Episode 1 My Mediterranean with Adrian Chiles

I believe in God.

Don't know why. Always have.

Never had a religion, hardly ever went to church,

but then, about ten years ago, just before I was 40,

I became a Catholic.

In nomine padre, del figlio, e dello spirito sancto.

I've come to wondering

if I'd been born in another place,

could I just as easily have been a Jew or a Muslim?

After all, they believe in one God

and, I assume, it's the same God.

I've come to the Mediterranean where Jews, Christians and Muslims

have lived cheek by jowl with, let's be honest, limited success

for as long as anybody cares to remember.

THE POPE SPEAKS LATIN

And I hope,

believe,

even pray,

that we actually have more to unite us than divide us.

On my way around the Mediterranean,

I want to try and show that religion actually does more good than harm.

I won't be seeking out the religious zealots,

they get quite enough airtime, if you ask me.

No, I just want to find the majority -

the nice, normal, gentle people

who happen to be religious.

The meek might end up inheriting the Earth,

but they're not getting much coverage along the way.

I'll be celebrating joyous festivals

and trying to fathom some perplexing rituals.

I'll witness the passion...

..the devotion.

I'll see things I never want to see again.

A very senior cardinal has seen and heard it all,

so manages to remain calm

as he takes my first confession in several turbulent years.

It's such a relief to have had that conversation.

'And I'll get very close to my favourite parish priest.'

If the worst was to happen now,

is it to my benefit that I've expired with a priest,

or does the fact that I brought about the demise of a priest

make it even worse for me?

Yeah, exactly. It could go either way, I'm not quite sure.

The Mediterranean laps on the shores of 24 countries

and three continents.

My religious ride around it

begins in very Catholic Croatia.

Of all the places around the Mediterranean to start,

Croatia isn't the most obvious choice on the face of it,

but for me it is,

because I'm half-Croatian.

My mum's Croatian, she's got a place on this island.

It belonged to her mother before her.

And I feel very Croatian, actually, I even speak Croatian,

albeit better with a drink inside me,

and I do so with a very strong Birmingham accent as well.

It's a very peculiar noise.

SHE SPEAKS CROATIAN:

-You can go now.

-OK.

I know, just say where we're going!

'When I became a Catholic,

'all my family, being enthusiastic atheists,

'thought I'd lost my marbles.'

All right, this is our...

It's our house, my mum's house.

Hang on, let's...

Our name on the door.

Couple of hundred years old, but quite spick and span.

'It turns out my mum's an atheist despite,

'or rather, because of,

'her religious upbringing.'

So, why didn't you grow up believing, then?

What really put me off, at an early age, when I was about seven...

Yeah.

..that you had a First Communion.

You've got to...to confess your sins, that's what you have to do.

No, I know. Hang on, I'm the Catholic here.

I know about those things.

So I went there, in this confessional whatever it's called, and I thought,

well, what should I say?

I haven't done anything. What did you do at seven years old?

So I actually went and I said...

-I said that I stole some jam out of a jar.

-And had you done that?

And I thought that was... No!

LAUGHING: So you hadn't even done it?

No, that was the sin. Telling a lie, for a start!

-So you lied about...

-Yes.

Because I couldn't think of anything else to say, what else,

you know, I've done that was naughty, kind of thing.

I'm... How do I get to the age of 48 and a half

and never heard this story?

-I just don't get it.

-I don't know!

-So you made up a sin about jam?

-Yes. Yes.

Well, I feel very sorry for you, now, at the age of seven,

having to confess for having stolen jam

when you haven't even stolen it.

I want to thank you for not taking me to church or First Communion

-when I was a kid, so I was never put off.

-No.

This is the room where I always remember staying

when we came on holiday, when we were kids. Me and my brother in here.

This, oddly, is the bed my mum was actually conceived in,

which is not, sort of, an image you want to dwell on,

but it seems significant. So, I'm sharing it with you.

But when my nan used to take me to church here,

I remember a little boy, I was eight years old,

and I used to say my prayers here like this.

I can't remember what I was praying for,

but I remember my mum and dad, laughing at me in the doorway there,

and my dad particularly going,

"Oh, aye, here's holy Joe at his work."

This laughter and fun's all for the camera, by the way.

Most of the time, the two of us bicker like nobody's business!

The only member of our family who was holy,

if you like, was my mum's mum.

Though I was brought up in an atheist family

and I was never part of any particular church,

this place here was always very special to me.

This little church

on this island in Croatia, where my mum and my nan's house

were just down the road,

and my nan, who was religious, and I sort of half recall this,

that she would bring me to church here when I was seven or eight,

and I just wonder whether some kind of seed was sown.

I just love little churches like this.

The grandiosity doesn't really do it for me with churches,

but this place is amazing.

I don't know whether it's the quiet beauty of the setting,

or the hand of family history on my shoulder,

but spiritually this place really does it for me.

I'm a keen student of the Mass-going experience.

I love little places like this.

What I would say though

is that this is hard-core in terms of the kneeling.

KNOCKING

Oh, they're bone-hard, they're as hard as this floor.

It's a serious devotion that goes on in here,

and very sore knees, I should think, if you're kneeling for long enough.

This is...

Saint Rocco,

and he's invoked against cholera,

knee problems, plague, skin diseases,

and he's patron saint of bachelors,

diseased cattle, dogs,

falsely-accused people, invalids,

Istanbul, surgeons, tile-makers,

grave-diggers, second-hand dealers,

pilgrims and apothecaries.

So he's a busy chap in his saintliness...

