After exiting through King Faisel’s gate from the Temple Mount I took a right turn and followed my vague memory and headed towards St Anne’s church. This was possibly my favourite church in Jerusalem when I was last here and the excavations of they various churches, healing pools and temples are so impressive.
Upon entering and gaining a ticket I was asked where I was from I replied “Scotland” (which is what I always say when abroad since the UK/England does not always elicit a positive response!) I was over heard by a priest who said: “Scottish, that’s a sort of English” in a thick Irish accent to which I could not help myself by saying “yes! Just like the Irish!” I entered into the courtyard which had the most beautiful colours in the garden. It was rather busy so I headed straight into the church and went down to the birth place of Our Lady to say some prayers.
The place was essentially the crypt of the church and the bedrock of Jerusalem. It was nice and quiet for a couple of minutes before the tour groups descended. So I made use of my Oxford Oratory prayer book and offered prayers to Our Lady, particularly for those who had asked for them.
The church was built between 1131-1138 next to where the Byzantine church was which was built over the Roman temple that had 5 porticoes- and where Jesus healed a paralytic.
When I left the church it was quieter, so I went to have a walk around the ruins and excavations and someone was using surveying equipment I assume to record the site. It was wonderfully quiet and I had the place to myself, I explored at my leisure and walked down the steps to the very waters that remain where the pigeons were hiding. I am always struck by the history of these places, how they were razed to the ground by various groups and built back up by others. There is something miraculous about the nature of Jerusalem – that anything survived, but also a testament of human endurance. It was strange to think of those people who would have come down there for the healing waters and try to lower themselves in, and then of those early Byzantine Christian’s worshipping there, to the pilgrims of the 12th century, and all those through the centuries all of us seeking some peace and healing in one way or another. The power of a shared historic experience is hard to convey in words.
I was soon to realise why it was so quiet- I was locked in! Thankfully there was a very helpful lady who was cleaning the loos and found me and let me out! There could certainly have been worse places to be locked in.
Cammino di Maria 