Shalom is the medicine I’d prescribe for Jerusalem—a deep, God-breathed indwelling of peace and prosperity and blessing. An end to the unrest and a sense of wholeness is what the Holy City needs. It’s what the Middle East needs. It’s what I need.
Prayer is meant to happen everywhere. After all, Daniel prayed in the lion’s den. Jonah prayed in a fish’s stomach. Elijah prayed in the desert. And Jesus prayed on the cross.
Somewhere, somehow, at some unknown intersection between prayer and work, God indwells our humble offering—God indwells us—and turns human actions into spiritual awakenings.
What are the chances that of all 1.59629 quadrillion square feet of physical land on planet Earth, three major world religions are literally fighting over one single rock?
I believe that people are holy because they’re made in the image of God, and a place can be holy when God is present—but no place is so holy that it’s worth shedding the blood of those who bear the image of God.
As one would expect, the Pope’s schedule is quite disciplined—he wakes up at four o’clock each morning and runs on the treadmill for an hour. I’m totally kidding. Nobody’s knees have time for that.