The Priestly Blessing

For the second day of Chol Hamoed Pesach (the intermediary days of the week-long Passover festival,) Steven and family invited me to join them on a trip to the Yemenite Village, a newly reclaimed Jewish area in East Jerusalem. We met downtown next to the old city.

Steven

Behind Steven is the number six bus with a photo of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, a map of Israel, and the slogan "A Palestinian State is Forbidden for Israel." (It sounds better in Hebrew.) Now here's my question: the map of Israel shown includes Judea and Samaria (aka the West Bank,) and even Gaza, which Israel evacuated a year and a half ago, but the map does not include the Golan Heights! And the Rebbe even penned a detailed argument as to why the Golan Heights is essential to Israel's security and must never be surrendered. It must be a misprint.

Walking along the outside of the Old City of Jerusalem, the walls are plastered with enormous blow-ups of ancient Passover Haggadahs (the Haggadah being the book we read on the night of Passover, describing the exodus.)

Massive blow-ups of ancient illuminated Haggadahs on the walls of the Old City of Jerusalem.

Yours truly, leaning on the Jaffa Gate

We walked back out the Zion Gate, and continued along the old city walls towards the kick-off point for the tour, which was next to the Dung Gate, at the entrance to Ir David (the City of David.) But when we got there, we still had half an hour before the beginning of the tour, so I walked to the Western Wall, a few minutes away.

An Ethiopian Kess (the equivalent of a Rabbi for the Ethiopian Jews) and a Chassid.

Thousands of visitors poured through the old city gates. Security was tight.

Walking through the gate, I passed through the metal detector and rounded the corner.

Security entrance, with women guards to search the women and male guards to search the men, in the interest of preserving modesty.

Just as I came around, the Priestly blessing began. To see a video, click here.

The priestly blessing was originally given by the Cohanim (the High Priests, modern descendants of Aaron, brother of Moses) during the temple service, a service which ended with the destruction of the temple 1,939 years ago. Since we are not able to ascend until the temple is rebuilt, the priestly blessing was included in our daily prayers, and is recited on major holidays throughout the world. Because of the enhanced holiness of the Land of Israel, the blessing is recited daily here. The priestly blessing is considered on such a high level of holiness that one is not permitted to even look at the Cohen as he delivers it.

The priestly blessing:

May the Lord bless you and keep you - יְבָרֶכְךָ יְהוָה, וְיִשְׁמְרֶךָ

May the Lord shine His face upon you - יָאֵר יְהוָה פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ, וִיחֻנֶּךָּ

May the Lord lift His countenance upon you, and grant you peace - יִשָּׂא יְהוָה פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ, וְיָשֵׂם לְךָ שָׁלוֹם

I've been to the Kotel (Western Wall) more times than I can count. I've seen people weeping as their emotions overwhelm them, or dancing with joy. But the Kotel has never had any such effect on me. I go there, say hello to Hashem (God,) pray hard, and go on my way. But this time it was different.

Cohanim line up at the wall, as throngs of Jewish pilgrims of every persuasion crowd in to hear the blessing, broadcast over loudspeakers.

Crowds press against the railing

A Closer-Up Shot

Five rows of Cohanim lined up against the Kotel

This was probably the most exciting thing I've ever seen at the Kotel. First, I was struck by the open miracle: tens of thousands of Jews were crowding around, and not one of them was speaking. No opinions, no arguments, nothing. One could feel a connection and unity of purpose so thick in the air it seemed to make all of life's travails seem trivial. It was as if, for an instant, the temple were standing again.

But, back to the struggle. The UN and the rest of the international community says that the Kotel is a West Bank settlement. Regardless of its holiness, all Jews must be banned. The Muslims claim that this is where Mohammed tied up his horse, and so in order for there to be peace it must be returned to its status prior to 1967 as Muslim property, when it was used as a public urinal.

But there's another group pushing in the opposite direction. It's time to get myself to Kfar Teimani, the Yemenite Village.

Heading out through the dung gate, back to the City of David for my tour.

Stay tuned...

The View from Mount Scopus

A famous Israeli song, "Me'al Pisgat Har Hatzofim," (From Atop Mount Scopus) was composed by songwriter Avigdor Hameiri, referring to the inspirational view seen from Har Hatzofim, Mount Scopus, which overlooks Jerusalem to the west, and the dead sea to the east.

The Hebrew University was founded on Mount Scopus in 1918, after the British, having liberated the holy land from its Turkish stagnation in the First World War, brought a new energy to the Zionist settlement movement. Sixteen years later, in 1934, the cornerstone of the Hadassah hospital was laid next to the university, with plans in the works for a new medical school. After Israel's independence War, despite repeated attacks, including the murder of seventy seven doctors and nurses in an armored convoy by the Jordanian Legion, the hilltop did not fall. After the war, the Jordanians agreed to allow Israeli access to the site as part of the 1949 armistice agreement, but they immediately betrayed the treaty and blockaded the area. Mount Scopus remained a demilitarized zone patrolled by a few United Nations soldiers, while Hebrew University and Hadassah Hospital were rebuilt in western Jerusalem (in Givat Ram and Ein Kerem, respectively.) In 1967, after Israel's recapture of the area, the campus and hospital were repaired and reopened, and Jerusalem now has two Hadassah's and to Hebrew Universities.

