We landed in Ben Gurion International Airport in Tel Aviv at about four o’clock in the morning. As it was the Sabbath day, all normal modes of transport were not operating and so we had to take a special taxi from there to Jerusalem. These taxis take about 8 people and they just wait till full before starting their journey. We sat for about half an hour before the final passenger boarded and then we took off out of a very normal looking, modern day airport, back into history. I have to say I felt great excitement and anticipation in this land about which I had read so much. It was here that King David (the most famous of Jewish kings) had killed the giant Goliath (that most famous of Philistine warriors) with a single shot from his sling. Here the Ark of the Covenant had resided until finally lost sometime during the 6th century BC. Here the Jewish people were conquered many times over throughout their history, but especially by the Babylonians. Here in this land their great temple was destroyed not once, but twice. First by the Babylonians in the 6th century BC and then by the Romans in 70AD. It has never been rebuilt. Here we have the complete destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and the fall of Jericho (when those walls came tumbling down). The stories of Samson and Delilah, the wisdom of Solomon and the visit of the Queen of Sheba. Some of the stories may not be true and even some of the characters may not have existed, but many of them did. David certainly did and was king of his people whether or not he killed Goliath. The Ark existed and was carried around by the Israelites for many years before finally ending up in the great temple in Jerusalem. The Babylonians inflicted a great defeat on the Jews and brought them into exile for many years. Jericho is a real city, existing today as in the past, although the story of it’s walls crashing to the ground at the sounding of trumpets on Joshua’s order is surely apocryphal. Not to mention the fact that Jesus Christ, the most famous character in western civilization, also walked on this soil.
But no matter, separating history from legend is fascinating and the strange thing is that quite a lot of what is spoken about in the Bible and which many scholars shrugged off as not historical has turned out to be fact. For example many assumed Sodom never existed but now excavations have shown evidence of this ancient city, that at least it existed. In fact, a similar tale can be related about the city of Troy from whence came the famous Helen. Initially it was thought to be a fictional city in the story by Homer, but subsequently was actually found.
Anyway, here I was, in a taxi travelling through the land of Israel towards Jerusalem. Brought to mind the lines from Yeats’ poem “The Second Coming”:
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Then I saw the signs in Hebrew, Arabic and English pointing towards Jerusalem. At this point I knew I was really in this fantastic land. That may seem strange to say, but no matter what way you look at it, my whole Irish Catholic culture, whether as a believer or atheist, comes directly from this place. Maybe it took a slight detour via Rome, but it’s origins are right here.
Then suddenly we were stopping outside our hostel, the YMCA, right opposite the most well known hotel in Israel, the King David, a part of which was blown up by a militant Zionist group in 1946. But we were too tired to care, having being travelling from early morning the day before. We got to our room and crashed out.
However, later that morning we rose, eager to hit the old town of Jerusalem. We couldn’t see it from our window as the King David Hotel was in the way. After consulting our map and finding the route to the old city, we headed out of the hostel and crossed the road. Deftly dodging the taxi drivers touting for business, we made our way round the side of the King David and down a seriously hilly road. At the bottom we were rewarded with a first view of Jerusalem. For this we had come so far. It was magnificent even though we could only see one of the main walls and the Jaffa Gate across the valley. It reminded me forcibly of the woodcut I reproduce above of the pilgrims’ first sight of Jerusalem under the escort of the Knights Templar.
We entered by the Jaffa Gate, which had been built by Suleiman the Magnificent in the 16th century. At this time Jerusalem was ruled by the Ottoman Empire and it was due to Sultan Suleiman that the present walls of Jerusalem were built. So passing through this gate we passed by the original brickwork and mortar built by the Moslems nearly 500 years ago. The first thing we did was to breakfast at a little café inside the old city. So now we had to decide what to do next. There was such a choice, but we thought the best idea was to walk the walls themselves and so get an overview of the city. There are a number of different walks you can do, but we took the route from the Jaffa Gate round by the Damascus Gate to the Lion’s Gate. In hindsight this was the better of the two routes we could have chosen as it indeed gave us a great overview of the old city, including the Church of the holy Sepulchre which contains Calvary and the tomb of Jesus. Also the beautiful golden Dome of the Rock, one of the most iconic sights of Jerusalem, the Islamic shrine built on the Temple Mount.
