The mood in Jerusalem is depressing, war is omnipresent. Since it began in October, settler attacks on Christians have increased.
JERUSALEM taz | The Via Dolorosa, a narrow alley in Jerusalem's Old City, is separated by a metal fence on Good Friday. On the one hand, groups of Christian pilgrims from Cameroon and Mexico advance along the path of Jesus' suffering with heavy wooden crosses on their shoulders.
On the other hand, Muslims walk to the Haram Al-Sharif, the Temple Mount, for Friday prayers during the fasting month of Ramadan. In the middle, some Orthodox Jew wanders through the crowd, carrying the last purchases before the start of Shabbat. A crowd of Israeli border police officers watch the scene at every corner.
When the Good Friday procession of Jerusalem Catholics enters the alley, the police remove the bars. Hundreds of believers march singing behind a cross beam balanced by ten beams. “On Good Friday there are usually a lot more people,” said a Palestinian Christian with her daughter in her arms, from East Jerusalem. “But because Israel keeps checkpoints in the West Bank closed, many people couldn't come from there.”
Despite the hustle and bustle of the old town, the war in the nearby Gaza Strip can be felt everywhere. The Muslim population has given up Christmas lights during Ramadan and Christian Easter processions take place largely without music.
The positions have been vacant for months
More than 32,000 people have died in Gaza since October, according to the Hamas-run Health Ministry. More than 130 Israeli hostages are still held there. It is unclear how many of them are still alive.
Whoever knocks on the door of the Protestant rector these days will be attended to personally by the rector Joachim Lenz. Inside, the reception and offices are deserted. “Most of our volunteer positions have not been filled for months,” says Lenz. 35 people attended the Palm Sunday prayer. “Normally, this is the biggest fair after Christmas, with up to 400 visitors.”
Not only are closed checkpoints and war difficult to endure, but also the atmosphere in Jerusalem is tense, Lenz says. Jewish settlers live in the old town and their attacks against Christians have increased greatly since October. Armenian priests, who always openly wear a cross, are the most affected.
“But when I went out on the street in official clothes, I was often spat on,” Lenz says. Furthermore, the number of weapons in the hands of Jewish civilians has increased significantly. A nearby Torah school was equipped with assault rifles shortly after the Hamas attack on October 7. Some members of the community would consider leaving the country.
Call for a ceasefire
In addition to the rector's office, Sally Azar enters the Church of the Redeemer in Jerusalem for the Holy Thursday service. She wears a white robe with a purple stole. The young Palestinian completed her vicariate in Germany and for a year she is the first Palestinian woman to be a pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in the Holy Land.
“Over the past few months, having hope has been difficult for all of us,” he says. “We always think things can't get any worse and then comes the next sad news.” However, the message of Easter is one of hope for change and for a victory of life over death. To do this, we must first end the war. “We join other church leaders in Jerusalem in calling for an immediate and permanent ceasefire.”
About 50 people attended the service. Azar and his colleagues talk about the Last Supper in English, Arabic, German and Danish. How Jesus invited everyone to the table, something that is often no longer possible or desired in this region today. “However, I believe this is exactly what is needed,” says Arab pastor Fursan Zumot during a procession to the Mount of Olives after the service. “There is no future in this country without coexistence.”