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The Heart of Jerusalem

The Heart of Jerusalem
Rabbi Ed Feinstein

Upon hearing that the paratroopers had fought their way to the heart of old Jerusalem, Shlomo Gorin, the chief Rabbi of the Israel Defense Force, donned a flak jacket and proceeded to the Temple Mount, where he announced to the Jewish people worldwide, “Ha-habayit B’yadaynu  -- The heart of Jerusalem is ours!” That was fifty years ago this week. The Six Day War of 1967 brought so many changes to Israel and to the Jewish people around the world. There are many intractable dilemmas of peace and war, justice and security. But for this moment, we can simply savor the miracle of our return to Jerusalem after 1900 years of exile.  

The Talmud taught that as the Roman armies came to destroy the Temple of Jerusalem, the priest climbed to the rooftop and cast their keys toward the heavens, proclaiming: “Master of the world, we have failed as guardians of your holy treasure. Here are the keys which you entrusted to us!” Since that day, Jews could only visit their holiest sites, and only with the permission of the authorities -- Christian Crusader kings, the Moslem Mufti, the Turkish pashas. Only in 1967, did the Jewish people regain access the Wall and the Temple Mount beyond. In her memoir, Golda Meir recounted that moment:  

For nineteen years, from 1948 to 1967, we were banned by the Arabs from going to the Old City or praying at the Wall. But on the third day of the Six Day War-Wednesday, 7 June-all Israel was electrified by the news that our soldiers had liberated the Old City and that it was open to us again. I had to fly to the United States three days later, but I couldn't bring myself to leave Israel without going to the Wall again. So that Friday morning-although civilians were not yet allowed to enter the Old City because shooting was still going on there-I received permission to go to the Wall, despite the fact that I wasn't in the government then but just an ordinary citizen, like any other. I went to the Wall together with some soldiers. There in front of it stood a plain wooden table with some sub,machine guns on it. Uniformed paratroopers wrapped in prayer shawls clung so tightly to the Wall that it seemed impossible to separate them from it. They and the Wall were one. Only a few hours earlier they had fought furiously for the liberation of Jerusalem and had seen their comrades fall for its sake. Now, standing before the Wall, they wrapped themselves in prayer shawls and wept, and I too, took a sheet of paper, wrote the word "shalom" on it and pushed it into a cranny of the Wall, as I had seen the Jews do so long ago. As I stood there, one of the soldiers (I doubt that he knew who I was) suddenly put his arms around me, laid his head on my shoulder and we cried together. I suppose he needed the release and the comfort of an old woman's warmth, and for me it was one of the most moving moments of my life.

Jerusalem is a city like no other. With a power like no other. Deputy Mayor Meir Benveniste reflected on this power that shapes the lives of Jewish and Arabs alike:

There is no place which arouses such deep, fanatical feelings as does Jerusalem. The city's atmosphere nurtures an exclusive possessiveness. There is no place where man feels his historical continuity more than in Jerusalem. The feeling that everything has been here since the beginning of time, gives those who live in the eternal city a feeling of modesty and humility. There is no other place where one feels the tragedy of two nations fighting for their homeland more than in Jerusalem. This is the only place in the world today where Jews and Arabs live side by side, and where the struggle is a real everyday occurrence and not an abstraction. He who decides to judge between the two sides must remember that only in fairy tales is one side all good and the other all bad. I belong to a nation fighting for its soul, and its soul is Jerusalem. I identify with my nation’s longing for Jerusalem. I, too, experience the transcendental experience of our return to the holiest of our places. At the same time, I am a son of this city and know the meaning of a son’s love for it. I cannot, and will not, forget the love, it is as strong as my own, of the Arab residents of Jerusalem for this city.

This week, commemorating fifty years, we can set aside for a moment all our pessimism and worry and revel in a miracle. What is Jerusalem to the Jewish people? Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai penned this tribute --

Jerusalem, port city on the shores of eternity.
The Holy Mount is a huge ship, a luxurious pleasure liner.
From the portholes of her Western Wall happy saints look out, travellers.
Chasidim on the dock wave goodbye, shout hurrah till we meet again.
She's always arriving, always sailing.
And the gates and the docks and the policemen and the flags and the high masts of  churches and mosques and the smokestacks of synagogues and the boats of praise and waves of mountains.
The sound of the ram's horn is heard- still another sailed.
Day of Atonement sailors in white uniforms climb among ladders and ropes of seasoned prayers.

Thu, March 28 2024 18 Adar II 5784