..but my word, great as it is in here,

I don't think there's a better view as you emerge from a church,

anywhere in the world.

Imagine at the end of mass in here,

turning round and walking out of that door there.

I think that's probably about as much

banging on about religion as my mum can manage.

So, is the Muslims' God the same as mine?

She can't help me on that one,

so onward, to the very top right-hand corner of the Mediterranean basin.

MUEZZIN CALLS

Istanbul.

A city of 14 million souls,

nearly all of them Muslim,

be they lapsed, devout, or somewhere in-between.

It's one of those cities which always looks frantically busy,

but never more so than in the days

before one of the biggest festivals in the Islamic calendar.

In the Grand Bazaar and spice market, everyone's out

preparing for the feast of sacrifice,

one of the two Eids.

It's like Oxford Street a couple of days before Christmas.

Thank you very much, thank you.

-Enjoy.

-Mmm! I will do, thank you.

-How are you?

-Nice to see you.

Vladimir Putin lookalike there, look.

I wondered where he got to. He's hiding in plain sight in Istanbul.

A staggering 90 million come to the Grand Bazaar every year.

It's claimed to be the most visited place in the world.

The Bazaar's been in business since 1455,

which is only just before this gentleman's ancestors came here,

having been expelled from Spain.

He's one of the last Jewish traders in the whole place,

selling Muslim, Christian and Jewish artefacts,

not all of them in the best possible taste.

I mean, these things, aren't they Crusaders?

They're Crusaders and Ottomans.

But they don't like Crusaders around here.

Nobody minds you selling Crusaders?

No, no, no. For selling, you can sell everything.

OK. In the Bazaar you can sell everything.

Are they Jewish chess pieces?

No. That's just Christians versus Muslims.

If you have, you sell it. We sell everything.

OK, tell me about your teas.

Pomegranate there, it's nice.

Beautiful.

-Anti-stress?

-It's for relaxing.

Your wife too much speak, you drink one cup,

-very good sleeping.

-THEY LAUGH

He says, my wife too much speak, have one of those

and I'll relax anyway,

even if wife too much speak.

I haven't got a wife. I'm still stressed though.

On the face of it,

a busy shopping scene just like you might get at home.

Here, religion is woven into daily life

in a way we're not familiar with.

CALL TO PRAYER

When was the last time most of us

heard a call to prayer in a shopping centre?

Modern Turkey is constitutionally secular,

but seems to be getting more Islamic all the time.

It boarders Syria and Iraq,

so it's heavily embroiled in the horrors there.

I probably wouldn't have to look too far on either bank

of the Bosphorus to find a Jihadist or two,

but that's not the company I choose to keep.

More my kind of man of faith is a fisherman friend of mine.

The skipper here has given me my fishing technique.

I've got to keep this moving, so please don't be distracted.

He said it doesn't work unless I keep moving like this.

Ah, how am I doing?

Super. Top job here. Very well.

-Super, top job.

-Very, very nice.

'Selatin is the very gentlest of souls,

'utterly at ease with his work and his faith.'

So, how will you spend Eid this year? Uh, Bayram?

HE SPEAKS HIS LANGUAGE:

Do you feel close to God when you're out here on the Bosphorus?

It feels very peaceful to me.

And is there a special prayer that you say as a fisherman?

Our patron saint of fishermen is Saint Peter,

and I'm sure he's smiling down on you now.

Hello!

THEY LAUGH

Hello, Saint Peter.

So, Selatin believes in God,

who he just happens to call Allah.

He, like I do, I suppose,

sees God's work everywhere.

That he's a Muslim and I'm a Christian

is quite extravagantly unimportant to either of us.

This festival of Bayram, as the Turks call Eid,

celebrates a story that's in both the Old Testament and the Koran,

about God's instruction to Abraham to sacrifice his son.

This Abraham agreed to do,

but God relented

and an animal was killed instead.

With the festival of Eid approaching, I've been invited to spend time

with a lovely, fairly typical Istanbul family.

The Geomjis own a restaurant

and today, they're preparing food for the Eid feast

I'm privileged to be sharing with them tomorrow.

This is a lot of good stuff. You just, like...

I could eat all this and there'll be nothing left for tomorrow.

-No, you eating the little bit, that's OK.

-OK.

This is Metup and her sister Melda.

Both have lived and worked abroad where they've often encountered

misconceptions as to what being a modern young Muslim is all about.

If you say, "Hey, I am Muslim," they can say, "Oh, really?"

And then, "Where is your scarf? What's happened?"

I was, like, "Oh..."

Sometimes I'm just joking, "I forgot my scarf!"

But this is, like, er, optional.

I am Muslim, I'm not putting on a scarf,

covering my face and that.

I'm not a, like, that kind of Muslim.

You know, I believe God, I'm good person.

I have a good family.

What can I expect from the festival tomorrow for Bayram?

We wear nice clothes and eat a lot of food,

and, erm, celebrate with the kids and older people and relatives.

Just, kind of, how you celebrate Christmas.

So, when you were a little girl, did you see the sheep slaughtered?

No, I never seen them like that.

Like, because it's, erm, my family, they all the time aside,

-like, "Just don't see it."

-No, you saw it.

Remember, my grandfather's house?

-No, not the little kids.

-He buy...

-No, not the little kids,

-like, four or five, no.

-No, not four or five. Seven, eight years old,

I see my grandfather buy little...sheep?

-Yeah.

-Sheep?

-Lamb.

Lamb, yeah, because sheep is different.

Lamb, and we feed them one week, prepare, love them.

