At least twice a week we are given a substantial portion of the day free—free from classes, trips, or pilgrim obligations. Today was such a day, with a whole afternoon to spend as we chose. What does a pilgrim do in Jerusalem with an entire afternoon to himself? Some took care of necessities like laundry, changing money, or finding a quiet place for prayer and journaling. Several of us decided to visit sites we had not yet seen, and for us that meant the sites on and around the Mount of Olives.
Located just across the Kidron Valley east of the Temple Mount, the Mount of Olives is a mountain ridge important for both Jews and Christians. It has been a prominent burial place for Jews since biblical times, with more than 100,000 graves dotting its slopes. The New Testament, as you already know, places Jesus here several times during his ministry. Its pinnacle, we discovered, provides the best panorama of the Old City of Jerusalem.
After a long gaze at the Old City and a few readings from Scripture, it was time for us to descend back down the side of the slope and enter the church Dominus Flevit (or “the Lord wept”). It is so named because it stands on the place traditionally understood to be where Jesus wept over Jerusalem, saying, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!” (Lk. 13:34). With this passage in mind, Architect Antonio Barluzzi designed this church in the shape of a tear, symbolizing the tears Jesus shed over the city.
After visiting Dominus Flevit and reading the passage from the Gospel of Luke, we trekked down to the foot of the Mount to enter the Garden of Gethsemane. After entering, we noticed that the Garden was surrounded by a waist-high gate to keep pilgrims and sight-seers from touching the olive trees. These trees, we were told, have roots dating back to the time of Jesus. It is no wonder, then, why they are protected!
But as I said, today was a graced day. As we walked around the Garden to enter the church proper, an old Franciscan friar was standing at the gate to the Garden, looking out onto the trees. Being seminarians and having visited several sites in the Holy Land under the Franciscan’s protection, we felt comfortable approaching him to chat. He didn’t speak much English, but when we discovered he was from Spain, one of the seminarians started conversing with him in fluent Spanish.
After a few minutes of conversation, the friar smiled, unlocked the gate, and waved us into the Garden. “Take your time…” he said. And there, as other groups looked on, we were free to walk among the trees in the place where Christ took his disciples after the Last Supper (Mt. 26:30), where He was betrayed (Mt. 26:36-50), and where he ascended into heaven (Acts 1:9-12). Overwhelmed by the place, we prayed a passage from John 17: “Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent…” (17:3). After touching our rosaries to the roots of the trees, we exited through the same gate by which we had entered. We thanked the friar again for such a privilege, and told him that we were seminarians studying to become priests. “Yes.” he said. “I could tell.” Overwhelmed by such an experience, we headed back home, thanking God for all we had experienced that day. We certainly didn’t deserve it, but we received it as a gift from the God who loves us.
Today was a graced day.