It is easy to find the Tomb of Lazarus
depressing. For one thing, it lies
behind a formidable thirty foot high barrier, separating Palestinian Bethany
from Israeli Jerusalem. Until recently,
Bethany was an easy one and a half mile direct walk from Jerusalem, so that
after our Lord left Bethany to enter Jerusalem in triumph and cleanse the
Temple, He returned to spend the night there (Mk. 11:1-11). Ever since then, pilgrims have retraced His
triumphant steps from Bethany to Jerusalem.
But no longer: since the erection
of the barrier, pilgrims must now drive the much longer way around to enter
Bethany, and the venerable route followed for centuries is now cut off. This isolation of Bethany behind the barrier
impacts directly upon its welfare, and fewer and fewer now come to venerate the
tomb of Lazarus. Bethany seems to be
living up to its name, which means (according to St. Jerome) “house of
affliction”.
There
is another reason why sensitive souls might find the tomb of Lazarus depressing—it
is in a depressed state. Formerly the
tomb was splendidly adorned by a Christian church. In the pilgrim Egeria’s day in the fourth
century, the tomb part of a large basilica structure and was the center of
excited pilgrimage. In a record of her
visit there, she writes, “[On Lazarus Saturday] the archdeacon makes this
announcement: ‘At one o’clock today let us all be ready at the Lazarium.’ Just on one o’clock everyone arrives at the
Lazarium, which is Bethany, about two miles away from the city. About half a mile before you get to the
Lazarium from Jerusalem there is a church by the road. It is the spot where
Lazarus’ sister Mary met the Lord. All
the monks meet the bishop when he arrives there and the people go into the
church they have one hymn and an antiphon and a reading from the Gospel then
after a prayer, everyone is blessed and they go on with singing to the
Lazarium. By the time they arrive there
so many people have collected that they fill not only the Lazarium itself but
all the field around.” The Lazarium
visited by Egeria is no more. The
building is now in Muslim hands, and not surprisingly they take no pains to beautify
a Christian site. One comes upon a small
orange sign announcing in Hebrew, Arabic, and English “LAZARUS TOMB”, and asks
oneself, “Is this it? This is the historic
Lazarium?” Yep, this is it.
One reaches the tomb itself by
climbing down a steep set of steps, facing backwards as if descending a
ladder. One wonders how the Christians
of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia make their annual procession
there on Lazarus Saturday, since the climb cannot be done with any kind of
liturgical grace, especially in a cassock.
At the bottom of the steps, one finds an ante-chamber and must again
crawl through a kind of manhole in the floor to reach the actual burial place
of Lazarus. Some have suggested that
originally both the tomb and its ante-chamber were on the same level, but that
with the passage of years limestone from the ceiling fell down and thus raised
the level of the ante-chamber. My
diaconal companion and I made the long climb down and at the bottom found
absolutely nothing of note. We sang the
tropar for Lazarus Saturday “By raising Lazarus from the dead before Your
Passion You confirmed the universal resurrection, O Christ God” in a kind of
devotional defiance, trying to adorn with mere words a place tragically lacking
any other fitting adornment.
Perhaps
there is a lesson for us even in the depressing state of the former
Lazarium. To continue reading, please click here.
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