That Pope John Paul II will make headlines and history this week in the Middle East is certain. Less clear is whether it will be for the reasons he would wish.
Jewish-Christian inter-faith activists are unanimous in characterising the Polish-born Karol Wojtyla as among the most significant advocates of reconciliation in the past two millennia - a veritable "revolutionary," in the words of David Rosen, the former chief rabbi of Ireland who now heads the Israel office of the Anti-Defamation League.
And the Pope has made abundantly clear in the weeks ahead of his six-day visit to Israel and the Palestinian territories that reconciliation is his principal aim. He has spoken of his desire to help harmonise relations between the three great monotheistic faiths, taken extraordinary pains to prepare a balanced itinerary that takes heed of all the acute religious and political sensitivities, and highlighted this entirely non-coincidental millennial pilgrimage to the Holy Land as the culmination of his 22-year papacy.
And yet, because of those sensitivities in a region where Jew, Christian and Muslim are all-too-often more inclined to try and score points off each other than work together for a common cause, there is no guarantee that papal goodwill can prevail.
Pragmatists like Rabbi Rosen are wholeheartedly supportive of John Paul II and his determination to spread peace among all faiths - noting that he is the first pontiff to make an official visit to Israel (Paul VI spent a day here in 1964, but managed to do so without letting the word "Israel" cross his lips).
But other Jewish leaders are far more sceptical. Last week's widely hailed Vatican apology for past crimes, for example, far from being warmly received in Israel for its tacit acknowledgement of church failures during the Holocaust era - and especially the behaviour of the pontiff at the time, Pius XII - was roundly criticised by Israel's Chief Rabbi Meir Lau, among others, because it included no specific reference to the Holocaust.
Even relatively liberal voices echoed the criticism: Writing in the left-wing daily Ha'aretz this weekend, columnist Yoel Marcus sarcastically advised the Pope not to forget his medication en route to Israel, so that, "while asking forgiveness for the acts of injustice that Christians have committed against the Jews, you don't forget a second time to mention that minor event in history called the Holocaust."
The sensitivities are not only one-sided, of course. The Palestinians take umbrage at Israel's assertion that, by spending his six nights in Jerusalem, the Pope is recognising Israel's sovereignty in the disputed city - and are trying to claim, indeed, that by staying at a Vatican residence in the city's eastern half, he is affirming Palestinian rights here. Officials in Yasser Arafat's Palestinian Authority mutter bitterly that only one day of the six is to be spent in their territory.
Israeli officials complain at the implied "balance of suffering" that sees John Paul II visiting the West Bank's Dehaishe refugee camp one day, and touring the Yad Vashem Holocaust Memorial the next. And the Vatican, through its harassed spokesmen, reiterates time and again that this is intended as a spiritual journey, not a political act, that no parallels are being drawn between different peoples' suffering, that no recognition is implied by this ceremony, no slight indicated by that event left off the final itinerary.
Compounding all these sensitivities are two other acute and inescapable areas of concern: the Pope's health, and his security.
John Paul II, who turns 80 in May, is clearly unwell, suffering from Parkinson's disease among other ailments. Medical teams will trail in his wake from the moment he flies in from Jordan on Tuesday; a medical helicopter will hover nearby.
Ultimately, of course, the Pope's health is in the lap of the forces above. And some might say that divine intervention has already been in evidence as regards his security. Last week, at the Mount of Beatitudes on the banks of the Sea of Galilee - where Jesus gave his Sermon on the Mount and John Paul II is to hold the largest Mass of his visit - part of the stage collapsed. The usual round of blame-dodging ensued, and the stage has now been reconstructed - to the correct engineering specifications this time. Had the collapse occurred during the Mass itself, the potential consequences do not bear contemplating.
Given the innumerable foreign areas of potential political tension, religious misunderstanding, logistical chaos and more - not to mention the ticklish fact that tens of thousands of adherents are expected to trail the Pope around a country so crowded as to grind to a halt if a critical traffic light goes on the blink at rush-hour - it seems almost inevitable that some mishap or other will overshadow aspects of this historic pilgrimage. On Wednesday, his Palestinian day, John Paul II needs to avoid offending the West Bank Birzeit University students who recently stoned French Prime Minister, Mr Lionel Jospin, for his "crime" of referring to Hizbullah guerrillas as "terrorists".
On Thursday, his Jerusalem day, he will have to negotiate through a political snakepit in meetings with chief rabbis and muftis, and make the most careful remarks at Yad Vashem. On Friday and Saturday, in northern Israel, he will be plunging into Nazareth, where Christians feel increasingly constricted by the growing Muslim population. On Sunday, he will have to weigh every gesture as he visits the Western Wall and the Temple Mount.
If he can successfully negotiate that extended obstacle course, and simultaneously find receptive ears for his message of reconciliation and harmony, John Paul II's pilgrimage to the Holy Land will indeed represent a fitting culmination to a revolutionary papacy.