Religious tensions in the Holy Land

Yesterday I walked around Jerusalem, in awe as if I were seeing it for the first time. In a way, I was. The city was very nearly empty. The vast majority of the shops were closed in all the areas except for the Jewish Quater, and everywhere I looked, I saw one or two people, locals, walking on their way somewhere - if I saw anyone at all. I hardly knew what to make of it! I remembered that yesterday was Eid al-Fitr, the last day of Ramadan and one of the holiest days of the Muslim year. People were home feasting and celebrating with their families.

And the tourists? They're safely home, having cancelled their flights to Israel because of the chaos going on here. Now, this has major benefits for me personally: I walked right into the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, which is ALWAYS packed with pilgrims kissing the unction stone, or standing in long lines to enter the holy sepulcher. I have visited that church at least five times and have never taken the time to stand in that line and see what that tiny place looks like. But yesterday, I took my chance and walked right in. Those of you who might have been there before know what a rare phenomenon that is!

But, while this is really convenient for me, it is disastrous for Israel's economy, and especially for the local Jerusalem economy that depends on huge numbers of tourists and pilgrims to keep money flowing. Everyone I talk to tells me how difficult the situation is - tour guides, taxi drivers, merchants, etc.

All that, however, is really a tangent from what I want to talk about. One month of conflict, and the tourist economy comes screeching to a halt - or, at best, a slow crawl. This, of course, is the first dam to break in the sequence of events that will effect the economy here. As people feel a lack of security, business and overall economic prosperity in general suffers (although, Israel really does seem to be the exception to this general rule; it remains one of the best countries in which to invest - mostly because of its technology sector, driven my military need). Now, expand that to the West Bank, to Gaza, to the rest of the Middle East right now, and a bleak picture emerges. Lack of economic prosperity leads stagnation and poverty, which provide choice breeding ground for unemployed, anxious young people (mostly men, who culturally feel the need to work most acutely) with nothing better to do than join an extremist cause promising a better life - both for them and for their families. Thus, the worse things are economically, the greater the danger of further conflict - and I'll leave you to fill in the rest of the cycle.

I can think of no place on earth more familiar with conflict than Israel-Palestine and Jerusalem. It is holding a lid on things for the moment, but its history is replete with bloody battles for control of the Holy Land - from the the first historical-religious writings we have in the Old Testament. I often wonder about that. A Land blessed by God, called promised and revered by billions throughout the world and history - and its legacy is one of hate and slaughter and barbarity. And I consider the words of Satan in the Garden - his promise to bring about just the kind of bitter cruelty seen in this ancient land.

Yet, Israel, and particularly Jerusalem, truly boasts a beautiful history of holy events, exalted aspirations and beautiful promises. God's eye is truly on this land. And perhaps it is for this reason that God's enemy also does all he can to foil God's goodness here. Jerusalem is, for me, a microcosm, almost a living metaphor, for this earth's history - God's dealings with man, and Satan's efforts to thwart them. Thus, it holds the most good and gracious, as well as the most depraved and despicable.

That juxtaposition can be seen all over the city, and all over the country. Conflicts develop everywhere that should be places of peace and holiness. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher, whether or not it houses the actual site of our Lord's crucifixion, burial and resurrection, has welcomed billions of Christians throughout the centuries in their quest to celebrate His triumph over the grave. Yet, it has also long been the site of religious contention all its own. The church is claimed by at least six different denominations: Greek Orthodox, Roman Catholic and Armenian are the big ones. (Armenian, you say? Yes, they will proudly tell you that Armenia, although it doesn't exist as a state today, was the first Christian nation, dating their national conversion all the way back to 271 AD. They have been in Jerusalem, and have tenaciously held on to their little section, for almost 2000 years!) The church is carefully divided into sections owned and maintained by the different denominations. For example, the section covering the Hill of Calvary is divided equally between the Greek Orthodox and the Roman Catholics - with a clear division line embedded in the paving stones. The Armenians own the chapel below the church, said to be the place that Helena, mother of Constantine, discovered the wooden cross that led her to claim it with certainty as Jesus' site of crucifixion. The sepulcher itself is owned by the Greek Orthodox, but a small alcove in the back of the small chapel covering the sepulcher belongs to the Copts from Egypt.