It was a hot sunny day and remarkably few people were on the wall. We were able to take our ease and take in the sights. At the Damascus Gate we paused, listening to and watching the hubbub of people shopping in the market below. Much to our surprise we also noticed some Irish graffiti on a building “Tiocfaidh ar lá o saoirse”. I don’t know what it means but guess at something like “Our freedom will come one day”. Continuing along the walls we could see the Garden of Gethsemane in the distance across the Kidron Valley and the Mount of Olives, one of the places from which Christ is supposed to have ascended into heaven.
And suddenly right in our path comes a snake. He must have been about two feet long, a big guy. We managed to get one photo of him before he vanished over the edge of the wall.
We came down from the wall at the Lion’s Gate which is close to the point where the Via Dolorosa begins, the traditional path of Christ from where Pilot condemned him to death and ending at Calvary and his tomb. Of course, as modern scholars now point out, this is in the wrong place, but as with most things from the gospels there is more than one place commemorating where these events are supposed to have occurred.
No matter, after passing by the Church of the Condemnation and the Church of the Flagellation (what fantastic names) we came upon an intriguing little sign which simply pointed to the house of Mary, the mother of Jesus. This was at the side of the Church of St Anne which is a beautiful 12th century Crusader church erected over the traditional site of the birthplace of Anne who is the mother of Mary. Descending a flight of narrow steps I arrived in a small grotto type place which is supposed to be the house. A small little place, I guess it could have been anybody’s, but tradition has it as being the house of Anne and Joachim, the parents of Mary.
The church itself is supposed to have been designed for Gregorian chant and the acoustics are so perfect that many pilgrim groups come to sing in the church. We were privileged to be there during just such a performance by a group of black Americans. Their rich voices soared in that place and boy, was it a treat.
The church itself is next to the Bethesda Pool, believed to be the site where Jesus healed a paralytic. Here can be seen the ruins of a Roman temple to the god of medicine and also the remains of a Byzantine church built over the temple as well as the pool itself.
Afterwards we continued along the Via Dolorosa and spotted a group of pilgrims praying the Stations of the Cross. We decided to join them as they would surely lead us directly to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Which is exactly what happened. The present church houses both the Hill of Calvary and the tomb of Christ.
This is a fascinating building with a long history. Sometime after the crucifixion the site became a place of Christian veneration. However, after the Jewish revolt in 70AD the city of Jerusalem was totally destroyed by the Romans. Hadrian then rebuilt the city calling it Aelia Capitolina around 135AD but forbade Jews or Christians to enter it. He even constructed a pagan temple on the site of the present church.
However, all this changed after the emperor Constantine became a Christian. Legend has it that he was exposed to Christianity by his mother, Helena, but it was only before an important battle that Constantine, looking at the sun, saw a cross of light with the words “By this win”. He therefore commanded his troops to wear a Christian symbol on their shields and hence won the battle of Milvian Bridge, which gave him the emperorship of the West. Sometime afterwards he instructed Helena to go to Jerusalem, destroy the pagan temple, begin excavations and build a church on the site. She is alleged to have found not only the Hill of Calvary but also a tomb close by which was declared to be the tomb of Jesus. The church was built on the site but was damaged by fire in 916 and again in 966 during a riot. Finally it was completely destroyed in 1009. However it was rebuilt in 1048. Later the church was renovated and added to in the 12th century by the crusaders and again renovated by the Franciscans in the 16th century. It was severely damaged again by fire at the beginning of the 19th century and to this day is continually being excavated and renovated.
At present the principal custodians of the church are the Eastern Orthodox, the Armenian Christians and the Catholic Church. Others have a share in smaller areas. Unfortunately these groups continue to squabble and fight each other. In 2008 a fist fight broke out when a monk was ejected by some rivals.
However, the day we visited all was peaceful and calm. There is a strange palpable power in the place (perhaps wish fulfilment, I don’t know) and sitting quietly in one corner I noticed several people being overcome with tears. All reason and logic goes out the window and one sits and contemplates. Could it all be true? Was the Son of God really crucified only yards from where I sat? Whatever the theology, a human man was certainly crucified and buried here and whether he wanted to or not, it is because of him that the vast edifice of Western Christianity has shaped our history for more than two millennia. So there is an atmosphere of potent energy within the church, felt by believer and non-believer alike.
After a while I got up and went down some steps which led to the tomb. I queued for a short time as it only holds about three or four people and the priests like to keep things moving. But I was able to remain inside for a few minutes once again immersed in the great questions. After that we headed back to our hotel for a nice evening meal and some scoops.
