Wednesday 17th December 2025
Aniko Schütz Bradwell
“Thus says the Lord: ‘Jerusalem shall be called the faithful city, and the mountain of the Lord of hosts shall be called the holy mountain.”
Zechariah 8:3
A holy city
Thirteen years ago, I was lucky enough to spend a summer in the glorious city of Jerusalem. Staying high above the Old City in the Lutheran compound on the Mount of Olives, I couldn’t believe all the history and the holy sites surrounding me. The Old City of Jerusalem itself, Bethlehem, Jericho, the desert, the river Jordan, Nazareth, Tiberias and Capernaum and the Sea of Galilee – full of history, full of religious significance – and yet, completely in the here and now of our societal and political reality.
If nothing else, the giant concrete wall snaking around the West Bank was a constant reminder of that reality, as were the thousands of people living in refugee camps, and the ancient villages and settlements that were destroyed again and again by incoming and hostile (and, by international law, illegal) settlers. And yet, in their everyday struggles with barely sufficient housing, with inconsistent healthcare, with scarce water supplies, with oppression and humiliation as a daily occurrence – the people I met in the West Bank were among the most hospitable and welcoming I have ever met. They invited us to their tables and shared what they had with us: and again and again, they asked us to share their stories, and what we had seen in their land, in this land we call holy, the birthplace of our faith and the venue of the vast majority of the stories at the core of this, our faith.
In this time of Advent, it is easy for us to think about the stable in the sleepy town of Bethlehem, surrounded by fields where shepherds would look after the flocks; about Nazareth, a town of craftspeople and scholars; about the splendour and majesty of Jerusalem – and to keep it all nice and pure and holy in our mind. The reality on the ground is very different, of course, now, 2,000 years on – but I strongly suspect it was quite messy then, too, in the days of Mary and Joseph and Jesus – what with overcrowded inns, jealous and murderous kings, rebels strung high on crosses.
As I write this, a little before Advent, I pray fervently that the war in Gaza has ended, that the hostages of Hamas have been freed, that starvation and destruction are no more and that negotiations are taking place about the future, a safe and dignified and humane future for all people in this Holy Land.
May Jerusalem be called once more ‘the faithful city, and the mountain of the Lord of hosts […]the holy mountain.’
Shall we pray?
Holy God, we come before you with hope that your love will surround and heal all your children, and overcome all hatred, all indifference and all fear. Amen
Aniko Schütz Bradwell is Minister at Lammermuir Church in Lothian & Borders Presbytery, and lives in Gifford with her family and many, many pets.
Thinking it through:
What does the idea of a Holy Land mean to you?
Where do you find hope, when there is so much bleakness and suffering in the world?