Bitter contests for jurisdiction over this and other holy sites have resulted in actual fist fights among the priests in recent decades. Currently, a careful status quo maintains the peace. A local Palestinian (Muslim) family holds the keys to the church, so that no one denomination claims superiority, and they open it each day. (This was set in place during the Ottoman period.) Each denomination has a set time for their processionals and worship services, and some parts still under contestation remain under a careful status quo. For example, a priest of the Ethiopian Christian church sits on a chair (rotating between the priests) on a certain part of the roof all day long, just to maintain their claim to that part of the roof. The most famous example of this careful status quo is the famous "immovable ladder." No one knows exactly when this ladder, which stands just under the right window above the entrance to the church, was first put there. Most speculate that this particular ladder is from the 1850s. It was used to allow Armenian monks to come out to haul up food and supplies into their area of the church, since they couldn't come in from the entrance and up the stairs. But as tensions increased in the 1800s, arguments over moving or removing the ladder (because, moving or working on any part of the church is a claim to ownership) became fierce, and a status quo agreement dictates that it remain in its place. That agreement stands today, although the ladder was removed anonymously for a short time, probably as a prank.

Even within the Greek Orthodox patriarchate, fierce contentions over who is the current patriarch have led the last patriarch, who was voted out because he was seen as a puppet of the State of Israel by local Palestinian christians, locked himself in his room and remains under self-imposed house arrest. If he leaves, he steps down. The new patriarch has been in place for two years, but is not technically the official patriarch.

Such tensions also arise in Nazareth over holy sites, and in a broader picture regarding Muslim and Christian Arabs. Since 1948, when thousands of Muslims ran from their homes during the war of Independence (or Naqba - "catastrophe" for local Arabs), many of them sought refuge in Nazareth, which the Jews had promised to leave alone. It had long been an Arab Christian village, but has since become a Muslim city. The Basilica of the Anunciation, the largest church in Israel, was built in 1961, and it towers on the hillside, visible from almost anywhere in Nazareth. The Muslims quickly sought permission to build a mosque next to it, the minaret of which would rise above the steeple of the Basilica. The mosque at first received approval, but through the pleadings of the Franciscan leadership in Israel, it has been stalled. Still, every Friday, Muslims in Nazareth gather to the place where the mosque is to be built, and do their praying from there.

And so it goes. I do not mention all these conflicts to mock or belittle sincere belief and desire for validation. I respect religious belief and diversity. Yet, it is this very human trait, the need to believe and to be right, that makes this land so peculiar, as the symbol of hopes and convictions that crowd out peace and shared humanity. Part of why I write this is to indicate that it is not merely conflict between Jews and Muslims that defines conflict in this Land. It is a place of equal-opportunity conflict. Indeed, those who refuse to participate in organized religion have only to look at the Holy Land to point out how religion can seem to be anything but holy.

Pictures below.

This is the old man whom I befriended on my way to the pharmacy to pick up some amoxicillin for my throat.

This is the corner of the street where I was staying in East Jerusalem. They pull out the dumpsters to act as barricades, and then light the trash on fire inside. It was still there in the morning when I left to head north.

The police still hanging around to keep the peace.

Notice the smoke (if you can see it) coming from the dumpster. Yes, it was still on fire from the riots the night before.

Sitting at the Hippodrome at Caesaria.

Catching the surf at Caesaria.

Hanging out at the beach - where I think I picked up fleas.

Ancient Roman aqueduct leading to Caesaria.

At the Ophir overlook, in the Golan, enjoying the view of the Sea of Galilee.

Traveling up north with my new friends from church. We visited Migdal (Magdala), where we found some excavations of an ancient synagogue, as well as this beautiful Franciscan church, completed just earlier this year, and dedicated to the women of the New Testament. Each pillar has the name of one of those women, but this pillar remains empty, as a tribute to women everywhere.

One of the mosaics in the church. This one is of Jesus casting the devils out of Mary.

I wanted to share my misery with you. I have been attacked by fleas, I think. I have more than 40 bites all over my body, and they itch somethin' turrible!

Walking through the empty streets of Jerusalem.

Entrance to Church of the Holy Sepulcher - notice how empty the plaza is!

The famous ladder, mentioned above.

It is an Orthodox tradition to burn candles at holy sites and as part of holy rituals. These are just outside of the Holy Sepulcher.

Crusader-era stone, Church of the Holy Sepulcher.

Church of the Holy Sepulcher, St. Helen's (Armenian) chapel.

Bells as I passed them on the way up to the top of the tower.

View of Jerusalem from the tower of the Church of the Redeemer (Lutheran). Yes, I climbed all the stairs to the top! I was good and sweaty and enjoying the breeze from up there!

Looking down on the Church of the Holy Sepulcher from the tower of the Church of the Redeemer.