In a shocking and painful scene, the occupation authorities in Jerusalem prevented the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, and the Custos of the Holy Land, Father Francesco Ielpo, from entering the Church of the Holy Sepulcher to celebrate the Palm Sunday liturgy. Today the Catholic Church observes the Feast of the Palms to mark the start of the Holy Week.

What a terrible sight: a Patriarch goes to pray in the beginning of the holiest week of Christianity, only to find the doors of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher closed before him and be asked to return to his patriarchate. It is a scene that pains the heart and raises deep questions about what the situation in the Holy City has become.

It is painful that matters have reached this point, where the Church of the Holy Sepulcher — where Palm Sunday rites have not been interrupted for many centuries, perhaps since its construction — is deprived of this sacred celebration in such a tragic manner. These are the consequences of war, violence, occupation, and the absence of stability that marks this wounded region. How ironic that on a day when the faithful lift and wave branches of olives as symbols of peace on Palm Sunday, the Patriarch and the Custos of the Holy Land are prevented from entering the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.

What happened today cannot be separated from a broader scene: Muslims were prevented from reaching Al-Aqsa Mosque at Eid al-Fitr, and today, the Patriarch of Jerusalem was prevented from reaching the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. What kind of time is this in which freedom of worship is violated in such a manner? What arrogance disregards religious rites and the historical "Status Quo" agreed upon for centuries?

The joint statement by the Latin Patriarchate and the Custody of the Holy Land was clear in its description, naming things as they are and calling what happened an inappropriate and reckless act.

Despite all claims of a comfortable reality for Jerusalem’s and Palestine’s Christians, the painful truth confirms that they endure the same suffering as their Muslim brothers, in a land that bleeds pain and awaits a healing that has not yet come.

It is a land yearning for joy: the joy of healing, the joy of freedom, the joy of independence, the joy of holding religious rites naturally and safely. But that joy is still absent, and one might say… postponed.

Nevertheless, the Church remains a witness to hope, a witness to the Resurrection of the Lord who passed through the way of the Cross. Just as Christ bore his cross, believers today carry their heavy cross, awaiting the dawn of the Resurrection Christians believe firmly that freedom and peace will come, however long the night endures.

We conclude with what Ahmed Shawqi said to General Allenby as he was about to enter Jerusalem:

"O opener of Jerusalem, lay the sword aside;

The cross was not iron but wood.

If you look at where its hand reached

And how it surpassed the poles in its dominion,

You will know that behind weakness there is strength,

And that right, not force, ultimately prevails."