Our small group of eight began our trek from Beit Shmuel at 6:30AM. As Daniel and Sarah guided us speedily and efficiently through the streets of the Old City, I honestly did not know how I would react to being at the Wall for the first time in my life. Would it be just another holy place to pray or for me would it really be for me, A Holy Place.
Those who know me Jewishly know that I am not one to wear a kippah or tallit except on rare occasions. I have always said that this is not because I have any particular stance against wearing them, I just hadn't found the right time or the right reason that made it meaningful and personal to me. I did make the choice to bring my tallit with me to the wall. Before we entered the prayer area the women separated off from the men in our group. We stood outside the men's prayer area and put on our tallitot. We contemplated whether to enter the men's prayer area or stand outside the women's area. I suggested we go into the men's are and Daniel led us to the back corner closest to the women's section.
The police knew why we were there and rather conspicuously surrounded us. The orthodox men seemed to obviously increase the volume of their activities. I purposely, simply, call their actions "activities" rather than davening or praying because in order to be truly davening or praying, it should be necessary for one to focus on God or ones relationship with God. Instead, these men were purely focused on disrupting our prayer as we listened intently for the voices of the women and their chazzan through the fence. Although I tried to focus on the morning prayers, my prayers turned toward the young men and women of the police forces who were protecting us and our right to stand and pray in our small corner in front of The Wall.
While we prayed one of the orthodox men grabbed a chair in an attempt to throw it over the fence at the women. The police grabbed his arm before he got very far. I commend the police for their restraint. In Cincinnati, this fellow would have been tased, thrown to the ground and cuffed before being dragged away. Instead, this man was allowed to scream his peace, shove a police officer, and make a fool of himself before being escorted politely from the prayer area. Another man took his place yelling at us as we prayed in solidarity with the women. My Hebrew is not good enough to know what he was yelling but his look and tone said enough. None of that is what it means to be Jewish, regardless of your affiliation.
After Hallel, the head of the police forces signaled to us that it was time for us to leave. He and several other police escorted us, under their protection, out of the men's prayer area toward where the women were exiting for the long walk down toward Robinson's Arch. This is the area adjacent to the main section of the wall where the women are allowed by law to read Torah.
At the end of the Torah service, I slipped away from the group and stood at the foot of the Wall. I pulled my tallit tightly around my shoulders and placed my hands and forehead against the wall and offered a prayer of my heart. I had never felt comfortable in a tallit up until that moment. It had always felt awkward, something that always needed adjustment, checking, repositioning. This morning, at that moment at the Wall, my tallit enwrapped me, sheltered me, warmed me, comforted me, and uplifted me. This morning was transformative. I did not leave the Jaffa Gate as the same man who entered. I will not leave Yisrael as the same man who arrived. With the grace of God, I will return home and to Israel again and again. Let this be the first of many trips to Hakotel Hama'aravi.
My thanks to Daniel, Leslie, Jessie, Sarah, Jeremy, Michael and Kenny for the shehecheyanu for my first trip to the Wall - all of you made this very special for me.
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