Old/New World Discourse: A return to the Kotel

On the Friday morning between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Computer Cowboy and I prayed at the Kotel. Baruch Hashem, since we live in the Holiest City, getting there, especially since now, long after the war, that special bit of real estate has been restored to its appointed guardians, is as easy as finding a bus, hailing a cab, or turning on the ignition (from where my family lives, walking is mostly the province of the young or of the otherwise spirited).

Although my husband and I have been Blessed to pray at The Wall far more often than when we lived outside of Jerusalem, we are inspired anew each time we tread on its pavilion's cobblestones. That morning, as other times, we felt gifted with revelation.

First, we noted and appreciated the existence of the holy beggars adorning the holy walkways. Those modest individuals, whom The Boss Established as surely as He Established the sun, the moon, and the oceans, help the rest of us build merit through their generously allowing us to do a mitzvah for them (Being willing to receive is no small item; consider the frequency with which most of us refuse a tissue, an extra helping of a delicious food, a hug, or some other "minor" comfort. Accordingly, most of us are too small in our faith to trust that our very livelihood can come in unmeasured amounts, during uncountable moments, in "sufficient" degree). In short, we Jews touch fortune every time we are privileged to hand anything to any of those higher placed souls. Nothing is ours, permanently, except the deeds of kindness we chance to actualize.

Next, my spouse and I noticed the soldiers. Those caretakers dot the prayer arena in both uniform and in stealth. Their presence enables all of us visitors the extent of human-yielded safety. From the not-so-simple foot soldiers to the precisely shaven Special Forces, those persons provide the histadlut for the rest of us, who are sometimes more comfortable partnering with Hashem than with each other. We can learn much from those keepers.

Beyond those guardians are the sentinels of feather and of leaf. The doves that light on the hewn stones call our attention away from itchy clothes, thirsty mouths, groaning bellies, to other, important matters as they sing the perfection of creation. While those fliers seemingly are busied with life's mundanities, they concurrently and wholesomely exclaim the glory of Hashem's plan.

The capers which sprout from among the Kotel's crevices, too, serve witness to our people's potential for righteousness and for justice. Those plants declare, by bud and leaf, shoot and flower, i.e. by the vigor of their growth, that Klal Yisrael, even reduced to roots, even transported to inhospitable climes, even consumed by prickly agony, can continue to reach toward Shemyim. At night (see: "Royalty," June 5, 2008), those same flora emulate stars, in turn reflecting to us the multitude of kindnesses with which Our Creator has gifted us and the Power and Oneness of His Name.

Most of the beings present at the Kotel, though, are guests. Some of us come to pray. Some of us, especially the ganim full of energized little people, come to learn. Some of us come to help (next time you visit, watch carefully how strangers make way for each other and how most individuals are considerate to the sick and the elderly). Some of us insist on touching the wall, on putting our foreheads, palms, cheeks, and toes against its astonishingly warm stones. Others of us rock and sway in place, oblivious to the flowing throngs. Some stand. Some sit. Some hold the hands of friends, of siblings, of children, or of parents.

We swirl around each other like the mixing of life's essences. Here, a Baas Yaakov class; there, worldly Jews busily adjusting their makeshift scarves and shoulder wraps. We implore Hashem in Hebrew, French, Russian, English, Korean, Danish, and Farsi. We pray from tattered, tear-stained books, from volumes borrowed from the Kotel "library," and from new tomes purchased in Old City bookstores.

The Kotel is a vortex of many things, including lessons for life. I hope my husband and I return there more frequently. While it is the Temple that we seek, we need to continue to maintain our guardianship over the amot nearest to its future position.

Have an easy and meaningful fast.