Holy Land Pilgrimage as a Selective Skeptic

Skepticism is one of my default settings—for better or worse. I couldn’t turn it off even in the Holy Land. Quite the opposite, it kicked into overdrive. “Are those really Jesus’ footsteps? Could they have been anyone else’s?” “Was Moses really found here? But there’s no river in sight.”

I’ve been called out it (non-verbatim): “Why do you still doubt? Years of research have been gone into proving these sites are authentic.” But I couldn’t help it. It was distracting at times, wrestling with my skeptical nature while standing on sacred ground.

But before anything else, it should be established: I wholeheartedly believe Jesus walked these lands. “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary lived around this town.” “Jesus grew up in this stone dwelling.”

I particularly appreciate our tour guide, Joseph, who anticipated and acknowledged doubts, and offered explanations when we can. About the Sea of Galilee, he said, “You may ask, ‘Joseph, but how are we sure this is where Jesus instructed the disciples to cast their net on the other side of the boat for a more bountiful catch? But the Sea of Galilee…’” I’ve forgotten the exact reasoning, but I remember his honesty and the care with which he addressed our questions.

My discomfort, I realized, came not from the broad belief that Jesus lived and taught here, but from the more specific claims—like artifacts outside of Nazareth said to bear the imprints of Jesus’ body. That’s the brand of skepticism I carry: I may doubt, but I don’t disbelieve. If anything, these questions are launchpads—they push me to dig deeper, to learn. That, I enjoy.

Another truth I hold fast to: Jesus walked far and wide to spread the Good News. The terrain where Jesus lived is wildly different from places I’ve known. The long bus rides between itinerary stops offered a view of endless deserts with occasional Bedouin settlements and scattered vegetation. Imagining Jesus crossing these distances under harsh conditions to fulfill his purpose was unexpectedly encouraging. If Jesus—God Himself—labored and kept going, so must I.

In the end, even if I questioned the authenticity of some artifacts, I couldn’t deny how present Jesus was throughout the journey. Maybe a footprint wasn’t really his, but we learned about his Jewish upbringing, the foods he ate, the conditions under which he fulfilled his ministry. It brought his humanity into sharper focus.

It’s the same feeling touching down Korea and thinking, “I’m breathing the same air as SHINee (lol).” Only here, we’re walking the footsteps of the biggest celebrity—nay, figure in history— ever, Jesus. Thank God for our imaginations: He sees us always, but in this trip, we got to see him a little more vividly too. That clarity is especially precious now, when the political climate in the region obscures His presence.

Now, every time I hear the readings or the Gospel, I’m transported back to the places we visited in our trip. And while I know Jesus is present at every Mass—offering Himself to us in love and sacrifice—being able to take the Eucharist in the very land where He lived, taught, walked, died and rose again… that was something else entirely. No notes.

Goosebumps-inducing. Life-altering. Five out of five stars; would go again.