Jerusalem of Longing: Between the Remnants of the Past and the Hope for the Future

Everything was so close to me, and I didn’t know.

Countless times I’ve visited the Western Wall, the Old City, the Quarter.

Praying, breathing, smelling, photographing, observing, trying to absorb the colors, the sights, the holiness, the flavors, the styles, the aromas, the... well, Jerusalem.

That’s me. A Jerusalemite by birth. Even though I spent most of my years in Gush Dan (and dreamed of living in Jerusalem, until... thank G-d, my dream came true!).

But until this week, I had no idea what treasures I was passing by so many times.

Mosaic and columns from the Herodian Quarter

I enrolled in a tour course in the Western Wall area, for a long time I’ve been looking for such a course that would reveal to me the secrets behind the familiar story we all know, giving a peek at the layers beyond, behind.

This week, I was blessed.

Where to begin?

It’s indescribable, it’s impossible to convey in words. So many treasures beneath our nose, and I didn’t know (even though I traveled to search for them under a bridge...).

Maybe I’ll tell you about the tour in the archaeological park, the one everyone passes on the way to the Western Wall, between the Dung Gate and the prayer plaza.

About the authentic steps we walked on to the Temple Mount (yes! Authentic!!), set in the ground for over two thousand years, waiting for us to return and walk up to the Temple that will soon stand there.

Arab villages where the City of David was located

Dozens of long, long, long steps that can accommodate thousands of people simultaneously, during holidays, on regular days, ascending towards the otherworldly realm, that on the mountain. A world where time stood still, with a wondrous system of daily miracles, a pillar of smoke rising day and night connecting earth to sky, a narrow space that held much, to sacrifices, and holiness, and the Holy of Holies, and showbread, and a laver, and an altar, and kohanim and Levites and a direct connection between man and Hashem.

There we stood on the steps, I and a few dozen other women, before the sealed Hulda Gates trying to imagine the thousands ascending with reverence, in awe at the encounter with the Shechinah. About children with pure looks, and trembling adults, about modest women, and the singing of the Levites. The song of the Levites-------

And the Temple above, resplendent in its glory, the center of the entire universe, the source of strength, might, and power, the source of holiness and purity, joy, wisdom, discernment, purity, beauty, grace, grandeur, strength, and Torah.

A palace of a king, here on the material earth, another atmosphere.

And then... we lifted our gaze and saw the sealed Hulda Gates. And the gray dome of Al-Aqsa Mosque, we heard the muezzin’s call, and we remembered that we are in exile. Still.

What to tell about?

Maybe about the fascinating tour of the Herodian Quarter. About remnants of grand houses of the priestly families, lower levels of the houses that survived all the upheavals of time in tumultuous Jerusalem these past two thousand years.

And they stand there as silent witnesses.

At first, it seemed promising. A lower level of a house with stunning mosaics that haven’t faded with time, rooms clearly visible, and six purification baths (in one house) that testify among other things to it being a priestly house, which required maintaining a special purity.

We were moved by the many mikvahs until we learned they were not built according to halacha. It turns out the house belonged to Sadducean priests. Another sad layer in the history of the Jewish people wherein different groups in the nation tried to interpret, explain the instructions of G-d according to their skewed understanding. (And unfortunately, they still try to do so, and the Reform 'Ezrat Yisrael' area at the Western Wall, abandoned one might say, is just one testament to that).

We continued to other priestly houses. Remains of grand columns, exquisite mosaics, walls with rare engravings, ceilings with magnificent carvings, lots of stunning external beauty but also much internal ugliness.

Hurva Synagogue

And the story behind the houses is one of pride, desire, waste, and also corruption at the end of the Second Temple period (under Roman rule). Corruption of people who took money from the temple treasury and pocketed it, while oppressing the people. A story of the poor people who tried to fight them, not always in the right ways, a story of baseless hatred that burned and festered between the two sides and consumed everything with terrible fire.

A fire that still burns today within us, delaying the building of the Third Temple every day.

Maybe I’ll tell you about the tour of the City of David, about the 'bulla' found there with the names of scribes from King David’s period inscribed, and the names are mentioned one by one in the prophets. About the City of David itself, where they try to mend the broken pieces and present another column remnant, another striking finding, another interesting engraving or carving.

And when you lift your eyes and see the full hatred emanating from the residences in Silwan opposite, and the desolate Mount of Olives people hesitate to visit for fear of the Arabs swarming there, and also about the homes of stubborn Jews daring to live in between, a true cry erupts from the heart, for the Kingdom of David to be established and set in its full beauty and might, not just in the form of a beautiful column remnant, however beautiful it may be.

A mighty kingdom that will change the entire world, purify everything, cleanse, remove the filth and dirt, awaken weary hearts, lost souls, tired eyes, and reveal the light of the King of the world – to the whole world.

And maybe, maybe I’ll tell you about the tour of the 'Hurva,' the synagogue called that for centuries, 'Hurvat Rabbi Yehuda HaHasid,' 'Hurvat Al Shkenaz' as the Arabs called it, the Hurva that was also destroyed by the Jordanians when it was captured during the War of Independence, the Hurva that stood like this for decades even after it was returned to the Jewish people in the Six-Day War and only a stone arch testified to its lost and vanished beauty.

The Hurva, which perhaps it is the one giving a glimpse and an opening to the vision of redemption.

The Hurva that was built a few years ago and precisely restored as it was built almost 200 years ago. The Hurva that is no longer destroyed. And there is the sound of Torah every day, and the sound of prayer, and children playing in the streets nearby, and yes, you can also see people there, their canes in hand from old age.

The Hurva, however much they tried to destroy it, they couldn’t, and it stood and was rebuilt anew.

The Hurva that symbolizes the yearning of Jews throughout the generations to reach Jerusalem and build another layer on the path to redemption. Whether it’s the Ramban whose synagogue is adjacent to it, or Rabbi Yehuda Hasid who purchased its land, or the students of the Vilna Gaon who redeemed it.

Authentic Steps from Second Temple to Temple Mount

In an external view, they destroyed again and again what they built, but anyone who came after them rose and restored their work anew.

So yes, we haven’t reached the last stretch yet.

In Jerusalem, the sound of the ringing and chanting of the many prayer houses around is still heard, the voice of Hashem is still not clearly heard.

But there is hope.

We wandered there, a group of women maintaining that ancient tradition of two millennia. Who meet daily with the same words written by King David, the one whose palace we roamed. Who pray daily prayers that serve as a temporary replacement for the sacrificial service.

We were there, women of Kohanim and Levites and Israel, who use those very same mikvahs like those scattered there (and we saw remains of kosher mikvahs according to halacha near the Western Wall itself), whose husbands and children learn the same Torah that was stored in the Ark in the Holy of Holies.

And we prayed that this chain we have held for two thousand, will finally reach its last link and we will merit to see its complete beauty.

The beauty of King Mashiach.

May it happen soon in our days, Amen.