Today was not so much about the ride.

Or maybe it was all about ride.  Not sure which.  But today I immersed myself in two of the central pillars of modern Judaism and of the modern State of Israel.

The Western Wall is the remnant of Solomon’s Temple rebuilt by Herod before the exile in 70 C.E.  It forms the edge of the Temple Mount - the site on which Jews believe Abraham was tested by God in the story of the sacrifice of Isaac, and on which was the Holy of Holies - the inner-most sanctuary of the Temple, entered only once a  year, on Yom Kippur, and only by the High Priest.  This is the holiest site in the Jewish religion.  It is also the site from which Muslims believe that the Prophet Mohammed ascended to heaven, making it one of Islam’s holy sites as well.  Although Jews have prayed at the Wall throughout the millennia, it was closed to us after the Jordan captured that part of the city in the 1948 War of Independence, only to be once again available to people of all faiths after Israel captured the Old City in the Six Day War in 1967.

Only a small section of the Wall is exposed at street level today.  In recent years large underground sections of the Wall have been excavated, showing the genius of the engineers and builders of antiquity, and illuminating the connection of the Temple to life in the city and among its inhabitants.  There is a magnificent underground tour into the excavated site.  I learned why we revere the Western Wall over the other walls, some of which have also been excavated - because it is the closest to where the Holy of Holies stood.  And deep underground has been found the part of the Wall that itself is believed to be the closest spot of all to that hallowed place.  This is how I spent the early morning.

Above ground to the other formative event in modern Jewish history - the Holocaust (or in Hebrew: Shoah).  The murder of the six million Jews (as well as millions of others - communists, gypsies, homosexuals) by the Nazis and their collaborators in World War II.  From the ashes of the crematoria rose the modern State of Israel.  Yad Vashem is the Israeli institute and museum for study and commemoration of the Six Million, as well as of the thousands of gentiles who risked their lives to save Jews where they could.  These are the Righteous of the Nations, of whom Oscar Schindler (“Schindler’s List”) was only the most famous.  Here I spent a quiet afternoon;  as ever, stunned by the incredible evil perpetrated by the Nazi regime, angered by the refusal of the Allies to do what they could have done to stop or slow the killing machines, and saddened to tears by the unimaginable suffering and unfathomable waste of generations.  A quote that stays with me:  “A child is orphaned when it loses its parents.  A nation is orphaned when it loses its children.”  And thus, even in the darkest of times, it was the children who were given extra scraps of food, taught, and protected to that some remnants among them might survive.

These two views of the world make today’s political squabbles seem trivial.  They make one (or at least me) want to retreat to a simpler way of thinking - why can’t the world (and more importantly the nations of the Middle East) recognize the legitimate claims of  both sides, and simply work it out??  Of course this is also the thinking of a middle-aged geezer who is about to ride 300 miles in the desert to support some peaceniks who are trying to make water out of sand. (I told you I would bring this back to the ride!)  Are we as crazy as the Israelis whom I have told about this ride think we are?? (I can’t tell you how many have offered to drive me to Eilat!)  Maybe.  Maybe not.

L’hitraot

Lester