When the time comes, Bayram comes,

and it's time to sacrifice this lamb.

I'm, like, I couldn't understand, because I had connected...

connection with the lamb, and that's my friend, all those things.

I'm, like, when they start the day,

my grandmother and my grandfather explained me what they are doing

and then, er, why they are doing, and then you start understanding.

So, what... How did they put it?

-They say, "Abraham had a son," and...

-Yes.

He need to cut that son, but he sacrificed that son.

-He offered to sacrifice the son.

-Yes, but that the son is free

and that we celebrate it every year.

-So are you coming to the sacrifice tomorrow?

-Yes, yes.

-Yes.

-You both are?

-Yes.

-Yes.

-Can each of you hold one hand?

-Are you going to hold our hands too?

-You know I am, I am.

Relaxed as they are,

religion for this family is more than just for Bayram.

Prayer is part of their daily lives.

There's a mosque next door

and, when it's quiet,

Haja, Melda's cousin, says it's fine for me to tag along with her.

I don't think I've been in a mosque, actually, before.

Are you allowed to take me in there?

Yes, I will, er, go inside right now.

You can follow me.

OK. Don't you need to...

No, I have to put on my scarf, because this is the, er,

respect to my culture.

And your cousin comes here to pray as well?

Yes, she's going to be praying right now. OK.

But this isn't the prayer time we're going now?

-Yes. Yeah, this is, like, we call them Ikindr time.

-OK.

Yeah, it's just, like, until the 7.30, and then she's going to pray.

-OK.

-And then you can see the inside.

Right, go on. You go first.

I'm first. When you go in the inside,

-you have to take off your shoes.

-OK.

-You can put them in here.

-Yeah.

'I really like being shoeless, actually.

'It somehow makes it more intimate.

'The decor though I find a little unsettling.

'Because figurative religious art is shunned,

'it's a bit sort of bare for my Catholic sensibilities.

'None of the angels and icons that I'm so used to.'

But I find it nothing less than electrifying

to share this sacred space with these young women.

Spiritually, there's not a piece of paper between us.

When Melda's working abroad, actually,

and can't get to a mosque,

she'll just use whatever church she comes across, and quite right.

And what do you pray for, if you don't mind me asking?

It's just, like, we're Muslim, and we pray for God.

Thank you for everything, forgiveness,

and...the life, happiness, sadness -

appreciation for everything.

SHE PRAYS QUIETLY

So, when I'm in my church and I pray to my God, is there any difference?

-Is it the same?

-No, God is God. Only one God.

-It's the same God?

It's the same God, but different religion.

But do you think it matters?

So, praying in a synagogue, or a church or a mosque?

-Doesn't matter.

-It's the same?

If you pray, er, same thing.

We believe the one God, and then different kind of religion.

It's amazing we find so much to fight about when it's all one God.

I dare say there are Muslims and Christians

who'd spit fire at that exchange,

but for Christians like me and Muslims like Melda,

I've reached the conclusion that we are basically just the same.

Funny feeling getting up for my very first Eid, or Bayram

as they call it around here. Sort of like...

Christmas morning.

I'm sort of...thrilled

and honoured to be taking part in the family's festivities, but, er,

somewhat concerned at the thought of seeing a...sheep dispatched.

It seems a funny thing to be doing on Christmas morning, if you see what I mean.

Then again, I suppose, we're always eating turkey

and that's met its maker in the previous days, so...

Got a nicely pressed shirt...

Try and look presentable.

As in most cultures, the women here are being left to prepare the food,

and while the lamb awaits slaughter nearby,

the menfolk invite me to prayers at another local mosque.

Ever anxious to please,

I work on my pronunciation of today's appropriate salutation.

I Bayram lar?

Iyi Bayramlar, yes.

-Iyi Bayramlar.

-You're learning Turkish very quickly.

Iyi Bayramlar.

'However hard I try to speak a language,

'why is it that I always still sound like I come from Birmingham?'

A morning of quiet devotion with my new friends

soon looks like it won't come to pass, though.

There's a rare old commotion at the mosque.

It's like something out of West Wing.

Could you please move out of sight, sir, we have to...

The secret service people keep coming out with presidential shoes.

The bodyguards look nervously at me,

I look nervously at them.

Of all the mosques, in all the world,

Turkish President Erdogan

has decided to come to this one for his Eid prayers.

I seem to have blundered into the wrong mosque for Bayram here,

because the President's turned up

and all the secret servicemen are looking very furious with me.

So, no prayers for me,

but at least I get to show off my newly acquired language skills.

Iyi Bayramlar.

ADRIAN AND OTHERS: Iyi Bayramlar.

And there goes the President.

One of the most bizarre mornings of my life.

'And it's about to get more disorientating.'

This is where hundreds of the sheep and bulls chosen for sacrifice

will be meeting their maker.

I understand the tradition and the importance of keeping alive

the link to Abraham...

..and I also appreciate that what goes on in abattoirs at home

is probably barely less awful to behold than this.

In the original story,

Abraham sacrifices a lamb,

but more prosperous families might choose a bull instead.

Either way, I honestly don't know if I'm man enough to bear witness.

I've got two emotions. One...

I'm f... I'm nervous about it, OK?

Two though, I'm so grateful that it's a sheep, not a cow,

cos those... Oh, yeah?

Seeing those cows with the blindfold on... Here, there's another one here.

Do you feel sad for the animals?

-Or are you just...

-No.

No, we are not. We are sad, but this is our culture and just...

