My
trip to Israel is still on my mind. On our last day in Jerusalem we visited the
Southern Steps. These are what is left of a large set of steps that led to gates
on the southern wall of the Temple Mount. We learned a lot about this place that
I could share:
- Jesus came here as a baby, (Luke 2:22).
- As He grew up He would’ve come with his family for the annual pilgrimage astounding everyone as He learned and taught (Luke 2:4-50).
- Jesus taught here as an adult, Luke says Jesus would teach at the temple “every day” (Luke 19:47; 20:1; 21:37–38; 22:53). The Southern Steps would have been one likely place for these teachings.
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| The Bumpy ones at the bottom are where Jesus would've walked.... |
Some
of the steps have been rebuilt, but there is a section that is original to
Jesus’ time. It is certain that He stood there. [My husband shared a very
special story about this place at the end of his blog post here, but I want to share something
else]. As our group sat on these steps
and tried to fathom the wonder of being there our guide told us about a Jewish
tradition that happened here. I almost missed it; I was so overwhelmed with the
wonder of imagining Jesus’ feet resting where my fingers brushed over the
stones. I focused as He taught us about how the Jewish worshippers would’ve
approached the temple only after visiting the ritual baths nearby. As the freshly
prepared worshippers ascended the southern steps just east of where we sat, they
went through a large triple gate on the east side of the steps (now filled in with stones). As they
entered they would’ve been singularly focused on their religious duties and
worship. However after their visit to the temple they wouldn’t exit back the
same way, they would exit through a double gate on the west side….right onto
the Southern Steps, opposite where they entered. Here they would visit and
listen to teaching and relax in the aftermath of community and worship [for us,
this is the follow-up hugs and tender conversations in the foyer after church].
He said that everyone of course knew how to enter and how to exit. It was
tradition, and according to Roni the Israeli Tour Guide “we never change tradition.”
Part of the reason that the southern steps were so ideal for teaching is that
they were wide (about 200 feet) with
alternating narrow and wide steps making a great gathering place. I found a
picture recently in my Study Bible that shows this part of the wall. You can see the Triple Gate on the right, and the Double Gate on the left....
It’s so
exciting to me to have stood there.
You went to the ritual baths, entered
through the triple gate, and then exited through the double gate.
Every Jew knew
this.
Every Jew did this.
There
was an exception.
Grief.
If
you were grieving you entered in reverse. Instead of climbing the stairs and
entering with the throngs under the triple gate, you entered through the exit,
the double gate. And everyone knew what this meant. Our guide shared that as a man or woman
entered the wrong way everyone knew it was because they were grieving. As the
crowds were exiting, they would make way for the bereaved just approaching
God’s house and wave them through, encouraging them to enter, saying…….
"This
place will comfort you…..”
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| This is what is left of the Double Gate....where people would've normally exited. |
As
I write this we are days away from the bombing at the Boston Marathon, which is
especially chilling to me as the wife of a marathon runner. I’ve waited in a crowd at a marathon finish
line twice and am certain to do so again.
As
I tuck in my child who is afraid of gunmen in school and bombs in crowds, old
enough to know that mom’s platitude of “that’s not gonna happen” rings hollow, I
feel angry and helpless.
As
I prepare to teach about trusting God in disappointment and protecting our
hearts from bitterness even when you lose everything you love I feel nearly
superstitious, as if sharing the lesson is inviting the pain.
As
my imagination paces on the verge of a panic not covered by grace, I know I
need to settle down. And I remembered these pictures and the story of this tradition.
Even though I can’t corroborate it, I love the truth found in the
sentiment. Grief is mean. One of the meanest tricks grief plays is changing
things that used to comfort into unfamiliar routines as ill-fitting and
cumbersome as a heavy jacket that smells like a stranger. Grief snatches you
unprepared, tosses you up against events and emotions you can’t control, and
then lands you back home where everything now feels foreign. Mean.
How
perfect that coming to God when you're grieving would be illustrated at the Temple by going to church backward?
How fitting that those who’ve experienced God would see you coming and not look
the other way or remind you of proper protocol, but welcome you in? How comforting
that the place and people who once were familiar would just invite without
demands or meaningless platitudes saying instead….
“Come
in. This place will comfort you…..”
Let's not let fear stalk and slay us.
Let's not let grief convince us to hide.
Let's share life even when it feels backward, offering honest comfort that serves.
“But you, God, see the trouble of the afflicted; you consider their grief and take it in hand.The
victims commit themselves to you; you are the helper of the fatherless.”
Psalm 10:14 NIV
“So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you
again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”
John 16:22 ESV
“So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many
trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine.”
I Peter 1:6-7 NLT
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| View from the wall at the top of the steps....looking down on the steps. |
Here are my other posts about our trip to Israel:
