Jerusalem, 2016 – Reuben and I grew up as the youngest and oldest siblings of an expatriate family who spent most of our lives in the Middle East, where our parents worked for a church.  Growing up in that environment meant being surrounded by people with stories that gave a human face to the historic, political and religious trajectories in the land. From the heartbreaking to the psychotic to the mundane, our childhood years took place at a unique intersection of communities, beliefs, individuals and ideologies.

Years went by, studies, jobs, and families developed, taking Reuben to California and me back to Jerusalem.  From Reuben’s desk, behind two screens displaying film editing software and 10 years of experience, came dreams of doing independent film projects.  From my rooftop in Jerusalem’s Old City, came a landscape of domes and towers, holy sites and homes; a landscape of stories to tell.  From my sabbatical filmmaking course, I was enthusiastic to dream alongside him and ready to try out my new skills.

Church bells and prayers from the mosque are part of the soundtrack of my days in Jerusalem.  Among the loudest are the bells of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, on the site where Jesus was crucified and resurrected. These bells are the background noise that reminds the city of the Christian communities present here for millenia.

For local Christians, Sabt i’Nour, or the Miracle of Holy Fire, is the apex of their year, when they march into the Holy Sepulchre beating drums and cheering.  Having lived here for years, we had some awareness of the fervour and importance surrounding the day and the church.  I attended the ceremony once maybe 15 years ago and have a clear memory of myself saying, ‘This is one of those religious events where people get crushed to death.’

During the ceremony, the church’s thick grey ancient walls were heaving, and people hung off every piece of scaffolding or small platform they could find in anticipation of the holy light.  Thousands entered, camping out for hours, and waited for the miracle.  The masses were sweating and pushing and the ubiquitous police calmed a scuffle or two. Worshippers chanted, singing and praying in Romanian, Russian, Greek, Armenian, Arabic.  Then, around noon, the rotunda darkened.  The patriarch emerged from Jesus’ tomb, massive candles in hand, and shared fire among the thousands.  It was as if the air was sucked out of the room.  A stream of lit candles rippled out the church’s one exit.  I remember thinking, “We might die in here.”  Then fifteen years passed, and recollecting the experience, we thought, “This is our film.”

And so we began Cistern Films, and this is our first story.  The Holy Fire ceremony ‘sparked,’ (pun intended) our imagination, and led us to explore the world, in which it all takes place.  The church that marks the foundational moment of the Christian faith is shared between 6 different denominations in a delicate dance, and hosts pilgrims from far and near.  And each of these communities is dwindling as the Christian minority among Muslims and Jews faces challenges that threaten their presence in Jerusalem.  

Our film shoot introduced us to the “Seeds of Better Life Center,” a group of community organizers who manage everything from holiday celebrations to funerals to first aid in the square kilometer of the Old City where everyone knows everyone.  

We met a Syrian Orthodox priest who sang the Lord’s prayer to us in Aramaic, a Franciscan friar who we interviewed in a Crusader chapel.  We listened to the breathtaking and ancient Armenian liturgy during the foot-washing ceremony, and chatted with an Ethiopian monk living on top of the Holy Sepulchre.  We were nearly smashed to death following the crowds of young local Christians marching their way down to the Holy Sepulchre waving crosses like swords and chanting “The light is coming.”

Throughout “Holy Week,” before Easter, we ran from one service to the next, in between chasing Greek Orthodox scouts marching bands and downing plates of hummus.  We did our best to capture the unique energy and dynamics of the place, its people, and their faith, and look forward to sharing it with you in Holy Fire.