Since 1967, the area of Givat Tzarfatit, French Hill, which connects Mount Scopus with the rest of Jerusalem has been thoroughly built up to provide Jewish contiguity, in an attempt to ensure that the city will never be re-divided.

A local map. The green line indicates the "Green Line," the 1949 armistice line between Israel and Jordan. The little green rectangle is Mount Scopus. The red and purple lines are where the new wall dividing the city are being built.

I was on French Hill for Shabbat last week (it's also where I stayed during my first few days in Israel,) and had an hour or so before sunset to walk about and photograph the area. Unlike much of northern Jerusalem, which tends to be poorer and more religious, the neighborhood feels upper-middle class, and probably about half secular, with clean streets, cafes and coffee shops. It is surrounded on almost all sides by Arab neighborhoods, so the population on the streets is mixed.

Looking East, towards the Temple Mount.

These were some of the first buildings constructed beyond the "Green Line" in the 1970's.

Between the edges of the buildings.

The neighborhood has been around long enough, almost forty years, for the trees to have time to grow. In my own Pisgat Ze'ev, which has only been around for fifteen years, you can still feel the desert.

A treesy view.

Looking north towards Pisgat Ze'ev, and later Ramallah.

The two twenty-story twin towers built in the last couple of years represent a break with the six and seven story apartment blocks everywhere else on French Hill. Most people who live here hate them, but, being an engineer, I love anything big and man-made. They are also a good landmark when hiking. You can see these towers from photos on my previous posts from Beit El, Kochav Ya'akov/Tel Tzion, and Kever Shmuel, to name a few.

The twin towers of French Hill

Looks like they're building a third tower.

Building of the storage and maintenance center for the Jerusalem Light Rail system, scheduled date of completion: June, 2004. Expected date of actual completion: 2009. Or perhaps 2011 or 2012.

Looking over the Arab village of Anata towards the Jordan Rift valley and the northern shores of the dead sea.

A similar shot. The Arabs named the town Anata after the ancient Jewish city of the same name on the same location, as is mentioned in Tanach as the city where Yermiyahu Hanavi (Jeremiah the Prophet) was born.

There's a small park and a glen of pine trees (do pine trees come in glens or groves?) on the summit of French Hill. Being at such an altitude, French Hill has its own micro-climate, often receiving snow when the rest of Jerusalem stays dry (or at least snowless.)

Looking East, past Issawayah (Arab) and Ma'aleh Adumim (Jewish) in the midground.

A walk in the park.

Looking East towards Jordan. Issawiyah in the foreground, Maaleh Adumim in the background.
Issawiyah in the foreground, with a close-up of Maaleh Adumim, with the dead sea, and later the hills of Jordan, in the background.

Looking from French Hill towards Mount Scopus. Strangely, French Hill, merely a "Hill" is taller than Mount Scopus, a "Mount."

The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Mount Scopus campus.

Hadassah Hospital, Mount Scopus.

Walking back downhill I passed the only major shul (synagogue) on French Hill. The building on the left is the Sephardi shul, on the right is the Ashkenazi shul, and they're linked by a symbolic little bridge. There was actually much resistance from the neighborhood committee to get the shul built, amidst concern that this would transform the largely secular neighborhood in to a nest of religious fanatics. But the conflict was mostly worked out, and today it's a mixed religious/secular neighborhood.

The double shul on French Hill.

Speaking of which, the sun was awfully low in the sky, and people were looking at me funny with my digital camera. With the city-wide shabbat air-raid siren going off, it was time to turn off the digital camera and get ready.

Pesach in Pisgat Ze'ev

Today is the first day of Chol Hamoed Pesach (the intermediary festival days of Passover.) I decided to bike around Pisgat Ze'ev and snap some photos. Enjoy.

Signs advertising "Pesach in Chevron!" (Passover in Hebron)

The grocery store uses plastic to block off items which are not kosher for Pesach.

Long lines at the store. After the first day, everyone realizes what they forgot to buy (in my case, salt.)

I did a little bit of work, but it was such a nice day, I decided to go for a ride. Pisgat Ze'ev, and neighboring Neve Yaakov, are completely surrounded by the ever-present security barrier. It gives the whole area a locked-in ghetto feeling, and pretty much everyone hates the idea. Still, the wall included the Neve Ya'akov Forest within its boundaries, so I decided to ride over that way.

The wall, now an unpleasant reality. In Europe, the first Jewish Ghettoes were built by the Jews themselves.

I see the forest every day, when I go jogging. It really doesn't look like much from up high. A few trees and paths.

The Neve Ya'akov Forest.

Downhill is always easier.

But once you get closer, the forest envelops you, and it starts to feel a little bit like the pine forests of the California coast.

Inside the Neve Yaakov Forest.

Kids looking at frogs and tadpoles.

Ruins and fields, looking north.

Walking along, I came across an Arab shepherd and his flock.

One of his goats had given birth less than an hour ago. Here you can see the umbilical cord, still attached.

A crowd gathered around the spectacle.

Hikers and day trippers pass by.

Children playing in some ruins. The houses above are Neve Yaakov.

Of course the ever-present security fence watches over our comings and goings.

Yours truly on bike.

A new grove planted to the right of this photo. And now to head back uphill.