Entering the gates of this hospice, one finds himself surrounded by Russians and Russian scenes. It is a slice of the land of the White Bear dropped down in Judea. There is nothing Syrian in sight. The men dress in caps, long coats, and trousers tucked into high boots. They are long-bearded, long-haired, and fair-faced. There are many red heads among them and none seems to know of the razor. The women are clad in coarse gowns ending at six inches or more from the ankle. Most of them wear boots, but some wear straw shoes, and wrap cloths around their legs in place of stockings. They have handkerchiefs tied about their heads, and their features are usually as hard and rough as those of the men.
But suppose we go into the women’s quarters of this mighty hotel. The building is cut up into stalls which run from one side of it to the other. These tunnel-like rooms are lighted at the end, and standing in a central hall it seems as though the windows were at least two hundred feet distant. Each vault, which is eight feet wide and fifteen feet high, is filled from end to end with rough bunks of pine boards. Upon the boards is straw matting, and a space six feet square forms the bed and home of each woman. At the back of this she piles up the bread, tea, and other belongings she has brought with her from Russia. She sleeps stretched out on the board in the clothing she wears in the daytime. The quarters devoted to the men are of similar nature while those for the families differ only in that the spaces are larger.
These pilgrims bring their bread and tea with them from Russia. In addition to this they have a few vegetables which they buy of the natives. They cook with oil stoves. When on the march each carries some bread along with her and a pan out of which to drink and in which to make tea.
In some parts of the inclosure we can see families at their meals. The men, women, and children sit on the ground around a pot of soup. Each has his own piece of bread and a spoon. They wash their own clothes, using dishpans as tubs. The pans are as big as a bicycle wheel and four inches deep. The washing is done with cold water, which is free in the hospice, but which outside would cost two cents a gallon.
These Russian pilgrims are very religious. They are mostly poor, and many have been saving a lifetime in order that they might make this tour to the Holy Land. They undergo all sorts of hardships and spend their time in fasting and prayer. They have a church inside the hospice where services are held twice a day. I have attended the church several times. It is always full of people standing or kneeling. They cross themselves again and again as the service goes on, and now and then get down and bow their heads to the floor. There are similar services in the other Greek churches. I attended one on the Mount of Olives where the reading of the Scriptures and the singing were done by Russian nuns dressed in black with stove-pipe hats without brims crowning their heads. The hats ended in a cape or veil which fell down the back. The faces of the nuns were uncovered and spiritual looking. Their singing was exceedingly sweet, and the service was impressive. The pilgrims who listened knelt and now and then kissed the bare floor.
At Easter time the water of the River Jordan is blessed by the high priest of the Church, and there are many priests to baptize the Faithful in the sacred river. The women and men dress in white garments and go into the water together. They change their clothes on the shore. The garments they wear in the water are usually shrouds, which they have brought from home with them for this purpose, and which they intend to take back to be used at their burials.
The scenes of these baptisms make one think of a picnic. The men, women, and children rush about, some laughing and screaming, and others quietly talking. The priests dip each three times in the Jordan, giving their blessing as they do so. After baptism some soak other shrouds in the river to consecrate them that they may carry them home to their friends. They also drink of the dirty water and bottle it up to take home. Some of the pilgrims are old and have to be lifted in and out of the river. The current is swift, and frequently men are drowned.
CHAPTER IX
ON THE SITE OF SOLOMON’S TEMPLE
I want to take you this morning to the summit of Mount Moriah and show you the site of Solomon’s Temple. It is on the same spot where Abraham, at the command of the Lord, was about to sacrifice his only son, Isaac, when he was told to desist and shown the ram with its horns caught in the thicket behind him. It is the place where the wisdom of the boy Christ astonished the wise men; where David, Solomon, and Elijah used to pray, and where, according to the Mohammedans, the blast of the trumpet will sound forth at the Day of Judgment. The spot is sacred to both Christians and Moslems. Indeed, it may be called the holiest on the face of the globe.