The Church of the Holy Sepulchre and Its Quarrelsome Custodians
Christ's command to love thy neighbour falls on deaf ears in Christianity's holiest site.
Is the Holy Sepulchre the most quarrelsome place in Christendom?
The city of Jerusalem is no stranger to conflict. Temple Mount, which encompasses the Dome of the Rock, al-Aqsa Mosque and the remains of the Jewish Temple, is probably the most fiercely contested piece of territory on the planet, claimed by Muslim and Jew alike.
Although the Temple Mount is also revered by Christians – it is believed to be the site where Abraham prepared to sacrifice his son as a burnt offering to God – their main focus of pilgrimage is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, a few hundred yards distant. It too is bedevilled by disputes.
Built on what is regarded as the site of Christ's death and burial, the Holy Sepulchre is probably Christianity's most significant church. Since the 18th century it has been managed jointly by six different denominations: Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Syrian Orthodox, Armenian Orthodox, Coptic and Ethiopian. These account for more than half of the world's Christian population.
Yet it is this very interdenominational character which makes the church seem more like a fairground than a place of worship.
The Visitor Experience
During a recent stay in Jerusalem I visited the Holy Sepulchre, squeezing in among the motley crowd of devotees and tourists with which it is invariably packed. I wriggled through a procession of candle-bearing, hymn-singing, Spanish pilgrims and made my way to the Edicule, a small chamber believed to house the tomb of Christ. A Greek Orthodox monk in a tall black hat stood at its entrance, herding people in and out with the brisk efficiency of a ticket collector on a turnstile. A passing tour guide shouted information about the history of the church to his group, raising his voice in competition with a Syrian Orthodox priest at a nearby altar who was preaching to his congregation in Arabic.
I moved on to the Roman Catholic chapel, where a priest was declaiming from the pulpit, trying to make himself heard above the singing from the Greek Orthodox chapel. When the sermon ended, a choir of brown-robed Franciscan monks stood up and took their revenge by drowning out the Greeks with a crescendo of Latin chant. The three concelebrants, in chasubles of salmon pink brocade, huddled together on the altar, preparing for the consecration of the bread and wine. The high point of the mass, this would normally take place in a reverent silence. Here it was attended with all the cacophony of a saloon bar on St Patrick's night.
Disputes and Rivalry
The different sects control different parts of the church, each guarding its own patch with a jealousy which often gives rise to squabbling and open warfare.
In 2002, in the heat of the summer, an Egyptian monk guarding an area of Coptic territory moved his chair out of the sun to a shadier area. This turned out to fall under Ethiopian jurisdiction, leading to a fight so fierce that eleven monks had to be hospitalised.
In 2004, during a procession to commemorate the discovery of Christ's cross, a Greek Orthodox priest took exception to a Roman Catholic chapel being left open. The ensuing fracas between Greek Orthodox and Franciscan monks resulted in spilt blood and arrests.
In April 2008, priests, worshippers and Israeli police were all involved in a brawl after some Armenian priests tried to eject a Greek priest whom they considered to be gatecrashing their procession. Participants beat each other with the palm fronds they were bearing in commemoration of Christ's entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.
The Feast of the Cross in 2008 saw further confrontation when Greek Orthodox priests tried to block an Armenian procession, viewing it as a threat to their guardianship of Christ's tomb. Injuries, arrests and damage to church ornaments ensued.
These are just some of the latest incidents in a long-running history of conflicts. So great is the rivalry between the Christian sects that the overall security of the church has had to be entrusted to a non-Christian. The key to the main entrance has been in the keeping of a Muslim family since the 12th century.
If there was no more to it than brawling, the situation would be merely amusing or unedifying. However, there is a more serious side.
Part of the roof of the church is in a dangerous state of disrepair and represents a real risk of collapse at any time. Nothing has been done because the factions involved have been unable to come to an agreement.
Even more alarming, the church has only one main entrance. A fire exit is urgently required. Again, this cannot be done. Why? Because the factions cannot agree
Although the Temple Mount is also revered by Christians – it is believed to be the site where Abraham prepared to sacrifice his son as a burnt offering to God – their main focus of pilgrimage is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, a few hundred yards distant. It too is bedevilled by disputes.
Built on what is regarded as the site of Christ's death and burial, the Holy Sepulchre is probably Christianity's most significant church. Since the 18th century it has been managed jointly by six different denominations: Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Syrian Orthodox, Armenian Orthodox, Coptic and Ethiopian. These account for more than half of the world's Christian population.
Yet it is this very interdenominational character which makes the church seem more like a fairground than a place of worship.
The Visitor Experience
During a recent stay in Jerusalem I visited the Holy Sepulchre, squeezing in among the motley crowd of devotees and tourists with which it is invariably packed. I wriggled through a procession of candle-bearing, hymn-singing, Spanish pilgrims and made my way to the Edicule, a small chamber believed to house the tomb of Christ. A Greek Orthodox monk in a tall black hat stood at its entrance, herding people in and out with the brisk efficiency of a ticket collector on a turnstile. A passing tour guide shouted information about the history of the church to his group, raising his voice in competition with a Syrian Orthodox priest at a nearby altar who was preaching to his congregation in Arabic.
I moved on to the Roman Catholic chapel, where a priest was declaiming from the pulpit, trying to make himself heard above the singing from the Greek Orthodox chapel. When the sermon ended, a choir of brown-robed Franciscan monks stood up and took their revenge by drowning out the Greeks with a crescendo of Latin chant. The three concelebrants, in chasubles of salmon pink brocade, huddled together on the altar, preparing for the consecration of the bread and wine. The high point of the mass, this would normally take place in a reverent silence. Here it was attended with all the cacophony of a saloon bar on St Patrick's night.
Disputes and Rivalry
The different sects control different parts of the church, each guarding its own patch with a jealousy which often gives rise to squabbling and open warfare.
In 2002, in the heat of the summer, an Egyptian monk guarding an area of Coptic territory moved his chair out of the sun to a shadier area. This turned out to fall under Ethiopian jurisdiction, leading to a fight so fierce that eleven monks had to be hospitalised.
In 2004, during a procession to commemorate the discovery of Christ's cross, a Greek Orthodox priest took exception to a Roman Catholic chapel being left open. The ensuing fracas between Greek Orthodox and Franciscan monks resulted in spilt blood and arrests.
In April 2008, priests, worshippers and Israeli police were all involved in a brawl after some Armenian priests tried to eject a Greek priest whom they considered to be gatecrashing their procession. Participants beat each other with the palm fronds they were bearing in commemoration of Christ's entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.
The Feast of the Cross in 2008 saw further confrontation when Greek Orthodox priests tried to block an Armenian procession, viewing it as a threat to their guardianship of Christ's tomb. Injuries, arrests and damage to church ornaments ensued.
These are just some of the latest incidents in a long-running history of conflicts. So great is the rivalry between the Christian sects that the overall security of the church has had to be entrusted to a non-Christian. The key to the main entrance has been in the keeping of a Muslim family since the 12th century.
If there was no more to it than brawling, the situation would be merely amusing or unedifying. However, there is a more serious side.
Part of the roof of the church is in a dangerous state of disrepair and represents a real risk of collapse at any time. Nothing has been done because the factions involved have been unable to come to an agreement.
Even more alarming, the church has only one main entrance. A fire exit is urgently required. Again, this cannot be done. Why? Because the factions cannot agree
