Birthday stroll in the Old City’s Armenian Quarter…
By RUTH WASSERMAN LANDE
03/01/2015 16:13
Yesterday, I celebrated my birthday. Having chosen a rather unusual
way in which to celebrate it, I had a rare, yet intriguing, glimpse
into the life an Armenian priest, and an even rarer chance to examine,
from within, the underlying tensions between Armenian, Greek Orthodox
and Catholic Christians in an already complex Jewish capital…
We began by entering the usually unyielding Armenian priests’ compound
in the Armenian Quarter in the Old City of Jerusalem. Quite astounded,
I discovered wide parking lots behind secret gateways, in an area
where it is barely possibly to pass by, even with a small car.
Likewise, the living quarters of approximately 100 Armenian monks, as
well as approximately 150 more Armenians, who live with their families
within the premises, were wondrously opened to us, a Jewish Israeli
couple, by our friend, an Armenian
Lebanese monk, who has been living in Israel for the past 30 years.
The Armenians follow their own Archbishop and Pope, whose seat is in
faraway Armenia and provide services and protection to those following
the Ethiopian and the Coptic Churches in Israel. Their undeclared
enemies are neither the State of Israel, nor Islam, at least not in
Israel, yet the Greek Orthodox Church and to a lesser degree, the
Catholic Church in this country.
Following a heart-to-heart chat about the complexities of our region,
I probed deeper into the life experiences of our friend, whose family
members remain in Lebanon, dreading the likes of ISIS and other evils.
Once more, it became abundantly clear to me, that despite all
criticism of- and complexities in the tiny State of Israel, there
remain certain pillars of virtue which are remarkable, once of which
is the freedom of religion which is granted in general and to
Christians in particular.
I was witness to just how difficult and sensitive my aforementioned
observation really was, in the following part of the trip: Following a
group of Armenian monks, my husband and I strolled with them in a
ceremonious manner, from the Armenian Quarter towards the Church of
the Holy Sepulchre- a half-an-hour walk , if one is not in a hurry…
I was a Jewish Israeli woman, strolling with a group of Armenian
monks, cloaked in black with huge gold crosses on their necks and
pointed tall caps, in the midst of a Christian pilgrim crowd, Muslim
local merchants and several, particularly religious, Jewish
passers-by.
As if this was not surreal enough, I was both surprised and proud to
notice several Israeli security personnel securing the monks. When
asked who they were securing them from, I was answered by one of the
policemen that it was from several extreme Jewish individuals, who had
taken the habit to spit at the monks during former such parades…
During this particular parade, I was spared dubious pleasure of
experiencing the above… What ensued within the Church itself was even
more astounding- hordes of visitors, both pilgrims and local clergymen
were organized in a miraculous fashion, according to a strict
timetable, which enabled the Armenian followers to perform their
rituals and ceremonies, then those who follow the Greek Orthodox
Church and finally the Catholics to carry out their own such
practices.
This surprisingly well-ordered, if somewhat tense manifestation of
internal agreements between the three sects vis-Ã -vis their holy of
holies, was not only respected and acknowledged by the State of
Israel, but kept orderly by Israeli policemen, lest Greek Orthodox
monks physically abuse those of the Armenian order, or vice versa.
Quite surreal.
My birthday gift was clear: yet another astounding reminder and a
greater clarity of just how complex, potentially explosive and
wondrously fascinating this city of Jerusalem really is – for all
people.