My Journey to the Temple Mount
by Ariella Golani
I have had what I refer to as “lock-down syndrome” over the last five years. It all started with the physical lock-downs forced by the governments during the time of the Corona Virus and then from the October 7 massacre and onward in Israel, we had the constant pressure to stay near home just in case bombs should target our town. My friend, Judy in Tzfat invited me dozens of times to meet her in Jerusalem and go together to Har HaBeit (the Temple Mount) to make our presence felt and to pray for the restoration of the Temple and the land of Israel. I had not been to Jerusalem for 5 years when I visited the Kotel (Western Wall).. It was 35 years before that when I actually went up to the Mountain. And at that time, the presence of Jews on the site was not welcome. With the continual insistence of Jews with the Temple in heart and mind, the place has begun to allow prostration in at least one place and prayers, though no siddurim (prayer books) are allowed.
The appeals from several sick friends and relatives kick started my journey! I got myself out of bed at 4:30 in the morning to meet the 6 a.m Jerusalem bus. The case of my Hispanic friends in Central and South America has been heavy on my heart for some time. Many of these descended from diaspora Jewish “conversos” (people who became Catholic to save their lives). After the inquisition in Spain and Portugal found many of these fleeing to the Americas and other places. I know some who have personally left Christianity, which was passed down to them by their ancestors, who were threatened with torture and death by these countries. Alas, many of their descendants don’t have paperwork to show who they are. All they have is the knowledge that something inside them is crying out to return to the land and people of Israel. This unspoken cry, unfortunately, is not heard by political governments, nor the state of Israel. For these conversos to come to Israel they have to do the impossible: convert to an accepted form of Judaism, which is extremely expensive, costing thousands of dollars and then there is little assurance that the Israeli rabbinate will accept them.
Countries such as Cuba have no Israeli embassy to appeal to and the people live from bread crust to bread crust barely surviving, thus the idea of conversion or even a visitor’s visa for 3 months to Israel is completely out of the question. So one of my prayers which I bore on my heart and wrote on a scrap of paper which I tucked into the Western Wall (Kotel) was for an open door to the Hispanic diaspora “Conversos”–those who truly desire to return to the land of our ancestors.
It was a long bus ride. Highway 90 traverses Judea and Samaria (known by the world as the West Bank). The bus moved down the dry hills until we saw a glimpse of the Dead Sea and then turned West towards Ma’ale Adumim, the last town before the barrier between the embattled area and Jewish domain. At the barrier (like a border crossing) two soldiers entered the bus. One stood in front by the driver, in case trouble broke out, as the other walked down the aisle inspecting the rows of passengers for anything that might raise suspicion. As we forged on through the gate to climb the hill up to Jerusalem, the traffic got more and more heavy. The bus was delayed almost an hour, but fortunately, Judy was willing to come meet me at the exit of the light rail which runs from the Central station to many parts of Jerusalem.
We boarded a #38 bus which took us close to the Kotel from where the boarded tunnel passage climbs up to the top of Har HaBeit. Because Judy goes nearly every week, the guards know her so that we were not scrutinized beyond the first metal detector.
It is disheartening to realize how much the Mount itself has been desecrated by those who do not respect the place that HaShem (YHVH) chose to place his name and which has been the holiest place on earth, having housed two of our Holy Temples which were destroyed by Israel’s enemies: Babylon and then Rome. According to history, the Holy Presence of our God had left the first temple because of the disobedience of our forefathers. In Ezekiel 7:20-25 the prophet described the departure of the Divine Presence from the first Temple (Go to verses.)
When Jonathan’s wife gave birth after he was killed along with King Saul, she exclaimed: This was about the Mishkan in Shilo, before the building of the first Temple, but shows that the ark of God must be present in the Temple.
“The glory has departed from Israel, for the ark of God has been captured.” 1Sa 4:22
There was never a resurgence of the Divine Presence in the second temple after the exile. Why?
“The Jewish historian Josephus records that when the Roman general Pompey entered the Holy of Holies in 63 BCE, he found an empty room, as the Ark of the Covenant was long gone. This absence of the Ark, the physical manifestation of God’s presence in the First Temple, is often interpreted to mean the divine presence was no longer there in the same way.” Ai Google.
The hope of many in Israel is that soon, God will return to this Place and we will see the end of war and the hatred that has so long dogged the path of the Jewish people. That Jews will become the promised Light to the nations, prophesied by the prophet Isaiah:
“I, YHVH, have called thee in righteousness, and will hold thy hand, and will keep thee, and give thee for a covenant of the people, for a light of the Gentiles;” Isa 42:6
As we entered the boarded up tunnel walkway, we were accompanied by policemen in black uniforms, some Arabs, some Jews. Our instruction was that there were to be no prayer books and there were only certain places we could incline and pray. Other places were considered as offensive to the Muslims if Jews were allowed. We saw ancient pillars and steps and remnants of what once was, but for the most part the solid golden dome over the mosque was at the center of everything and which can be seen from almost everywhere in or around Jerusalem.
My heartfelt cry for the restoration of this place brought about another prayer–that the Eternal forgiving God of our ancestors would remember His promise to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and return to comfort His people Israel and once again make His Presence known, and to dwell in this Holy Mountain which has been desecrated through the last nearly 2.5 millennia. Again, we ask, why? Why did the Divine Presence not return to the Second Temple? Had something been lost in the exile to Babylon? Had a new religion taken the place of the one taught on Sinai? And did this religion in some way create customs and tradions of its own so that the Jews did not need the Eternal to rule them?
As we neared the end of our circuit around the top of the mountain, we saw steps that had remained from times of the Second Temple. I stepped up on one where I was able to say the Oseh Shalom prayer quietly.
“Oseh shalom bimromav”: May He who makes peace in high places.
“Hu ya’aseh shalom aleinu”: Make peace for us
“V’al kol Yisrael”: And for all Israel
“V’imru: amen”: And let us say, amen
עֹשֶׂה שָׁלוֹם בִּמְרוֹמָיו, הוּא יַעֲשֶׂה שָׁלוֹם עָלֵיֽנוּ וְעַל כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל, וְאִמְרוּ : אָמֵן.
At one point the men and women on the tour separated and some of us lay flat on the ground face down with our heads and hands stretched out toward where the Most Holy Place would have stood. There was an amazing feeling of light and peace there. It was almost as if the Divine Presence was hovering somewhere near. It is a place every Jew with a heart to be One with our People and One with God should be. It is the true home of the Jewish people and the ten tribes of Israel. I truly believe it is the presence and prayers of the humble and contrite, who seek their God, that will bring back the Holy Fire to the Temple Mountain.
I was loath to leave, but the tour was over and the policemen urged us towards the exit. I think we were there only 30 minutes. We then descended to the Kotel below and there I placed my scraps of paper with prayers written for different people and causes.
I bade goodbye to Judy and awaited another friend, Miriam who soon came to accompany me as I sat before the wall. After she prayed, we washed our hands in the fountain at the exit, and headed to find a bus to the terminal so that we might return to our homes in the Golan Heights.
This will not be the last time I make this journey. It was a day of remembrance, and tired as I was on the journey of three buses and two trains, it well worth it. Gone is the locked-down feeling that has kept me stuck for so long!
“If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.” Psa 137:5





