noticing that there was still a stream of Orthodox Jews (fur hats etc) making their way through the Muslim Quarter. What is that saying about population changes in the old city and East Jerusalem? I expect we will hear much more about these things in the coming days.