Jerusalem (Does Not Feel Like) My Happy Home

It's only my third post, and I'm already tired!

Is it too soon for me to just show some photos? (I hope not!)

First of all, breakfast is delicious in Bethlehem. Grapefruit and eggs (the yolks are orange) and cucumbers and feta and coffee and pita... it was so delicious that I neglected to take any photos. That is proof that it was just that good.

We began our day with a short drive from Bethlehem to Jerusalem, which meant that we had to cross the border from the West Bank through the military checkpoint. This occurred without incident. Rami told us that the guards must be in a good mood. The chances of being searched or questioned at the checkpoints is largely dependent on the mood of the soldiers. Below is a photo of the wall on the border. It's the txhe big white one, not the pretty stone wall.

(And just today, we hear news that the American president is moving forward with plans to build a wall on our border with Mexico, so there's that.)

Our first stop of the day was the Church of the Pater Noster, the traditional site where Jesus taught his followers how to pray. There's a lovely chapel and surrounding gardens tended by a community of Carmelite nuns. Martin shared with us that when he was serving a congregation here and teaching confirmation, he took his students to Pater Noster to study the Lord's Prayer. How cool is that?

Everywhere we look, there is eveidence of violence, destruction, and "line-drawing" or security measures (that's probably a better way of stating it). Lots and lots of barbed wire, pokey things preventing people from climbing poles and fences, broken glass implanted into the tops of concrete walls... Jerusalem and the area surrounding us has always, it seems, been in a state of unrest. Several times our tour guide reminded us that the city of Jerusalem has been destroyed and rebuilt 18 times. I want to say I can't even imagine it, but the evidence of this history is all around me. The most beautiful and sacred sites of the Abrahamic faiths are guarded, walled off, and wrapped in garland meant to cause harm to those who intrude. 

I've spent more time experiencing than processing, to be sure, but I have to say that the security measures, while unsettling at first, do not make me feel that I am in danger. In fact, I felt safer traveling through the destruction and poverty of this crowded and diverse city than I have, at times, felt moving around Harrisburg, Lancaster, and York. Of course, I'm traveling in a large group and we get on and off a big bus frequently, but we have seen virtually no violence. Even so, we are grateful 

for those who are praying for our safety.

We spent a significant amount of time sitting in the courtyard of Dominus Flevit (the place where Jesus wept over the city of Jerusalem. From our vantage point,we could look out across the Kidron Valley to the Old City of Jerusalem - the site of the temple, Dome of the Rock, and El Aksa mosque. We listened to Rami as he recounted the story of Jesus' last supper, his betrayal, the interrogation, the scourging, and the crucifixion. It is a story familiar to all of us, but Rami told it in such a way that nearly everyone had a new perspective, if but a small one. To be told, " that is the spot where we think the last supper would have taken place and this is why..." or "this is the path that we think must have been walked, and this is the condition of a body after being lashed 39 times" was even more sobering when put into context. I doubt that anyone in our group previously thought that crucifixion was a gentle death, but Rami's matter-of-fact delivery of the humiliation and dehumanization that was intended by this all-too-common kind of execution was incredibly moving for us.

This photo above shouts the Temple Mount and the Dome of the Rock, familiar to many, but I hadn't realized (or remembered) that both sides of the Kidron Valley (between the Mount of Olives and the Old City) are covered with cemeteries, the Hebrew cemetery on the Mount of Olives side and the Muslim cemetery on the Temple Mount side.

The tree below has a name....I don't remember it...(Chester? Stanley?) but the crown of thorns was probably made from branches like this.

The photo below is from the interior of Dominus Flevit. The chapel was built in the 1920s, and I don't know for sure that they had tourists in mind, but it works out well. The window over the altar lines up perfectly with the Dome of the Rock. For all I know, it was commissioned by Eastman Kodak.

This mosaic is on the front of the altar. I love the maternal language Jesus uses: Jerusalem, Jerusalem, I have longed to gather your children together as a hen gathers her chicks. I bought my first souvenir here - a postcard of this mosaic. The lighting was not good for interior photos....but it was great for the money shot of the perfectly lined up window/dome.

From Dominus Flevit, we walked down the side on the Mount of Olives to the Garden of Gethsemane, dodging vendors and avoiding auto traffic on the very narrow road. The Garden has 8 olives trees that were not destroyed in one of the many destructions of the city. Rami told us that these trees are "witness trees," (olive trees live a VERY long time) and were likely growing in this spot when Jesus prayed to his father to "let this cup pass." I hope that the trees were keeping watch, because we all know the disciples were sleeping on the job!

Below is a mosaic from the chapel at Gethsemane. It was a beautiful space.

