Originally written in March 2020
We had been in Israel for seven days and I would describe the trip as both informative and humbling.
Informative, because seeing the places I had only ever read about helped make sense of many biblical events. Humbling, because so much of what we saw reminded me of the simplicity and humility of Jesus.
Then we encountered a little drama.
We were in Bethlehem, where we had stayed the night, when cases of the newly emerging coronavirus were discovered in the area. Suddenly, the Church of the Nativity—the very reason we had gone to Bethlehem—was closed, and we were told to stay in our hotel.
Bethlehem is in the West Bank, only a short distance from Jerusalem, but the two are separated by checkpoints and barriers. And now, with coronavirus cases appearing, restrictions were being introduced very quickly.
Thankfully, our guide was an Israeli Christian of Arab descent and knew another route towards Jerusalem.
As we approached the Israeli checkpoint, he gave us one instruction:
“If they ask where you came from, tell them you came from the Dead Sea.”
There was just one small problem.
We hadn’t. 
We had stayed in Bethlehem the night before.
By the time we reached the checkpoint, it had started raining. The border officer looked at our group and simply asked our guide:
“Who are these people?”
“Half are Americans and half are Filipinos.”
And that was it.
We were waved through.
Not long after we reached our hotel on the Mount of Olives, we heard the announcement that Bethlehem was going into lockdown.
Nobody was to go in or out.
That was when it really sank in.
Had we left a little later, our Holy Land pilgrimage might have become a considerably longer stay in Bethlehem than any of us had planned.
What began as a trip to understand biblical history had somehow ended with us witnessing another piece of history unfolding in real time.
And suddenly, being safely back in Jerusalem felt like quite a blessing.
Stories Along the Way 