We are Muslim, today is the Iyr Bayram, it's a happy Bayram.

That? This one?

I'm trying to avoid eye contact.

It's my honour to do the deal for the sheep.

The sheer joy of these men, though,

suggests I may be paying a mite over the odds.

Sorry.

750 for a life.

Hang on, I'll get my money out.

'Distressingly, the girls have given him a name. Karamano,

'which, they tell me, means courage.'

Oh, God. I hope he goes easily.

I don't want to... I don't want a struggle.

Really, I can't face a struggle.

Come on, son, go quietly,

there's no point resisting.

I'm really honoured to share this special moment with these women,

but there's no getting away from it, I'm really struggling.

SHEEP BLEAT GUTTURALLY

THEY PRAY

At the critical moment,

the sisters and those around us say their prayers

and it's at this point that the meat becomes halal

and, therefore, acceptable for Muslims to eat.

I cannot tell you how glad I am that it's over.

Ye Gods, I never want to see that again.

I might not actually eat meat again.

I came here a Catholic, I'm going to go home a vegetarian, I think.

SHEEP BLEAT PAINFULLY

The tradition is that those families who can afford to buy

an animal for slaughter donate a third of the meat to the poor,

a third to friends

and keep a third for their family celebration.

Bayram feels very like our Christmas,

albeit with better weather.

A happy family around a table groaning with food

and memories of Bayrams past.

-So, this was very exciting when you were little?

-Yes.

-Bayram.

-I collected a lot of money.

-Did you?

And sometimes they give candy.

What did you prefer, candy or money?

Of course, money.

LAUGHTER

'This is all very nice,

'but I just want to get the eating of poor Karaman out of the way.'

'Oh, no, here he is.'

When I was a kid, I always had trouble eating

the meat of the lambs that I saw was slaughtered.

It's a very different experience

and seeing it dying before your eyes.

-Yeah.

-And yes, it's a hard thing to accept.

So, if you'd been there today with me and seen poor Karaman,

would you still be able to eat that?

-No, probably not.

-Really?

-Yes.

Sometimes it's better to not know some things.

I was very upset, but now...

I must be quite shallow, because now I can't wait to eat it,

so I don't know what that says about me.

It's my first taste of Karaman.

Here we go...my friend.

It's delicious.

I'm glad Karaman finished off as part of a beautiful meal.

I wouldn't have liked to see him end in a bad meal.

SHE LEADS PRAYERS

'All in all, I've encountered nothing but warmth

'from my Muslim friends in Istanbul.

'Turkey, for all its complexities,

'is straightforward in that it's nearly all Muslim.'

Rather less straightforward is the ever-volatile religious mix

to be found at my next stop.

For the world's three one-God religions,

all roads start and end here in Jerusalem.

Thousands of years of enmity.

What must God think?

This city is home to the most holy places of Christianity

and Judaism,

as well as the third most holy site of Islam.

The tension between these three sets of beliefs

has gone on as long as they've coexisted,

as each of them strives for control of and access to their holy sites.

This is Temple Mount,

which Christians and Jews believe is the place where Abraham nearly

sacrificed his son,

and Muslims call it Haram al-Sarif,

and believe it is where the Prophet ascended to heaven.

The Stations of the Cross mark the key moments

around Christ's crucifixion.

For me, it's all fascinating,

rather than spiritually moving,

watching misty-eyed devotees of the three religions

determinedly crisscrossing this old city.

This is a fascinating little spot here,

a kind of a faith-interchange.

This is the Via Dolorosa.

Down here and round there, the Way of Sorrows,

the 14 Stations of the Cross.

The first one up there, where Christ was condemned to death,

and then up there, where he went to his crucifixion.

This is Station three and four just here,

people walking on the original flagged stones down there.

And then, this is the main drag down to the Al-Aqsa mosque,

so there's Muslims coming to and fro,

and also down to the Wailing Wall,

so Jews going up and down as well.

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre

marks the area where Jesus was crucified,

where his body was laid

and the tomb from which his body vanished.

The site of the resurrection.

Millions of pilgrims come here every year,

many of them spending every last penny they've got to do so.

It plainly makes them feel part of the Bible story,

physically close to Jesus.

But I only feel physically close to thousands of people

feeling something I'm afraid I just don't at this moment.

The chief Armenian priest here, Father Samuel,

reassures me my reaction doesn't necessarily make me a bad person.

So, right at the entrance this is, perhaps, one of the holiest spots.

What...what happened here?

So, this is where Christ lay?

Yes.

A lot of people come and they kiss the stone.

And I feel fortunate to be here, but I don't feel the need to go

and kiss the stone, or press my head against it.

It's underneath. Do these people know that's that?

They don't know that!

Father Samuel's Armenians are one of six Christian denominations

running this place.

There's also Ethiopians, Coptics, Syriac Orthodox, Roman Catholics

and the most numerous, the Greek Orthodox.

Even though it's the holiest place in Christendom perhaps,

it doesn't feel very spiritual to me.

It's a real circus,

throngs of people trying to get into the different places,

pushing and shoving and waving things and kissing things.

A kind of fervour.

It's not for me. It's not for me at all.

I distrust religious fervour, whichever religion it's from.

CHILD CRIES, MOTHER COMFORTS IT

I suppose if I've an issue with fervour,

Jerusalem is the last place on God's earth I should spend time.

This is the Western Wall where Jews come to pray and weep,

lamenting the destruction of the temples.

So, it's also known as the Wailing Wall.

All a bit bewildering, but I found a friendly rabbi, Rabbi Bob,

to show me the ropes.

