In my previous post, I described Jerusalem perhaps unwisely as just “another ancient hill,” if only to set up a contrast between the transcendent kindness of Christianity and the open book of grudges that seems to be the contemporary Middle East. The city is not just a hill; it is home to stories and histories much greater than the sum of its acreage. But despite the vocabulary with which Jerusalem is inevitably describe
d in today’s conflict—percentages owned and settled, building permits and demolition orders—I don’t think it should be reduced to mere owned property, either. It needs to be raised up.
Jerusalem is now less a city than an issue. In Israeli-Palestinian negotiating circles, it is one of (maybe the foremost of) the big three, the others being Israeli settlements and Palestinian refugees. Israeli or Palestinian sovereignty over its residential zones and historical sites—in particular al-Aqsa Mosque, the Western Wall and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre—comprise the material of the debates that don’t get solved. Both sides want Jerusalem as their capital.
After it was treated as a holy prisoner of war for centuries, variously pulled, pushed, burned, injected and nibbled at the same time it was glorified, the idea finally came about in the early 20th century to rescue Jerusalem from the nations. But plans to internationalize the city are well overmatched against the ageless tug-of-war mentality. I wonder how we can invigorate the idea and shift our understanding of the city.
I found over the course of several dozen visits to Jerusalem between October 2010 and two weeks ago, that the salient condition of being there is being watched. There are security cameras, armed guards, and yes, spies to accompany the eyes of the hawking merchants. In the presence of these obvious discomforts, not a lot of people—not even tourists—are wandering and wondering in contemplation of the divine. Probably that’s not the ideal role for Jerusalem anyway. But the fact that the city must be and will be shared is complementary to the fact that all of our histories and questions are shared in the end, too. Jerusalem ought to be a quiet place in the care of those who love it and recognize its essence can’t be understood, much less owned. It cannot be a place of suspicion.
That Jerusalem, which I and many other people wish for, is also a model for all communities. From time to time, we have questions that are well beyond our own comprehension and have to be shared. They’re both zoning conflicts and existential crises. They can neither be diagnosed nor solved by individuals. Instead they both call on us to undertake a similar shift, away from the idea that we are only ourselves and towards inclusion in something alive and much greater.
ashes2easter 