The next day we decided to take a taxi up to the Mount of Olives and walk back down across the Kidron Valley to Jerusalem where we had a tour booked along Herod’s wall. Even though the driver tried to get us to change our minds and take a trip to Bethlehem instead, he turned out to be a very friendly character, a Palestinian and gave us advise on how to mind our money. I was actually touched when he shook my hand and gave us a blessing as we left his cab. Compared to him the surly curator of the Chapel of the Ascension which we visited first was most unfriendly as we paid our small entrance fee.
As with the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, there is quite a history behind this small round structure, but the present building is from Crusader times. Not an impressive place, the most interesting part is a small stone frame surrounding a rock with the supposed impression of the last footprint of Christ before he ascended to heaven. I have to say, it looked nothing like the shape of a foot to me.
After that we started to walk down the Mount of Olives to the Garden of Gethsemane. On this sunny warm day, the garden looked very serene, belying it’s terrible trauma of the night before Christ died. Today it is fenced off so you can’t walk through it, although you can stretch your hand in to touch the rough bark of the olive trees. Some say that it still contains olive trees which are approximately 2000 years old. But that is unlikely although they probably are descendants of the original trees. We continued our journey visiting the Church of All Nations which is very modern having been built at the beginning of the 20th century using funds donated by many countries around the world, hence it’s name. Being right beside the Garden of Gethsemane, it claims to contain the place where Jesus is supposed to have prayed on the night of his arrest.
We walked down into the Kidron Valley which separates the Mount of Olives from the old city itself. Walking through this valley we came upon some very ancient monuments, more than two thousand years old and it struck me forcibly that Christ must have seen these too as he was dragged to Jerusalem from the Garden of Gethsemane as this is the only route he could have taken.
Entering into the old city, we headed for the Western (or Wailing) Wall. It is the remains of the wall which surrounded the Jewish Temple and is one of the most sacred places for Jews today, as it is the closest they can now get to the Holy of Holies where God himself was supposed to have dwelt before the total destruction of the temple by the Romans around 70AD as mentioned above. One part of the wall is sectioned off for women, while we entered the men’s section (orthodox Jewry being very male dominated, even today). We were given a little skullcap made from cardboard to wear as a mark of respect and were allowed to go anywhere we wished. It is daunting to think that this wall was erected by King Herod the Great about 19BC. Some of the stones weigh up to 8 tons each with one in particular weighing in excess of 500 tons. How the builders moved and positioned them is just incredible. Of course I had to touch the wall itself and again the shear weight of history comes through. And crammed into every crevice were scraps of paper which hold prayers and petitions from devout Jews.
A large part of the wall continues underground and as we had booked a tour of this area in advance, we headed for the entrance to this fascinating historical guide. Suffice it to say that the walk took us through thousands of years of history in the footsteps of Herod, Solomon, David and others. At the end of the tour we exited into the Muslim quarter of the old city. This exit was only opened in the late 1980’s and caused a riot at the time. I remember walking along the street and had been one of the last to leave the tunnel. I noticed a young guy walking quite closely behind me and didn’t particularly feel at ease with it. I stopped and motioned for him to go ahead which he did, although giving me a funny look. Next thing I notice he was in conversation with my sons up ahead, so I caught up wondering what was going on. It turns out he was a member of Israeli security, part of whose job is to make sure that the visitors are safe on leaving the tour. I have to say I didn’t feel particularly unsafe, but I guess nothing is taken for granted in Israel.
Either that same day or the next day, I can’t remember which, we paid a visit to the Dome of the Rock. This is an Islamic shrine located on the Temple Mount one side of which is the Western Wall. This is a magnificent building, octagonal in shape with a massive golden dome on the roof. The gold was added by King Hussein of Jordan in 1993. Unfortunately, due to the Gaza war, we were not allowed inside the building. The Muslim curator explained, almost apologetically, that only Muslims could enter the building at this time. This was a great pity.
