Gathered close to Him

Today was a day filled with mixed emotions for our group. We knew what we were in for today. We knew that we would see not only the Western Wall of the ancient temple, but that we would also end our day at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Museum located in Jerusalem.

We boarded our bus for a short drive to the temple wall. The presence of the Israeli military was felt heavier than any other site we had been to. It is clear that this is their holiest site, a site where no act of violence can find its way in. It’s the only place in Israel so far where we have not only walked through metal detectors, but the only place where we also have had our bags searched. The importance to keep such a site holy was clearly visible by the protection given.

Separating the Islamic controlled territory from the Jewish controlled territory rises a large wall, topped with barbwire and watchtowers. The division is not simply to keep separate places holy in their own right; the division is a division of ideologies and perspectives. As we walked closer to the towering Western Wall, we could hear the songs and prayers of the many Jews who gather here to pray, facing the wall to be closer to where the Holy of Holies would have been. Rocking back and forth, both men and women placed their hands on the walls, praying their prayers aloud over and over. It was an amazing site to see.

We too had a chance to pray at the wall. Though the wall does not bring one closer to God so that all of a sudden he can hear our prayers clearer than other places in the world, one cannot deny the sacredness of the space. After writing our own prayers on small pieces of paper, we approached the wall one by one, heads covered, to stick our prayers in the wall. The symbolic gesture reminds us of the holiness of the site, and reminds us of those who came before us, years and years ago to pray inside the temple. The experience was powerful.

To the side of the wall sat groups of Jewish men with the scriptures open, arguing back and forth about what the text means. These groups of 3-4 are known as havarim. It is your havarim that pushes you and grows you to live out the text and to bring more color to the mosaic. It is no wonder that Jesus says, “wherever two or more gathered, I am there with them also.”

We then moved on to the southern part of the wall, the steps where the Holy Spirit was dumped out on 3,000 men and women leading to their baptisms and the birth of Christianity. Sitting along those steps, in our own havarim, we prayed that we too might carry this memory with us. If we simply experience all Israel has to offer, but do not let it mold us, or worse, do not share our hearts with those around us, then we have failed to spread the good news. Our hairs stood up on end as we imagined Peter proclaiming the truth of Christ, shaping the hearts of Israel to once again become his people; a people rooted in love, hope, and restoration.

After leaving the wall, we knew we were headed to the holocaust museum. I could write story after story of what we saw, but it would do no justice to those who lost their lives at the hands of hatred.

There was only one moment of peace, one glimmer of hope, one reminder of who our God is. It was a statue, sitting outside of the memorial for the 1.5 million children killed. The statue portrayed God, our God, gathering the children about him, tears in his eyes as he pulled them close. No longer lost, no longer abandoned to the shadow of death, they were gathered close to Him. Though it was a faint glimmer, it was still a glimmer of the promise of resurrection. A promise that resurrection and restoration are not only possible, they are inevitable.

And so we end our day with heavy hearts, like the followers of Jesus who hoped for something other than death for their rabbi. But that is not the end of the story. There is hope; and so we wait. For tomorrow we come closer to the hope of Christ, the hope of restoration, the hope of shalom.

Bryan Muirhead
Connections Pastor