The Kotel
The Hebrew word Kotel is used to refer to the Western Wall in Jerusalem. This holy site is where the First and Second Great Temples once stood, both broken and ruined by the Romans, and is the holiest accessible spot in the world for any Jew to travel to. Millions of Jews each year make their trip to the Kotel to simply stand and pray, and be in the presence of G-d as one cannot find anywhere else, and many place prayers written on small pieces of paper in the cracks in the walls, hoping and wishing that G-d hear their prayers in this way.
This holy site was where we traveled today, after a half-day of archeological dig at Beit Shemesh, a tell at which we excavated caves and ruins. I managed to find several pieces of bone and pottery, all of which were no less than 2200 years old. The experience of having my hands sifting through the soil of Israel, of my homeland, and finding remains and artifacts from ancestors that walked the lands thousands of years ago was breathtaking. Seeing these finds and touching them gave a sense of age, of knowledge, and of importance to me for being able to participate in the dig, and the inquiry of my people's history.
The dig director, Ian, allowed us to take a few pieces of our own from the "trash" pile, so I now possess several artifacts from somewhere around 2200 years ago, if anyone is interested.
After the dig, we headed back to Tzuba, which we all now refer to as "home," for lunch and a small rest break. Then, I got all prettied up and boarded the bus for the Kotel.
I had no idea what to expect. Certainly, I had expected emotions to flow forth, but by no means did I think I'd find myself in tears simply at the sound of thousands of Jews praying together in a caucophony known as Shabbat T'fillah. Our group had a small service at the base of the ruins of the Southern portion of the Kotel (via the Zion Gate), and proceeded to the Western Wall.
Walking into the common area (after passing through a security checkpoint), felt like someone punching me in the stomach as hard as possible. I was dumbfounded. No words could explain the emotions goings through me at that very moment. But we were encouraged to go up to the wall and touch it, mingle with the crowd, celebrate Shabbat as it is in Israel, so I did. The very second my friends and I plunged into the mass of people, we received hearty "Shabbat Shalom!" greetings from everyone. No glum faces were seen, everyone was so happy and joyous to welcome the Sabbath and pray together. There were at least one thousand men in that small space by my estimate, so you can imagine how little space there is to move around, yet I somehow managed to find my way to the base of the Wall.
At first, I felt akward. I didn't know what to do. Then, out of nothing more than instinct, I reached out, stepped forward, and placed my hand on the stone. I felt like electricity was going through my blood, the power of millenia through my fingertips. The feeling is indescribable. Everything from joy to sadness, from anger to regret went coursing through my head, so much so that I didn't know how to react. Oddly enough, I found myself saying these words, "Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad." Hear O Israel, The Lord is our G-d, The Lord is One.
I rested my head against the stone, gripped it as tight as I could, and said the Shema again. Then the Shehechyanu, a prayer of thanksgiving for allowing me to be able to witness and exprience this day. Tears were flowing freely, and no sooner had I stepped away from the stone was I pulled into a large group of Chasidic men singing L'Cha Dodi. They were so friendly, so nice, and so genuinely happy to see me and to be there, that more tears, this time of joy, began to flow. We danced, sang, and immersed ourselves in being Jewish with perfect strangers from all corners of the earth, and let the emotions flow freely. After another hundred or so "Shabbat Shalom" wishes, and several invitations to come have Sabbath dinner, our group departed the Kotel, emotionally drained and happy beyond words.
Coming back to Tzuba on the bus, I was able to reflect on my exprience at the Kotel, and after speaking to several people over Sabbath dinner, realized that the first time anyone visits the Kotel, it is a life-changing moment. Certainly, it changed me, and is a moment I don't think I will ever let slip from my mind, not even for a second. It occurred to me that through all the doubts of adolescence and coming of age, through all the trials and tribulations, I never was truly seated in my identity as a Jew. As of today, I know where my heart and soul are, and that, my friends, appears to be in the East.
Shabbat Shalom
--Aron
This holy site was where we traveled today, after a half-day of archeological dig at Beit Shemesh, a tell at which we excavated caves and ruins. I managed to find several pieces of bone and pottery, all of which were no less than 2200 years old. The experience of having my hands sifting through the soil of Israel, of my homeland, and finding remains and artifacts from ancestors that walked the lands thousands of years ago was breathtaking. Seeing these finds and touching them gave a sense of age, of knowledge, and of importance to me for being able to participate in the dig, and the inquiry of my people's history.
The dig director, Ian, allowed us to take a few pieces of our own from the "trash" pile, so I now possess several artifacts from somewhere around 2200 years ago, if anyone is interested.
After the dig, we headed back to Tzuba, which we all now refer to as "home," for lunch and a small rest break. Then, I got all prettied up and boarded the bus for the Kotel.
I had no idea what to expect. Certainly, I had expected emotions to flow forth, but by no means did I think I'd find myself in tears simply at the sound of thousands of Jews praying together in a caucophony known as Shabbat T'fillah. Our group had a small service at the base of the ruins of the Southern portion of the Kotel (via the Zion Gate), and proceeded to the Western Wall.
Walking into the common area (after passing through a security checkpoint), felt like someone punching me in the stomach as hard as possible. I was dumbfounded. No words could explain the emotions goings through me at that very moment. But we were encouraged to go up to the wall and touch it, mingle with the crowd, celebrate Shabbat as it is in Israel, so I did. The very second my friends and I plunged into the mass of people, we received hearty "Shabbat Shalom!" greetings from everyone. No glum faces were seen, everyone was so happy and joyous to welcome the Sabbath and pray together. There were at least one thousand men in that small space by my estimate, so you can imagine how little space there is to move around, yet I somehow managed to find my way to the base of the Wall.
At first, I felt akward. I didn't know what to do. Then, out of nothing more than instinct, I reached out, stepped forward, and placed my hand on the stone. I felt like electricity was going through my blood, the power of millenia through my fingertips. The feeling is indescribable. Everything from joy to sadness, from anger to regret went coursing through my head, so much so that I didn't know how to react. Oddly enough, I found myself saying these words, "Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad." Hear O Israel, The Lord is our G-d, The Lord is One.
I rested my head against the stone, gripped it as tight as I could, and said the Shema again. Then the Shehechyanu, a prayer of thanksgiving for allowing me to be able to witness and exprience this day. Tears were flowing freely, and no sooner had I stepped away from the stone was I pulled into a large group of Chasidic men singing L'Cha Dodi. They were so friendly, so nice, and so genuinely happy to see me and to be there, that more tears, this time of joy, began to flow. We danced, sang, and immersed ourselves in being Jewish with perfect strangers from all corners of the earth, and let the emotions flow freely. After another hundred or so "Shabbat Shalom" wishes, and several invitations to come have Sabbath dinner, our group departed the Kotel, emotionally drained and happy beyond words.
Coming back to Tzuba on the bus, I was able to reflect on my exprience at the Kotel, and after speaking to several people over Sabbath dinner, realized that the first time anyone visits the Kotel, it is a life-changing moment. Certainly, it changed me, and is a moment I don't think I will ever let slip from my mind, not even for a second. It occurred to me that through all the doubts of adolescence and coming of age, through all the trials and tribulations, I never was truly seated in my identity as a Jew. As of today, I know where my heart and soul are, and that, my friends, appears to be in the East.
Shabbat Shalom
--Aron
posted by aron at 7:05 PM
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