This is not just hyperbole from people who have rejoiced in finding likeminded fellowship, though there is clearly some of that. Not does it just refer to the fact that 1200 people were accommodated, fed, and entertained in Jerusalem with just over five months’ notice, instead of the usual year – though, again, the tourist-board people here are impressed at how lucky they’ve been (in their words).

There is a strong feeling among everyone here that they are engaging in something new and significant in the life of the Anglican Communion – or the worldwide Anglican Church, for those who are uncomfortable talking about the Communion these days.

Talk of “a rescue mission for the Anglican Communion” and “a new Reformation” feeds this sense of destiny, which is most prevalent among the Africans, who have seen a big, international conference organised, in the main, by their leaders.

There is another factor, too, which makes the description of GAFCON as a pilgrimage more than a verbal device to smooth local feathers. And that is the land, described by one of those addressing the pilgrims as “the fifth Gospel”.

Organisers have spoken of going back to the source of the faith, i.e. expunging some of the innovations of recent times; but this sounds too scheming. What has happened to the participants, many of whom are here for the first time, is that they have caught a fresh glimpse of the man whom they follow.

After a decade spent wrangling about an institution, the participants have been able to recall that their faith is in a man, living in a real countryside, walking real streets in Jerusalem.

It would be wrong to appropriate the Holy Land to any particular cause. Too many people have done this down the ages, and continue to do so. But its influence on GAFCON cannot be underestimated.

At the very least, the participants are likely to look on their fellow bishops, stuck on a university campus in Kent in a few weeks’ time, not with envy but sympathy.