The Dome of the Rock, Islam’s third holiest site, rests on the very spot where the Second Temple stood. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher lies a stone’s throw away. Such a concentration of holiness creates two possibilities. Jerusalem will either ignite an explosion that will turn the world upside down. Or Jerusalem will teach us how to live in peace. Visitors to the Western Wall in Jerusalem, a retaining wall for the Second Temple, often write important notes and insert them into crevices in the Wall. If God did so, the note might say: “O, Jerusalem, holy city, you have seen enough blood. Let my children finally grant you peace.” We are all created in God’s image. We pray to the same God. God doesn’t want us to kill one another—over Jerusalem, or anything else.

Jerusalem’s spiritual importance to Jews and Judaism would be hard to exaggerate. The Bible mentions Jerusalem or Zion, a rough synonym, more than 800 times, while the traditional daily liturgy includes more than 50 such references with Grace after Meals adding 13 more. When Jews pray, we face Jerusalem. Jerusalem’s significance lies not just in the fact that it was ancient Israel’s capital city — and is so again — but because it was the location of the First and Second Temples. From the reign of Solomon, in the 10^th century B.C.E., to the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 C.E., these temples stood for almost a thousand years. The Temple was the heart of the Israelite religion, a place of pilgrimage on festivals and the site of sacrificial rites. It may be hard for us to understand today, but throughout the ancient world sacrificial rites provided the primary sense of connection between a people and its gods. In fact, the Hebrew word for “sacrifice” is related to a word that means “to draw close.”

Judaism as we know it today evolved in the wake of the Temple’s destruction. In order to survive, Judaism became portable. Sacred moments in time would substitute for the loss of sacred space. Part of Judaism’s evolution in the post-Temple era involved ritualizing the traumatic sense of loss. Thus four of Judaism’s six traditional fast days commemorate different phases of the Temple’s destruction. When plastering a house some still practice the custom of leaving a portion unplastered as a remembrance of the Temple.[127. Tosefta, Baba Batra 2:17 (second or third century).] At every Jewish wedding, breaking a glass evokes the destruction of the Temple.

At the same time, restoration of Jerusalem and the Temple came to express Judaism’s deepest messianic hopes. The last of the seven nuptial blessings declares, “Soon may there be heard in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem, the voice of joy and gladness . . .” And we find similar allusions in the Haggadah. Note the refrain of a beloved Seder song, Adir Hu, which began appearing in Haggadot in the 14^th century: “May He build His Temple very soon. O God, build Your Temple speedily.” One of the Seder’s most vivid evocations of the Temple appears in a passage attributed to Rabbi Akiva (first and second centuries C.E.) found in the blessing over the second cup of wine:

. . . So Lord our God and God of our ancestors, enable us to reach also the forthcoming holidays and festivals in peace, rejoicing in the rebuilding of Zion Your city, and joyful at Your service [i.e., the sacrificial service]. There we shall eat of the offerings and Passover sacrifices whose blood will reach to the walls of Your altar for acceptance.

The Haggadah celebrates God’s past redemption of the Israelites from Egypt to sustain hope in God’s ultimate restoration of the Jewish people to a Jerusalem rebuilt, to a city that lives in peace.

As Mary notes, Judaism and Christianity share traditions that identify Jerusalem as the “navel of the earth.” Jewish and Islamic sources further claim that creation itself began with a particular stone, the “foundation stone,” located in the city. According to Jewish legend, this stone would remain the locus of critical events. It would be the site of the altar on which Abraham bound his son Isaac as a sacrifice, the rock on which he rested his head for the night when he dreamt of angels ascending and descending a ladder reaching to the heavens, and the Holy of Holies in the Temple. The Dome of the Rock stands above that place today.

Given its mythic pride of place in the order of creation, it’s not surprising that myth wraps Jerusalem in visions of perfection. “No man ever met with an accident in Jerusalem; No fire ever broke out in Jerusalem; No structures ever collapsed in Jerusalem.”

The reality of course, could not have been more different. Warring empires repeatedly sacked and burnt Jerusalem, and slaughtered its residents in droves. Unsustainable tension between the realities and visions of perfection probably gave rise to legends about the existence of two Jerusalems, one the earthly city, the other in heaven. The origins of this myth reach back to a midrashic reading of a verse from Psalm 122, a psalm devoted to the pilgrims’ visit to the holy city. Psalms 122:3 speaks of “Jerusalem built up, a city knit together.” The phrase “knit together,” (shechubra la yachdav) which likely referred to the city’s fortifications* or its surrounding wall, supplied midrashically inclined readers with the basis for a vision of two distinct cities. According to the Talmud, God will remain in exile from the heavenly Jerusalem until the earthly city is rebuilt.*

Myth has likewise given rise to the popular meaning ascribed to the city’s name—“ir shalom,” “city of peace.” (Modern scholarship suggests the more likely origin is ur Shulmanu, the city of Shulmanu, city of the West Semitic god of that name.)* A fifth-century midrash tells a story about Jerusalem’s name that remains poignant today given the conflicts surrounding the city. This legend recounts that Abraham referred to the city as “yireh” (as in Genesis 22:14, “Adonai yireh,” “God has vision”). But Shem (strictly according to midrash) called it Shalem (as in Genesis 14:18, “King Melchizedek of Salem,” “Salem,” “Shalem” in Hebrew, meaning “peace”). God said, if I call the city yireh, one righteous man will be offended. If I call it Salem, the other righteous man will be offended. Therefore I will use both names, “Yirehshalem,” “He will see peace.”*