I had always had an image in my mind of a dark barren valley, painted in murky shades of sand and grey. It was surrounded by harsh mountains with jagged peaks reaching into the sky like tentacles...

Who was this Man? Was He a prophet, or much more? The multitudes had followed Him to the Mount of Beatitudes, desperately seeking that answer.

In this ancient part of Jerusalem, where our Lord entered the city 2,000 years before, I stood, solemnly absorbing its significance. Near me, a score of people circled their tour guide, listening...

I watched as they drug the woman up the uneven steps, limp and bleeding, and when they reached the top, they dropped her near His feet.