Tragic irony in Jerusalem
On Palm Sunday this year, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, was prevented from entering the Church of the Holy Sepulchre by Israeli security forces, ostensibly for his own safety and wellbeing, but without any prior warning or discussion. The cardinal was expecting to offer Mass of Palm Sunday, which traditionally begins the sequence of services and prayers that we know as Holy Week, recalling the events that led to Jesus’s crucifixion and resurrection. The gathering had already been scaled back due to the restrictions on public events because of the conflict in the region, and the usual procession and large congregation had been cancelled.
There is a certain tragic irony in the fact that the cardinal was prevented from entering the church in order to commemorate Jesus’s entry into that very city, more than two thousand years previously.
It may not be on the same level, but I am sure that many of us have a story of interrupted ringing. Perhaps it was the predictable lock-out on an outing where the key-holder had dates muddles and didn’t show up. Perhaps it was the irate neighbour who caused so much commotion that the peal attempt had to be abandoned after an hour’s ringing. Or perhaps it was the erstwhile churchwarden who declared that everyone present needed to produce their enhanced DBS certificate and evidence of safeguarding training before unlocking the tower door.
There is something particularly unsettling about not being able to arrive as expected. The preparations, the journey, the psychological readiness all contribute to arriving well, so when this is prevented it is particularly disruptive. It challenges our understanding of what we thought we were here to do.
We should grieve with and for the people of Jerusalem, and Iran, and Lebanon, and Gaza, and so many other places, where those disruptions are now a regular and all too predictable occurrence.
But we should also find hope in the Easter message, that those disruptions can clear the way for something far greater than we had first imagined. I hope and pray that new life can come out of the conflicts that we see playing out across the world at the moment, and without much more pain and destruction. And I hope that your post-Easter tours and outings are blessed with as few lock-outs as possible!
Max Drinkwater
