On this site, you have the Western Wall, the holiest place for our Jewish brothers and sisters; the Haram Al Sharif – Muslims consider the entire Temple Mount platform to be the forecourt of the Al Aqsa Mosque which commemorates Mohammed’s miraculous Night Journey (where he meets Allah) and in the same location, Herod’s Royal Stoa. For us Christians, we know that Jesus came here regularly. He taught here, He turned over money tables, He prayed in these very spaces. And whenever you looked out, whenever you could see over the walls in a certain direction, you could see the Mount of Olives, where Jesus went three times only days before his crucifixion and death. So here, the foundation of the world sits, venerated as holiest of holies by Jews, Muslims, and Christians – all of our stories coalescing.
Whose line is it anyway? Where does our story stop and the others pick up? Or are there any stops and starts. As we entered, we walked up a long bridge of sorts that was fixed far above the wall – it took us over the Western Wall into the Temple Mount. As I walked this ”hanging bridge”, I looked down. It was beautiful to witness Jewish prayer; the area is divided at the wall, a long and high partition between the sections of Jewish men and women who pray separately as their tradition teaches (the Western Wall is often referred to as ”The Wailing Wall” – there is a story for this name and perhaps I will share it another time). As I entered the Temple Mount, I witnessed Muslims praying, but not in large groups like those at the wall – instead, just now and then, you would see a man prostrate and praying. The Christians around me – those in my group – like me, were holding postures of reverence as Christians and Jews are not allowed to pray on the Temple Mount. Here were three world religions, all sharing space in this holy place, each claiming it as holy, each praying in their own ways. It was an awesome, profound experience – you felt welcome and unwelcome all at the same time – very confusing to all one’s senses and rationalities. I do want to take time to share with you what it felt like to enter the Jewish woman’s area at the Western Wall and place my prayers into the wall, but that deserves its own post so that will have to be another time.
Rabbi Brad and Rev. Brian eventually led us to a much quieter place outside the main walls; the Southern most steps. Someone had asked Rev. Brian where he thought Jesus entered the Temple Mount – here he answered that question. It was not a very touristy area. Our group sat down on the steps to listen to more amazing stories from our teachers. One story that stood out to me was about the steps – that they were intentionally all shapes and sizes as you ascended the steps. In fact, if you didn’t walk carefully, you were likely to trip and fall. They told us that this was to force the people to pay attention as they ascend the Temple Mount, preparing their hearts and minds for a ”journey” as there were many protocols one needed to have in place before entering – purity laws, sacrifices purchased (a pigeon if you were not so wealthy, a lamb if you were), and such. I liked the idea that a physical space was created in such a way to remind people to pay attention – I had a moment of holy envy where I wish we could make steps like this at all our churches so people would intentionally, mindfully enter each time – or something like it that was accessible to all people to help prepare minds and hearts for Sunday worship. After the stories, they gave us time to reflect in our journals. I will share what I wrote, but please keep in mind that it’s a journal entry – stream of consciousness writing:
Rabbi Brad asked ”what do the stones say to you?”
Time is irrelevant. It does not hold us, only our fears and failures because in the end we all fail – but the spirit, the soul, God’s love poured into us is what lives on – beyond time, beyond constraints that tether our fate and our skin, our hate and our human position in this mess of things – “the first last and the last first” – Today, at the wall, I did push in to get a chance to touch ”holy” but then through these new eyes, ”holy” is, can be, must be everywhere because humanity is everywhere. My heart is breaking for Ukraine, for Jewish peoples, for Palestinians, for Russians, for my LGBTQIA+ neighbors and friends, the list goes on and so what does the wall or the stones say to me today? Today, as I sit here on these ruins next to the Temple Mount – where Jews-Christians-Muslims are gathered to pray, to celebrate, to revere, to wail – but not to wage war, to just be present in their faithful journey – whatever that looks like to/for them – the wall says, the stones say, the dirt screams, the whole valley shouts ”God is bigger than all of it and all of us and can hold. it. all.”
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