Galilee

I was definitely looking forward to visiting Galilee. To seeing fresh water I could swim in, soaking up a little sun on uncovered shoulders, and giving a clearer image to the ones I’d developed as a child about where Jesus did much of his teaching and his ministry. I was excited about visiting the church of St. Peter’s Primacy, the Mt. of the Beatitudes, Mt. Tabor/site of the transfiguration, the Church of the Multiplication of Loaves and Fishes, about celebrating the Eucharist lakeside and wading into the Sea of Galilee to renew our baptismal vows.

We stayed at the German, Benedictine-run Pilgerhaus. The accommodations verged on resort-like. The grounds were covered in lush flowers, bamboo and palm trees and filled with exotic birds. Of course, true to Kerri form, nature hid itself from me…I did not see one single parrot, despite their being perched in the trees. This is a picture of where we celebrated the Eucharist our first night, the rock with the anchor, our altar.

Each site we visited included scriptural references, reflection from either Andrew or one of the participants, and time for personal reflection. This time on our own was key for me in terms of delving deeper into the story. One of my favourite moments was on Mt. Tabor/site of the Transfiguration when I wandered into the forest. It smelled fresh and clean. It was silent and (nearly) void of tourists and pilgrims and I had solitude in my reflection. Such a contrast to Jerusalem.

Things that came us as our group chatted over beer and the fruitiest rum I’ve ever tasted, included how absolutely stunning the region is. The water is incredibly blue and clean! It’s not a sandy lake—lake, not “sea” like I imagined—but rocked bottomed. We saw only one fishing boat over our two-day stay. Things are close by: sitting at the beach you can see the Mt. of the Beatitudes and Tiberius.

We ate fresh St. Peter’s fish on our last day in Galilee. It didn’t cross my mind to consider the non-fish dish for lunch. I like fish. But I hadn’t expected the fish in it’s entirety to appear before me. I don’t do food that looks like it did when alive. I find it disturbing. I ate it and it was indeed the best fish I’ve tasted. But not until someone peeled the scales/skin back for!

My last thought after two days in Galilee, with free time to sit by the lake, relax and rejuvenate, was how hard it felt to return to Jerusalem. The city is hard to live in. The politics weight heavy. The city is covered in stone which wears on your feet, your knees and your back. It’s busy: with people who share their space, their holy sites and welcome you hospitably, and with people who wish you were not visiting and do not care about the journey you’re on. It’s hot and demanding of clothing of I continue to find myself resenting having to put on.

It is all that. But we were also on a pilgrimage. And we turned toward Jerusalem questioning how crazy Jesus must have been to leave this place to face persecution, both knowing and not knowing how it would end.