The Old City of Jerusalem is complicated, crowded and at times overwhelming. I was first in Jerusalem almost ten years ago but happy to have a second chance to try to absorb all this ancient city has to offer. We arrived after dark and shuttled to the King David, a hotel with a rich history of accommodating dignitaries and world leaders. Exhausted from a memorable day in Cairo, we skipped dinner to get to bed early. Our room was somewhat underwhelming given the reputation of the hotel but we did have an excellent view of the old city wall.
Refreshed by a good night’s sleep, we started early for our old city tour accompanied by two guides, Shooti, a Jewish Israeli and Joseph, a Christian Palestinian. Each guide had different expertise but could also provide different perspectives on history and the current situation in Israel. We started the morning at the lookout atop Mount of Olives for a fantastic view of the old city as well as to orient ourselves to what we would experience below. It was a brisk, sunny day with excellent visibility and the Dome of the Rock on Temple Mount shone brilliantly with reflected sunlight. A wall with its eight gates dating back to the time of Suliman the Great in the 16th century rings the old city quarter. Immediately below us was a large Jewish cemetery with hundreds of casements and raised headstones so densly packed that it appeared as one continuous sea of marble.
From thenMount of Olives, we walked a short distance downhill to the Garden of Gethsemane, a small fenced in park with olive trees believed to be the spot where Jesus and his disciples prayed the night before his crucifixion. The garden was not open to visitors; we could only walk around its gated perimeter peaking inside at the 800 year old olive tree that still thrived in the garden.
Next to Gethsemane is the Church of All Nations that commemorates the spot where Jesus and his disciples prayed prior to his arrest. For this reason, the church is also referred to as the Basilica of the Agony. Built in 1920 with contributions from 12 nations, it has a colorful fresco above its entrance of a haloed Jesus being acknowledged as the Son of God; the paint on the halo sparkled when hit by sunlight creating a heavenly aura. In contrast, the interior of the church, although beautiful, is dark and sobering as many of these ancient churches are.
From the Church of All Nations, we could see the outline of the Golden Gate on the Western Wall. Sealed with bricks, it is the only one of the original eight gates that is no longer accessible. We heard two different versions of why – one explanation is that the gate was blocked by the Jews themselves and will not be reopened until the return of the Messiah. Another story says that the Muslims blocked the gate to keep the Jews from crossing their burial ground.
We drove into the old city and walked to the plaza surrounding Temple Mount. The last time I was here, this area was under construction and was not open to tourists. Temple Mount on top of Mount Moriah is a sacred place for Jews, Christians and Muslims. Jews believe it is the site of the Second Temple and the place where Abraham was ordered by God to slay his son Isaac, Christians believe this is where Mary found Jesus as an adolescent preaching in the temple to the rabbis and Muslims believe this is the spot from which the Prophet Mohammed ascended to Heaven. Today there are two important Muslim shrines here, the Dome of the Rock and Mosque of El Aksa.
The Dome of the Rock is the oldest surviving work of Islamic architecture despite Mother Nature’s efforts to topple it. Completed in 705, it rivals both in size and beauty other significant religious monuments. The dome collapsed in an earthquake in 1015 and was rebuilt; given the frequency of earthquakes in the region, the dome was significantly reinforced to ensure it would remain intact.
A mosque has been on Temple Mount since the late 600s. Destroyed multiple times by earthquakes, used as a palace and horse stable by the Crusaders and damaged by arson, the Mosque of El Aksa has been rebuilt, renovated and restored over the centuries but today remains closed to non-Muslims for security reasons.
We wandered around the plaza, people watching, taking photos and enjoying the warm sunshine. Faith and the belief in the sacredness of this site prompts diverse people from all over the world to visit; all was peaceful now as people talked, laughed, posed for selfies but I could not help but reflect on how these different beliefs have often resulted in violence and bloodshed over the ages.
From Temple Mount we walked to the Western Wall, commonly known as the Wailing Wall – a sacred place given its proximity to the site of the second temple, for Jews to pray and ask for God’s blessing and help. Often supplicants write their ask on a slip of paper and insert it in a crack in the wall. Men and women must separate to pray and not surprising the men’s prayer area is large and spacious, the women’s small and cramped. It was crowded – I approached the wall to touch it, then found a ledge to stand on to peer over the barricade to watch the men. It was much more interesting there – a bar mitzvah was in progress and there was chanting and praying and even candy throwing. Many orthodox Jewish men were bobbing and bowing as they prayed, many had their heads covered with white cloth.
