Deep Underground

Our first stop is Solomon’s Quarries, inside the belly of Mount Moriah (the Temple Mount and site of the Old City) and used from the 10th century BC to the 4th century AD. We’re told it’s the largest man made cave, discovered again when a man followed his dog’s barking. Cats are abundant here, like on the Temple Mount, (dogs are not allowed) in order to keep the place rat free. Freemasons hold ceremonies here occasionally, and the most notable was Charles Warren, before he was recalled to London to investigate Jack the Ripper.

Some of us take a golf cart down but the rest follow Yossi deep down to Zedekiah’s Spring, a myth that claims this last king before the exile cried and his tears created the spring. In reality, it’s seepage from a leak in the sewer lines.

Going down!

Amid the ruddy stones and the trickle of water, Yossi plays for us, and the light music is in sharp contrast to the idea of slaves, with sweat and blood and oxen, brought the large stones from the temple. With the exception of a middle-aged Muslim woman, we are alone down here. 

deep in the cave

Our guide plays for us

The spring

We leave and head for the Herodian Gate and end up at Saint Anne’s Church, the most perfectly preserved Medieval church in Israel, most likely because it was taken over by the Muslims until it was purchased back by the Christians. Yossi asks us who Saint Anne is. I take a stab at it and say “someone’s mother”. A fairly safe bet. Anne was the mother of the Virgin Mary. Mary was most likely born in Jerusalem.  

Our son-in-law's initials. I snap this photo for him.

Herodian Gate

Very organized graffiti!

Okay, which way do we go?

The city is nearly always busy!

One friend keeps up despite an ailment

A shopping mecca!

Beautiful grounds of a beautiful church

Looking up above the entrance

One of Saint Anne's furry friends

These ruins go way down!

Imagine having this view from your home?

I peek over the railing to the ruins 50 feet below, the early part of the city and see the remains the Pool of Bethesda (which means House of Grace) and its colonnades. Our guide reads from John 5: 1-15, the story of the man who was an invalid for 38 years and tried to get into the water each time an angel stirred the water, but wasn’t fast enough. 

Yossi tells us that in winter, the rain would slip into the water from a spring and stir it. Some scholars believe that it was a pagan pool and the story has been invented, yet, time and again, we see Jesus seeking out pagans and sinners and using places of pagan worship to preach. I think again of the brutality of the temple of Pan, mentioned in an earlier post.

It's hard to believe the ancient city was so far down.

one of the colonnades

There are many layers to the invalid story. Jesus had asked the man if he wanted to be healed, as some didn’t because they earned a living as beggars. Also, Jesus healed him on the Sabbath, something the religious leaders of the day didn’t like.

In the church, the apse is acoustically lovely, and we sing Amazing Grace and Hallelujah, and after, listen to another woman sing another beautiful song and a priest adds his voice to the chorus. I visit the grotto downstairs to see the traditional site of Mary’s birth. 

A friend with one of the priests

Inside Saint Anne's Church

One of the ways down to the grotto

We exit through Stephen’s Gate where Saint Stephen was stoned or martyred. We pass a legless beggar, so appropriately placed there, no doubt, by family or friends. 

Saint Stephen's Gate

Our next stop is more exciting. The Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus was betrayed!

Stop Being So Canadian!

We're back in the Old City, walking to the food court of the Old City. Some stayed at a café for lunch, but I had passed some interesting prints, and I want to return to them. It's an absolute maze here, but we find the shop and purchase, after ‘successfully’ bartering down, a print. (Do we ever get a fair price? Bartering, while fun, is a difficult process. I guess this is like buying a car.) The merchant wanted $35 for a print, and after a bit of back and forth, we settled for $15. 

Last time, I bought one of this painter's prints

The market as a whole is a cacophony of sights and sounds and smells. The bumps of many bodies, incense so thick it lingers on the tongue, all add to the experience. Bright colours, music, noise, the calls of store owners,  it’s a sensory overload to this country gal. 

A spice shop

It also had teas

Following our guide through the market.

An insane number of people.

We returned to the café and after everyone had eaten, we walk the short distance to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Here, we experience another attack on our senses. The press of many people, the glare of bright colours, a maze of sections and the incredible lineups might scare off even the most stalwart, but we push  on. 

The entrance to the church

There were guards high up, although the one below doesn't look like a regular Israeli soldier. 

Not too sure about this guy!

The upper section where the cross had once been is closed off for a service, so our guide takes us downstairs to see the original Golgotha. It’s actually a tall outcropping of rock and accessible at two levels, but visible only through layers of glass. This lower part has a small altar in front of it. 

That tiny window shows us Golgotha

The window is so small!

Later, we walk through the church to a small, divided chapel (Greek Orthodox and Roman Catholic). There is a 30 minute wait to peek inside. And all you see is what is left of Joseph of Arimethea’s tomb, the borrowed tomb of Christ which has been dismantled and a chapel built over top of it. A chapel within a church.

The front of the chapel

The back of the chapel.

Yossi takes us to another room. In order to prove Jesus was buried here, one must assume that this area was a cemetery, as the Jews did not bury their dead alone, and therefore there must be other tombs here. Archeologists found another tomb, a double one. But this section of the church belongs to the Syrian Church, and it's losing its battle with time. The Syrians have no money to fix their altar and the Catholics want it, because it’s of historical value, but the Syrians won’t sell it. Our guide says that as a result, it is often the target of vandalism by Catholics. 

The battered Syrian altar in the other tomb found there.

The Double tomb.

We try to leave but the press of bodies stops us. Our guide scolds us. “Stop being so Canadian!” I thrust out my elbows and wobble through the thick crowd, none of them offended as a Canadian might be. Hey, I have visited The Terracotta Warriors. I know how to squeeze through a crowd.

At the entrance, we are greeted by a line of Franciscan monks, young men lining up in their rough brown robes and rope belts to corral their pilgrims in for a service inside. One of our group asked to have her photo taken with one, and since she's young and pretty, the young monk obliges. 

Corralling their pilgrims.

We thread our way through the crowd and return to the Jaffa Gate. It’s getting close to sundown and the wind has turned chilly now that we're no longer sheltered by high walls and the press of warm bodies. The Sabbath is starting and we have to hurry to the bus. 

Hurrying out the Jaffa Gate. It's getting cool out.

I know it’s been tiring for some of our group, but I’m pleased our guide had insisted we do these things. One of our group commented on our guide’s measured pace, but when necessary, he could really move quickly.

Back at the hotel, we prepare for the Shabbat meal, and learn that not just elevators can be programmed for the Shabbat, but also lights, and even key cards are surrendered in favour of mechanical keys so that no work can be done on the Sabbath. I’m reminded that the laws of the OT were impossible to follow, so we needed to rely on God, and not ourselves. 

After the meal, we are politely asked to leave as there are a lot of guests tonight. So we retire to the lobby where I notice armed soldiers around us. Since Trump announced the US would set up an embassy in Jerusalem, Palestinians have called Fridays a Day of Rage; hence the armed presence. 

Where we are going tomorrow morning, there is unlikely to be any guards. 

We're going deep underground.