To walk the streets of Jerusalem is a timeless past-time. Walking in an eternal palace. Hills reaching like fingers to grasp, clouds reaching down to touch, people living lives to see.
Jerusalem is the vortex of the world; chosen and with a purpose. It is not built and destroyed, built and destroyed, in an endless procession for naught (by those who would try to capture what they have not yet seen.) As new rooms are added so are new religions, ethics, philosophies, and cultures. But in the center is still the empty throne, waiting for the right time in what has always been the right place.
There are still remembrances of when God’s Presence was revealed in the Temple, when God’s law and kingdom were being established. But all too soon all was rubble and ashes, with a known promise of redemption which would take thousands of years.
And what are the memories: stones and candles, blood and sweat, a blessing followed by a curse, holy books handled with care and whispering winds at night.
Walking the streets of Jerusalem is to ask why and to know that one must find the answer.
