put forth on December 3, 2009
This is just another piece of the story. I mention this just to let you know I am more than willing to discuss where I may have gone wrong or perhaps explain where there might have been a misunderstanding.
Back to the trip in 1977. The main reason my family went on the trip was to fulfill my Mother's wish that I have a Bar Mitzvah in Jerusalem, at the Wailing Wall, in front of a minyan of orphanage children. My Mother had her heart set on this and I was more than willing to oblige. We went to visit family on the East Coast then on to London. Rome was the second stop before proceeding on to the Holy Land. We only spent about 36 hours in Paris on the way back, where God prevented the explosion of the bomb Ruhollah Khomeini directed someone to plant on our short tour bus.
I remember the weather in Israel was out of the ordinary, to say the least. About 100 degrees Fahrenheit and near 100% humidity. At night, the water condensed on metal surfaces and dripped to the ground as if it was raining but there was no precipitation. Uncomfortable to say the least; everyone was perspiring heavily.
I had prepared extensively for my second Bar Mitzvah and many people told me I had done well, for an "Amercian boy." I saw many interesting things there, including an item known as "Shabet" which is the scepter of the Messiah and a conical hat that is also supposed to worn by the Messiah. They were on display near the Wailing Wall but I was not allowed to touch them.
Later on during that trip we visited Solomon's tomb. It was a fairly small building. There was a changing room for the guards and the tomb room itself. I remember Solomon's sarcophagus was ornate but not ostentatious. One of the people who accompanied us told me to tell Solomon to "get up." I was technically a man and perhaps it was time to bring Solomon back from he dead. If I had, that would be very impressive, right? I wasn't sure about it though. I hadn't prepared for that, and besides, where was I going to go with resurrected Solomon? I have to admit I was a bit overwhelmed just being in the presence of Solomon's dead body. It is hard to describe what it is like to see that the man known for Judaism's golden age is real, if dead. I did not touch the sarcophagus.
Is the fact that Solomon remained in place a way of proving I am not who I say I am? Keep in mind I was only 14; last time Jesus was there he was older than that. I still had not survived a lot of the attempts on my life. I still had not dreamt the dream where God explained my tasks (which resulted in the black dot on my cheek), my eyes were still brown and had not become hazel, I had not found Elijah (Columbus Meeker) and many of the other accomplishments that people should now associate with my life, in this lifetime.
My fault? Was I at Solomon's tomb too soon? Maybe if I touched his sarcophagus with the Shabet while wearing the purple cone hat that might have made a difference. If I did bring him back would everyone stop killing each other? Would you stop provoking each other?
How many miracles do you need? This world just doesn't seem very peaceful to me. I tried the best I could but I suppose you were all doomed to fall short anyway. What am I supposed to do about that? Although I am the intersecting point of all the Abrahamic faiths, and more, people within these faiths are fighting with each other and amongst themselves. Maybe you think I should go up to each and every one of you to explain it. Simple mathematics should explain I would never live long enough to do that.
And really, why should I do any of the things you think I should do when none of the things I said must be done have gotten done? Am I your puppet?