Day 1

After a short delay to the flight, we’re in the air and already the encounter with the Middle East begins. The woman on my right strikes up a conversation about her experiences of interfaith relations. A Spanish woman, brought up in London, she has recently been working in the media in Bahrain, Dubai and Saudi Arabia. She has Catholic roots, to which she adheres, complemented by regular visits to Holy Trinity Brompton. She’s passionate about seeing women of faith empowered in business - and even more so, about dialogue and unity between religions. She tells me incredible stories of how several of her Muslim friends in the Middle East, who had no exposure to the Christian faith whatsoever, had visions or dreams of Jesus – supernatural encounters which led to them converting, albeit secretly, to Christianity. This is her first trip to Israel too and she’ll stay with a community of Jewish and Muslim people, who are attempting to model integration and peace.

 Israel, particularly Jerusalem, in my mind is bounded by a crackle of electricity; a cacophony of hysterical, shrill voices and bellowing, unshakable beliefs. I know that underneath are the lives of ordinary people, some no doubt joyful, but many heavy leaden with grief, bitterness and the anger of injustice. I don’t want to turn a blind eye to the current pain and struggles of the people living here, but I’m nervous that the intensity of religious and political conflict could be overwhelming. I hope that this visit will help penetrate beyond the babble of opinions and beliefs, to encounter the still small voice, the whisper, the meaningful, the hopeful.

It’s night when we arrive. In a brand new minibus – polythene still on some of the seats – we begin the drive from Tel Avis to Tiberius, Israel’s smallest city. Tiberius was developed 2,000 years ago by Herod Antipas, who wanted access to the natural hot springs, which occur as the region is 200 metres below sea level. Early on in the two-hour journey, the driver announces on the intercom that we’ll take highway 6 most of the way, then turn off for the road to the Sea of Galilee. Hearing the words send a shiver of excitement down my arms. Somewhere almost mythic will become solid ground where I will walk and sail and eat.

Towards the end of the journey we drive past a huddle of sheep by a barn, bathed in the orange glow of a nearby street light. I can’t help feeling that even the farm animals here have an extra special significance.