Is this the moment that turns me to religion?

Inside it had the presence of faith that no other Christian site has ever had. Surrounded by the visions of people preying and sounds echoing throughout. I was in Jerusalem for just a few hours but it was at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre that I finally felt I hit Jerusalem.

I arrived in Old Jerusalem after a ridiculous midday summers walk from the central bus station to my hostel (Citadel Hostel - mentioned in a later blog). At reception I hear, “Oi Mate!” It was Chris an Aussie guy who I spoke to on an overnight bus in Turkey for a few hours. He said he was going on this free walking tour. The walking tour walks you through the 4 quarters of the old city.

Starting in the small Armenian quarter, it walks past where the Syrian Orthodox Church think Jesus had his last supper. The Jewish quarter is next which seems strategically placed for a snack break. Just prior men try and put a red ribbon around your wrist and later there is a donation box on the way to the Western Wall.

Now I always thought it was the Whaling Wall so since when has that changed? Or is it just here? Security check is like you are going on a plane ride and once cleared, moments later a white marbled wall is in front of you. Some green weeds are growing out and scrap pieces of paper scrunched into the wall act as putty. To enter the walled area you have to have a cardboard cut out of a scull cap. This is placed on the back end of your head. On a windy day it’s hard for it to keep aboard.

There are two sections to the wall. ¾ on the left is dedicated to males and ¼ to the females (Muslim is the same ratio for their shrines) The women’s side is packed whilst the men’s has many public speaking stands for men to read the bible and white plastic chairs for them to sit on. Suited up orthodox men in tux style, top hat (I was told to shorten it to penguins) either walk back and forth beside the 3/4 wall or lightly head butt it repeatedly.
On this day I didn’t feel right to leave a note but a few days later when my friend Shy Lee came down from Tel Aviv I felt obligated to. And well I think those at home who know me, you know what I wished for. The rule is that once you prey you don’t put your back to the wall. I heard the Pope stuffed that up weeks before.

The Muslim quarter is breezed through (mainly because the main sites are time restricted, mentioned in a later blog) and into the Christian quarter where Jesus fell over for the first time (Station 3.) Station 5 is a right turn where he recovered from a potential fall and that guy who helped him with the cross the rest of the way? Well he took over from here. At this station Jesus saved his fall from the left wall, which is still preserved. This means you can put your hand where billions of other hands over the centuries have been before! Yay! (I did it)

Up until station 5 it was a pretty easy run for Jesus, despite the falling over and the whipping and the thorned up hat, it was all down hill. (I don’t know what all the fuss was about?) But than its all up hill from there. Through narrow streets and through an Ethiopian Church, passing religious tour groups of pilgrims and out to the front of the Sepulchre. Here is where I left the tour with some others.

I didn’t know what I was looking at but the amount of people exceeded anything else I saw in Jerusalem. It was dark inside and the echoes of the preys from various parts just made this place special. One good thing except the red ribbon was that of all the religious sites in Jerusalem it was not about the money. You are here to view your faith and other faiths. No scams, just be here with your presence that is all that’s needed. Benny Hinn must feel uncomfortable here. (Although I am looking from the outside with that observation.)

The Sepulchre was no different. Upstairs, downstairs I was looking at things I didn’t know. I get to the entrance again with Chris and some others and watch people kneel down to touch a brown-cream stone the length of a coffin. Watching this it got the best of us so we asked, “What the hell is this all about?” “This is where Jesus was laid out before he was buried” “Oooooohhhhh”

So Chris went over and put his hand on the stone. Soon followed something that hit home hard. Two women conservatively dressed walk over discreetly with a dark blue pram. They pick the contents of what was inside and it is no baby. Instead it’s a young child crippled with no muscle mass and limbs all over the place. They lay him down on the marble stone, prey silently, a slight tear, pick him up. Place him in the pram, a slight sound of grief and walk out. It was an effecting moment that put my tear ducts on alert. A lump in my throat, I was compelled to go over to the stone.

From that 30-second moment I had my first truly spiritual moment towards my religion. The sound of prey moved to ancient Greek as I leant down. It was Greek Orthodox’s turn for preys. It was at this moment I saw the power of religion. And how ironic that the religion that I have been christened in, the religious language I have never understood and my excuse for not taking any interest in religion was there for that moment. As I leant down I thought of a few things that concerned me and in between those thoughts I thought of the two ladies and the child in the blue pram.

After that I didn’t want to spoil things and just stood there watching and listening to the priests and moved out. Knowing that if ever I were to become religious this would be the moment… That night I went out and had a few beers with the crew from the hostel… Still I will treasure that brief flirt with spiritual religion.

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