While packing for my trip to Israel in March, I dreamed what it would be like to sail on the Sea of Galilee or to stroll the Via Delorosa, the SAME road Jesus struggled to walk as he carried his cross to eminent "death." Sure, I also wanted to see the Dead Sea and the Western Wall (a.k.a. The Wailing Wall.) I was told it was special to place a prayer scroll in the crevices of the wall, so I asked two friends if they had a prayer I could deliver for them.
As we traveled Israel from north to south - the day came to enter the old city of Jerusalem. My senses were on overload -so much to see, so much to hear. And many real Jewish bagels to eat (they are the best I've ever had!) As I walked through a metal detector guarded by Israeli soldiers, my eyes were drawn to the mass of people to my right. Clearing the security station I wandered toward the crowd. "What is this all about?" I thought. Then - there it was, the famous Wailing Wall. I stood amidst the crowd, still as can be, as if all alone but in a sea of unfamiliar faces. Every detail of what my senses took in was slowly processed as it filtered through my mind. What I was witnessing was sacred. I was standing on Holy Ground and I was not worthy.
The day I visited the Wall was the Jewish holiday of Purim. Every child and pre-teen, and even some adults, were dressed as Spongebob, a princess or some other character (which is customary for Purim.) Because of the holiday, the square was flooded with Jewish families there to worship, celebrate bar/bat mitzva and to socialize.
It seemed different that I had imagined it would look. Yes, it was grand and stark white due to the natural stone it was crafted from. But it had a presence. A stone wall, with a presence bigger than it's sheer size ~ this wall had experienced thousands of years of violent history. This wall is very important to many people and this day, that was very apparent to me.
The time came, I had to make my way to the wall in order to place my friends' prayers into the cracks of the gigantic stone blocks, if I could find room. Every nook and cranny was stuffed with little rolls of paper filled with cries of pain or even gratitude. The wall is divided: men on the left, women on the right with a 6 foot wall separating to two. The men's side is about three quarters of the wall and the ladies had the remaining quarter. Literally there were hundreds of women stacked 20 or so deep from the wall. I patiently and reverently stood in my place and slowly crept forward as the crowd progressed. I watched in awe the of young ladies with their prayer books as they went through their rituals before the Great Wall. I had my camera and desperately wanted a picture to remember the moment. But I felt as if I was violating the sacredness of the space if I whipped out my digital SLR (not a small camera). But I did, very discreetly not to disturb anyone.
I stood in silence as my heart raced. It became grander the closer I got. When I was about 2 or 3 ladies from the Wall I felt emotion welling up from a deep and distant place inside of me. Uncontrollable emotion (which is happening now as I recall this experience). When I was only one woman away from the Wall, I couldn't wait any longer to engage it. So I carefully reached past the praying lady in front of me, placed the prayer scrolls on a high ledge then laid my left hand flat, palm to the ancient cold stone. Feeling it's story. I felt a connection to it immediately. Strangely, but it was as if I had been there before, crying out to God at that very Wall. My emotions were overflowing as I made my way back through the crowd.
When leaving the Wall, you don't put your back to it. Instead you walk backwards while facing the it. I did this the best I could without tripping over the mass of women, plus my eyes were wet with streaming tears. It took a while to compose myself after that deep religious experience. God's presence was so real, more real than I've sensed, ever. It was as if I was truly standing on His Holy Ground, right beside Him. It was overwhelming. Beautiful. And and honor. I am forever changed because of the gift God gave me. Meeting with Him at the Wailing Wall.
2 comments:
Thank you for sharing that deAnn! It brought tears to my eyes as I read about your experience.
I worked for a Jewish attorney a few years ago. One day he told me about his trip to Israel and specifically, to the Wailing Wall (he calls it the Western Wall). He said that he has never been spiritual; he is Jewish by heritage and that is it. But when he got to the Wall, he touched it and it was as if electric current passed through his hand, throughout his body. He weeped at the Wall. He went through a pretty tough battle with cancer a few years ago and he told me that he would often remember that time at the Wall, and it would give him strength. That's one powerful Wall : )
deAnn,
Thanks for sharing your experience. I love the way you tell it, in a way that can prompt my minds eye to see! Thanks for the visual. I love to hear of other's travels.
Love ya,
Jane
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