A Whirlwind Tour Through the Middle East – The Via Dolorosa
The Old City charmed visitors with its crisscross streets. Bazaars selling all kinds of oddities along the roads form an air of festiveness. The goods and fruits shine incredible colors upon the Old City’s characteristic sandstone buildings.
The street signs in Old City displayed English, Hebrew and Arabic, speaking to the reality of Israel yesterday and today. There are four divided quarters within the walled Old City: Christian, Muslim, Jewish and Armenian. We would pass by all four of them. In the Armenian Quarter, we saw traces of Armenian presence, including their handicrafts.
The Turkish Ottomans built the current City Wall in 1538, some four hundred years ago. The walled area gives shape to what is now the Old City. Around 30,000 people live within the walled area now.
We passed by the Pool of Bethesda, where Jesus healed the lame on Sabbath. His actions drew immense criticisms from the Rabbis (John 5:1-15). As we were on the very journey of Jesus’ suffering, the message of healing and forgiveness was central in our pilgrimage. We met the same group of Nigerian pilgrims that we met the day before at the Garden Tomb. Dressed in the Nigerian national colors, they celebrated Jesus’ salvation in joy.
More than two thousand years ago, Jesus walked this very path, bearing the weight of the cross on his shoulders as soldiers beat, tortured and taunted him. The Via Dolorosa (Lat. The Road of Sorrow) is the name for this journey. I meditated along my way, deliberately avoiding conversations with others. Other tourists seemed also to be keeping to themselves as well, walking silently. Some carried a cross in an entourage, to relive the suffering that once happened here.
We passed by many notable landmarks, and saw the town in bustling activities amidst signs of heightened security. There were quite a few police checkpoints. We saw both the military and police patrolling and guarding.
We walked in a rapid pace through the Old City. I had in my mind the imagery of Jesus here. In all solemnity I walked on, despite the picturesque scenery and all the tourist activities surrounding. There were a total of 14 stops on the Via Dolorosa, culminating to the very last stop where, as the Catholics saw it, Jesus’ crucifixion took place.
The Church of the Holy Sepulcher was grand and it carried a somber air. There were many pilgrims eager to get in. Once in the church, I was hurried through up the stairs to see the crosses. Those stairs were steep. After a 2km walk, its strenuousness imprinted on my mind. At that moment I seemed to be able to identify with Jesus’ last suffering, only a million times less so. After seeing the place of crucifixion, we came upon the tomb of Jesus.
As discussed in the entry on the Garden Tomb, there were disagreements as to the site of the crucifixion. The Anglican reading of history sounded reasonable, I thought it was likely to be closer to the true historical facts. Yet having walked Old City through the Via Dolorosa, I felt that the Catholic interpretation of history, with the Church of the Holy Sepulcher as the final stop for Christ, brought forth a more emotionally powerful experience. It had to do with the sights and scenes on the way. There was the presence and continuation of an ancient city-scape that lends a sense of historic beauty, with it an authenticity that elicited lasting impressions and emotional responses. It also had to do with the pilgrims, who, through reliving Jesus’ suffering, brought to life the message of redemption. The Garden Tomb, despite being peaceful, did not move me in my soul.
At the very heart of where Jesus suffered, I came upon a bridge to the physical and historical context of my faith. This bridge traveled across time and merged the intellectual knowledge and emotional response of faith into sharp focus. It was an indescribable feeling. If asked today whether I could indeed bear the cross (Matthew 16:24-26; Luke 9:23-27), my answer is I do not think I would be able to. Though I will.
In Israel, a church stands on every location of historic and Biblical significance. At times I found the churches to be overwhelmingly ornate. Too much elaboration muddles the key message of Jesus’ life on earth, and that was service and humility.
Yet I had a second thought about this observation. Clearly, much effort has gone into the maintenance of the edifices that stood the test of centuries of scholarship and archaeology. The churches themselves could be powerful witness of this faith because people could see that every action in the Bible came with historical backing. The faithful followers commemorate Christ and His ministry at these same places in different times, most notably with Constantine the Great to generations of Christians before and after. Thus the buildings are an expression of faith through tradition and heritage.
Either way, I felt joy at my exit through the Java Gate of the Old City, having walked the same path that Jesus did.