Shalom from Jerusalem!
I’m writing this on Tisha B’Av –the ninth of the Hebrew month of Av—the date on which we commemorate the destruction of our two Temples, in 586 BCE by the Babylonians and in 70 CE by the Romans, as well as the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492 CE. Because last night was Shabbat, I didn’t create a new post. This post represents two days’ activity in Jerusalem.
Yesterday, Friday, we got up early and did our Shacharit (morning) service at the Kotel, the Western Wall of the Temple mount in Roman times. We weren’t at the section that you see most often because it’s run by Orthodox authorities who wouldn’t tolerate a mixed male-female minyan. Instead, we prayed at in area known as Robinson’s arch, after the discoverer of an ancient staircase which carried pedestrians down to the main street of Jerusalem in the days of King Herod. Part of the arch is still attached to the wall. Here we are praying on that former main street, facing the Western Wall:
The reason that the Western Wall is considered the holiest is because it is nearest the location of the “Holy of Holies” in the ancient Temple, where we believe that the Ark of the Covenant was located. It is actually one of four retaining walls that were built by King Herod to support the Temple mount, also called Mount Moriah, the place where tradition says that the Akedah, the binding of Isaac, described in Genesis 22, took place. The “Old City” of Jerusalem is on nearby Mount Zion and the Central Valley, which separates the two mountains, was the main street of King Herod’s Jerusalem. We prayed standing on the original paving stones.
Near Robinson’s arch, we saw the top stone from the southwest corner of the wall. It bears a Hebrew inscription indicating that this is where ancient Levites stood to blow trumpets announcing the beginning of Shabbat and major holidays.
Our next stop was the recently discovered City of David, which is located outside the walls of the Temple mount. Before we could go there, we had to go back to our bus to put away our talisim (prayer shawls) and tefilin (phylacteries—small leather boxes containing Biblical texts, which we strap on for morning prayers). While we were on the bus, which was parked on a hillside, the parking brake gave way and four cars parked behind us were damaged.
The City of David is located in East Jerusalem, which was Jordanian territory until 1967. Archeologists believe that it was the location of King David’s palace and have evidence to support this. One of my previous posts discusses the discovery of the seals of two of King Zedekiah’s ministers, both mentioned in the book of Jeremiah, at this site. Here is our guide, Dr. Peter Abelow standing in front of one of the presumed palace walls and a pillar, which supported the roof of a private home outside the palace walls. He’s speaking from what may be the location of the rooftop on which Bathsheba was seen, by King David, arousing desires which led to his greatest sins, as described in 2 Samuel 11.
From the City of David, we descended into King Hezekiah’s water tunnel. Ancient Jerusalem’s only source of water was in the Kidron Valley, on the east side of the city and outside its walls. We believe that King David captured the city from the Jebusites by penetrating the tunnel which carried water up into the city and taking the defenders by surprise. When the Northern Kingdom of Israel fell to the Assyrians, during King Hezekiah’s time, an influx of refugees caused the city to expand. A new water conduit, protected from access by future enemies, was needed. King Hezekiah had a deeper tunnel built, running nearly a mile under the city, to the Pool of Siloam, an ancient reservoir. We walked through the tunnel, where water still flows. The water source and the tunnel are also in East Jerusalem. Here’s a photo of the water source and a replica of an ancient inscription, which described how the tunnel was dug from both ends.
Here’s my seminary colleague, Enid Lader, spiritual leader of a synagogue in Wooster, OH, coming out of the tunnel where it empties out into the Pool of Siloam.
Next we explored the “Old City” of Jerusalem. Here’s where we entered, at the Zion Gate. Also shown are a replica of an ancient Byzantine map of the city and a portion of the Cardo, the main street from the Byzantine era (roughly 350 to 650 CE). The Temple mount is notably absent from the Byzantine map!
After shopping in the underground Jewish mall and the Arab market attached to the Cardo, we went back to our hotel and prepared for Shabbat. We attended Friday evening services at Kehilat Yedid, a modern Orthodox congregation in the Beka section of Jerusalem, where there are a lot of Americans who made aliyah and are now Israeli citizens. Several families invited us to their homes for dinner after services and some lively discussions ensued. Among the things we learned is that some Orthodox Jews in Israel see little difference between Reform and Conservative Judaism in the US. Also, some of them expected us, as liberal clergy, to be less knowledgeable than Orthodox clergy and were surprised to find that was not the case. We explained that while our practices are different, we’re expected to be fully versed in traditional texts—both teachings and legal codes.
On Shabbat morning, we attended services at Shira Hadasha (New Song) a modern Orthodox congregation associated with the Hartman Institute, a graduate school for Jewish clergy and educators. Shira Hadasha is almost egalitarian. Women lead the Torah service, chant Torah and prophetic readings and receive aliyot (opportunities to recite the blessings before and after the Torah readings). Both Shira Hadasha and Kehilat Yedid were pretty fully attended in mid-August. We were impressed with the spirited singing of prayers at both congregations. (Of course, I didn’t take any photos in either place because it was Shabbat.)
After lunch, I went to a nearby park to sit outdoors and finish some reading for my Gratz College course on modern Israel. Our hotel is located in the Abu Tor section, only a few blocks from the pre-1967 border between Israel and Jordan, so there are both Arab and Jewish populations nearby. My trip to the park showed me two sides of the current political issues. In one area, I saw a large Arab group and a large Jewish group picnicking only about 10 yards from each other. Children from both groups played at the same time in the large fountain nearby and didn’t bother each other. Many people strolled through the park: Israeli Jews, Israeli Arabs and tourists – all simply going about their business. This gave me a faint glimmer of optimism about possible future relations. (I didn't take photos because I didn't want to disturb the scene.)
While I was studying, an elderly Jewish gentleman came by and I struck up a conversation with him. He came to British Palestine, from Germany in 1933, with his parents, grew up in Haifa and fought in Israel’s 1948 War of Independence. He told me that we American Jews had done the State of Israel a disservice by not moving there in large numbers. If we had, he said, the Palestinian Arabs could have been pushed out of more of the original British mandate territory and, in his opinion, Israel wouldn’t have the problems it faces today in its occupation of the West Bank. Clearly his views represent the other side of the issue, and he's not alone in this.
I returned to the hotel and told the group about my experience at our pre-dinner, mid-trip discussion. After dinner we went to the Tayelet, also called the Haas Promenade, which overlooks the Old City and the Temple mount. We joined a large crowd from an Israeli Masorti (Conservative) synagogue for the chanting of Aicha, the book of Lamentations, marking the start of Tisha B’Av. Here is Rabbi Barry Schelsinger, an American who moved to Israel some years ago, leading some of his congregants in prayers after the Aicha reading.
Tomorrow we’ll be visiting Yad Vashem, Israel’s Holocaust memorial, and then meeting with an Ethiopian Jewish family, on our way to the desert town of Arad, where we’ll stay overnight. On Monday morning we’ll climb up to the ancient fortress at Masada.