Stone and Relic

Jerusalem: filled with relics of old, stone walls and ancient stories in which monotheistic faith has been derived. As the great walls stand tall and the holy places are revered by those who live here; so the tourists flock as if tomorrow is the end and their pilgrimage here is the will be adorned in the afterlife.

After I walked through the loosely monitored security gate of the Western Wall yesterday, I saw exactly this: hundreds of people, at any given time moving as one embodiment to and from the Wall with prayers on their lips and awe in their eyes.

Did it feel spiritual?

No, not to me, as callous as this may sound; There was no tingling in my fingertips, no emotional response my from my eyes. When I saw it, I saw a wall, connected to rest of Old City, a wall with grasses growing out of it and people desperate to touch. I saw a men’s side and a women’s side separated by dividers. I saw tourists taking pictures from the walkway above and I saw security guards everywhere.  I don’t mean to sound irreverent. But what people make the wall to be – I just didn’t see.

The Western Wall, to me, was just that, a wall. A man made alter no different than a church or a synagogue. It was a site for praying tourists and priests and orthodox believers. I just didn’t feel anything as others might. It was a wall. And perhaps the political discord surrounding its existence has taken away from any ‘holy’ feeling I am supposed to have; nevertheless, it was interesting site and nothing more.

Though the Western Wall did not impress me, I DID find the Tower of David Museum (another wall) to be most fascinating.

Perhaps it is because of history.

Once upon a time, a King walked these walls, troubled by how he might lead a nation, raw with every move he made, even in his faltering. This truly captures my attention.

King David was a man who ran with rebels, prayed for his enemies and not just for his sake, but also for theirs. After serving a King who wanted him dead, he took care of the King’s family. He was humiliated, he tried to have a woman’s husband killed, his own heir despised him. David was human and carried the weight of a restless people on his shoulders. Walking along the walls – which are believed to have been his castle, what did he see? What did he pray? What did he know?

The view was remarkable and extends along the edge of Old City. The view and the place I stood birthed more reverence. True, the Museum (the walls) has been rebuilt, torn down and rebuilt over and again. But to know a King wept and rejoiced along the same path. To know a great example of humanity and spirit was ever more inspiring.

I wonder, as the thousands come to the Old City this week to admire the old relics, does history provide renewal as much as the knowledge & wisdom of here…and now?