Once we reconvened, Shooti told us a quick story. When Donald Trump was president and visiting Israel, he was brought to the western wall. He wrote a note and stuck it in the wall. Coincidentally, the next day the notes were removed from the wall – this happens every week and notes are typically burned and buried. Trump’s note had his name and phone number on it and read – hey God, give me a call if you need anything. Whether true or not, this seems very much in character for this narcisist.
Our last visit in the old city that morning was to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the spot believed to be the site of Christ’s crucifixion, burial and resurrection. To reach the church we walked though narrow cobbled and gated streets lined with shops selling all types of religious artifacts. We did not have time to walk the first nine stations of the cross (the last five are in the church) but I remember doing this the last time I was here and feeling like I was on a shopping tour since the ‘stations’ were marked by plaques on shops and restaurants. Yet Christian pilgrims still walk the Via Dolorosa, sometimes on their knees, to retrace the path of Jesus from his arrest to death.
The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is an enormous, dark, unsettling church built in the fourth century by Constantine to memoralize the death and resurrection of Jesus. Today it is controlled by four different Christian factions. We entered the church and immediately climbed to a small dimly lit alcove with a compact silver altar and crucifix. Through a glass covered opening, we could see the rocky ground below believed to be site of Christ’s crucifixion. The room was crowded but people waited patiently for their turn to peer down into the grotto, many kneeling to kiss the glass. Although the room was silent, people’s emotions were palpable, many with tears streaming down their cheeks.
At the bottom of this alcove was a stone slab, the next station of the cross, believed to be the place where Jesus’ lifeless body was cleaned, anointed and shrouded. Jesus died around 3pm on Friday and per Jewish religious tradition, the body had to be prepared and buried prior to sundown on Shabat. This necessitated that the place of annointment and tomb be nearby. Again people waited in line for their turn to kneel near the slab, many kissing the stone or laying their heads on it.
The line to see the tomb where Jesus was believed to be buried and rose from the dead was hundreds of people deep, so we opted not to wait. The tomb is actually the remnant of a small cave with a limestone burial shelf; it is enclosed by a small domed chapel ornate with gold called the Aedicule. Although it cannot be archeologically proven that this is Jesus’s tomb and some religious groups believe the Garden Tomb near the Damascus Gate is the actual burial place, National Geographic has continued to find evidence that the cave beneath the Holy Sepulchre is in fact a tomb from the era in which Jesus lived.
Squeezing through the mob of waiting people, we explored the less trafficked areas of the church. We came across an occasional supplicant but mostly enjoyed solitute being away from the crowds. Many areas of the church were under renovation and closed off; not unexpectedly, a fourth century church with hundreds of thousands of visitors each month likely requires regular maintenance.
The Church is managed by four Christian sects who have special prayer and access privileges at specific times. Visiting Holy Sepulchre for the second time has reinforced my dismay at how petty various religious sects can be. The Catholics built their own church, Church of Mary, next door so they can control their own schedule.
We lunched that afternoon at a lovely restaurant, Nafoura in the old quarter. Despite the sun, it was too cool to eat outside. The dining room opened to an outdoor walled patio with small fountain, not yet flowing, lined with fruiting orange and grapefruit trees.
After lunch we opted to visit the Israeli museum with Shooti. The model of Old City was a helpful in orienting us to the places we’d visited in the morning. A highlight of the museum is seeing remnants of the Dead Sea Scrolls. protected in a temperature and light controlled exhibit hall. Accidently discovered in clay jars in a cave near Qumran by Bedouin teenagers in 1947, the scrolls include fragments from the books of the Old Testament. Believed to have been written by a communal sect of devout Jews called Essenes, the papyrus manuscripts date back to 150BC – 70AD.
Back at the hotel, we had time to relax and watch the sunset over the old city from our window. An old building, the windows in the King David actually opened so I could photograph the colorful sky without shooting through a glass pane.
Dinner that night was at a local restaurant, Adom, a 15 min walk from the hotel. It was colder than I’d expected and as I walked I wrapped my shawl tightly around by shoulders although the up hill climb helped generate some warmth. The restaurant was in a part of the city I instantly recognized from my last visit – an area that looked like an old railroad yard turned arcade. A small merry go round, it’s horses stilled was surrounded by small shops and concessions. Adom was located at the end of this plaza. We enjoyed a nice meal and good conversation, then headed back to our room eager to visit sites outside Jerusalem tomorrow.