On Sunday morning I visited the two holy places in Jerusalem that Muslims and Christians hold in highest esteem: the Haram Al-Sharif (Temple Mount), where the Dome of the Rock and the Alqsa Mosque are to be found, and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

The contrast between the two places could not be greater. The Haram Al-Sharif is an open plaza, with trees and a vast courtyard, where the sunlight is intense, as it reflects off the stone pavement and the bright colors in the mosaics adorning the upper half of the Dome of the Rock. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is dark, its many chapels lit primarily by candles or dim electric lights, and it is filled with caverns, violent paintings, and stained tapestries.

There are no images on the Haram Al-Sharif, no human or animal forms in the mosaics or cut into the stone, only patterns and calligraphy. In the Church of the Holy Sepulchre there are many images, mostly of Christ, and generally of the dying or dead Jesus, hanging on the cross or being held by Mary at the foot of the cross.

There are stone arches decorating both holy sites. On the Haram Al-Sharif these serve as entrances to the main plaza, as visitors come from the gates up into the area, and as an entrance from the lower plaza around the Aqsa Mosque to the higher plaza around the Dome of the Rock. In the Church of the Holy Sepulchre the stone arches hold up the roof, or roofs to be more accurate, for they support a newer church constructed around an older church.

I’m glad to say that children were playing at both holy places. On the Haram Al-Sharif young boys were engaged in a game of soccer, and in the smaller plaza in front of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre small children were racing between the walls that surround the courtyard.

The Haram Al-Sharif

For Muslims, Al-Quds (their name for Jerusalem, literally meaning "the holy") is "the furthest place," which is mentioned in the seventeenth sura (chapter) of the Qur’an, where Muhammad is said to have taken his night flight to heaven. After falling asleep while praying in Mecca to Allah, Muhammad hears the angel Gabriel calling him. Then Muhammad mounts a winged beast called Al-Buraq and travels to the "furthest place," where he ascends into heaven to pray with Abraham, Moses, Jesus, and other prophets.

Four years after Muhammad’s death the second Muslim Caliph, Omar Ibn Al-Khattab, conquered Jerusalem, and he soon built a wooden mosque that would hold 3,000 worshippers on the destroyed site that Jews called the Temple Mount. In 685 the Ommayad Caliph, Abdul Malik Ibm Marwan, began work on the Dome of the Rock on the same site, and this magnificent building was completed in 691.

It is hard to appreciate the size of the Haram Al-Sharif, until you are on it. It covers 35 acres and takes up almost a fifth of the Old City. There are ten gates leading into the Haram, but non-Muslims now can enter only through the Bab Al-Maghribah, the Moors’ Gate, which is near the entrance to the Western Wall.

The Moors’ Gate is reached by walking up a rather shoddy and narrow path from the Israeli security area by the Western Wall. At the beginning of this path there is a sign in Hebrew and English that tells Jews they are not to set foot on the Temple Mount, as the location of the Holy of Holies in the Jewish Temple that stood on this site until 70 CE is unknown, and only the High Priest is allowed by scripture to stand on that place.

The gate at the end of the path is small and nondescript, so the visitor is unprepared for the first sight of the Haram, where mature deciduous trees and tall pines grace the plaza. Walking east into the plaza, the Aqsa mosque is immediately ahead on the right, and as you move forward you soon see the golden dome of the Dome of the Rock to your left, and higher up. Standing close to the entrance of the mosque, if you turn your back to the mosque and face north, you are looking up a long courtyard to the stone steps that lead through a set of stone arches to the plaza where the Dome of the Rock is featured.

I walked all the way to the eastern wall of the lower plaza, and then turning and looking west could see the entire side of the mosque, which seems much larger from this perspective. The space to the east of the mosque is open courtyard but the area between the mosque and the Dome of the Rock is filled with large trees and low stone walls, where people were sitting and chatting. Stone steps lead from the southern plaza up to the larger plaza on the northern side of the Haram.

The wooden Mosque first built here was replaced with a stone structure in 715, and rebuilt in 787 on a grander scale, with 15 doorways and 20 aisles. Earthquakes in 1016 and 1033 convinced the architects under Caliph Al-Dharir that the Mosque needed to be reduced in size, in order to be more quake-resistant, so its width was scaled back to the current 7 aisles.

