9/19 | My "Words of Wisdom"

Every Monday night, I attend Beit Midrash--literally "House of Learning"--programs at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem Hillel.  Tonight, Rabbi Yonatan Udren asked me to prepare a few "words of wisdom" to share with the other students.  Here is what I said:


After living here for a few weeks, it is easy to start taking Jerusalem for granted.  Look out any window and you are likely to see some sort of landmark: the Old City, the Mount of Olives, the Chords Bridge.  For most of us, these incredible places start to become commonplace, part of our "norm"--something we wake up with every morning and go to bed with every night.  Jerusalem becomes home, but it starts to lose its wonder.  Especially with the habitual nature of ulpan, things start to become very routine.


Until recently, I had fallen into this pattern.  Then, yesterday, I received a phone call from my sister.  After a long and painful battle with cancer, my uncle had passed away.  Naturally, this was very upsetting for me.  What could I do from thousands of miles away?  Then, it hit me.  It was early in the morning and class was several hours away.  I certainly couldn't sit in my room alone, so I threw on clothes and ran to the bus.  Of course I got on the wrong bus, ending up well past the Old City, but I was determined.  I sprinted past Mamilla, into the Armenian quarter, and through the Jewish quarter.  Finally, I reached the Kotel.


In what may have been one of the most surreal moments of my life, there I was, alone, at the Western Wall.  Around me, shofars were being blasted and melodies were being sung.  The sun was shining, the sky was a brilliant shade of blue, and I found my calm.  I made my way to the Wall, put in my note, said a quick prayer for my uncle, and gathered up the strength to call my mother.


Following a few quick greetings, my mom said to me, choking back tears, "Please, Robert, tomorrow go the Wall and say a prayer for the family."  Choking back tears of my own, I mustered up the ability to tell her, "I'm already here!"  And on the other end, I could sense her calm, too.  No other place in the world--not Tel Aviv, not London, not even home in Washington, D.C.--could have this kind of effect.  Where else can serenity be found in the midst of tragedy?


Jerusalem is a rock for those who need one most.  Yesterday, in those rocks that make up the stones of the Kotel, I not only found peace for myself, I found the reason I came to Jerusalem in the first place.  For as long as I am here, I will always remember what this place gave to me.  Jerusalem is as magical as it is majestic; this will not soon be forgotten.