Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Sunday School

When I was a kid, we used to compete at Sunday School to see who could memorize the most scripture by heart. Besides John 3:16, the all time favorite was John 11:35, "Jesus wept." The shortest verse in the Bible; only two words. A freebie.

It's about how a friend of Jesus, Lazarus, gets sick. His sisters run off to fetch Jesus, but by the time Jesus can get away from the Messiah business, poor ol' Lazarus has died in the meantime. When Jesus finds out that his buddy Lazarus is dead, he's real broken up about it. "Jesus wept."

Now everybody is real impressed with the show of emotion, but his friends take Jesus aside. "You know, the sympathy is really nice, but you being the Messiah and all, we were hoping for a little more." Jesus takes the hint and then and there raises Lazarus up from the dead. Once again, Jesus saves the day and everybody's happy. (Especially Lazarus and his sisters.)

All this happened a few years before the rebellion against Rome. It didn't go well for the Jews, and Jerusalem didn't fare any better than
Gamla and the rebels in Galilee. The Romans took their sweet time and then finally stormed and took the holy city, destroyed the Temple and slaughtered anyone that had managed to survive the siege. Jerusalem was leveled, and then to add insult to injury, less than a century later the Romans founded a pagan city on the ruins and called it Aelia Capitolina. They built a temple to Zeus on the temple mount to rub in their victory over the Jews, and another temple to Aphrodite on Golgotha (Where Jesus was crucified.) to stick it to the Christians, who they liked only a little more than the Jews.

The Romans built fortifications for their new city Aelia Capitolina, included 4 gates – and no wall. Not only that, only one was at the entrance to the city. Another one stood half a kilometer north out of town and two more so called "gates" were in the city center. Our guide Nachum claims that this was something the Romans did to demonstrate power, but to me it looks like a bureaucratic snafu – someone budgeted for 4 gates and forgot to allocate funds for the wall. Despite my objections, Nachum maintains that the Romans did this all over the empire, including in Rome. I counter that it only proves that they were consistently incompetent, no more. My friends duly noted Nachum's opinion and not mine because he claims to be one of the examiners for the exam to be certified. (But then, if he's inventing tales glorifying inept Romans, then it's likely that he's not above impersonating an examiner.)

Nevertheless, the city gate was very impressive. One main entrance was flanked by two smaller ones, and on the other side was a huge half circle plaza with a statue of the emperor or Zeus on a pillar. Today the Damascus Gate built by the Ottomans 500 years ago stands on the ruins of the Roman/Byzantine one, but you can still see one of the minor gates below serving as foundation for the 16th century one.

And then in one of those strange twists of history, the Romans converted to Christianity. Most people don't realize that the Byzantines were no more than the same mean ol' Romans that had simply switched from idols to icons. This brings us to the Byzantine period.

When you are studying the land of Israel in the Roman Period, Jesus doesn't figure in. He wasn't a player; working miracles and being the Messiah don't cut the mustard. But when you come to the Byzantine Period, it's a different story. A lot of things had changed since Lazarus rose from the dead.

One of the first things the Byzantines did was change the name of Aelia Capitolina back to Jerusalem. It was confusing for little Byzantine kids in Sunday School, memorizing Bible verses about Jerusalem and then the grown ups had to explain that it meant Aelia Capitolina. Changing the name back to Jerusalem made it a lot easier for everybody. Not only that, they built churches.

Now everybody knows that Constantine the Great was the first Byzantine emperor, but it's a little know fact that he never went to Sunday School. When he was a little boy he didn't have to go because he was a heathen, and even after he got saved he was just too busy running his empire business.

One Sunday morning his mom,
Helena, dropped by the palace.
"Constantine the Great, Sweetie, I think you should come to church with me this morning."
Constantine saw where this was going. The last thing he needed was for the palace guard to see him tagging along behind him mommy to Sunday School. In no time they would have him memorizing Bible verses.
"Mom, I've got a better idea. I think you should go to the holy land."

So Helena went to Jerusalem. She walked through the gate, took one look up at the statue of Zeus and told the city fathers to pull the dang thing down and put up something more appropriate to the city of our Lord. In a jiffy they had the statue down, sawed off the lightning bolt, and drilled a hole in its place and then inserted a golden staff. They shaved off the helmet and a sculptor chiseled away until it looked like long hair. By the time Helena left town, a statue of the Good Shepherd was standing on the pillar as good as new, without making a dent in the city wall fund.

Helena's mission was to find the very places Jesus had been, in particular the ones connected with his crucifixion, and to build churches there. She marched down the Cardo, which is Latin for "Main Street", and stopped smack in front of the temple of Aphrodite, which is Latin for Hustler magazine.

