Jerusalem of the Ages

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My first days in Jerusalem were a whirl of activity, walking and wonder. I usually take it easy on my first day, but this was Jerusalem! I had to get out and see it all. So even though I had just arrived that morning, after a short deep nap and an energy bar I headed towards the Old City. I walked through East Jerusalem, which was not as foreboding as I was lead to believe, to the Damascus Gate. One of the seven portals into the Old City.

Inside I was hit with Jerusalem. The cold, the damp, the scents a combination of falafel and incense, the different exotic styles of dress, the religious megamonuments had me living in a dream. The spot where Christ was crucified was down this street. The Western Wall and the Temple Mount was this way. Religion and deep history was immediately everywhere.

I wanted to save the meaningful Christian sites of my pilgrimage to the second day when I would hopefully have had more rest. So, I headed down the cobbled path towards the Western Wall. I had been told that the tunnel tour under the Wall was a must see by my pastor. After passing through a metal detector I purchased a ticket for the tour and stepped out to the plaza and got my first glimpse of the Wall.

The area was not crowded and intense like a thought it was going to be. Instead it was a wide-open plaza with ample space to roam around. A group of young Israeli soldiers were posing for group photos nearby. I walked up to the wall and put my hand on it saying a quick prayer, but did not linger long. I didn’t feel it was my place. To either side of me were men fervently praying, either with their nose to the wall or bowing and bobbing their heads in front of it. I retreated to an area of the plaza where I could lean up against a railing with an unobstructed view of the wall. I contemplated how the Jews had been thrown out of Israel by the Romans, wandered around the world homeless for so long, and had fought so hard to get back. And now here they were praying at what was left of their mighty temple.

After that I joined up with the tunnel tour that lead under the temple mount complex. I was handed a little white yarmulke. You needed to wear one at each Jewish holy site. The tour was amazing and really gave a sense of the history of Jerusalem and the Temple Mount. The foundation stones were massive in every sense of the word. It was amazing to think that these stones that had been carved out and placed here thousands of years ago had not been moved since. Our guide expressed his displeasure that Israel had relinquished control of the Temple Mount over to the Muslims. At the end of the tour he sang a very moving Hebrew prayer song with everyone clapping along.

When we came back out into the light I tried to give back my yarmulke, but apparently it was mine to keep as the guide did not want it back. I walked back through the Old City stopping at the Via Delarosa to locate the pilgrim house where I would be moving to the following day.

Back at the hotel I crashed once again. Only getting up to go to dinner at an East Jerusalem cafe. A steaming hot portion of Spaghetti Bolognese and a hot chocolate to warm me against the cold Jerusalem night.

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