By Reina Free.
This morning I am walking as usual along Kings Lane. The rain has only just stopped. My farmer friend Peter Bunce told me that the opinion of the farmers is that the soil has never ever been so wet. In Chris Ruttle’s very large field, right at the bottom, are two small lakes.
Yet only last week I was walking quite a different lane, with no potholes, but uneven cobblestones, rounded by many feet, called the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem, also called ‘The Way of Sorrows’.
I started from the Mount of Olives, the road winds down, and I stopped for a while at the Garden of Gethsemane with its very ancient gnarled olive trees. The place where Jesus prayed not to have to endure what was lying ahead. Then down and through the ‘Lions Gate’ into the Via Dolorosa, the road Jesus was taken along carrying His cross. On the ancient walls are marked out numbers pointing out what are called ‘The Stations of the Cross’. There are 14 of them. Nine are mentioned in the Gospels.
What deeply moved me, sometimes with a lump in my throat, were the places where Jesus stumbled when they mocked Him and pressed a crown of thorns into His head; when the cross became too heavy for Him; where He was flogged, and so on, ending in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
I went to Jerusalem not with a group, but on my own as I wanted to walk this very special way unhurried, to be conscious of what had happened there over 2,000 years ago.
I have visited quite a few big cities in my travels, but in all the world there is no town like the old town of Jerusalem The ancient sites, the narrow streets, some steep, some with many steps. The Wailing Wall, the most sacred site for the Jews, where they come to pray. The deep commitment to their religion is very special indeed.
And why is Jerusalem so different? It is a combination of things. My own opinion is the very presence of Jesus Himself, unseen but very real, even tangible. Thousands upon thousands of people from all over the world come, all with their own special needs.
For Jerusalem is different, this town is much more than just sightseeing. It is the very spirituality of the place.
Walking early in the morning along Kings Lane I picked up an interesting stone and saw that underneath it was the yellowy curled up slightly squashed shoot of a bluebell, growing against all odds. Just a little green shoot developing into a flower. Soon it will be Easter. New life emerging from a dark tomb.