Passover, Easter, Ramadan

Now, as these holidays once again come together in a time that celebrates freedom, I reflect upon the dark place to which we have come in these 31 years. And the pain is palpable.

It’s Passover and Easter this weekend. It’s also the middle of Ramadan.

The last time these three holidays converged in this way was 31 years ago. On that Good Friday afternoon — March 29, 1991 — I was sitting near the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, which Muslims refer to as Haram al-Sharif, the Noble Sanctuary. To my far left was the Dome of the Rock where the Temple once stood, and above me to my immediate left on the Temple Mount was Al-Aqsa Mosque. As I sat there in the warm sun, I felt the intensity of this time and place.

Passover was at hand. Sundown would usher in the week-long observance of the Jewish deliverance from slavery, the remembrance of the Exodus from Egypt, a festival of freedom. That morning throughout Jerusalem’s streets, the last of the leavening from Jewish homes was burning, the biur chametz to be completely disposed of by the fifth hour after sunrise. The smoky smell from these chametz fires lingered into the early afternoon, some embers still glowing in the metal containers on the streets.

Sunday would be Easter. Looking east, across the Kidron Valley toward the Mount of Olives, I could see the gravestones that covered its slopes. An ancient and holy burial ground, the Mount of Olives is a place steeped in history and infused with prophecy.

According to Midrash — a Talmudic form of biblical interpretation — the Resurrection will begin when the Messiah appears on the Mount of Olives on the way to the Temple Mount. In the Christian narrative, Jesus ascended to heaven from the eastern slope of the Mount of Olives, and he will return in this same manner to this same place. For Muslims, Resurrection Day will bring the Black Stone to Jerusalem, the only remaining stone from the original Ka’bah built in Mecca by Abraham and Ishmael. Here it will unite with the Foundation Stone, the source of creation, encased beneath the Dome of the Rock.

In the near distance, close to the foot of the Mount of Olives at the edge of the Kidron Valley, I could see the Garden of Gethsemane with its ancient olive trees. This was the place where Jesus spent his last night in prayer, anticipating his crucifixion, while his disciples Peter, James, and John slept rather than remaining awake with him, as he had asked.

As I tried to envision that long ago Passover, I became aware of the chants of the muezzin that began to call the city’s Muslims to midafternoon prayer, calling out from Jerusalem’s minarets. The compelling sound of these chants added a new dimension to the intensity of the moment.

Passover, Easter, Ramadan.

Although the dates of Passover and Easter are calculated differently, these holidays always occur more or less around the same time, connected by history since Jesus was crucified at Passover. Because the lunar year is roughly 11 days shorter than the solar year, the Jewish lunar calendar corrects for the seasons by adding a month every two or three years. This way Passover remains in the spring, as biblically required. The Muslim lunar calendar, by contrast, makes no such correction. Ramadan, therefore, drifts against the solar year, taking some three decades to pass through all the seasons.

Immersed in the sights, sounds, and smells of Jerusalem that Good Friday afternoon, experiencing the intensity of the three Abrahamic faiths in this holy place, I sought to connect with the energy of the moment, aware that more than three decades were to pass before these holidays would converge again in time.

Now, as these holidays once again come together in a time that celebrates freedom, I reflect upon the dark place to which we have come in these 31 years. And the pain is palpable. As autocratic forces threaten our world on so many fronts, including the MAGA insurrectionist forces within our own country, and as pure evil is revealed in the depravity, death, and destruction that Russia’s president Vladimir Putin is inflicting upon Ukraine, the fight for freedom is now an existential battle for the survival of good in the world.

Next year in Jerusalem! The Passover Seder ends with these words of hope for a future redemption, this year more meaningful than ever.

Dusan Vranic / Associated Press In this Dec. 13, 2013 file photo, the Western Wall, right, and the gilded Dome of the Rock, among the holiest sites for Jews and Muslims, are covered in snow. The trapezoid-shaped compound is known to Muslims as the Noble Sanctuary and to Jews as the Temple Mount.