Wikipedia defines "Coenaculum" as an "eating room of a Roman house in which the supper (coena) or latest meal is taken. It was sometimes located on an upper story, and reached by an external staircase."
As happens all throughout the Holy Land where the locus of three major monotheistic religions gingerly resides, the Coenaculum is neatly located above the revered site of the Tomb of King David. In fact, a visit to the Coenaculum on Mt. Zion which is right outside the Old Walled City of Jerusalum, means that you will find yourself climbing an external staircase to reach the entrance to this second floor. And I can guarantee you that once you're inside this rather large, empty room, you can't help but do a 360, looking all around the space and into every corner and crevice, conjuring up the imagery of a long wooden table with a dozen men seated (women in the background serving, of course), where what was to begin as a convivial Passover meal ended up being the Last Supper.
This storied structure is still intact today although it's been passed through several hands including those of the Crusaders; at one point in the 1500s, the Ottomans converted it into a mosque which is why one can see Arabic writing on some of the walls (and, note the mihrab, center left of the photos - a mihrab is the prayer niche in every mosque which is always built in the direction of Mecca). To the left of the entrance into this main room, not pictured, is a bronze statue of an olive tree which Pope John Paul II bequeathed in commemoration of his visit to the Holy Land in 2000.
Whether you visit the site alone or in a group accompanied by a guide, you are only allowed entrance to this main room. HOWEVER - there's an interesting theory that the actual room where Jesus broke bread is not this large room - it's a smaller room off to the side. Reasons behind this theory are debatable like everything else in the Holy Land, and some accept this location as a close to (or) actual site of the Last Supper, and others do not. To be fair, every biblical location in the Holy Land is associated with controversy or debate - and in this respect, the Coenaculum is no different.
I definitely hoped to see this smaller room. The hair on my arms stood up at the mere idea, and I could feel how close I was to something just outside my reach.
So, on my last trip to Israel, I found myself once again climbing those exterior stairs up to the second floor of the Coenaculum where I walked into the main room as is the norm. This time, I noticed three metal doors leading out of the main room, and I considered each one carefully as I stood in the middle of that space visualizing which door might lead to the real room or area where the Last Supper was purported to have taken place. I must have spent at least ten minutes walking from door to door, trying and re-trying each one, but I was out of luck. They were all locked.
I walked over to the young Israeli guarding the entrance to this main room. He was sitting behind a table looking bored, gun lying casually on the desk but within close reach. I could see he was engrossed in drawing something with pencil on paper. When I got closer, I laughed to see that the drawings were images of a gun, over and over again. He was basically doodling - but the subject of his "artwork" was so incongruous with the place itself, it made me lift an eyebrow and, yes - maybe chuckle a little irreverently.
I asked the young man if he could please unlock the doors to those three other rooms. He replied that he didn't have the keys to those doors - but he understood what I was after. He knew that I wanted to see the alleged real room of the Last Supper! He was familiar with the theory that the Last Supper didn't take place in the popular main hall but rather, it transpired in one of the smaller rooms - and he agreed that the idea seemed plausible. But then he also offered his own opinion that the rooms in question - any of the three - might all be too small an area to have housed upwards of fifteen people - though he admitted that he had never actually seen the rooms, himself.
It was a tantalizing theory, and I was reluctant to leave without having at least gotten a glimpse into those other three rooms, as though by merely looking into them I might be able to miraculously discern whether or not a group of Galileans actually broke bread in there during the Last Supper.
Seeing how I was unable to hide my disappointment over not being able to investigate the three smaller rooms, the young security guard shook his head, ending our conversation and my musings in the most matter-of-fact way, "I'm sorry I can't help you.
But you know what? Seems that if this main room is good enough for the Pope, then it should be good enough for you!"
And just like that, my young guard picked up his pencil and resumed his doodling, unfazed by such esoteric debate. Not a bad reminder that faith after all, is predicated on belief. It is in every respect, "...the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things unseen." (Hebrews 11:1)