If you look at the bottom stones, the ones with the bevelling,

you can see that people have inserted little

slips of paper into the cracks in the wall.

We... Judaism teaches that God is everywhere.

-The phrase is...

-SPEAKS IN HEBREW

"There is no place which is not full of God's presence."

God fills all the worlds.

But because of the idea behind this structure,

because of what it's meant to us, we believe that God

is especially accessible here and that God hears our prayers here.

Er, so it's...it's been an age-old custom for people to come

and pray at the wall, as you see.

And sometimes if they have a special request, if they have

a family member who's sick, if they're having financial trouble,

anything else, they'll write a petition to God on a slip of paper

and insert it into the wall.

Of course, the cracks can only hold so many slips of paper,

so every once in a while, workers come and clean them out.

'I'm not actually sure what I feel about asking God for anything,

'and I'm even less sure about writing him a note telling him what I want.

'But they're so keen on the idea here

'that if you can't come along yourself to post the prayer note,

'you can pay someone to do so on your behalf.

'Batya Burd, a former corporate lawyer,

'runs a charity which does just that.'

So, I know you've got a business where you...you, sort of,

get other people prayed for, if I can put it like that.

Technically speaking, it's actually a charity.

Um, so, people around the world, they come to the website,

they tell us what their problems are.

It's very confidential.

We tell them what we think their prayer should be,

we compose their prayer based on rabbinical instructions.

They give us the donation according to whether they want the prayer

said for many hours or, um, along with other people,

and we send them their prayer, we send them a picture,

a name of who's going to be praying for them,

and then, every day, we send them a little excerpt with their prayer.

We expect them to pray with us

and we pray every single day at the wall.

We send one person for them who is their agent.

-It's them...

-So, they're a prayer agent?

-Exactly.

So, they're here praying for them,

but we want them to also pray at home.

'But, surely, God isn't going to hear that prayer from home

'and not answer it unless someone else in Jerusalem pops

'a note in the wall with the same prayer on it?

'Who knows? Not me, that's for sure.'

'Having enjoyed Eid, or Bayram in Turkey, no end,

'my appetite for religious festivals has been well and truly whetted.

'Don't mind much which religion, just bring them on.

'And I'm in luck, as I'm in Israel for the Jewish festival

'of Sukkot, also known as the Feast of Booths, or of the Tabernacles.

'This is a joyous celebration all about the harvest.

'To celebrate it, you need four things -

'a heart of palm, a bit of willow,

'some myrtle and a knobbly citrus fruit called etrog,

'the quality of which is extremely important.'

Are you looking for an immaculate fruit?

If it has any blemishes, then it's not perfect.

There are certain blemishes that... that render it...non-valid.

A little spot here and a little spot here.

-Well, even I can see.

-But it's still kosher.

-It's still kosher.

-Yeah, it's still kosher.

-But it's not perfect?

-It's not perfect.

It seems a shame. It seems a shame to reject any of them.

Originally, an etrog should have a... It's called a "pitam."

The question is if it fell off on the tree or off the tree.

If it fell off on the tree, then it's still kosher.

If it fell off afterwards, then it's not kosher.

But why does it matter in terms of a celebration, if it's not perfect?

Because if you want to do something holy, and...and...

and a good deed in eyes of God, then it should be done in a perfect way.

It should be done with the nicest fruit possible,

otherwise, it's not respectful.

Same thing with the palm.

The palm branches have to be closed completely, has to look nice.

'The three branches and the fruit having been so carefully

'scrutinised, are gathered together and shaken in six directions

'every day during the festival, signalling that God is everywhere.'

They come to you for your expertise, when did you... How did you acquire this expertise? Do you learn that?

Years. First of all, it's a lack of expertise, you have to study,

and then it's experience, 15 years' experience.

So, it's a combination of theological expertise

-and very good eyesight, one assumes.

-Yes. Well...

-I'm taking pity

-on the gnarled fruit.

-On the one that other ones don't want.

-That's my compassion. I just can't help myself.

-Compassionate, yeah?

-It was nice meeting you.

-It's really, really nice to meet you.

Thank you very much indeed.

'The Festival of Sukkot involves building shelters representing

'the small huts which farmers might have used at harvest time.'

If you want to just roll it over, you can do that.

'In almost every Jewish family, making their own sukkot

'and spending time in it is an important family ritual.'

If this blows off in the night,

-I'm going to get the blame, aren't I?

-Exactly.

Yeah. How is that? Is that all right? Is that all right where I am?

-Perfect.

-Did you make this? How do you do that?

That's really good, that is.

'My house for Sukkot here in Jerusalem

'are the Shine-Markowitz family.

'Gaby's the daughter of an eminent London rabbi.

'Her husband Stephen hails from South Africa.

'They're both big fans of this festival.'

We have a sense of security when we live in concrete,

but the real security comes from above.

And when you live outside and it's windy and rainy,

it's a time to reflect on where the real security comes from,

which is up on high.

And the side effect of it is, it brings everybody out.

So, it brings the community out of their homes

and into the communal ground. So, if you look around,

everyone's going to have one on their balcony,

out in the gardens. When you walk in the streets, everybody comes out,

everyone's eating outside. It's the end of a summer, it's that

thanksgiving for this beautiful time for the harvest festival, um,

and for being especially in Jerusalem.

Cos it was a pilgrimage festival originally,

so to be in Jerusalem is especially wonderful.

So, you feel more at home to be surrounded by your own all the time?

