After less than 5 hours of sleep I very confusedly woke up to my alarm at 5 am this morning, wondering what on earth that obnoxious sound coming from my phone was (despite the fact that it’s the exact same alarm I use every morning). Then I quickly remembered: it’s Easter!!! I met up with friends and went down to the bus stop at 5:30, making it to the Garden Tomb just a few minutes before the gates opened at 6. We enjoyed some confused looks from the bus driver wondering what on earth three foreigners were doing on his bus before dawn.
There was already a huge group of people waiting at the gates of the Garden when we got there, but we actually managed to file inside in a quite orderly fashion and found seats just next to and a little behind the podium they had set up. Now to back up a bit, the Garden Tomb is the place Protestants believe the tomb of Jesus was located, (meaning the site of Jesus’ burial and resurrection). The reasoning behind this belief is that this tomb is cut out of the rock, items found around it indicate it was the tomb of a rich man (so it could have belonged to Joseph of Arimathea), it’s located near a garden, and a rock face very close by resembles a skull (Golgatha). These all match up with descriptions of Jesus' tomb in the gospels. The pastor opened the service by saying, “On a morning quite like this one, almost 2000 years ago, an incredible event happened in a tomb in a garden. And it very well may have been this very garden we’re sitting in today”. Talk about a powerful statement.
Up until now I have been attending all Catholic ceremonies relating to Easter, so it was nice to be back in my comfort zone of Protestantism with songs I know, a format I follow, and a congregation similar to me. It was an incredibly beautiful time of worship with lots of singing (which is the mark of a good service in my opinion). The sermon was focused on the disciple Thomas, and asking the question of how we can believe that the Resurrection happened. I thought the pastor was an excellent speaker, so that, the music, the atmosphere, and the location combined made for an absolutey amazing service. The joy and energy of the place really was something to behold. I’m so glad I am lucky enough to be here on this geat day!!
Following the service, we made our way to the Old City into the Church of the Holy Sepluchre (we decided to double dip our church services to get our fill of some Resurrection happiness—plus, we wanted to cover our bases and go to both the Catholic and Protestant-believed sites of the Resurrection just to be able to say that no matter who’s right, we were there).
After waiting for several hours, most of which were spent standing in a very small crowded space, the mass began. Oh boy was I in for a treat. The entire thing was in Latin. Beginning to end. And, it lasted 2 hours. 120 minutes of all Latin….standing. Oy vey. It was certainly an experience. Let’s add to this the fact that there were entirely too many people packed into one space to be even remotely safe, and to make matters worse, there was some maintenance man who felt it was necessary to wade through the crowds carrying wooden benches from place to place (for no apparent reason) and nearly knock me and several old women out in the process. Oh and lets not forget that we’re all holding Easter candles. That are lit. I feel like the fire hazard alone is something to consider. When they brought the hosts out to perform the Eucharist I legitimately thought I was going to get trampled in a stampede, but then a procession began which has now been deemed “the Procession that never ends”, meaning we couldn’t even get out of the building because they closed the church doors. Finally the mass was over and they opened the doors, giving us a taste of freedom, but it was shortlived because soon after a tidal wave of people waiting outside the doors descended on us poor mass-goers who were just trying to vacate the darn church. At this point everyone starts throwing elbows, screaming, pushing, and performing every other extremely counterproductive action to get where they want to go. I’m pretty sure I crushed the bones of the poor fragile old lady standing in front of me because a huge man and woman behind me were two arm shoving me into her. I was squeezed so tight I could not breath for half a minute or so. It was intense.
Yet, I made it out in one piece, found my friends, and we practically ran out of the complex to the gate of the Old City. However, I’m making this sound like a huge miserable disaster, which it was not. As we were walking away all three of us said that we were SO glad we had gone. I mean, Easter Mass in the Church of the Holy Sepluchre is bound to be a zoo, but it’s definitely a must. Who knows if I’ll ever be in Jerusalem on Easter again and I’m so glad I got to have this experience. Seeing some really big guns in the Catholic church (judging by the elaborateness of their hats of course) process around in this incredible building where they believe the Resurrection happened, accompanied by Fransiscan monks, nuns, other priests, and pilgrims from all over the world was pretty darn cool. Plus it was really interesting to contrast the Protestant service of the morning with the Catholic Mass….I definitely know which I liked better (for the record, even my Catholic friends felt the same way, and assured me that this was NOT normal procedure for the masses they usually attend).
So Happy Easter from the Holy Land!! He has risen and it’s a beautiful beautiful day in Jerusalem. I leave tomorrow morning for Turkey so you can look forward to tales and pictures from that in about a week’s time!!
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