Another day we headed out of the old city and went to Mount Zion. Here, besides lots of churches commemorating one thing or another, we found a crusader built castle which houses the room of the last supper. Of course this cannot be the actual site as this was only built in the 12th century, but many scholars say it is probably the correct area. But it’s something for the visitors to see. Coming from this we came to another building which supposedly housed the tomb of David. We were stopped on the way in by a little man indicating that we needed to wear a skullcap, which were available from him for a small fee. We proceeded to enter the room with the tomb of David which a lot of scholars say is not where David rests at all. Anyway, once inside the door we were amused to find a box full of skullcaps which could be borrowed for free. So the little guy had taken us for a ride. Well, we didn’t lose much and it looked like he needed the money. Then he started telling us about the place, and we said we didn’t need a guide but found it difficult to get rid of him. At last when we were leaving he put his hand out for money and I told him we hadn’t asked for his services and he could take a hike. He turned quite nasty and called us filthy people. I just laughed and shrugged my shoulders but he sure as hell wasn’t getting another penny out of us.
Overall in the holy land we weren’t bothered by guys trying to get hired. Mostly we just ignored them and they quickly got the message. A few would persist trying out different languages on us, but we usually started speaking the little Irish we knew and they soon went away. Once I saw a taxi driver really hassling these two old folk and as I passed I noticed that they looked quite frightened. I stopped and said to the man, under my breath, “Just ignore him and walk away”. He took my advice and they walked with me a short way leaving the taxi driver shouting something after us. They turned out to be an American couple and they thanked me for my help. I said it was nothing and advised them to just keep walking if anybody bothered them. I have to add that I found the vast majority of the people we dealt with very friendly and even though there were soldiers walking around with guns hanging out of them all over the place, I never felt safer in a foreign city.
While visiting Mount Zion we also took the time to visit Oscar Schindler’s grave. It is a custom in Jewish graveyards that visitors place a stone on the tomb of people they visit. Schindler’s grave is packed with stones which is a mark of the respect the Jewish people felt for this German “Nazi” who helped so many of their people during the war.
As with many other places in the Holy Land, there is a second site which purports to be the room of the last supper. This time it is inside the old city of Jerusalem. It is not a place you can just walk into and we had to find ourselves a guide. I think our guide turned out to be an Armenian nun and she opened up the place for us. It was a beautiful old church in the Armenian quarter. The nun began to regale us with miracle stories and eventually we had to ask her if we could see the last supper room. She brought us downstairs and turned on the lights, explaining that the street level was lower in those days and while this room was below ground now, in Jesus’ time it was on the second floor. It was a small room, sparsely furnished with some pictures and a small altar. Going back upstairs I asked her if she could speak Aramaic, the language that Christ spoke. She said yes and offered to sing the Our Father in Aramaic, which she did. Although interesting, I would have preferred if she had simply recited it as I wanted to hear what the language itself sounded like, although I suppose I could just watch Mel Gibson’s film, Passion of the Christ, to hear it.
During our week in Jerusalem we hired a car for one day. While tourists are not allowed to drive hired cars in the Palestinian areas, we are allowed to drive on one designated Israeli controlled road through the West Bank. On our way, we were flagged down by an Israeli soldier weighed down with a heavy automatic machine gun. He couldn’t have been more than twenty years of age and asked us where we were going. We told him, Masada. “Okay,” he says, “Can I have a lift? I’m going as far as Qumran which is just down the road.” Well, what do you say to a guy asking for a lift who’s toting a machine gun? I guess you say yes. So he got into the back of the car, hauling his automatic with him. He turned out to be a very nice guy and we chatted in general about Israel and tourism. We thought it mightn’t be a good idea to ask him for a go of his gun!
Having left our guest at Qumran (where the Dead Sea scrolls were discovered) we continued on to Masada. This is a fortress built by Herod the Great and sits on top of a massive rock plateau which rises out of the surrounding landscape to a height of about 1300 feet on the side closest to the Dead Sea and about 300 feet on the other side. It is an ideal place for defence as access is difficult and dangerous. A few years before the fall of Jerusalem in 70AD the small Roman garrison at Masada was overcome by a group of Jewish rebels and their numbers were much enlarged after the destruction of the city by more rebels fleeing from the battle. For about two years these rebels raided and harassed the Romans until Flavius Silva, a Roman general marched against Masada. Well defended and almost impossible to attack directly, Masada held out against the Roman siege. Eventually the Romans built a ramp up the side of Masada and hauled a battering ram up to the walls where they eventually gained entry. However, when the Romans entered Masada, they found all the men, women and children dead. The Jews had decided to commit mass suicide rather than be taken by their sworn enemy.
