The Temple Mount and more

Today was a day of lessons, of new steps in unfamiliar places, of uncovering even more lives that we can exemplify.

We drove along the cobblestone streets of the city to a vast complex made of stone—the Temple Mount built by Herod the Great. Here we discovered some treasures that are precious to this city and have been for thousands of years. We stood at the foot of the Golden Gate, the only gate that faces east of the Temple Mount and where it is believed that Jesus will return one day, riding on the brilliant clouds that dot the Jerusalem sky. We touched the Wailing Wall, the closest place to the Holy of Holies where men and women have slid creased notes in the cracks and muttered prayers with their fingers pressed to the stone for centuries past.

From here we ventured through the Rabbi Tunnels, a series of paths underground that travel along the Wailing Wall to the northern edge. We saw water cisterns as we passed through the narrow walls of stone and stood on floors that were 2,000 years old.

Next was Jerusalem’s ancient historic core—the City of David. It was here that we faced a choice: walk through the narrow, dry tunnel of Warren’s Shaft or wade through water in Hezekiah’s tunnel? About six of us chose the former, and the rest unzipped their cargo pants at the knees and pulled their sandals out for the first time of the trip. Warren’s Shaft was built over 3,000 years ago to create underground access to a water source in the wartime, and the dry tunnel twisted and turned until our small group reached the end. Hezekiah’s tunnel was cold, with water that rushed past the group’s bare legs and moments where bending to their knees was the only option, but it was a step back into the past that you can’t create elsewhere.

At the end of the tunnel was not only a light, but the pool of Siloam! Here, as the story is told in John chapter 9, Jesus sent a blind man to wash the mud off his eyes, changing his life—and view—forever. As Wes shared with the group, when questioned, the man said he didn’t know whether Jesus was a sinner, but he was certain of one thing: that he was blind, and now he can see. More than anything, we can be certain of our own steps—the lessons we learn, the paths Jesus leads us on. We can be certain of the truths he has implemented in our own lives, and hold fast to the stories that we know to be true.

From here we took a short bus ride to the Shrine of the Book, where we also saw a large replica of the city of ancient Jerusalem. In the Shrine of the Book museum, the dead sea scrolls came to life before our eyes.

Our final stop was a museum that bears a story almost everyone has heard and one that is still so hard to hear, every time—the Holocaust Museum, Yad Vashem. It was countless hallways winding through a stone building, where every corner, every stop, every turn was a piece of haunting, heartbreaking history. The worn, dirty shoes of the victims lay in a pile underground. Pictures, torn at the edges, were lying on tables—images of families from the pockets of those who were taken from their homes. But another story also weaved through the cold, silent halls—a story of hope. A story of people who had no reason to help the victims, but who risked their lives—their reputations—to help them anyway. Those like Corrie Ten Boom, who has a tree planted outside the museum in her name. There are hundreds of these trees—trees planted in remembrance of those who strive to make a difference in the lives of those placed in front of them.

Today was a day of lessons, of new steps in unfamiliar places, of uncovering even more lives that we can exemplify. And today was a day that taught us that if we strive to live a life that can be exemplified, we might just be doing something right.