Well, I like heterogeneous communities

and that's one of the reasons why I love Jerusalem, cos there are

Muslims here and Christians here

and visitors from all around the world.

Every religion, it's a place for the three religions.

It's a holy place for the three religions

and to have freedom of religion for everybody here.

I would never want to be in a place where everybody's like me.

And, yet, at the same time, it's the best of both worlds,

because I can practice my religion not only freely here,

but it's also naturally part of the rhythm of life.

Under the circumstances,

is it remotely possible to celebrate each other's festivals?

Um, I go to my Christian friends and do a Merry Christmas tipple

with them and they come around here and have lunch in our sukkot...

What about the Muslim festivals?

Is that just too tense at the moment?

There isn't really a sense of celebrating each other's.

I think if we could get to a place where there was real space

and respect for each other's festivals,

that would really be a good place to start.

'From the roof of their apartment building,

'Gaby and Stephen have a brilliant view of the old city and,

'if you ask me, a pretty brilliant take on the enmity

'often radiating from it.'

It doesn't snow every year, but when it does,

what's so beautiful about it is you stand here with this view

and everything's white and, all of a sudden, there's no difference

between the neighbourhoods and the houses, everything's just one

big blanket of white and you can't tell the difference

between East Jerusalem and West Jerusalem, or Arab, Jew, Christian.

Everyone's just part of Jerusalem and it's just one big,

beautiful, white, pure blanket. And I...I take that moment

of inspiration that that's how it should always be.

We live very close to a number of Arab villages down the road.

Um, we have a lot of

Arab people who work in the building, who we know.

I work... At work I have a number of Arab colleagues

and, as the tension increases,

you have to...invest a lot of energy

in saying that most of the Arab population,

just like most of the Jewish population,

want to live peacefully together.

And I won't allow that to get in the way of my normal relationships

with people who I know I can trust.

As much as this city is about the great faiths,

with the great monotheistic faiths meeting, it's also about

insecurity and about vulnerability in all parts, for all faiths here.

I think that's part of why it's such a charged, divine atmosphere,

an atmosphere that there's some kind of divine presence here.

Cos, at the end of the day, because it's so highly charged

and because we're so vulnerable, and because there is so much tension,

we are very much reliant on something bigger

than ourselves to keep us safe and to create peace here eventually.

So, it's in our hands, but we don't have control over everything,

and that's the message of the festival, is

we don't have control over everything, and you have to

give that up and say, "That's OK," and be grateful for the blessings

that we have, and to work to defuse that tension,

and to try and create that safety so that everybody

gets to live here in peace.

'Well, amen to that.

'In this city you meet people to make you despair

'and people who wash that despair away.

'I know which category this family is in.

'But I challenge anyone to be in Jerusalem for long

'before the religious intensity gives them a headache.

'Mercifully, just down the road is the antidote, Tel Aviv.

'Not without its own troubles,

'but possibly the most relaxed city in the Middle East.

'My guide here is Gil Hovav, a famous writer and TV chef,

'for whom Jerusalem is a lifetime away from here,

'a place where matters of faith are seen in much less sharp focus.'

So, tell me about Tel Aviv. I've been in Jerusalem, how does it differ?

Well, Tel Aviv is all about freedom and love and happiness.

And business, of course, but Tel Aviv is a much more secular city.

What about if you're ultra-Orthodox? Where do you go?

There are separate beaches.

You have, in the north of Tel Aviv, a separate beach for men

and separate beach for women.

-Separate gay beaches?

-It's not separate, it's all over town.

-Tel Aviv is super gay.

-Is it?

-This is the gay capital of the Middle East, so...

-So, you're...

-you're gay first, and then Muslim, Jewish or Christian secondly?

-Me?

I'm first of all gay, then I belong to the Israeli nation

and only thirdly am I...

Jewish my belief, let's say.

-There's some virulently homophobic Orthodox Jews.

-Yes.

Yet the Israeli Defense Force, one of the most feared armies

in the world, is probably the most pro-gay, most progressive,

most gay-friendly army in the world.

In Israel, gay men and women are not ALLOWED to serve in the army.

They're EXPECTED to serve in the army, because they're citizens.

I mean, this is their job.

So, yes, Israel is very mixed,

but when you talk about the ultra-Orthodox homophobic crowd,

-it's a very loud, small minority.

-Did you go in the army?

Of course. I was four years in total.

Were you openly gay at the time?

No, but in the unit I was serving

and in the intelligence service,

nowadays it's considered the gay unit of the army.

'Gil seems intensely relaxed on just about every subject

'apart from food, especially hummus.

'He says if God was proved not to exist,

'they'd all just fight about hummus instead.'

Now, you should understand that hummus is a matter of belief.

You're talking about God, belief, you know.

Try to annoy a person from Jerusalem, not talking,

-you know, bad-mouthing God - God forbid...

-Yeah.

But saying that hummus in Jaffa or in Tel Aviv

is better than Jerusalem, it would kill you.

Even the way we eat hummus is different.

If you come from Jerusalem,

that would be... That would mean that you're a crazy right-winger

settler with hair on your chest and you're a man.

So, you eat your hummus like this, in a straight line.

If you're from Tel Aviv, like, a gay person with glasses, you know,

and bald, you would eat it like this, in a round movement.

Even with your pinkie, you know, like a gay British person.

So, you should choose what you believe in.

I don't know about God, but with hummus I can tell you,

-Jerusalem is better.

-What shall I try?

Hang on, I'll put a bit of bread in that, er...

This is a Bukharian bread.

