From November 27 to December 5, 1995, thirty-six Christian and Jewish community leaders, clergy, and educators partici-pated in an ICJS Israel Study Tour. Under the leadership of Rabbi Daniel Lehmann and Dr. Chris Leighton, this diverse group traveled to places sacred to Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, and opened themselves to the challenge of examining how we define ourselves and how we relate to the other. It proved to be a journey that did not end with the return to Baltimore. Three participants on the tour share their reflections.

As I write this, I am beginning a new job. Among the very first things I am taking to my office is the picture of "our" ICJS group in Israel. It stands on my desk, right next to the picture of my family -- daily proof that I was there, and a daily reminder of the significance of that trip for me. I still find it difficult to be reflective about the trip to Israel without being obnoxious, but I'll try. I offer some observations:

--It's the land. From our first look at Tel Aviv (and Rabbi Danny Lehmann's announcement that no Jew would choose to go to Caesarea Phillipi first) to the last, rainy farewell, I could not take my eyes off the land: the light, the colors, the scent, and the taste of the place. I kept wanting to strip away both obtrusive churches and theological veneers. I simply wanted to "be" there. The color of pomegranates drooping on the trees, the violet sky over Jerusalem at dusk, the dazzling reflection of the sun on bleached white stone, the jumble of rock and rosemary, the rose-tinted scrim that draped the Sea of Galilee at dawn ... all make me believe that there are places that are holy to begin with.

--Israel is a messy place, and any attempt to neaten it or make it cute will fail. It is a mélange of other-worldly scenery and this-minute politics, politics that dot the land like the unfortunate litter. Israel is an intricate composite of cultures whose scents compete for the air of Jerusalem. It is a place so old you cannot believe it and so new you do not recognize it. It is a place of simultaneous tension and tranquility. It is a place of open wounds and balsamic remedies. Israel is a place that has completely changed my idea of incarnation ... of God with us in just such a contradictory and complicated place.

--My impressions of Israel are indelibly shaped by those who travelled with me, our little community of pilgrims who were lifted up out of Baltimore and carried across the seas and deposited in the Holy Land. We were a very diverse group of people, collected and delivered in more ways than one. We were Christians and Jews, clergy and lay people, teachers, architects, administrators, lawyers, and business people. Consequently, we saw Safed through a mystic's eyes, Roman stages through the eyes of a contemporary Hamlet, the Gar-den of Gethsemane through the eyes of a gardener, one extremely important piece of art through the eyes of a cura-tor, Masada through the eyes of an artist, Mt. Carmel through the eyes of a biblical scholar. We prayed out of our experiences, from our different cultural ancestries and from our different faith traditions. We struggled with difficult biblical texts. We all felt indignant when one of us felt excluded. We rejoiced when we received glimpses of a place from another's point of view. We worshipped and wept together. We sang new songs. We learned. And, so, the trip to Israel, for me, is indistinguishable from this group of people, each one of them fully engaged in what we were doing, each one fully present for the other, each one offering the gifts of their spirits.

And there we all are, in the photo on my desk, standing in the well of a ruined church. Our faces are full of light against the rock wall. I am more grateful than I can say.

--The Rev. Christa Burns, Co-Pastor, Second Presbyterian Church