Due to Shabbat observance, the enormous, beautiful new terminal at Ben Gurion International Airport in Tel Aviv was virtually empty Feb. 11 as a group of 45 interfaith pilgrims from Los Angeles arrived in the Holy Land.

The Sabbath silence was the first sign to our group of Jews, Christians and Muslims that we were embarking on a journey into the heart of our three faiths that would bring us closer to God, fire our imaginations and bind us together in ways we never imagined.

Our band of Los Angeles pilgrims --- 15 Jews, 14 Christians 15 Muslims and one Unitarian Universalist from congregations of the Wilshire Center Interfaith Council --- would spend the next 11 days sharing faith, prayer and friendship as sons and daughters of Abraham. As one of the pilgrimage's religious leaders, I was not only a deacon to the Catholics, but now had Jews, Muslims and other Christians who call me "their" deacon. The same was true for the other religious leaders: Rev. Rick Byrum of St. James Episcopal Church, Rabbi Stephen Julius Stein of Wilshire Boulevard Temple and Dr. Mahmoud Abdel-Baset of the Islamic Center of Southern California.

We celebrated our arrival in Tel Aviv with a festive Shabbat dinner, where we all participated in the traditional Friday evening Jewish prayers. The next evening in Nazareth we all joined in Muslim prayer, and Sunday morning the entire group participated in Eucharist in the Nazareth Synagogue Church, where Jesus began his public ministry. Thus we began a journey to the sacred sites of the three great monotheistic religions, sharing tears of joy at each place.

Each of the pilgrims described the pilgrimage as a life-changing experience, and this was certainly true for me. I am still reeling from the power of many miraculous moments.

What shall I share? The tears in the eyes of Jews and Muslims as they offered petitions during the Eucharist. The Jewish pilgrim who told me after participating in the Way of the Cross on the Via Dolorosa that she was finally able to connect with the sufferings of Jesus. The Muslim woman who wept as she imagined Mary seeing Jesus on the way to his crucifixion. The hushed awe of the Muslim women at the Grotto of the Annunciation as they recalled this event told in the Qur'an.

Or I can describe how I, a Christian, wept with joy for my Muslim brothers and sisters as we entered the Cave of the Prophet below the Dome of the Rock, or the electrifying experience of praying at the Western Wall of the Temple and tucking a written petition between the stones.

The power of our shared encounters with God and each other is greater than any words can describe. We each connected with our own faith, celebrated all that we have in common and came to better understand those things we do not share. Learning and study are valuable, but cannot approach the intensity that shared experience and prayer offer for deeper understanding and personal empathy between members of the three great religions.

One of the most frequent comments the pilgrims heard from others before we left was, "How can you go there now? It's so dangerous!" And yet, it is more dangerous not to go. The more people experience the kind of deep interreligious bonding this pilgrimage provided, the less dangerous the world will become.

Perhaps this truth was best expressed by our guide, an Israeli citizen who emigrated from the United States. It's her job to escort hundreds of people each year around Israel. But on the last night, as we left for the airport, she stood up to thank us for what we did. Through copious tears, she told us, "You gave me hope."

We Jews, Christians and Muslims all have hope to give to the world. It will take me time to fully find the words to adequately describe what I experienced in the Holy Land, but that word "hope" is a good start.

Deacon Eric Stoltz serves at St. Brendan Church, Los Angeles. Reflections by the pilgrims and photos of the journey are at the pilgrimage Web site, www.abraham.la.