Pilgrims, Pools and Priests

Before I launch into my latest rendition of our travels, I'd like to complain about the fact that Blogspot.com here in israel is in Hebrew. Now I completely understand why it'd be that way, yet, there is the inevitable problem of me being unable to change the language to English because I can't read the Hebrew which would tell me where to go to make the change. But that is neither here nor there.

What is here is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. That is one heck of a building. I know you've heard about it before, everyone has, but I want you to forget everything everyone has ever told you about it so I can tell you all over again.

Basically, this is the main battle ground of the different sects of Christianity. If you thought that the four corner churches in in Palmyra was bad, you should come here. We entered the building through the roof, strangely enough. Up a short flight of stairs in the christain quarter, we walked by several extraodinarially trashfilled allyways to a little courtyard which led into the heart of the first of the six churches which occupies this single building--the Coptic church. Theirs is I think the smallest of the lot. The chapel was dark and ancient, with icons of Jesus in gold on the wall of the narrow room and two coptic priests in the back. Coptic basically means that this is Egyptian Christianity. It's a pretty small religion, so it is impressive that they've got a piece of the building at all. When you go down a flight of stairs, you reach the courtyard outside the building which has the famous ladder at the window. If you haven't heard, this ladder was put here forever ago and never taken down because no one actually knows which church owns that part of the building and therefore who has the right to remove the ladder. So it just sits there as the perfect example of their odd quarrels over territory in the building. previous to the Emporer of the Ottomans saying that there would be no more changes to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the priests of the different faiths were constantly fighting, to the point of punching each other in the nose over who got to be where.

Anyway, knowing this, when you enter the building, it is unsurprising to see that the upstairs area looks exactly like something out of byzantium, down at the front like something you'd see pre-gothic europe and in the middle it smacks of gold. It really is like six different buildings slammed into one. Off to the side sort of in the middlish area is the tomb where the Emporess Justina decided officially that Christ was ressurrected. When we were there yesterday, it was positively brimming with Pilgrims. But that is unsurprising as it was Sunday afterall. The tomb has been so decorated over the years that it looks absolutely nothing like the original. That doesn't stop people from making pilgrimage there though. They also have the place where Christ was Cruxified, but I didn't see it.

Still taken aback by that incredible structure, we had a very Israeli lunch (courtesy of the Jerusalem Center) next to the coptic church and then headed to the Citadel across the street. I won't bore you with the details of it--there are a lot of details, but it is an incredible fortress which has pieces of literally every period of Jerusalem exposed. We toured the entire thing, going through exhibits which proceeded chronologically from the Canaanite period to 1948 and then, after some deliberation, went to the mall in West (or Jewish) Jerusalem for a lunch.

But now we're back to an exciting part. The tour of the ramparts of the City. this may sound like I went around looking at walls, but in reality, we were able to walk on TOP of the walls of the old city, looking down onto the roofs of the Christian and Muslim quarters. The first, most noticable thing about the roofs is the black water barrels that are everywhere. For some reason, especially in palastinian neighborhoods, a family's water is stored in a smallish black hold on the roof, presumibaly carried up there by the plumbing. They are everywhere, sort of like a forest of blackened stumps. These roofs are rarely flat--typically they undulate strangely because below the ceiling may be vaulted or domed. I occasionally worry that a roof I'm standing on may be dipping in the center due to a lack of support. Inshallah, i'll never fall through one but with my luck...

Now that you have the structure of the roofs in mind, add strings of colorful laundry hanging everywhere, blankets hung to hide a backyard from the wandering eye, broken glass and rusty barbed wire, people in religious and western attire wandering below and the occasional impish teenager loaping around on a building top, and you've got old Jerusalem from above. The ramparts we walked have been there since the 1500's, and will probably stand until the end of time with the way their built. We were convinced at one point that the little area which jutted out of the side and the hole in the corner was for pouring boiling oil on your enemies below.

Something especially peculiar about Jerusalem and probably the middle east in general, is the children. They're abnormally outgoing.
"Hello, how are you?" they'll say as they walk by with their hands out so you can shake it.
As you reply, they've already walked past to the next person while the child behind them has his hand out to shake yours. Or they'll be standing on their porch and call out, asking for your name, then after you've called back and forth for a minute, blow you a kiss as you walk by. These kids are maybe only 5 or 6 years old. It surprises me especially that they have so much free reign in a city which could be dangerous for little children, as all cities are.