My two sons braved the hour long walk up the side of Masada along the so called Snake Path. I, on the other hand, took the cable car. The view from the top is stunning, the Dead Sea below (it’s the lowest point on Earth at 1200 feet below sea level) and the land of Jordan in the distance. The remains of Roman siege camps are also easily seen in the landscape below. The basic structure of the fortress can still be seen today, the walls, the remains of the houses and storerooms, the massive water cisterns, and Herod’s palace. Of course the ramp built by the Romans is still there, but it doesn’t look as impressive as it must have done originally as a lot of it looks to have collapsed.
After a few hours walking around the Masada fortress we got in the car and drove to one of the areas where you can take a dip in the Dead Sea. As this is one of the saltiest bodies of water in the world it is impossible to actually swim in it. You simply wade out and sit down. You cannot sink. It is a most amazing experience, as your arms, upper back and legs are pushed above the surface and you can sit quite happily in the gently undulating current. Very relaxing indeed. Of course you are strongly advised to take a good cold shower on emerging as the salt can sting badly.
After this somewhat exhilarating experience we drove to Ein Gedi, an oasis in the Israeli desert, which is also a sanctuary for many types of plant, bird and animal species. It is a wooded hilly area with at least one river flowing through it where we sat and watched the hyrax (rock badger) jumping from rock to rock, sometimes in groups of five or six. Here we also saw the hoopoe, Israel’s national bird, a most colourful character with a beautiful crown of feathers on it’s head. Here it was, in old testament times, that King David hid from King Saul.
On another day, we walked around the more modern city of Jerusalem. Here we visited the Garden Tomb. Because some doubts were raised during the 19th century about the authenticity of the traditional sites of Golgotha and the tomb of Christ, some scholars searched for other possible places. A number of them suggested what is now referred to as the Garden Tomb as a more likely spot. This is situated outside the old city walls near the Damascus Gate. Here was found a rocky escarpment which resembles the face of a skull. A rock hewn tomb was found close by. While this is a beautiful and serene place, the majority of scholars today do not think it is the site of Christ’s crucifixion or tomb.
Moving on we walked through an ultra-Orthodox Jewish area. Visitors to this part of Jerusalem, while welcome at certain times, are asked to respect the values of the people living here and to dress and act appropriately. It was an interesting place to visit as we saw no other tourists there that day and everybody else was dressed in the traditional black coats and hat, with their long bushy sideburns and beards. We didn’t notice any women either.
Finally on one of the days, we split up and went our separate ways. Andrew went to visit the botanic gardens and then the Knesset, the Jewish parliament. Unfortunately for him the Knesset was closed that day so he went to the Israel Museum instead. Daniel went to the zoo and got some great photos. I went to the Jewish Holocaust Museum, Yad Vashem. This is Israel’s official memorial to the Jewish victims of the holocaust and comprises a history museum, a museum of holocaust art, memorial sites, a synagogue, as well as an education centre, a research centre, library, archives and a publishing house. The history museum was very impressive (if you can give such a description to pictures and videos of death). It contained thousands of pictures, film clips, testimonies of survivors including condemnations of those countries (including the Vatican) who stood by and did nothing while the concentration camps at Auschwitz and elsewhere carried on their evil work. One of the exhibits outside in the grounds which affected me most was the Cattle Car Memorial. This is an original working German railway cattle car which actually carried Jewish victims to their deaths in one of the concentration camps. Over a hundred people were crammed into this car so tightly they couldn’t sit down. The journey could last days and they had no food or water. If they needed to relieve themselves they had to do it on the spot. It was hell on earth. I stood for a long time just staring at this railway truck and tried to imagine the horror but could not. What I could conjure up in my mind was indeed horrible, but I’m sure nothing like the pain and terror these people must have suffered. I came away unable to grasp fully how inhumane man can be to his fellow beings. A very sad place, but a powerful reminder of a period of history we should never forget.
Finally, bidding the holy city farewell, we took a train to Tel Aviv, a modern bustling city founded in 1909. Even here you cannot escape the grasp of history as, while strolling on the beach, I came across and read the monument in memory of the Altalena, a ship shelled by the Israeli provisional government in 1948.
And even today Israel is still a troubled land. For more than two thousand years the Jewish people have been persecuted and mostly by so called Christian peoples. For how much longer must that terrible curse in Matthew “His blood be upon us and our children” reverberate and give excuse to anti-Semitism? I pray it won’t be long.
