Shabbat Shalom

It is Shabbat which begins at Sundown on Friday.  Wandering through the streets of Old Jerusalem, once again buying a cup of fresh squeezed pomegranate juice (YUM) and watching the setting sun highlight the Mount of Olives and the rows of houses on the hills was truly beautiful.  We made our way down a very long hill to the Western Wall.

It is such a unique place, the walls so high and the massive stone blocks testifying to the story and longing of the Jewish people...  Here they still gather at the wall, praying and rocking and reading from their small books.  The women on one side of the divider and the men on the other.  Because it was Shabbat, there was a celebratory feeling in the air and there was dancing and singing, children dressed in their Shabbat finery, men wearing their tall black hats, long black coats and shoes, and women wearing dresses with scarves wrapped around their heads.  There were also groups of soldiers, both men and women, carrying guns and some joining in and dancing along with the Jews.

I spent some time at the wall before things grew too busy and I laid my hand on the ancient stones, praying for the peace of Jerusalem.  Tears fall unbidden and my cry joins that of millions of others.  There are small pieces of paper, folded and crammed into the tiny spaces between the massive stones.  Doves fly above and nestle into grooves, hiding themselves in the cleft of the rock, as it were.  It is timeless, this place of weeping and waiting and longing.  We gather there together, the deeply religious and the traveler, young and old.  A place like no other.  The Jewish women back away from the wall reverently, instructing their children.

We took a taxi back to the Ben Yehuda Street area where we had a delicious supper at a restaurant Hannah was familiar with.  So interesting to see how this part of Jerusalem shuts down for Shabbat.  The streets are nearly completely deserted, shops are closed and it is very quiet.  Just the few lights shining on the cobblestones under the dark night sky.  There is the occasional stand or shop that is open, probably operated by the Arabs. We returned to the hotel room where we shared communion.  Hannah knew the Hebrew prayer which was beautiful.

Tomorrow we will be moving to a guesthouse in the Old City called Christ Church and we are hoping to see the Garden Tomb.  Because it is Shabbat there is no public transport which makes it awkward.  The Taxi drivers charge very high rates because they can.  And there are so many hills here making it difficult for me to get around, but that is not stopping us.  Dear Hannah just grabs onto my wheelchair and away we go!

I just love being here in Jerusalem.  I can hardly put into words what I am really seeing and feeling, but it is truly rich.  There is so much energy, life and history unfolding before my eyes.