Abstract

Is it possible not to have a sense of the historical? I remember how surprised I was when I first saw the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, and how I had no doubt that the people who lived and worked around it surely must not have such a sense. I now suppose that I could be mistaken about that, and that perhaps what I saw was owing to their not drawing the distinction between the holy and the profane the way we do. Nevertheless, I shall proceed in the direction of my original thought in order to move my discussion along the lines I wish it to take. What I saw when I first saw that church was that it was not set off from the everyday life and work of the people who lived and worked in its vicinity. Shopping stalls were virtually up against its walls, and while it was a place of great importance—both with respect to its holiness and its history—it was in no way separated from the mundane existence which was all around it. Surely, I thought, if the accounts recorded in the Gospels took place not in the Middle East but in what is now the western world—Paris, London or New York—the almost complete interaction of historical site and everyday life would not be what would be witnessed by someone coming upon the Church in its western location. One supposes that it would be separated from the world of everyday—no doubt by a fence of some sort—and rather than be open to anyone who wishes to enter, it is hard to doubt that there would be a booth at the entrance and a charge for admission. That the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, built on the reported site of Jesus’ burial, could be so much a part of the everyday world can only be, I thought to myself, because the people who live and work around it simply lack a sense of history.