Jerusalem Diary

Psalm 122:2 "Our feet are standing in your gates,O Jerusalem. Jerusalem is built like a city that is closely compacted together."

Thoughts from my diary while in Jerusalem Israel..........

Sunrise in Jerusalem is unlike anything I've ever experienced. This is not a place to visit it is rather a thing that happens to you as you walk it's streets and narrow corridors teeming with life.

It's people are it's treasure as much or more than it's history or architecture. It is a unique juxtaposition of cultures, religion,and history. The city is part "Trick or treat",part "Fourth of July", part hate, part love, universal with a narrow twist. It is religious and cultural and ethnic tolerance at gunpoint; a city divided yet united; a clash of cultures and a melding of cultures.

This is not a place to be visited in the casual sense; it is neither inviting you nor rejecting you. If you will allow, it will simply and profoundly confirm and challenge everything you believe about people, culture and faith.

The cheap mockery of faith is everywhere. Praying at the western "Wailing Wall", a young Hassidic man laid his hand on my shoulder to pray for me . I was touched by his expression of faith and kindness only to have my spirit and heart violated and cheapened by a more than casual request for money. He persisted though I told him I really just wanted to pray.This experience was repeated on several different occasions at the temple mount and elsewhere in the city. Various trinket, amulet and religious vendors all trying to capitalize on the mercenary fervor that can be had at faith's expense.

But in the midst of the circus like atmosphere I was struck by the sincere passion, reverence and faith by so many from all around the world. I could spend a lifetime writing of the profundity of this place and perhaps eventually I will do so.

Walking from the Mount of Olives at night I descended down the mountain through Gethsemane and it's shrines to the bottom of the Kidron valley. As I walked further into the cool , dark , and starlit night, the floor of the valley became quieted by stone walls and the smells
of orchard and grass could be inhaled and all at once I was translated into a different time and place . I walked past Absalom's tomb and tomb of Zechariah and of the kings of old. It became obvious to me that this was probably the same exact route taken by Jesus after he was arrested in the garden and hauled up the stairs to the temple where the Sanhedrin met. I wept near that place for many hours as I became acutely aware of my sinfulness and failure and felt a part of the burden that Jesus carried for me through that valley on his way to his final destination, Calvary. A caring priest saw me weeping and wanted to assist me. I motioned him away as I could only bury my head in shame and retreated into the chapel at Gethsemane where I wept uncontrollably for hours. I stained the rock of agony with my tears and felt the presence of God there comforting me.
I eventually composed my self and walked up the long hill outside the city walls back to where I was staying in the old city at the Citadel Hostel. As I climbed up the hill I heard a shot fired in the distance from Olivet where earlier in the day I had seen some unrest . Some Arab youth had set several garbage cans on fire to provoke some sort of reaction from the police.The rest of Psalm 122 came to mind....''Pray for the peace of Jerusalem; May those who love you be secure. May there be peace within your walls and security within your citadels"