Al-Aqsa Mosque was converted into a church during the Crusade era, but restored by Saladin. I wasn’t able to enter on this visit, but had done so more than ten years ago when I was first here. The Mosque is modestly decorated with has a painted ceiling and woven Persian carpets on the floor. Mosaics introduced by Saladin line the interior of the dome overhead. The large cave under the mosque, known as Solomon’s Stables, may have held sacrificial animals during the second temple period. The Crusaders used the space as a stable for their horses.

All this is quickly forgotten, as you walk away from the Mosque up the steps and under the stone arches, when you see the Dome of the Rock. With its golden dome and brilliant mosaics, it dominates the entire landscape. The dome is now covered with oxidized aluminum, rather than gold, and the blue tile work is only four centuries old. But some version of the Dome of the Rock has stood on this spot, commanding the view, for the past 1300 years.

Legend says the rock under the dome is where Muhammand rose to heaven. But the rock also marks the peak of Mount Moriah, for Jews as well as Muslims. Mount Moriah is remembered as the place where Abraham brought his son to be sacrificed, as God had commanded. (For Jews, the son was Isaac; for Muslims, the son was Ishmael.) The wooden screen surrounding the rock in the center of the building dates to the Ayyubid Sultan, Al-Aziz, in 1198. The rock itself is plain and dull in contrast to the green and gold 8th century mosaics on the walls, which were made by Syrian Christians, because they were the best artisans at the time.

The message of the Dome of the Rock for Jews is that Islam has superseded Judaism. For this place, where the Jewish temple and "Holy of Holies" stood for hundreds of years, is now a Muslim shrine. The message for Christians is similar. The diadems and breastplates represented in the mosaic patterns on the interior walls of the Dome of the Rock come from Byzantine religious art. The symbols of Christian power and greatness are now mere decorations in this fabulous Muslim shrine.

As the point may be too subtle for most, the founding inscription (which is a single line of Kufic script running along the top of both sides of the inner octagon) contains the following statement. "O you People of the Book, overstep not bounds in your religion, and of God speak only the truth. The messiah, Jesus, son of Mary, is only an apostle of God, and his word, which he conveyed unto Mary, and a spirit proceeding from him. Believe therefore in God and his apostles, and say not three. It will be better for you. God is only one God. Far be it from his glory that he should have a son."

On the southern side of the rock under the dome, steps lead down to a small grotto, and there niches beside the steps mark shrines to Abraham and to El-Khader (literally the "Green One"). In Muslim folklore El-Khader is a benevolent spirit, who brings justice and wisdom to those he favors. Muslims see St. George, who is much revered by Christians in the Middle East, as a manifestation of El-Khader, so Muslims venerate churches that are dedicated to St. George.

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre

Exiting west from the Haram Al-Sharif into the markets of the Old City leads a visitor into a maze of narrow alleyways. Finding an entrance to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre involves either locating the Via Dolorosa, which leads to the Church, or stumbling into the Muristan (a Persian word meaning "hospital" or "hospice"). Built in the 9th century to house pilgrim from Europe, the Muristan was used by Crusaders for a hospital. Today it is a marketplace surrounded by new and old churches.

On Sunday I entered the Muristan at the southeast corner, and then walked past the large Lutheran Church to the northwest corner of the market. There, almost hidden among the items displayed for sale, is a doorway leading to the courtyard in front of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Stepping through the doorway and standing just inside the courtyard, looking north at the front of the Church, is a disappointment. For the Church building is without any architectural appeal. It has a square shape, and to the left of the door is an obviously newer building, also without any aesthetic appeal, attached at right angles to the older Church.

Helena, the mother of Constantine, came to the Holy Land in 326, and built churches to commemorate events in the life (and death) of Jesus. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre was constructed over the place where Helena believed Jesus was crucified and buried. Legend has it that she found here pieces of the cross on which Jesus was crucified. Then a temple to Aphrodite stood on the spot, which she took as confirming that this was a sacred site for Christians. For after crushing the second Jewish revolt in 135, Emperor Hadrian had "remade" Jerusalem into the pagan city of Aelia Capitolina. And it was standard imperial practice, as we see exemplified later by the Muslims, to construct religious buildings on the holy sites of the conquered.

