In a city marked by tensions and restrictions, the celebration of Holy Thursday took place in a small gathering without worshippers at the Basilica of the Holy Sepulchre. The Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, presided over the Mass of the Lord’s Supper and offered an intense reflection on the meaning of Easter in a context affected by war
JERUSALEM. “We find ourselves in the place where a stone sealed death – he recalled – and yet today we are here to celebrate life.” Words spoken in an atmosphere where, he emphasized, “the tension cannot be ignored.” The closed doors of the Holy Sepulchre thus become a symbol of a clear separation between an interior experienced as a space of reflection and an exterior marked by violence and instability.
The patriarch described the basilica as “a womb of peace,” contrasted with a world “that is tearing apart,” expressing the desire – shared by the local Christian community – to make an impact on a reality marked by conflict, while being aware of the limitations imposed by the situation.
At the center of his homily, the deep meaning of the gesture of washing the feet, interpreted not as a simple moral symbol but as a concrete expression of the Christian Easter. “It is not an edifying scene – he explained – but the way in which God enters history: through service.” A direct reference to the Gospel and the dialogue between Jesus and Peter, which according to Pizzaballa highlights the radicality of a love that asks to be welcomed before it is imitated.
In the current context of the Holy Land, this perspective takes on a special significance. The Christian community, often “tired and tested,” is called – the cardinal said – not to seek protection or power, but to share the logic of service and humility. “We are not asked to solve everything, but not to refuse this way of loving,” he emphasized.
The homily concluded with a question directed at the faithful and, more generally, to all those living in the region: to choose whether to enter into a dynamic based on gift and trust, or to remain anchored in fear and defense. In a Holy Land marked by war, Easter – he stated – begins precisely with this choice: to allow oneself to be loved and to learn to bend down to others.
The closed-door celebration confirms the difficulty of fully guaranteeing freedom of worship at this time, but at the same time highlights the local Church’s desire to keep the rites and their meaning alive, even under exceptional conditions. A sign of continuity and spiritual resilience in one of the most symbolic places of Christianity.