-Yes. How do I...

-You dip it. You want to be gay?

-Yeah.

-Do it like this, please.

-OK.

-With your... No.

With your pinkie up, now hold it.

That's quite awkward, that one.

Yes. Well, you know, being gay is not about...

-Do I go clockwise or anti-clockwise?

-Ah, you're British,

-so go anti-clockwise.

-OK.

-You do everything the other way.

-Right, OK. Like that, how am I doing?

-And now eat.

My God, I can introduce you to some men in Tel Aviv.

There'll be nothing...nothing left of you

when you go back to Britain.

So, where are you on the spectrum?

I know you... you describe yourself as secular.

So if I say here is ultra-Orthodox Jew, here is complete atheist.

-Where are you on this table?

-So if this, let's say,

the West is ultra-Orthodox

and here is atheist,

I'm in...the shores of Japan.

OK. So, how did you end up so secular?

To put it bluntly, I think God perished in Auschwitz.

Go to Jerusalem, go to the big holocaust memorial, Yad Vashem,

look for God. If you find him, send me a note.

There is no God.

I don't think the Bible - the good book - is about peace.

I think it's a book that is not very friendly to women,

not to mention gay people, of course, but it's a book of war.

It does give you a lot of good rules, of course,

but it does give you, you know, a co... Not a commandment,

but, like, a rule that the...the Israelites should kill the Amalek

and so it's about...killing other people.

I do not believe in it.

I don't wish to believe in such a book.

I think that we should all look inwards, look for love,

look for the things that we share together,

and there are so many of them.

'This atheist is right

'when he says the book has many bad things in it, but he'd also

'have been right if he'd said there are many good things in it.

'And the irony is that when he says he prefers to look inward,

'look for love and look for things we share together,

'for me that is precisely what religion is all about.'

OK, I've decided.

You're so happy in your skin, you're such a nice man,

I'm going to drop Roman Catholicism

and become an atheist gay Israeli Jew.

-Very good, very good.

-Will...will you have me?

-Yeah, we're going to find an Israeli name for you.

-OK.

And a nice guy.

'So, this Catholic was turned vegetarian by Muslims in Turkey

'and now turned gay by an atheist Jew in Israel.

'Time for a drink.'

This is some Croatian brew.

My mum's from Croatia.

This is from the island of Murter in the Adriatic.

He's trying to show off. As two Israelis,

we should show him that he is not worthy of sitting next to us.

There you go, gentlemen. And we say in Croatia, we say "ziveli."

-Ziveli!

-Ziveli. Here we go, here we go.

Cheers, cheers, cheers, cheers, cheers. OK, there you go.

-Give me another one.

-Yeah.

-Cheers.

-Ai ziveli.

-Ai ziveli.

-Ai zivelas.

-Here we go again.

-Ai ziveli.

-Ziveli, ziveli. Here we go.

ALARM CLOCK BUZZES

EGG SIZZLES

'In navigating this tricky route between believers

'and un-believers, the next dizzying change of tack takes me

'from a committed atheist on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea

'to dead certain Evangelical Christians

'gathering on the Dead Sea.

'Evangelical Christians in solidarity with Jews come from all over

'the world to celebrate Sukkot, the Feast of the Tabernacles,

'their logic being that, as a Jew,

'Jesus himself would have celebrated this festival.'

Evangelical Christians. So, how do they differ from, sort of,

dour Catholics like me?

Well, you know, it's really to do with how you approach the Bible.

The Evangelicals take the Bible, you know, I'd say more seriously.

You know, they read it and they believe it,

and they try and live by it.

And they take less of what the church says and more of what

the Bible says. So there's a, sort of, it's a very fiercely protestant

kind of view of, like, "I read the Bible and I believe it

"for myself, and then I come and express it with other people."

So, this goes back to the beginning with the Old Testament,

you've got some creationists in our midst here.

Sure, you've got people who believe, yeah, we believe that God created...

I mean, why would you not believe that God created the world

if you worship him or you believe there is a God?

This is people coming as individuals whose lives have been touched

by Jesus and they want to express it and celebrate with each other.

What do you think the general view here is of what I think is that

Christians, Muslims and Jews, it's one God,

we've just got to find a way of not fighting over it?

What would the general view be here?

Christ is the only one?

That is the Evangelical Christian view,

because that's what Jesus said.

His claim was that, you know, you love all people, by all means,

but there's only one way to salvation.

And so...so, obviously, Christians believe that,

and they want it for other people. If I believe that, you know,

Jesus is the only way, I'm going to want to tell other people about him.

So, Christianity's always been a belief system that's tried to

persuade other people, "Hey, we believe that this is the way."

'This "We're right and you're wrong"

'mode of Christianity doesn't sit well with me.

'I'm drawn to a couple of friendly-looking English ladies in

'the hope of a reassuring theological cuddle, which isn't forthcoming.'

Is this the English posse? The British posse, I should say, yeah?

-Yes.

-Can I take a seat? I'm finding it extremely hot.

-Mm, it is.

I'm not finding the presence of God at the moment,

-just the presence of heat.

-Yes.

-I'm hoping I'll feel

-something else later.

-Yes, I'm sure. I'm hopeful too.

So, what do you make of the setting?

I mean, it's very... Obviously, it's very dramatic,

but has it got, sort of, a spiritual significance for you?

-Oh, yeah.

-Oh, yes, definitely, because Jesus celebrated

the Feast of Tabernacles,

and I'm here to support the Jewish people, the nation of Israel

that has a right to exist, has a right to defend itself.

