Ladders don’t usually show up in the popular imagination as symbols. A ladder is just a ladder … except when it is something more.
In the Book of Genesis, we’re told about Jacob’s dream in which he saw a ladder extending from the earth to heaven. He saw angels ascending and descending. That vision has, for many theologians, signified God’s active engagement in the affairs of men. It symbolizes the reality that only God can bridge the gap between the Holy Creator and the fallen creation.
For Jacob, that ladder reaffirmed the promises God had made to Abraham and Isaac.
A different kind of ladder, though one also steeped in symbolism, has been on display in the
Christian Quarter of the Old City of Jerusalem for over two centuries. The five-rung ladder is impossible to miss as you enter the paved courtyard outside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
Once inside, the church’s ancient, elaborate decor will take your breath away. Nearly two millennia of incense hangs in the air. Sunlight streams through ancient stained glass. It all conspires to make that simple wooden ladder, which you’ll have seen just before entering, such a stark contrast. There is nothing special about it; it could have come from your grandfather’s storage shed.
The ladder is propped incongruously against the building’s facade on a closed balcony over the main door. It has been there for a long time. The reason is reflected in the precarious
balance that governs the church’s operations and the long-standing divisions within the faith.
The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is built on what is believed to be the site where Jesus was crucified and buried before his resurrection. Under a decree set in the mid-18th century, six Christian denominations oversee the church: Roman Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Armenian Apostolic, Coptic Orthodox, Syriac Orthodox, and Ethiopian Orthodox.
That agreement stipulates that nothing about the church can change and no objects can be moved without the explicit consent of all six denominations. This is meant to quell disputes at this most sacred of sites.
Yes, even that cedar-wood ladder is included.
No one is quite sure why the ladder was left there in the first place, although it was certainly there in 1728, when negotiations for the Status Quo agreement began. It was there when the agreement was finalized in 1757 and reaffirmed in the mid-1800s. And it is there right now.
I enjoy visiting the Church of the Holy Sepulchre when I’m in Jerusalem, in large part because I appreciate the spiritual weight of nearly two thousand years of Christian pilgrims. Of course, that long line of pilgrims consists of individuals—each of us having brought our peculiar thoughts and heresies and fears and sins and joys. We bring them to this church that may (or may not, but likely is) be where Jesus was crucified, buried, and then raised.
If there is any place we should set aside our
differing understandings of theology, it should be at the foot of the cross.
The ladder is a reminder that even in our serious—and not-so-serious—disagreements, God gives us the ability to find unity in Christ. Our great hope is that one day, in glory, we won’t need silly agreements covering ladders to worship God in spirit and in truth.