Shabbat on the Kotel (Wailing Wall)
July 18th, 2006
One of the more beautiful things that take place here in Israel is the observance of the Sabbath. The buses stop running, few to no cars can be seen on the road, most shops and restaurants are closed from sundown Friday eve to sundown on Saturday eve. Do to the imposed day of rest, for those of us from the states who are not used to preparing for such a complete halting of services as occurs on the Sabbath can find this day to be quite irritating if one would have anything that they would need to get done.
As is usual in the world of Jonah (the one where it is just a bit impossible to plan more then 2 hours ahead) I found myself not quite prepared when the Sabbath came upon us about a week or two ago. So after class let out, a friend of mine asked I had any plane for the Sabbath, and not to my surprise I didn’t have any, so I responded “no”. He then asked if I wanted to walk down to the old city with a couple of friends of his. I thought that it might be fun, so I agreed to join them. Our numbers started out as six when we headed out to the Old City on foot (no buses, few to no affordable taxies, by foot was the most readily available option).
One thing I have to say about traveling around Jerusalem. No matter what happens, there is always the option to travel by foot. You are never stranded anywhere in the city. In about just one and one-half hours or perhaps two, you can walk the city’s span. I find this incredibly convenient, however like most things, in this to there is a catch. If one decides to walk about the city of Jerusalem one will constantly feel what I now call the one true geographical anomaly (and no, I don’t mean animal)! Just as grandpa used to lie when he would tell us that he would walk to school barefooted in six feet of snow… uphill Both ways, in Jerusalem no matter where you go you are walking uphill! Perhaps this is why the Psalms of Accent (Psalms 120-134) always mentioned going up to Jerusalem.
As it is, even though we started a good 500-600 ft above the Old City, we somehow ended up walking uphill to it. By the time we had reached the Old City, we planed on meeting up with one more to make our group a perfect Seven in number. And even though we almost had to walk the complete circuit of the Old City (the whole length of the outer wall) to find him, we eventually met up at the Jaffa Gate (AKA the Beautiful Gate). Some of the number in our group had yet to see the Kotel (Wailing Wall) so we made that our first planed stop. In our meanderings though the Old City on the way to the Kotel, we came across several group of high school kids doing what is called a “birthright pilgrimage” where Jewish students tour Israel in order to become familiar/attached to the land that GOD gave them. And as all good things do, these pilgrimages end at the Kotel, the closest one can get to the Temple mount (the place where the Temple of GOD stood) without going up on top. These birthright pilgrimages are wonderful to observe, full of singing, dancing, praying, and great excitement that can only occur in large gatherings of youth.
At the Kotel, one pilgrimage group that we inadvertently followed filed through the one door security station and out onto the Kotel plaza. It is at this point where all men separate themselves from the women as each gender moves down the plaza to their respective sides of the segregated Wailing Wall to again pray and sing more songs (one of which included jumping up and down which I think was irritating some of the more orthodox Jews who were at there stations’ dressed all in black, saying prays and ushering in the Sabbath). It was at this point where the guys and girls in our group split up to go down to the Kotel. Now it is a grave rule that all men must not come before GOD with their heads uncovered so those of us without a hat (all head coverings are acceptable, baseball caps included) are provided one at the cardboard-kippah dispenser (a kippah is a small hat that just covers the back/top of one’s head which sometimes resemble a doily)
Kippah …
Doily … 
Me being as prepared as I am, I had no hat, so I promptly place the cardboard kippah on my head and proceeded down to the wall. After a moment at the Wailing Wall my friends and I reconvened for the beginning of the Sabbath, we looked on the wall and the now very crowded plaza as the Shabbat was now upon us. It was at this time a rather wryly Jewish man began running around gathering people up and asking them questions. He made his way over to our group and asked us “what are you doing tonight!” and “where are you going?!” and “Do you have a place to be!?” To which of all of these we answered “I don’t know”. So he said back to us “You come with me!… You will eat at my house! Wait here… follow this man!” So we filed in behind this guy who walked out the Old City and a very brisk pace and up the hill (always uphill) to a Jewish neighborhood where we squeezed into an apartment about 900 sq ft to find a good 40 people already gathered for Shabbat Dinner waiting for new comers.
The whole of events that happened after we joined them for the Shabbat dinner were one of the coolest things I could have hoped to experience in Israel! The man whose apartment we were in had been doing this for the past 15 or so years. He and his family prepare a Sabbath meal and then go out and find anyone they can to share the meal with. Whether Christian or Jew or Muslim or Agnostic or if you speak English or Hebrew or German or anything, in his house on the Sabbath you are welcome at his table. The only thing required to partake in this meal is respect each other and have no talk of politics. The course of the evening went as follows. We washed our hands (the orthodox Jew sitting next to me showed me how I was to do it – Matthew 15:2?) Said a blessing and broke bread. Then conversation and much eating filled the eve as food kept coming from the kitchen until our host stood and gave an interpretation of the Parsha (weekly reading from the Torah) and then invited anyone else to give any kind of interpretation/teaching they wished as long as they followed the respect and no politics rule. People of all ages and languages would stand up one after another to perhaps bless the people at the table (tables) with their interpretations or teachings that they had gained through life or study. At then end of the meal, our host again arose and bless GOD and we shared in the fruit of the vine together (wine). He again thanked all of us for coming and invited us back any time we wanted.
That evening we walked back to our little hill on the other side of the Old City with a unique form of calm and companionship that swirled around us as we spoke with each other. In the midst of the reality that can be found only in Jerusalem… that is; The place where the world’s three major religions and peoples baring cultures from everywhere are crammed together into one little city is about as volatile a situation one could create. And in the midst of all this religious and culture and political tension, that evening I had a truer sense and vision of what peace is and I was not the only one who was effected by it. My friends were moved in such a way that they were searching for songs that we could all sing together. And when common songs could not be found we found ourselves listening to each other sing songs about anything and everything.
What does it mean when we say Shabbat Shalom (Sabbath Peace)? I believe now believe I have seen it first hand over a meal where we broke bread and drank wine. GOD is good.
July 19th, 2006 at 4:01 pm
Jonah,
I really enjoyed leaning from the blog today. You are so right, God is so good and what a beautiful touching experience you had with this family. May God continue to bless you is my prayer.
I love you very much.
Aunt Janet
July 22nd, 2006 at 1:24 am
What a great story Jonah!
I actually got to use this great story in a bible study I was at yesterday! Goes to show how God’s blessings can be shared and go around!