And the Jewish people have given the world so much blessing.

So much blessing.

My own profession, psychotherapy, in medicine, in music,

in innovation, arts.

So, so much have they given the world

and continue to bless the world, um, in so many ways.

And it's not often recognised. So, that's why I'm here.

Cos, the reason I've come,

I'm sort of going around the Mediterranean,

where Jews, Christians and Muslims have had to live cheek by jowl

for millennia, just trying to show that

we're all more or less the same and we're all under the same God.

-But this is... You wouldn't...

-No, we're not.

-We're not.

-We're not?

-We're not under the same God.

-No, we're not with the same God, no.

Because on the Temple Mount in Arabic it says, "God has no son."

Now, to a Christian that is offensive, because God

does have a son and that son's name is Jesus, and Jesus is a Jew.

But how is peace going to break out if we can't find us

some common ground? If you're saying it's a different God?

It's possible to find common ground with respect

and with will for peace,

but when there's one party that refuses to accept

the right to existence of the other party,

you ain't going to get anywhere.

The...the only person I've met so far that's actually said that.

I quite admire your honesty, I must admit.

Well, yes, I'm not very politically correct, no,

cos I don't think God's word is, but...

So what do you think when you're in Jerusalem

-and you hear the call to prayer from a minaret?

-I haven't heard that yet.

I haven't heard that yet, I've heard that in other places in the world.

Sad.

But why? I mean, they've got a right to call to prayer, surely?

Oh, absolutely, I just feel sad that they're deceived

and that they don't have the truth,

the truth of a living God that says, "Forgive your enemy.

"Do good to those that persecute you."

Our God is alive, their God is dead.

You're the two least radical-looking people, but, er, look at you.

It's quite frightening in some way.

Listen, I'll leave you to it before I say something

that upsets you. I don't want to get on the wrong side of you two.

-You won't upset us.

-Listen, have a smashing evening.

-Lovely, thank you for talking to us.

-Thank you very much. Thank you.

LOUD ROCK MUSIC

Do you know what? I feel more ill at ease here

than I have done in any mosque or synagogue I've been in.

-PASTOR OVER LOUDSPEAKERS:

-Is everybody ready to praise? Would you stand up on your feet?

It's all very joyous and everything, but it's resolutely non-inclusive.

The inter-faith message isn't for them.

Put your hands together...

It's just not for me.

They're saying, "Christ is the only way.

"This is the only way, you're welcome to join us,

"but if you don't, that's your look-out."

And it just doesn't sit well with me.

Come on, let's open up the gates tonight, Jesus!

# Gates wide open

# Gates wide open

# To the mountain we must g-o-o-o-o

# Gates wide open

# Gates wide open

# The city and my God The city and my God... #

'As darkness falls,

'the light of Jesus seems to burn ever brighter for them.

'Being the dour, gloomy type,

'his happy-clappy stuff really doesn't suit me.

'At this point, I'm past caring who's Christian, Jewish or Muslim.

'I just want some peace and quiet.

'Back in the warm bosom of the Shine-Markowitz family,

'this is more like it.'

Thank you. And what's this?

This is called skug.

Yemeni spicy...

The way you say it, it can only be strong.

Skrrrug!

LAUGHTER

Look, this is my best Hebrew I'm doing here.

Don't laugh at me, I need encouragement!

LAUGHTER CONTINUES

I think I put a bit too much on here.

Am I gonna be all right with that?

CHILDREN HOOT WITH LAUGHTER

Will you stop laughing at me?

Mm. Ugh!

CHILDREN GIGGLE

THEY SING IN ROUNDS

There's quite a lot of pressure on you coming on at the end,

because...you mess that up, you could ruin the whole thing.

It was going very well until then!

LONE MALE VOICE CHANTS

The climax of the Jewish festival of Sukkot,

and the four plant species so assiduously shopped for

and selected over the last few days get their moment in the sun

before Judaism's most sacred of places, the Western Wall.

CHANTS MINGLE AND ECHO

LONE MALE VOICE CHANTS

CROWD CHANTS RESPONSE

Jews, Christians and Muslims have more in common than you might think.

When I watched Haja pray

in the grave stillness of that mosque in Istanbul,

when I was with the Shine-Markowitz family building their sukkot,

lovely people, just marvelling at the humanity

and the warmth and the humour of the lovely Father Samuels.

Just quiet people, quietly going about their devotional business.

But then, when it gets noisy, it just loses me.

I'm repelled by it, I want to run a mile.

I've come to fear fervour.

An Israeli bloke told me a great joke.

It's a Jewish guy, marooned on a desert island.

After 20 years, he's rescued

and they find he's built himself two synagogues.

And they say, "Why do you need two?"

He said, "Well, that's the one I always go to.

"That's the one I never go to."

I thought that was hilarious

and it's true within religions, and true between religions.

If we're not careful with religion,

we're defined by what we're not, rather than what we are.

Having said all that, I definitely still believe in God.

Not sure about religion.

I think I'm still a Christian. I'm clinging on.

Amen.

'Next time, my journey round the Mediterranean

'takes me to Rome, Marseilles and Barcelona.

'I'll bear my soul in the shadow of St Peter's...'

It's the confession bit I'm worried about.

All he wants to know is the sins.

'..and come hard up against a key tenet

'of the church I choose to be part of.'

I've got two kids, apart from anything else.

What am I supposed to say to them?

'And I'll wonder exactly what so many Jews, Christians and Muslims find to

'disagree about, as I continue to ask

'don't we all live under one God?'