Jerusalem, Just One Click Away: Holy Land Tourism Then and Now

Katelyn Zeser is a third-year PhD student in the Department of Cultural Anthropology. Katelyn is one of our 2026 Human Rights Summer Research Grant winners and a featured guest blogger. Grant winners will be sharing an inside look into their experiences on the Duke Human Rights Blog this summer and fall as part of our Student Stories: Summer Research Series. Read Katelyn's first blog post from earlier this summer, A Field Note from Silicon Valley.

For around 400,000 American Christians each year, a trip to the Holy Land offers an exciting opportunity to combine leisure and faith. Jerusalem serves as the epicenter of this pilgrimage, but these visitors often venture onward to important Christian heritage sites in Israel, the Palestinian Territories, and Jordan. ¹ For many American tourists, this is also the first (and perhaps only) opportunity to interact with Arab Christians and Palestinians, many of whom work as tour guides, bus drivers, and in other supportive roles. 

My research considers the relationship between Christian Zionism, media, and technology. Though tourism was not initially one of my interests, I kept stumbling upon remnants of journeys to the Holy Land in the archive, during interviews, and online this summer. I learned that since the early days of “Holy Land Mania” in the 19^th century, the ways American Christians embark on these journeys have transformed. ² In this post, I describe two very different journeys to the Holy Land. 

Journey #1: Adventuring Through the Archive with Jerry Falwell 

Following the first leg of my research in Silicon Valley, I investigated a prolific figurehead of Holy Land tourism: Jerry Falwell (1933-2007). ³ Liberty University, Falwell’s magnum opus, houses a museum dedicated to the pastor’s life and teachings, as well as an archive of fundamentalist Christian writings, ephemera, and other artifacts. Unlike Silicon Valley, where religious influences are often obscured, Liberty’s environment wholeheartedly embraces its Christian identity, making the presence of Christian Zionist media and imagery easy to spot. 

As a museum docent shepherded me through winding rooms full of newspaper clippings, old church equipment, and the well-preserved pews and pulpit from Falwell’s first church, she mentioned that all of Liberty’s first students were invited to visit the Holy Land with Falwell — for free! 

The museum was full of evidence of these and other trips to Israel: plane tickets, Israeli newspapers, and several pictures of Falwell himself standing in front of Holy Land sites or shaking hands with Benjamin Netanyahu and Menachem Begin. A pristine Israeli flag was folded neatly into a display case. 

Later, as I sifted through dozens of travel brochures, advertisements, and other paraphernalia in the archive, I realized the extent to which Holy Land tourism was a near-constant presence in Falwell’s media campaigns and political organizing. The Moral Majority, Falwell’s primary lobbying group, wrote in its manifesto that “one cannot belong to Moral Majority Inc. without making the commitment to support the state of Israel.” ⁴ This support for Israel was never intended to be abstract. Rather, it was a mobilizing force for staking one’s Christian identity by giving up money, time, and other resources to solidify a friendship with Israel and make themselves known to its people. Though these trips are but one  form of this exchange — and certainly, most believers understand themselves to be pilgrims rather than political actors — the persistent desire to physically experience the Holy Land remains a defining aspect of the conservative Christian pro-Israel lobby. 

Journey #2: Adventuring Through a VR Headset 

My own aspirations for visiting the region fell apart when Israel attacked Iran in June 2025. I wasn’t alone. Operation Rising Lion — a name that, incidentally, invokes the emblematic Judeo-Christian Lion of Judah — stymied many Americans’ travel to the Middle East. The logistical challenges of these trips have long been exacerbated by violence, and financial barriers have prevented many Americans from following pastors like Falwell to the Holy Land. 

This problem is what led me to Jarom Sidwell, a talented visual effects artist who spent most of his career working with Hollywood legends on films like Avatar, The Avengers, and The Hobbit. Sidwell, a lifelong Christian, recently felt called to make a change. He launched a company called Immersive History, where he creates virtual reality Bible experiences alongside religious authorities and scholars of biblical history. These experiences range from games meant for younger audiences to a virtual iteration of the Holy Land tour. 

When I asked Sidwell about his reasoning for including a Holy Land tour in Immersive History’s portfolio, his answer was simple: He wanted to go, but he couldn’t. COVID-19 got in the way (a relatable experience for many of us, I imagine). Now, he explained, anyone can make the journey from the comfort of their home. Jerusalem could be for everyone. 

It would be easy to assume that the VR version of the Holy Land tour is not as good as “the real thing.” But Sidwell doesn’t seem to think so. He described how people have been moved by his ornate VR worlds. His goal, he told me, was to bring people closer to God. And time and time again, he said, it was working — even better than he expected. The VR Holy Land journey is not, by any means, second-best. 

In my own experience, I often view new technologies, like artificial intelligence or virtual reality, as lacking authenticity or “realness.” In my mind, going to Israel with Falwell would be a more effective opportunity for Christians to solidify their unique relationship with Zionism through an allegiance they can really feel, as they inhabit the physical world of the Holy Land. But what about the kinds of encounters a VR headset facilitates? What do we experience differently as virtual visitors? 

A Final Note 

The technologies we use to make sense of the world have always been shifting beneath us. Two centuries ago, most American Christians could only read or dream of the Holy Land — until steamboats began to carry them there. Now, the ways we come to know Israel and, by extension, ourselves, are serpentine. They weave through social media algorithms, continuous flows of tourists, and unfamiliar ways of occupying space. As we are forced to reassess what makes an experience authentic, an event real, or a life grievable, my research follows the technologies that are changing the terms of our political, cultural, and social realities (and the histories that influence them). 

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¹ For earlier visitors, most of this area was encapsulated by the British Mandate of Palestine (and was previously named, among other things, Palestine/Falastin/ فلسطين).

² For more on the Holy Land Mania, see American Palestine by Hilton Obenzinger.

³ For more on Falwell’s life and legacy, check out The Book of Jerry Falwell by fellow anthropologist Susan Harding.

⁴ Courtesy of Liberty University Archives, MOR 1, Box 1.

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