Invading Persians in 614 destroyed the first Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and its replacement was torn down four centuries later by the Fatimid Caliph, Al-Hakim. During the reign of Constantine Monomachus (1042-8) funds were appropriated to rebuild the Church. But the present Church of the Holy Sepulchre largely dates to the Crusader era. Nor surprisingly, it contains the remains of some famous knights, including Godfrey and Baldwin, the first ruler and first king respectively of the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

It is sad but true that Christians have fought over the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, the "city of peace." Six different Christian communions lay claim to a portion of the holy site: Latin Catholics, Greek Orthodox, Armenians, Syrians, Copts, and Ethiopians. In the 18th century the Ottoman rulers enforced a division of the Church among these six contesting groups as well as a system of administration, and to this day a Muslim family keeps the key to the building. Continuing disputes, however, have interfered with necessary maintenance, so the Church now is much more run down than a visitor would expect.

As you enter from the bright plaza in front of the Church, you suddenly are shrouded in the dark and damp of the interior of the Church. At the entrance to the Church candles hang over a slab of stone on the floor, called the Stone of Unction, which commemorates the anointing of Jesus before burial. This stone first appeared in the Church in the 12th century, but the present stone dates back only to 1810. Pious Christians kneel before the stone, touching or kissing it, before proceeding into the Church. On the wall behind the stone is a large, more recent mosaic that depicts the crucifixion and burial of Jesus.

The Church today is on several levels. At the entrance there is a steep staircase on the right leading up to the Roman Catholic (known here as Latin Catholic) Calvary Chapel. A second staircase brings you back down to the main floor. Walking from there to the right around the center of the Church brings you to a descending staircase, which leads to the Armenian Chapel of St. Helena on a lower floor. The walls of the staircase are covered with crosses carved by medieval pilgrims, and the mosaic floor of the Chapel depicts various churches in Armenia.

On the right of the Armenian Chapel is another staircase, descending to what was a disused quarry in the first century. This old quarry is now the Chapel of the Finding of the Cross, because it commemorates the place where Helena is said to have found the pieces of the cross, complete with nails. An ancient Jewish catacomb is cut into the western quarry wall.

Coming back up two flights of stairs, and continuing to walk to the right, takes you past several small chapels. Columns dating from the Byzantine and Crusader eras stand side by side, reminding the visitor that reconstructing this Church meant building around the remains of earlier buildings.

The tomb monument in the middle of the rotunda dates only to the 19th century, for fire destroyed the last of a series of replicas that replaced the tomb destroyed by Hakim in 1009. The center of the rotunda, and the tomb monument are under Greek Orthodox control, but Coptic Christians have an altar behind the tomb. Across from the Coptic altar is a Syrian Chapel. Ethiopian Christians no longer have a space within the Church, for the Copts drove them out. But a few Ethiopian monks now live in huts on the roof of the Church. (I didn’t visit the roof on this trip, but saw the humble dwellings of these monks when I was here a few years ago.)

Holy?

I didn’t see anyone praying Sunday on the Haram Al-Sharif, but it is easy to imagine the large mosque packed with rows of kneeling Muslims, chanting their prayers. As I took photos, I did notice one old woman, sitting beside a pillar of the Dome of the Rock, as if its endurance on the Haram might give her the strength to carry on.

In the Church of the Holy Sepulchre pilgrims were lighting candles, crossing themselves, and saying their prayers, at the many altars that invite such piety. This mood was interrupted, however, by a Greek Orthodox priest, who stormed into the Church and castigated another Greek Orthodox priest, apparently for not putting a large candle away as he should have.

The older priest was in a better mood, however, when he later came out of the Church into the courtyard and greeted several men waiting there, with their children, for the women of their families to exit the Church. Moreover, there was a delightful moment, as the families gathered, when one of the large, rough looking men swept a young boy up into his thick arms, and threw him high into the air, before catching him, and kissing him with great fondness.

Bob Traer, 14 March 2005

For photos of the Haram Al-Sharif, go to photos6.  For photos of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, go to photos7.

I am writing as a participant in the Ecumenical Accompaniment Program in Palestine and Israel, which is sponsored by the World Council of Churches. The views expressed above are my own and do not necessarily represent the World Council of Churches. If you wish to publish or disseminate this letter beyond personal friends, please contact the EAPPI Communications Officer (eappi-co@jrol.com) for permission to do so. Thank you.

In writing this account I have drawn on two excellent books: The Holy Land: An Oxford Archaeological Guide from Earliest Times to 1700 by Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, OP, fourth edition (Oxford University Press, 1998), and Palestine with Jerusalem: The Bradt Travel Guide by Henry Stedman (UK: Bradt Publications, 2000).

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