The ramparts that you can walk on end at the temple mount, or, as the Muslims call it, the Al-Haram Al-Sharif (the Noble Sanctuary). That is pretty much the walled area around the Dome of the rock and the Al-Aqsa mosque where they worship. We walked as far as we could, until some of the guards started yelling at us, then we got off at Lions Gate (the gate that Jesus likely used the most often because it was on the path to where he lived with Mary and Martha) and, on our way to the Wailing wall, saw the pool of Bethesda to our right and the traditional birthplace of mary. Only in Jerusalem would you accidentally come upon a site as holy and important as the pool of bethesda.

Though these pools were public in the past, now the entrance fee has risen to 7 sheckles, or about a dollar and a half. Not bad at all. The pools are now empty walls that stretch 50 feet down into a hole with the remnants of columns at the bottom. I probably would have gotten much more from it had I been with a guide. There was one part which was particularly interesting--at the edge of one pool that had been built in the 3rd centry bc, there was a dark hole in the ground and a sign which said "Dangerous Descent" in about 5 languages. Walking very carefully, we descended into the moist darkness on slippery, steep steps until we reached the pit of a medieval cistern which, amazingly still had water (and smell) in it. We came back up quickly--anything metal was pretty rusty and it creaked as you walked, but I at least felt like I knew what it was like to be a rat at the time of the crusaders. On our way out, I happened to ask my companions if they wanted to see the inside of the church of St. Anne with me and we went in.

First of all, let me say that this is one of my most favorite churches I've ever seen. It is the utter opposite of ornate. There was only maybe one or two decorations in the entire Cathedral, including the simple gold cross at the front. But the walls were made out of a beautiful light gray stone which vaulted up several stories until it met in several pointed arches in the cross shaped chapel. The windows were only decoratively cut holes in the rocks, but with the added electical, and tastefully hid, lighting of the building, the church seemed surpringly bright and open. Better than that was the acoustics. If you think you've ever been somewhere with wonderful acoustics, come to the Church of St. Anne's and see what the real deal is. We sat down on a bench towards the front and the tiny movement of the chairleg rippled through the entire church. They were just beginning a mass and upon invitation from the Priest, we joined the people sitting up in the apse. The mass seemed much longer than I am used to (I've been to several masses because my father's family is catholic) but that is probably only because I didn't understand a word of it. Perhaps I should have taken German instead of Spanish in high school... when they sang, everything in the entire building sang, and somehow the way the voices echoed, there seemed to be an extra note which floated above the others in a perfect harmony.

If you ever choose to go to a mass, be prepared to stand on a floor which will likely be stone for some period of time. They stand a lot. It especially seems like a lot when you've spent the entire day on your feet. I was certain that someone had added spikes to the floor which were going right through my shoes, and then maliciously put several hundred pound weights on my shoulders to push me down into them. I was extremely thankful for those brief interludes that we sat.

After the mass, we went down into the cave like area that Mary is said to have been born. There we ran into the Father of the church.
"Where are you from?" He asked.
"California" (by lucky chance, we were all Californians), I answered.
"We're students, we're studying at the Mormon University," a girl who was with me added.
The Father and a priest next to him immediately took a step back.
"God bless you," he said, clapping his hands together.
When he left, it seemed he had wings to his feet. We had a rather good time chiding the girl for her remark, though really, we hoped that seeing how quitely and respectfully we behaved at the mass, the father might change his opinion of our church.

By the time we left, the evening was falling into night. Carefully following a Muslim women who seemed to know how to navigate going through Lions gate (which is so narrow, only two cars going either direction can get through, with both of them pulling their side mirrors in so they do not stick out of the car), we headed back up to the center.

That evening, I ushered a concert we held at the Jerusalem Center. I could hardly stay awake for most of it, though it was beautiful American Gospel music, amusingly being sung by very religious Jews.

Today was another great day which I am too worn out to write on at the moment. But look forward to my post on the geography field trip. Basically, we went to every good look out point in the entirety of Jerusalem and surrounding area, and talked about the numerous things that happened within sight. The best part was seeing Samuel's tomb and the Jews who worshipped there. But to here the rest of the story, stay tuned.

:)