Easter in Jerusalem
Having lived in Israel for many years, my wife and I came to the conclusion that Easter will always remain the most exciting, unforgettable and vivid memory for both of us. That's right - Christian Easter, although Pesach, the Jewish holiday of liberation from Egyptian slavery, we celebrate every year with the whole family.
Usually both holidays - Christian and Jewish - coincide in time, and we begin to have a split personality: where to go? To the forest for a picnic, to a national reserve, or, despite the huge number of foreign pilgrims, to Jerusalem.
We usually choose the latter. So this year on Friday, April 22, the whole family went to the Old City.
Fortunately, the Jaffa Gate was open - we did not have to languish in line and explain to the vigilant border guards that we are not terrorists at all, but the most peaceful citizens.
By the way, Israelis are not annoyed by security checks at the entrance to anywhere. On the contrary, they give us self-confidence and peace of mind. After all, if one or another street or shopping center is patrolled by police, border guards or members of voluntary civilian squads, it means that you can feel safe there.
So last Friday, all the streets of the Old City leading to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and from there to Via Dolorosa were filled with border guards - the legendary Israeli "magavniki" (the Hebrew abbreviation MAGAV just means: "border guard").
Even on the way to the temple, I uncover the camera: the pilgrims - the sea, and all - from different countries. At the head of many tourist groups are guides, both Israelis who speak foreign languages and visitors. This year, a witty innovation was introduced: so that none of the tourists got lost in the crowd, each wrist was "girdled" with a tag with the guide's phone number, and photos of their owners with country and group were pasted on the caps of most.
Many pilgrims prefer to travel to Jerusalem for Easter as "savages" without joining organized tour groups. At their service (if necessary) are the same border guards and volunteers: they all speak English, and many are repatriates from the CIS countries and speak Russian.
By the way, on Friday we happened to see many Russian groups among the pilgrims. I must say that they make the strongest impression: it is immediately clear that they are believers, and for them to walk along the Via Dolorosa, with stops in the places described in the Bible, is the deepest experience.
In the same way, Via Dolorosa is reverently perceived by numerous Catholics from Western European countries, Orthodox from Ethiopia and a number of African states.
We also had a chance to encounter Christians from India, the Philippines and many other countries. Even the rain that suddenly poured down around noon (a rare occurrence for April) did not prevent the pilgrims from making the whole path, which, according to legend, Jesus Christ walked.
We also walked - following the pilgrims - along Via Dolorosa (see pictures).
And the next day, on Saturday, in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, they witnessed the miracle of the descent of the Holy Fire. There are so many impressions that they simply defy description... Although, of course, many pilgrims are initially shocked by the loud cries of Christian Arabs at the entrance to the temple, and the fact that during all the long - and rather tiring - hours of waiting there is very noisy. But what is noise and crampedness compared to the ecstasy that embraces everyone at the moment when a ray of light cuts through a dim temple and rests directly on the Kuvuklia chapel! . .
A few moments later - after the Patriarch of Jerusalem leaves the chapel with a bunch of flaming candles - the entire temple instantly begins to burn. The feeling is that another second - and a fire will break out, but this illusion is deceptive. It’s just that believers pass the Blessed Fire to each other so quickly that you don’t have time to look back - as it burns already in the farthest corners of the huge temple.
And then, after a few more minutes, people with happy spiritual faces begin to come out into the courtyard of the temple. I have never seen such faces anywhere. . .
Nowhere and never. . .
