This is where it ends. This is where it begins.

Studying in public school, our creed has no bearings. We are unified as human beings in singing daily our national anthem out in the courtyard, rain or shine before we start our regiment of learning academics. Religion is not a subject, history is. Studying history, we learn as well, the faith during that era. HIstory is very interesting and it happened to be the best subject in my formative years. Without knowing our history, we are bound to repeat it.

ShimonZ of The Human Picture writes what matters to an old man who lives in Jerusalem. Reading his posts makes me want to revisit Jerusalem. Currently, two of my siblings and their children, a total of eight, joined a pilgrimage to Holy Land. As a group from Canada, there are 37 of them.

Last month, ShimonZ celebrated their holiest day of the year, Yom Kippur. In hindsight post, he quoted: “In Israel, in order to be a realist you must believe in miracles.” I expressed my view in his post: “On this day, I just read, that today in 1973 was the Yom Kippur War. I believe in miracles for the sake of humanity.”

To understand our faith, we have to learn part of the history of the Jewish faith. How it all began. From Moses to King David to Jesus Christ. When it comes to miracles, these people have experienced miracles, graced us with their wonders, and continued to create miracles by praying for their intercessions.

Every day, I waited for my brother to share the events of the day on Facebook. Finally, they arrived at the Land of Holy. Behind the Wailing Wall, the Dome of the Rock (golden dome) and the Holy Sepulchre (black dome). Here is the seat of Jews, Muslims, and Christians.

As they entered the walled city of Jerusalem, first they paid homage to King David, prayed at the Wailing Wall and left their written prayers between the cracks of the stone. Technically, this wall is an extension of the real wall way below the earth.

Early in the morning, the group reenacted the carrying of the cross starting from Ecce Homo (Behold the Man) the place where Pontius Pilate and the citizens of Jerusalem condemned Jesus to death. It takes at least three people to carry the cross with ease. Sharing the heavyweight, the burden is lighter. But with Jesus, he carried it on his own.

Jerusalem is waking up as the pilgrimage walks along the street praying and carrying the cross. People going to work. Children going to school. The market starts to open. This place is crowded and noisy. People here are used to seeing Christians doing the final stage of Jesus. Once one group is done, another group takes over. A daily occurrence.

At Holy Sepulchre is where it ends, the place where Jesus was crucified. Here, they commemorated and celebrated the life of Jesus. That he is alive. Present. In the Eucharist. In daily life. In the mundane. In the ordinary. In the eyes of children. In every faces. In suffering. In joy. In sorrows. In all things.

This is where it ends. This is where it begins. This still continues.

Photos by Angelo Siglos