Part Five  12.15.10

This was the day I went to the Western Wall for the first time.  But first we had a tour of Jerusalem’s Old City, including shops and the Christian Quarter.  We wandered around the beautiful Church of the Sepulchre, and entered what many believe is Jesus’ tomb.

There is a special quality surrounding religious holy sites, regardless of the religion.  Is it echoed off the spirituality of the religious visitors?  Does spirituality surround and sink into the walls of places of prayer, after decades, or hundreds or thousands of years?  You know how you walk into certain churches, or synagogues – especially older ones – and you just feel it?  (I’ve never been in a mosque, Bhuddist or Hindu temple, so I can’t speak to those.  I wish I could)  Call it spirituality, call it holiness, that feeling was all over the Old City.  

Then we walked over to the Wall.  Some people had led me to expect a great emotional moment, being there.  Others admitted that it might be a little anti-climactic, that the swell of emotion wouldn’t necessarily happen.  Here is what did happen: I thought it was pretty cool – because it’s ancient, because it’s central to Jewish history.  Because Jews have come there to pray for millenia.  But it’s a place.  We don’t worship places, right?    I’m glad I got to put my hand on the Wall, and recite the Sh’ma.  But I had to sort of shove my way in to do so.  I was sorry I’d not thought to scribble a prayer to stick into a crevice – I thought of several once I was there, sigh.  And I was distracted by the amazing people watching.  And there you are, in front of this amazing, ancient site, and what do you see before you?  Plastic lawn chairs.  Welcome to Israel!  

The biggest distraction was one I’d girded myself for, but it still really annoyed me.   In order to get anywhere near the Wall, let alone touch it and/or say a prayer… I had to place myself in the Women’s Section.  Smaller, and at the time I was there, in the shade, while the men were still praying in sunshine.  Sigh… The separation, the inequality of men and women in my religion is a big problem for me.  And even though I will only participate in a synagogue that is fully egalitarian, the inequality perpetuated by those more religious than myself is awful to me.  That the inequality is perpetuated by those who choose not to practice Judaism in a manner that allows for societal progress and modernity; who justify that by reading the Torah without refreshing interpretation,  is anathema to me.  (which brings me back to that internal disconnect again, sigh…)

After experiencing the Wall, we were led through the Rabinnic Tunnels – these are  under the Temple Mount.  They were fascinating – layer upon layer of different societies, different eras.  Streets, rooms, cisterns, winding pipes large enough to squeeze through.  Sort of like walking through your Ancient Civ textbook.  

Lunch, back on the bus, onto the highway – saw the other (in)famous wall – and through a check point.  Our guide (who was fabulously informative and entertaining – and not too shy about her opinions, which was also informative and entertaining!) made sure to tell us we were on the other side of the Green Line.  Destination: Gush Etzion.  This area is a group of Jewish villages, south of Jerusalem, has been repeatedly inhabited by Jews since the 19th century. There was a multi-sensory presentation honoring the previous settlements of Gush Etzion and their defenders during the War of Independence in 1948.  This was followed by a short discussion led by Rabbi Ari Berman.  Rabbi Berman left a tremendously successful life as one of the top rabbis in New York City, to make aliyah, to come and live in the (post 1967 War) Etzion Bloc.    

The area is also known for the vineyards.  We stopped at the small, boutiquey Gush Etzion Winery.  Comparing the biblical art of winemaking, and modern winemaking, as brought back to the area decades ago by the Rothschilds. Wine tasting, wine purchasing… It was the perfect late afternoon activity, and another thing to learn about this historied area.   

We ended our busy day with an evening screening of two short films  created at the Ma’aleh Film Scool,  back in Jerusalem.  

12.16.10
Massada was next on our itinerary. After a crazy-early breakfast, we headed south through the Judean desert, towards the Dead Sea to Massada.  Seeing the Jordanian border on the opposite side of the Dead Sea was a reminder of how closely these countries are bound together, and why everyone has to, at some point, play nicely together. 

After a very quick stop at an Ahava (Dead Sea mud and sea salt skin care) outlet, there we were. To climb or not to climb, that was the question.  Our tour guide begged us not to – she had to keep us on a tight schedule.  A few people climbed,  I wanted to but wimped out because I did not want to be the person holding up the whole group at the end of the visit.  Plus, I’d have missed her guided tour on top, which we reached via cable car, which was fun and had a great view.   Not far from where we stepped off the cable car, was an old rounded doorway, at the top of the steps of the snake path, where the climbers walked through to join us.  For the sake of a good story, of course I took a picture, in that doorway, looking tired but victorious .  

Again, more ancient history, lots of cool rocks, and a deep blue sky.  Just kidding about the rocks, sort of.  We saw a lot of historical rocks in Israel.  And I took way too many pictures of the rosy-toned rocks against the bright blue sky.  The structures around and including King Herod’s castle (his vacation condo?  He may have never been there, and I doubt it was a time share) showed the height the ruins had been excavated at, and above a blue line showed the estimated heights of walls and structures.  

Discussion about the idea of Massada in the minds of the Jewish people.  For ages, Massada represented a heroic myth of rebel Jewish soldiers’ self sacrificing last stand protecting the ancient Jewish nation, and their religion to the Romans .  Today, that idea has begun to ebb out of Israeli’s minds.  With no actual recorded historical evidence, the story relies heavily upon the unreliable and arguably biased writings of the Roman toady, Josephus.  The story doesn’t appear in religious Jewish writings.  (Perhaps because the story is one of no way out, a death myth?  And Judaism is life affirming?)  Today, the story has been revisted to emphasize the resistance part of the story, and downplay the self-sacrificing suicide part of the story.  Massada remains one of the world’s most popular tourist sites.   

In a bit of geographical back-pedaling, we headed to Beersheva.  This sparsely populated area lies on the periphery of Israel, (the Galilee, the Negev).  We met up with young men and women of the Ayalim Project in Beersheva.  There they work with at-risk communities, particularly children.  They showed us garbage filled, dilapidated buildings they’d cleaned up, restored and converted into attractive, livable space.   They reminded me a little of one of those HGTV programs about "flipping" rundown buildings.  Actually, and more seriously, they reminded me a little of Americorps.  After an amazing  home cooked meal that couldn’t be topped by any Israeli caterer, we engaged in a wonderful conversation about their organization and it’s goals.  What is the meaning of volunteerism?  (particularly interesting to a group of community leaders).  What is community, and what does it mean to develop and re-establish communities in the Negev?  In the context of tzedakah and tikkun olam, these kids are tangibly living their idealist principles by working to revitalize this part of Israel.  

We ended our day at a Community Center in Beersheva, where they are trying to hang on to the youth of the area, making it a desirable place to live now, and set down roots later, after school and army.

There was so much to take in and absorb.  The time for refection took place on the bus, between stops, or at the sleepy end of the day.  But these experiences demand thoughtful, careful consideration.  I was amazed at how much could be squeezed into two days, and how the experiences of the trip so far seemed to build upon one another.  

Photos: DSK