"Isn't this Golgotha?"
"Yes, ma'am." The town fathers blushed. (Who would have thought that the old bag was so well informed on holy places.)
"What in carnation is that abomination doing on the passion of our Lord?!!"
A few town fathers snickered.

Helena demanded that they tear down the temple, get rid of those outrageous statues of naked women and build the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Someone dared suggest that if they left the statues it might be easier to get the kids to go to Sunday School. Helena wasn't amused.

Which brings us to my course in the 21st century. The subject for our day in the field was "Byzantine Jerusalem". This means for the most part going to churches, and being a Sunday, I couldn't help getting a little de je vu from my childhood years in Sunday School, but for most of my collogues church is about as familiar as the far side of the moon. (Somehow I got separated from the group at the Damascus Gate, so I headed for the Holy Sepulcher hoping to catch up with them. When I didn't find them there, I back tracked and found them in the museum that's under the gate. Miron, our course coordinator, asked me where I disappeared. I just shrugged. "I went to church.")
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We took the Via Dolorosa, the same route Jesus was lead to Golgotha, to the
Church of the Holy Sepulcher. There are stations along the way marking every detail of Jesus' way to the cross.
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If there is a time and place on earth that is the focus of the Christian religion, it's what happened here 2000 years ago. Its heart is an empty tomb. It has been embellished, and a dome built over it, but that's what it is. While ancient churches always were always oriented, pointing east, the Holy Sepulcher's basilica points west, towards the place that Jesus rose after 3 days in the grave.

One cannot but be impressed by the emotion, the awe, the passion, of worshipers from all over the world that make the pilgrimage. The sepulcher itself is covered with soot and wax, and the air a thick haze, from hundreds of candles lit around the base every day. It's as if an aura of holiness has been bottled and capped inside a grand Roman vestibule.

Yechiel, the other American taking this course, is an observant Jew. This was no doubt the first time he went to church. As we were leaving, he remarked that he can see why Christians that visit the Holy Sepulcher are moved.

I agree; no Christian can be apathetic, but not always in a positive way. I couldn't help but recall my brother Barry's remark after visiting the place: "This is the first time I've seen idolatry in real life." Barry's gut reaction to the religion the Romans created by dressing Jesus in the vestments of paganism is understandable. And anyone who's been to Sunday School knows that if Jesus is who he says he is, the last place you are going to find him is in a grave.

The last place we visited in Byzantine Jerusalem was in the parking lot of the Jewish Quarter in the Old City. Nachum pointed to a spot on the pavement and explained that we were standing on the northwestern corner of the
Nea, a church in honor of "The virgin Mary, mother of God" built by the Byzantine emperor Justinian. It had a sanctuary bigger than a football field and towered over the Temple Mount.

The Nea would have been just another VERY big church if taken out of context. Its location and size were no accident. One of the curiosities of Byzantine Jerusalem was that one vast stretch of prime real estate, the Temple Mount, was left in ruins purposely as witness to Jesus' prophesy that the Temple would be destroyed; that not one stone would be left on another. (Luke 19:41-44) Pious women all over the empire were asked to save the soiled rags after their monthly cycle and the church sent special deliveries of these "offerings" to be thrown on the Temple Mount. The Nea had no connection whatsoever to the life and ministry of Jesus; building a monument of grandeur to dominate the Temple site, and degrading the mount with refuse was a statement of the triumph of Christianity over the Jews.

Today the Nea lays under a parking lot. Jews park there.

Yechiel remarked about the Nea Church on the way home.
"They built this huge monumental church out of hatred, to humiliate the Jews and to one up the Temple. Was this what Jesus had in mind when he said that there wouldn't be one stone left on another?"

And my Sunday School lessons served me that moment. I recalled the story of how Jesus had come into Jerusalem a week before he was crucified. He came up over the Mount of Olives on a spring day, and as he made it over the top, the city was spread out before him in all her glory. He saw the Temple and the mansions around it. No doubt he knew that there were people there already plotting to take his life, and that same blind hatred would one day take them deeper, to murder one another while the enemy stood at the gates. He saw the Romans pulling down Jerusalem's Temple, raping her women and butchering her babes. He saw the abomination the Gentiles would make of her, and how one day they would built monuments of hatred in his name. Perhaps he even realized that the same Roman Empire that crucified him would twist his words and convince his people that he had planned all this.

That Sunday School story popped into my mind when Yechiel asked about Jesus' prophesy.
Did Jesus prophesy about Jerusalem in a spirit of spite and superiority?

"No", I said, "Jesus wept."
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The name of this blog was inspired by a remark my brother Barry made once (about me).

Real Deep follows my journey in Israel. The idea is not just to visit places in the holy land, but to turn over the stones and dig under the surface and perhaps to discover what these places mean. To go deeper.

Real deep.