The windows are all these beautiful dark colors, giving the interior a sense of darkness and nighttime even on the brightest of days.

I loved the handles on the door to the chapel, with the handprint and the olive branch.

This is the exterior of the chapel - I took a photo because everyone else was taking a photo. I don't have much more to say about that.

Below are a couple of shots of the city as we drove to the Temple Mount. It looks like a city.

But, BEFORE we went to the Temple Mount, we ate! Plates of pita and accompaniments were waiting at our table as we entered the restaurant. (I'm pretty sure that I am not exaggerating a bit when I say that I've had hummus at every meal.) This first course  was delicious, and it was followed by a traditional meal that is called the upside-down meal. It's made of rice, eggplant, cauliflower, and carrot, all layered in a pot, cooked, and then, with great ceremony, it is flipped over onto a huge platter in front of the diners. I was about as far away from the "ceremony" as I possible could have been, so I missed that part, but it tasted good all the same. The rice dish was served with a side of chicken. I politely declined.

The meal was lovely, and we enjoyed visiting with our fellow pilgrims, but the big excitement was
that one of us (not me, surprisingly) got locked in the restroom. She's out now, and everyone is fine, but she was a bit rattled by the experience.

I mentioned above that Jerrusalem has been destroyed and rebuilt 18 times. Evidence of recent unrest is everywhere, as is evidenced by the people of Jerusalem finding ways to live despite the unrest. Bombed out buildings and piles of rubble are next to new construction and carefully reclaimed and tended gardens. It's obvious that people are constantly trying to help their city live. Below is a photo of how a clever artist is striving to "heal" the city.

Another Kodak Photo Spot - The Jaffa Gate. Pretty, no?

 Above is a photo from inside the temple wall, looking toward El Aksa mosque.

The Western Wall (women's side)

We finally made our way to the Western Wall, where Naomi coined the eloquent phrase, "Oh, cultures..." So many pilgrims, so many tourists, so many traditions, so many traditional dresses... the wedding photos, the school groups, the ancient people making one last visit....

There were so many "The More You Know" moments. Did you know that visiting the Western Wall has only "been a thing" since 1967? And did you know that the wall is NOT part of the old temple, but that it is a retaining wall? And did you know that it is thought to be the holiest place in the city because it is directly under where the Holy of Holies had been, and that means that Presence of God is still there?

Well, maybe you knew all of that, but it was news to me. I really should pay attention.

And don't call it the Wailing Wall. That's not a thing, so says Rami.

Our last stop of the day was Mount Zion, where we visited the cenacle (The Upper Room) and the Church of St Peter in Gallicantu. Rami was very candid with us that we were not going to even pretend that we were visiting the "actual" Upper Room, but gave us the reasoning behind why the room we visited was very near where the Upper Room had been. It was not my favorite stop; I was getting tired and my brain was getting full, so I don't have much to say about it, and I haven't any photos.



St. Peter in Gallicantu was a different story entirely.

This is the spot where (tradition tells us) Peter denied Jesus three times before the cock crowed, and where Jesus spent his last night before being sentenced to death. The chapel sits on the side of a hill, looking down into the Gehenna Valley - the Valley of Hell or the Valley of Fire. It was called that because it was the spot where the people often burned their garbage - especially the remains of the animals sacrificed at the temple- so it was a hot and stinky place. While we were standing at the overlook, looking down into that valley, someone was actually burning something down there. It was not an unpleasant odor for this camp director, so I don't think they were burning rotting animal parts, but I'm sure you remember that when the woman asked Peter if he knew/was a friend of Jesus, they were standing around a charcoal fire... that's what it smelled like. And wouldn't you know it? A rooster crowed in the distance!

I do not know if this was coincidence or just great theming, but it sure was effective!

We entered the chapel, which had some lovely icons, but the real draw was the pit over which the chapel had been built. The pit, of course, is the traditional place where Jesus spent his final night before his execution. In small groups, we went down into the pit and stood silently while Psalm 88 was real aloud. It was very moving for nearly everyone to contemplate Jesus' imprisonment in that place - or a place very like that - imagining the Son of Man reciting the words of that Psalm as he awaitied sentencing and the inevitable torture and death.

"You have taken from me friend and neighbor; darkness is my only friend."

By this time, everyone was dragging. It had been a long, cold day, and parts of the day were emotionally draining. We were all grateful when Rami told us that he was done, we were done, and it was time for supper. We returned to the the hotel for a delicious meal - and great wine from right down the road. Rami had suggested that the best way to combat jet lag at this point in the journey was to go to bed at our usual time. "If you got to bed at 10 o'clock in the States, go to bed at 10 o'clock tonight."

Most of us did not heed his advice. We went to bed at 8:30.